Unknown Location
Clang!
The door swung open. The bright lights of the corridor invaded the room's dim interior.
Squeak. Squeak.
Two orderlies wheeled in another gurney.
Charlotte willed her clenched fists to relax. Like her arms, her feet were tingling. She knew that the tingling would stop to be replaced by a welcome searing heat. The heat would fade leaving her free to move and control her legs.
She closed her eyes. She could be patient for a little while longer.
Robin entered her suite with Hilda behind her. She made a point to yawn and stretch.
"I'm really tired tonight. LIke you said I should rest for tomorrow," said Robin. "Can you bring my dinner early? I want to take a long hot shower before bedtime. I need to relax."
"How sensible of you. I'll go prepare your dinner. Say in two hours?" asked Hilda.
"Perfect," replied Robin. Her mind screamed that it was too close to Charlotte's delivery time. She had two exit points to choose from. There was an exit in the upper floors of the lab but she couldn't chance going back there and she wasn't entirely sure of the exit's actual location. She only knew that the laboratory staff used that exit instead of the tunnel one. The closest exit was the outside door in the tunnel. But with Charlotte's delivery time, there was bound to be activity around the tunnel. Robin had previously seen her patients wheeled out of the laboratory and into the tunnel. She would have to take her chances there. There was nothing she could do about it. She had two hours to prepare.
"Your usual soup and sandwich or something more fortifying for tomorrow. You do need to gain weight, Robin," said Hilda.
With her escape in mind, Robin said, "Well, I'm eating earlier than normal and you're right about the weight. How about a larger dinner and a cold sandwich for a late snack. Do you have anymore of those honey rice cakes?"
"I'll bring the whole bag of cakes along," replied Hilda.
As soon as Hilda left, Robin took stock of her meager closet. They were careful to never give her any coats or apparel that she could wear outside. Her clothes were rotated at random and each item was accounted for by Hilda. Even her shoes were limited to three pairs at any one time. She knew it was bitterly cold outside. She had seen snow and ice in the skylight. Her coworkers sometimes slipped and mentioned the weather and holidays. She had to dress for warmth, comfort, deception and speed. Without a backpack or a purse available, she'd either have to stuff what she could on her person or fashion some kind of bag.
Her eyes raked over her sitting room. She spotted a covered Bible on the shelf. She took it down. It was of plain, dark green canvas with a zipper all around and a long loop for carrying along one side. She removed the Bible from the cover. Inside, she was pleased to find a pen loop and a small zippered compartment.
Next, she took a pair of trainers from the closet and removed the shoe strings. She tied one end of both strings to the Bible cover's carrying loop. The loose ends she braided into one string which she planned to tie around a loop on her jeans. The cover was big enough to hold her hidden cache of supplies and medicines with room to spare for some food.
Robin stripped off her clothes and headed for the shower. Hilda would expect her to be readying for bed. She had to keep up appearances. Hilda knew her habits. Anything out of the ordinary would arouse her suspicions. That had to be avoided.
After dinner, Robin lay on the sofa ostensibly reading a new book while Hilda did a visual check of her quarters as she randomly did throughout the week. If Hilda noticed the Bible without its cover, she said nothing. Robin held her breath as Hilda inspected her bedroom.
Her ears caught every sound as bureau drawers were pulled out, the closet opened, the clothes and shoes counted, her pillows shaken and her bed covers inspected. Hilda was thorough but Robin knew her routine. Hilda varied the sequence of her search but always inspected the same things. Hilda's habitual nature was one that Robin had latched onto early on as a potential weakness plus her age. The older woman relegated the physical tasks to the the guards Ben and Jerry. Hilda was now examining her bedroom but would not be lifting the mattress very high. She would have the boys do that tomorrow. Robin knew this and had hidden her improvised getaway bag deep under her mattress. Said bag now contained her packet of supplies and medicines. Robin also knew that Hilda did not root around her closet as her last handler was wont to do. Instead, she merely counted off the contents. Robin's stripped shoes lay partially obscured by her other shoes. Hilda would see the heels and make her count from that. In the bathroom, Hilda paid more attention to the toilet and sink area than the shower. Behind her book, Robin smiled to herself.
"That's done, m'dear," said Hilda breezily as she came into the room. "Will there be anything else you need?"
Robin shook her head. She patted the bag of rice cakes beside her on the sofa. "I'm fine, Hilda. You have a good night."
Robin waited a full fifteen minutes after Hilda left before springing off the sofa and sprinting into her room. She pulled her nightgown. She opened her closet and began to dress. She had to dress in layers against the expected cold outside. She planned to get a coat at the earliest opportunity though. In the meantime, she donned a tanktop then the heaviest cotton t-shirt she had. Her cargo pants came next with their multitude of pockets. She would have preferred her jeans but pockets were more valuable.
Over the t-shirt came a gray long-sleeved, wool turtleneck blouse. It was the warmest item of apparel she had. She began to remove a cardigan sweater off its hanger when she heard a knock on the door. Her hand froze for a second before she leapt into bed and turned off her bedside lamp. Heart hammering, she snuggled under the covers pretending to be asleep.
She heard the beep of the electronic lock on the main door. The door slid open. Clothing rustled and soft footsteps sounded on the floor of her bedroom. Robin closed her eyes and tried to control her rapid breathing. One corner of her bed sagged.
A masculine voice said, "Hello, Robin."
"Robin?" came the voice once more.
Robin stirred very slowly as one caught between sleep and wakefulness would. Under the blankets her legs tensed. "Huh? Who's there?"
"I brought you something."
The bedside lamp turned on. Robin blinked in the nimbus of light. She felt a weight settle on her lower legs. Then slight taps on her knees, thighs and stomach.
Robin gasped.
Robin's eyes shifted from one visitor to another. One was welcome and the other was not. She clutched the bed covers to her as a soldier would hold his shield in a heated encounter on the battlefield. If only she had a sword or a gun in the other hand.
She groaned and said, "Good to have you back but I'm tired. Take Jack with you tonight. Please."
The reply was cloying in its sincerity. "Yes, of course. You've been working too much, my dear. Hilda told me about your weight loss. You must see to your health."
"The work is-"
"The work is not as critical as before. You may rest and relax."
"I can't lose my usefulness, can I, Peter?" asked Robin with a defiance. "That's the last thing we want."
Peter Krieg picked up Jack, a white Jack Russell terrier. He crooned. "Mommy's tired, Jack. You'll have to put up with me another night." He scratched the head of a whining Jack who looked at Robin with sad eyes. "Please, Robin, you upset the baby when you become ... difficult."
Robin knew she had no choice but to play along. She could not afford to upset him. He could take it out on the defenseless Jack and worse ruin her escape. She said through gritted teeth, "I'm sorry. I'm tired and my head is pounding."
"Too much work. Sleep in tomorrow," said Peter. His voice hardened as he added, "That is an order."
Robin wanted to accept graciously to get him out quickly but that would be out of character. If Peter said white, she would always say black. "I can't. I've got the last trials to analyze before the next variant can be started."
"That's not important."
"Since when?"
"Since Compound X proved to be so stable, useful and profitable," said Peter. "It's not as powerful as I would like but it's sufficient for now. I must say goodbye to my hopes of recreating the more powerful original formulation. You've done your best."
"The ... our project is being stopped?" asked Robin.
Peter ignored the question. "I shall wake you late tomorrow. No more work for you for the rest of the week. Rest."
Robin made sure she sounded bored when she said. "Moving again I suppose."
"No. We will be beginning a new project. I'm certain that your contribution will be invaluable."
"But the compounds are not finished and-" began Robin.
"For commercial purposes I believe it is. Perhaps we will revisit it some other time."
Robin tried again. "My latest formula is very promising. Can it be pushed into wider distribution?"
Peter's response came quickly. "No. Whatever you have in the lab now will have to remain in the experimental phase. In fact, distribution will be stopped. We have sufficient test data."
"What? All of them?" exclaimed Robin. "What about the people ... the subjects who need the injections to remain stable?"
Peter rose with Jack in his arms. "Unfortunate but unavoidable. I believe it's called collateral damage."
"What will happen to them?"
"I have no idea. It's no longer our concern. Taking care of them has been a dead weight around our necks for too long. It's time to ... let go of them," said Peter. He turned and began to walk away. Jack whined louder. "The lab will be cleaned and prepared for our new project starting tomorrow. You are free to rest until the lab is ready for you. Perhaps, we can go on an excursion. Would you like a short hike?"
Robin's mind focused on Peter's disregard for the people currently afflicted with compound-derived illnesses. She couldn't help but let her anger show. "What if I don't want to switch projects?"
"You know better than to ask for options."
Robin shrugged carelessly. "You won't get my best work."
"I believe I already have," Peter paused at the doorway. "Good night, my dear. I expect you to be in a more receptive mood at lunch tomorrow."
"Peter, is there news about my mother, my family?" asked Robin.
"It has been some time since you asked. Why ask now?"
Robin replied honestly. "Her birthday just passed. I can't help thinking about her. I assume that you have ... surveillance on her. Do you?"
"She's well by all reports. Thriving with her child and family," answered Peter. "You know the best way to ensure that she stays that way, don't you?"
In Robin's mind, the word child recalled the words that Charlotte had said to her about Anna and the double. She had to confirm if Charlotte was telling the truth. Robin asked, "A little bit of news is all I want. She's still in Pine Valley? I barely remember the place."
"No, I'm told that Anna Devane has moved back to Port Charles," said Peter watching Robin for her reaction. It was the first time Peter had ever said Anna's name. "It interests me that you neglected to inform me what an ... eclectic background your family has."
"I told you she was a police chief, didn't I?"
"Yes, you did," said Peter. "But you called her Anna Scorpio."
"That IS her name," said Robin firmly.
"But not the name that would arouse my full curiosity. Not back then. Also, she used that name for only a short time. There was little in the way of a paper trail other than the obituary. And, the picture there did not do her justice," said Peter. "Clever, my dear."
"I didn't lie."
"No. You just artfully omitted some imporant details. You were protecting her. I understand that."
Something about Peter's intensity when talking about Anna made Robin nervous. She asked, "Important?"
Peter chuckled. The sound made Robin feel sick to her stomach. "Had I known who your mother was, things would have gone very differently. But que sera sera. You need to rest and I need to see to our latest delivery before the client arrives."
"You're going to see her? The client is coming here?"
"The client's instructions were unusual. I hadn't planned on overseeing the transfer but I'm here now and why not? You get back to sleep," said Peter. "I apologize for waking you. See you at lunch."
With that, he left. Robin waited five minutes before springing out of bed and scrambling to finish dressing up. Around her neck she wound the long scarf Hilda had just given her. If she had to, she could fashion the scarf into a makeshift head covering. Her most comfortable trainers went on her feet. She tied her supply bag around a belt loop on her jeans. It only bulged slightly with the addition of some rice cakes. She made sure Greta's passcard was in one pocket.
Lastly, she slipped a picture taken at her parents' wedding from its small frame. In the picture, her younger self posed happily in front of Anna and Robert. She could still remember the buoyant joy she had felt all that day.
"I'm going to do my best to get home, Mom. Whatever it takes." Robin placed the photo in her bag and zipped it.
She ran to her sitting room and the electronic lock on the door. In her head a clock was ticking away. Ready or not, she had to escape. She ran Greta's card through the magnetic reader. The reader's status light flashed as the card was verified.
"C'mon. You have to work."
Tick, tock. Tick, tock.
The status light flashed green then disengaged the door locks.
Click.
Robin took a deep breath. Slowly, she opened the door listening all the while for any noises in the vicinity. She poked her head out then looked left and right. The corridor was empty.
She ran.