Chapter 10
Port Charles
The cat darted across the icy alley in search of its next meal. Its rumbling stomach was a powerful enough motivator for it to brave the chill winter conditions. So intent was it that it did not hear the car bearing at speed down the alley. Not until it was too late. Hunger was no longer a problem.
If the driver noticed that he had hit anything, he made no indication by gesture or expression. His attention was entirely captured by a mental tempest of memories, plans, regrets and visions of future disasters that had not stopped whirling ever since witnessing Robin's, no, Eve's confession. As with each time Sean recollected her words, his heart seized in his chest. He had left the room in a numb daze. It was only when he had embraced his own family that the pain had exploded within him. The tempest had begun to consume his every thought.
It had formed first as a trickle of letters then coalesced into a river of random words and, finally, it became a torrent of damnation from which he could not escape.
I, Sean Donely, having been appointed a Bureau Chief in the World Security Bureau do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the ...
O'Reilly is a career agent, Robert. Her being a woman has never, to my recollection, interfered with a mission. Sometimes, being a woman is an asset in itself. I'll look into this Cassadine file. In the meantime, I want you to observe and learn from O'Reilly's methods. She is a past master at improvisation when things go haywire.
The Bureau likes to think that it can survive on its own. And it can. But will it prosper? No, it won't. We have to evolve or resign ourselves to mediocrity and future obsolescence. I don't know about the rest of you chiefs but I intend to go down swinging!
Is this a first? A WSB chief talking with a DVX chief. What should we talk about?
I'm forming this new branch to be called The Gemini Group to serve as a conduit to businesses and other commercial concerns in Europe who can help us carry out our missions. In return, we give our partners a little help on the inside - giving them a heads up when new initiatives are starting up, introducing them to like-minded American companies. It's going to be a balancing act being in between the Bureau and the outside. So, I'm appointing the most capable person we have to lead the Gems - Jonathan Masters.
O'Reilly, meet your new partner, Robert Scorpio. He's green but I think he's got potential. Stuff his head until he says uncle. Then start all over again.
You know that kind of thinking died out in the sixties. The idea of a perfect soldier or a perfect spy is a pipe dream, Faison.
I am aware, Congressman, that the American public expects the WSB to behave within a code of ethics. That's all well and good but it's not practical. In fact, it could be deadly for the agents in the field. Think of us as being part of game of chess played inside a labyrinth. The players don't always wear black or white. One player could be a pure-hearted Bishop one day and a dastardly black knight the next day. The only thing that matters is who gets to the prize first? If I had my way, the WSB would ALWAYS get to the prize first.
General, there is no such thing as a quiet coup. Someone, somewhere will be screaming murder to anyone who will listen! I guarantee it. Do things MY way and there won't be a need for a coup at all.
We encourage marriage. Do you know why, Donely? Because it is a form of genetic engineering. You laugh but we stand by it. Superb agents on both our sides share common character traits - insightful even creative intelligence, a sense for survival, natural curiosity, and a high tolerance for risk. These are things that one is either born with or not. When two agents who have one or more of these traits have a child, it can be expected that the result can be molded into a superior operative. I think of it as assisting natural selection in my own small way.
I heard about your difficulties, Mr. Secretary. Diplomacy can only go so far. Let us help. Why send in the negotiators before you know the lay of the land? Wouldn't it be easier even for career diplomats to make terms from a position of strength? I can make that happen.
The team of O'Reilly and Scorpio strikes again! Three weeks inside and no one was tipped off. Excellent work. Now that the coup plotters are rotting in jail, the democratic elections can take place peacefully. Well, as peaceful as it ever gets in that part of the world. Your next mission is going to be a walk in the park.
Find me the means, Jon, to ensure success for a female agent who must operate in isolation and secrecy for years while gathering information by any means necessary. She has to be so convincing that the role is carried out with the least conscious effort for her as possible. That's a tall order I know. Obviously, there will have to be some physical changes and quite a bit of knowledge to absorb beforehand but with the right candidate anything is possible. For now, let's call this ideal agent Minerva, the goddess of wisdom and war. I know just the man to head the candidate selection end of the project - Gabriel de Bruin. He's based in Quebec. He'd welcome a new assignment. I'll twist a few arms personally to guarantee his transfer to the Gems.
I'll take a group of unrelated top level agents over a team from the common kindergarten, Faison. I want their loyalty to be for the company not their families. When agents start considering personal bonds over the dictates of the company, well, that's when things get complicated for everybody. That's why we don't permit marriages between agents. No one wants to clean up the mess from the fallout.
I need someone fresh and young. Someone with no preconceived notions who's bright, eager to please and motivated to succeed. Find me that person, Gabe. Charm and beauty would be pluses.
Jon, Project Minerva is a full go. Let's just say that we have friends high up who value our ... services. The funding will be available by the end of the week. I'll shift some accounts around but it will eventually find its way into your account.
We've put the Cassadines on the watch list, Robert. They've stayed on their end of the world for the most part. That makes it easy for them to hide their crimes and harder for us to flush them out. But the first time that they make a move on an American target, I promise you, we will investigate.
I am open to any means - chemical, physical, mental what have you - as long as it achieves the objective. If you can't find it out there, then we'll develop it ourselves. Let me know your team's findings, Jon.
You were right, Gabe. Anna Devane is the best candidate so far. No family ties and very driven to prove herself. I want to see how far she can go before she hits a wall. I want her out of the training class. Make up some excuse. I'll send over a course sheet to start her off. Progressively give her more and more until she breaks - physical training and conditioning, languages, technical detail, procedure and analysis, the works. I'll be there in one week.
I see. Anna broke through the wall and she's still as motivated as ever. I think it's time I participated in her training. Set up a small job, Gabe. I want to see Anna's behavior in a real situation.
Senator, I can only say that in this case the end did justify the means. You may not be happy with the way we got the results but I don't think you'll be complaining come election time. Here are the pictures and the negatives. I'd keep this hobby to myself if I were you. We may not be able to help you again. Have a good day.
Robert Scorpio, meet Anna Devane. Swede and O'Reilly already know Anna. They've worked with her on a couple of missions.
You've recruited one of my best agents. I want her back, Cesar.
It's a priority ten and you're the only one I can trust with the assignment. You're also going to be working 'round the clock alone or with the Swede. We have a double agent with us, Robert.
Anna, you did marvelous work on this assignment. I'm sorry you got hurt. But the WSB will take care of everything including a handsome pension for retirement.
The project is off the table. No, I can't explain ... just terminate Project Minerva. No, it has nothing to do with Gabe's death. There's one thing I didn't anticipate - free will and fate. Never mind. I'm babbling. Shut things down, Jon, immediately on my order.
Sean slammed a fist against the steering wheel. "Stop it! Stop this!"
Find me the means ... find me the means, Jon, to ensure the success of a female ...
"I CAN fix this. I can FIND her. I CAN!" shouted Sean. "Whatever it takes!"
Sean pulled over to the side. He was still a few blocks from where he needed to be. He could afford a few minutes delay. He rolled the windows down and reclined his seat. He closed his eyes and breathed in and out in an even rhythm.
The cold air had the desired effect. The voices receded as his mind cleared. His heart rate slowed down considerably.
"Keep it together, man. Another hour that's all."
Sean angled the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot and his face was flushed. He rooted through the glove compartment. Tiffany always kept it stocked with supplies. He found the eye drops and a moist towelette. He used both.
He spent five minutes visualizing the upcoming meeting. He sought mastery over his emotions and body. It was a meeting he could not mess up. The Gems would be expecting the cool and collected Sean Donely - the legendarily ruthless Bureau chief and their visionary creator. That's what he had to give them.
Sean studied himself in the mirror again. The image displayed was of a person he'd begun to ignore on his wedding day. He'd forgotten he existed when he had heard his daughter's first cries and looked into Tiffany's eyes watery mirrors of his own.
God help his soul, that man was back. Had he ever truly left?
Sean entered the back of the boarded up store front. He went up the stairs like a man without a care in the world.
"Hello, Sean," said a voice at the top of the landing. "I can't believe I'm getting to meet you."
Sean extended a hand to an intense, dark-haired man in his early thirties. He wore amber tinted, round spectacles that gave him an air of maturity that balanced his boyish features. "I can't believe I'm still around. Who do I have the pleasure of meeting?"
The younger man led him into another room where a table and chairs awaited them. A carafe and mugs lay on a tray atop the table. Sean could detect no electronic surveillance or anyone else in the room.
Catching Sean looking around, the man said, "No one else here, physically or virtually. This is a private meeting in every way." He extended his hand and smiled genially. "I'm Chase Masters, Mr. Donely. Dad says hi."
Sean chuckled. "How is Jon these days?"
"Retired in Florida. A run and swim every morning. A round of golf every other day. Trips around the country whenever the whim strikes my mother."
"Priscilla's a very understanding woman to put up with him all these years."
"I think it helps that she's always had her own career and, she told me once, that she always thought of Dad as an accountant with a few exotic clients." Chase gestured at a chair. "Please let's sit down. Coffee?"
"Yes, please."
"Sorry for the chill in here. I didn't realize there was no heat." Chase poured coffee into two mugs.
"Coffee will hit the spot." Sean sat down. "Shall we get down to business? Are my services wanted?"
"Yes, sir, absolutely," said Chase taking the other seat. "Your request took us by surprise though."
"Did it?"
"You disavowed knowledge of the group at your retirement from the company and -" began Chase.
"That was necessary and for the Gems protection," explained Sean. "It may not have seemed that way at the time."
"Time has proven your wisdom, sir."
"Sean, please," said Sean with a small smile. "I take it the organization has thrived?"
"Yes, sir, I mean, Sean. As you instructed, we 'died' in the eyes of the company yet very much alive on the outside forming legitimate front companies that allowed us to work with our business clients. A very visionary strategy," said Chase. "We re-emerged ten years ago and offered our unique services to the Bureau. We get additional funding, the authority of the government behind us without the interference of WSB oversight, our own operational offices and our own people making the decisions. The best of all worlds."
"The Bureau funds the Gems now?"
Chase shook his head. "They think they do. We still have the bulk of the original allocated funds. It's given us enormous flexibility. The way you structured and hid our operating funds was nothing short of ingenious."
"It seemed the best method at the time," said Sean.
"You hid us for years until we were ready for the spotlight. It's like ... like Lazarus rising from the dead."
"Deaths and resurrections ... they're a specialty of mine," said Sean taking a sip of his coffee. "I'm quite curious about the Plan's progress?"
"We've drafted a second twenty year plan. It's not as brilliant as yours I'm sure."
"I don't know about that. If Jon left the group to you, he must have felt that you were the right man for the job."
"A lot of us are second or third generation, Sean. Keeping things in the family is the best way to preserve secrecy and continuity. What the Bureau doesn't know about, it can't mess up."
"I see. You didn't come in via the WSB?"
"I did. Had to. But there are a few who received customized training - parent to child." Chase retrieved and opened a briefcase. "If you could, could you review our new plan?"
"No oaths? No loyalty tests?" asked Sean.
"Not necessary for you," said Chase. He slid the binder towards Sean. "Besides, we practice the Quisling Doctrine just like you devised it."
Sean said in monotone as if he was reciting a long remembered phrase. "Traitors, whistleblowers and informants are to be eliminated immediately without inquiry or mercy. No exceptions are to be made."
"It keeps things simple and culls the organization's rank and file most efficiently. We've never had any sort of infiltration. You've thought of everything." Chase raised his mug in a mocking toast. "I bow to the Master."