The Cottage at Villa Scorpio
Anna made a pitcher of lemonade in the kitchen. She could hear the murmur of conversation in the living room as Vincent visited with his aunt and cousin and introduced Robin to them. As they had promised Andre, Robin and Vincent had headed for home. Anna could still remember the wave of relief that had swept over her once she'd seen Robin settling in at the cottage.
The kitchen door opened and Robin came in. "Mom, why are you hiding in the kitchen?"
Anna laughed. "I am not." She put the pitcher on a tray and began rummaging through cabinets looking for glasses. "Eve organized this place but I still don't have a clue where anything is."
"Did Eve decorate, too?" asked Robin.
"A bit yeah. She had a strong nesting drive. Don't you like it?"
"I do and I find that … disturbing. I mean were our tastes naturally the same or was it her pretending to be me?"
Anna looked with concern at her daughter. "She was you all the time until the weeks before she died. She was extensively programmed to be you. I'm not surprised that you like the decor."
"But it's like I'm walking in another person's shoes, Mom. I can't explain it better than that. It feels right and wrong at the same time. Wasn't there a part of her that was just hers and not mine?"
"Patrick and Emma," said Anna quietly.
Robin looked around the kitchen nervously, "Yeah them. Are they here?"
"Patrick left for work before you arrived. Emma is with her sitter in the Barn. Andrew made up a section as a playroom." Anna touched Robin's hand. "Don't feel you have to meet them right away. Ease into it. When you're ready."
"That could be never."
"Then it's never."
"You and Dad wouldn't like that. Or Andrew."
"No, we wouldn't but we would understand." Anna found the glasses and began placing several on another tray. "I suggest that you do what you can handle. What do you want to do?"
"Work on the antidote, see old friends and check out what Port Charles is like now. I thought I could start my life where it left off but everything that happened in Paris made me realize that was an idiotic idea. There's no going back but I'm not sure what direction to go or what decisions to make," said Robin. "But right now I want to know when Dad will be home. Where is he, Mom?"
Anna said, "He has one more meeting then he's heading home. Everything happened in a rush. I'm sorry."
"That's normal Scorpio speed. It's okay," said Robin with a smile. "I invited Frisco, Felicia, Maxie, Tiffany, Belle and Bobbie over for dinner late. Is that okay?"
"Of course it is. What about Sean?"
"He's out of town but Tiffany says he due in tonight. I hope he isn't too tired."
Anna groaned. "I really have to help out with that museum exhibit."
"What exhibit?" asked Robin.
"The black pearls, remember the ones that were on the jade buddhas I used to own?" asked Anna.
Robin nodded. "The ones I took and used as eyes for my doll. The ones that got me kidnapped. How could I forget my first real adventure, Mom."
"The Asian consortium wants a touring exhibit done around the pearls and what they've meant to the properity of the Asian communities around the country," explained Anna. "Mine and Sean's public relations firm was hired to create and manage the exhibit."
"The Asian Quarter. The docks. Kelly's. I have so many places I want to visit."
"I don't know if that's a good idea just yet, sweetheart."
"I'll be perfectly safe. I don't need a team of bodyguards."
"Too many people know you."
"I'll be in disguise. Short blond hair, hat, glasses, the works."
"Blonde, really?"
"I look nothing like me. You'll see. It's the perfect disguise."
"You'll have to prove it by me first," said Anna. "Today, get settled in. You can start work tomorrow."
"Andrew's at the lab. He said he'd give me a tour in an hour," said Robin. "I need to work while the information is still fresh in my head, Mom. Wait too long and I could forget critical things."
"Twenty-four hours won't make a difference surely."
Robin was thoughtful. "What's happening that you don't want me to know about?"
"Nothing."
"Mom, please. I know you too well. The air of tension is hard to miss. And the fact that people turn off televisions when I'm around is a dead giveaway."
Anna sighed. "Fine. There's an operation underway. It's taking a lot of resources and time at the moment. I'd rather not use staff to ensure you have coverage while you traipse around the city."
Robin smiled. She took the tray with the pitcher on it. "See, that wasn't so hard. Is this operation the reason Dad is not around?"
"You already know the answer to that one."
Mother and daughter carried the trays into the living room.
WSB HQ, New York City
"If I did not know better, I would say that it was the DVX. It is their method," said Alain Gaspard, head of French intelligence, over the conference line.
"I would agree if it were not the DVX's own people being targeted," said Luigi Fabiano of Interpol.
Sophie Moulton, MI5's director, said, "Are we certain that we have consulted every possible information source about this situation?"
"Yes, what HAS happened to WSB analytics?" asked Fabiano. "No advance prediction or suspicions?"
Connie replied flatly, "We did not get any warning of this specifically. However, ALL of us has known of instability within the DVX in the last few months."
"An internal purge is one thing but what we have on our hands is entirely different. It is not an isolated event," said Gaspard.
"We did pick up on some … whispers from less than reliable sources that something was afoot," added Moulton.
"And you did not take them seriously?" asked Fabiano.
"Luigi, these were from our Over The Hill people. Relics who ramble about the good old days of the OSI and the noble wars they fought. They're positively nostalgic for the Cold War days," answered Moulton. "What they were overheard saying made little sense at the time. Off hand comments at parties. Small notes passed around."
"What were they saying?" asked Connie.
"Phrases like 'the smoking lamp is dark' or 'the looking glass is foggy'. What would you have made of them? Any of you?"
"Those are old message but they meant something in to the old days and apparently still do," said Lionel Beam sitting next to Connie.
"The stranger thing is that a month back several of our generational operatives and staff began taking their long leaves," said Moulton. "I thought it was strange but I didn't follow up. Perhaps they were warned somehow. A few resigned outright while on vacation."
"Generational?" asked Gaspard.
"You're too young to know. Generational refers to second or third generation service people," said Moulton. "We're not the only ones with those."
"I see. I don't know how many I have," said Gaspard.
"Interpol has a dozen all over Europe. Most European resistance fighters died too young to have families. But you British have the most," said Fabiano.
"We are a nation of LeCarre story addicts even so the generational numbers are dwindling every year," said Moulton in a resigned tone.
"What does smoking lamp mean?" asked Gaspard.
Lionel spoke, "It's originally a naval term. Lamps were placed on the ship away from the magazines from which the men could light up their cigars and cigarettes. If the lamp was lit, it meant that it was all right to go on deck and relax. If the lamp was unlit, the men had to remain on duty. For our uses a lit lamp means all things are fine. A dark lamp meant to remain vigilant to danger close by."
"And the looking glass is a … a mirror, yes?"
"In common terms, yes. However, in this context, it refers to a book by Lewis Carroll called Through the Looking Glass," explained Sophie. "British spies had a habit of assigning pseudonyms based on literature, rhymes and history. I'm not certain but I heard from a generational friend that the Looking Glass means the spy game in general. There's an elaborate coding scheme based on characters, places and events in the book that a coder could use to talk about their work and send messages to other spies. If the messages were intercepted, any cryptographic method applied to it would come out as nonsense. If you knew the book, you would have to know the scheme to make head or tail of it. Even the punctuation meant something I think."
"A very English code then," said Gaspard.
"Not English. Educated families is better," said Sophie. "It was never an official code. Some aristocratic spies began to use it and it became a defacto code among them and only them. I know about it in general but no one knows more than a handful of phrases. It fell out of use after the last war."
"Yet it IS in use. Someone knew of something and sent out a warning," said Fabiano. "It is a vital piece of information that was overlooked."
"Does it really matter figuring out who knew and who didn't?" asked Connie. "We have a problem that could get bigger."
"We have been receiving fewer reports by the hour, perhaps the operation is finished," said Gaspard. "We can hope."
"We believe that it started in the East and spead westward." Connie looked at her notes. "I just received word of three deaths in the Washington D.C. Area and one mystery disappearance in Quebec. DVX connections confirmed."
"These are deaths we know about. What about those we do not?" asked Fabiano. "This … opportunity would be irresistible to freelance assassins, terrorists or organized crime."
"That's another strange thing. We've noticed a drop in terrorism-related traffic in the last few months. It's as if they're laying low, too."
"Are you saying that whoever is responsible has the power to warn other factions away? That is impossible!"
Sophie added, "I think it's entirely possible. Look, a handful of assassinations is routine but this! This was … is an operation of enormous scope that had to require meticulous and long-term planning. Maybe years in the making and a lot of money. The identities of these targets cross all lines - civilian, military, covert, public, legal and illegal. We can't call this a clean up operation. It's beyond that. And the increase in defections must play a part in this as well."
"Perhaps the rumors of this Smoke organization is true," said Gaspard. "A new player in the intelligence field who plays outside of the rules. Personally, I cannot believe that an operation like this has been kept secret. People talk. Money must change hands. No plan is so complete that there are no gaps. We all know this. And who are they after? Only the DVX?"
"Not too long ago we had a case of a … a rogue group targeting agents from various intelligence agencies - the WSB, the DVX and Interpol. Is this what's happening now?" asked Sophie.
"I remember that case," said Fabiano. "What does Robert Scorpio say?"
"He's no longer in active service, Luigi," said Connie. "He is happily retired and spoiling his grandchild."
"But he does still consult does he not?" asked Sophie. "Or the others - Donely? Devane? Anna lent us a hand four years ago. I've heard rumors that she and Robert are together again."
"I have heard nothing new from any of them about this situation," said Connie. Technically, she hadn't lied. "Anna and Robert have remarried recently and retired to the country. The WSB isn't on their agenda anymore but I'll send out feelers if that makes you all feel better."
"They have a breadth of experience which could prove useful, Connie. They may see patterns and clues we do not," said Sophie. "The DVX is the target but any of us could be next. We must agree on next steps."
Looking across the table at Connie, Lars Hansen tapped his wristwatch and mouthed the word "President." Connie nodded understanding.
"I have our top analysts on the problem. I hope to have something more concrete soon," said Connie.
"But we can't rely solely on that. Can you all dig around your old networks and find out what you can?" asked Sophie. "We share all information we discover, all right?"
Every party agreed.
"What do we tell our ministers and presidents?" asked Luigi.
"Internal DVX purge on steroids," said Connie. "It's the most plausible explanation. Until we learn more, we need to stay on message."
The meeting broke up soon after. Lars had scribbled some notes on his notepad. He slid his pad to Connie. "Here's what I'm telling the President, Connie. Can you take a quick look?" As Connie read, Lars made small talk. "I didn't realize that our case files were known outside of the agency."
"They're not however certain cases have had a global effect," said Lionel. "Most of them involve Robert Scorpio, Sean Donely or Anna Devane together or separately. Since they have been active on and off in our circles for decades, they have remained in people's minds."
"They were the best," said Lars enthusiastically then added, "According to the … the files I've read."
"Natural born spies are rare but those three had the right instincts and talents for our work," said Lionel. "I recommended Robert to become WSB managing director. I thought he was going to accept after his remarriage to Anna but other things got in the way."
"Other things?"
"Cesar Faison kidnapped Anna. Had that not happened I've always believed that Robert would have agreed to the job eventually," said Lionel. "He was an excellent police commissioner but he would have made as good a WSB director, if not better, as Sean. Being commissioner was good training in running an organization but he outgrew it. He needed a bigger challenge."
"Robert was always a lone wolf. Running the WSB might not have been a good fit," said Connie. She handed the pad to Hansen. "This is fine. Thank you for helping out."
"When he was solo, he was a model operative. However, I stand by my theory. There were hidden depths to Robert. I know. I did a full psychological study of him," said Lionel. "Given certain circumstances and with Anna and Sean supporting him, I believe that Robert, had he wanted to be more than an operative, would have surprised us all."
Kennedy International Airport
Sean fought fatigue as he entered the terminal. He'd tried to rest on the flight from London but sleep was impossible. He didn't dare take a sleeping pill either. Instead, he'd spent the time with his eyes closed and repeatedly going over his various strategies in his head. By the time the flight had landed, he'd felt as he'd gone through ten rounds of a boxing fight.
He checked the gate number of his flight to Port Charles. He had an hour to kill. He ordered a cup of coffee and a sandwich at a bar and grill. He tried without success to ignore the television news but the sound blared through out and it was all his fellow passengers had talked about.
"No specific terrorist group has made any claims of responsibility for the recent spate of mysterious disappearances and shocking deaths which are now widely considered to be assassinations," said the announcer. "The White House has issued several bulletins today. They stress that these acts have solely involved DVX operatives, informers and sympathizers. There are no indications that America or its allies are being targeted. The president urges all citizens to be alert but calm. There has been no public statement from the DVX."
"Calm he says? Bull!" said a bar patron. "They won't even say for sure what killed these people."
Another customer said out loud, "We should close all our borders right now. Protect our own first."
Perhaps the bartender had had enough of the negative and sensationalistic conversations. He changed the channel to a game show.
Sean called Tiffany. "Hi, honey."
"Sean! Where have you been? I've been calling and texting you for hours!" said Tiffany. "All I get is your voicemail."
"I'm at Kennedy waiting for my shuttle home. No need to panic."
There was a short pause. Sean guessed that Tiffany was controlling her temper mightily. "It's hard not to with everything I'm hearing. I was so worried for you."
"I'm fine. I'm not worth bothering with, honey."
"Maybe and maybe not. I want you home pronto."
"I'll be home in two hours. Okay?"
"Belle and I are going to pick you up at the airport. We'll be at the gate."
"You don't have to do-"
"I do. I do, Sean. You won't be able to talk me out of it. You hear?"
Sean chuckled. "I hear you."
"From the airport, we're headed to the Villa for dinner," said Tiffany. "Your godchild is home."
"She is?!" asked Sean.
"Surprised all us. You won't be too tired?"
"No way! Listen, I'll see if I can get on an earlier flight. Love you, honey." Sean ended the call and rushed to his gate. Problems of the world be damned, he couldn't wait to get home.
CHIONE Labs, Mersin, Turkey
Three people sat down for dinner with dinner being the last thing on their minds. Helena, more composed after some rest, sat at the head of the table. Charlotte was to her left and Peter on the right.
"Since our fortunes have turned, it is all the more reason to increase the manufacturing rate of Compound X," said Charlotte. She paid little attention to her food. Her mind was too intent on their current predicament.
"I agree," said Helena.
Peter cleared his throat and said in low firm tones, "That would not be wise."
"Why not?"
"The contaminant worries me."
"I thought the process was fool-proof."
"It is," insisted Peter.
"Then why the caution, Peter? Explain it to me, please."
"The production process is one we have refined and used for the last year. I don't believe that is the problem," said Peter putting his fork down. "The formulas have been developed and tested for many years. I even checked the data records. They have not been changed in months. I don't think the formulas are the problem. I suspect that the contamination comes from one or more of the chemicals we don't create ourselves but purchase from outside suppliers."
"Which ones?" asked Charlotte.
"I have to begin testing to find out."
"Why not switch suppliers? Someone more reputable if more costly," said Helena.
"Our current suppliers are discreet shall we say, Helena," said Charlotte. "Our transactions do not appear in a paper trail. It may take some time to find an equally cooperative supplier especially as we can no longer use Cassadine companies to route the financial transactions through."
Helena fumed. "I had forgotten that wrinkle. Damn Thanos and his meddling! He put ideas into Nikolas' head. I am sure of it!"
"We must accept the fact that we will have an obvious cash flow problem. Arielle has not fully secured Dino's cooperation. She needs more time that we do not have. Therefore, I propose another revenue source," said Charlotte.
"Such as?"
"I propose that we produce our own quantity of Fly and eliminate the middle men."
"Those middle men own the distribution channels, Charlotte. Allowing them to produce Fly from our supplied Compound X was part of our agreements with them," said Helena. "Less effort for us with maximum profits."
"At the time, operating expenses were low. That is not the case now. We must change with our circumstance," said Charlotte. "Fly is ready for worldwide distribution. You only chose Port Charles as a testing ground due to … to familiarity and existing contacts. The world is full of choices for us, Helena."
"We had another reason for choosing to be the manufacturers only," said Peter. "We could stay anonymous. That was Elena's goal from the beginning."
"But she is no longer here and the conditions have changed dramatically. We must change or else," persisted Charlotte.
A knock at the door halted all conversation. One of Charlotte's staff came in, handed her a note and left.
Charlotte read the note then frowned. "General Vladimir Dimov has been assassinated. So has Jurgen Erstad."
"Jurgen was one of our earliest backers. One in the Cartel," said Helena. "I don't remember Dimov."
"He was a … a friend of mine from the old days," said Charlotte. "A loyal friend who passed very useful information." She pounded a fist on the table. "I don't understand this! They were not DVX operatives."
"According to the news all the targets have had some tie to the DVX," said Helena.
"If that were so, I would be a target," replied Charlotte.
Helena smirked. "How convenient that you're dead to the world. Brava!"
"A lucky happenstance only," said Charlotte. "Most of my operatives are in hiding themselves. Who is doing this?"
"YOU can't find out?" asked Peter incredulously.
"Either no one knows anything or they are too frightened to talk. I've tried my usual intelligence methods to gain more information. I don't dare try anything too … creative and risk discovery."
"This is Scorpio's doing," said Helena as she swirled her wine glass.
"He's not ruthless enough."
"Isn't he? He went after Elena. Killed her," countered Helena.
"He thought we had his child," said Charlotte.
"It is mere proof that given sufficient cause, he is capable of anything."
"Your feelings are blinding you to logic, Helena."
"And your logic blinds you to possibilities," said Helena. "I've known Scorpio far longer than I care to. He had a part in killing my husband. He turned assassin and mercenary for hire for the WSB. He humiliated me in public. He trapped Elena and caused her death. I have no proof but I suspect that he aided Jacques Garnier. He has resources limited ones but he has them. He is a man of purpose. Once set on a course, he does not turn away easily."
"He has no reason to go against the DVX and their allies," said Charlotte. "It's too farfetched."
"Not one we know of," said Helena. "That does not mean he does not have a reason. Or that he is acting alone."
"Anna?"
Helena's nostrils flared and her eyes narrowed. "There is something more to her in all this. I know it. I feel it. It's almost like they are on opposite ends of a rubber band. Stretch it and they regain shape and position as before. Cut the band, they remain still connected. Together or not, they remain linked and drawn to the other." She looked at Charlotte. "I must apologize."
"For what?" asked Charlotte.
"I doubted the wisdom of your original strategy. Dimitri and Robert are both strong, willful and capable men. However, they are stronger with their women at their side," said Helena. "Targeting their children only aroused their anger. Target Alexandra and Anna and the men will fold."
Charlotte grinned. "They will be quite lost."
"Shouldn't we be focused on our own survival instead of … of old vendettas?" asked Peter.
"It's all just dinner conversation," said Helena. "You should concentrate on what you do best, Peter. Leave other trivial matters to us."
"We were only indulging in some … wishful planning," said Charlotte.
The Cottage at Villa Scorpio
In the living room, Anna listened as Ava told stories about a young Vincent prodded mercilessly by Robin.
Anna's phone chimed. She excused herself. "Yes, Raine?"
"Dani has a nibble on the Curic hotline," said Raine.
"Is it Franjo?"
"No way to tell for certain without a voice print," said Raine. "He wants a meeting. Tonight. Time and place of his choosing."
"I don't like the sound of that but tell Dani to make arrangements." Anna ended the call. "Finish one thing and two more things pop up. When are we going to be done, Robert?"