Bletchley Park, Milton Keynes, England
Heloise and Robert entered the main building from the rear. A bowed curator led them to large room with elegant if faded furniture. All the curtains on the tall windows had been drawn. Light from several lamps cast shadows against the wood wainscoting.
As they entered, the room's occupants grew silent and gazed at them. Heloise moved to greet and embrace several people. Robert stood where he was. He had the distinct feeling he was being studied, judged and found entirely lacking.
A very tall and lean man dressed for the country approached Robert with hand outstretched. The skin on his hand was parchment thin and covered with age spots. The wispy gray hair and gaunt features made him seem ancient. But his crisp diction and deep voice were pleasant to the ear. "Mr. Skinner, welcome to our group. Address me as Mr. Hatter if you please."
Robert had to look up. He shook Mr. Hatter's hand and was surprised by his strength. "Mr. Hatter."
"There are quite a few of us here. Nearly a full assembly I should say. But you are pressed for time so I shall introduce you only to the most insistent." Mr. Hatter put a hand on Robert's back and firmly pushed him forward.
"Our Red King is first. My lord king, Mr. Skinner." Mr. Hatter gestured to an ancient man in a wheelchair.
Though white with age, the king's hair was lush and neatly combed. Bushy eyebrows were perched low over gray eyes undimmed by age, a nose that had seen better days and thin lips that pinched into a grim line. His right hand was under the scarlet blanket that lay over his lap. His left hand was poised over a small console on the arm of his chair. With effort, he lifted his hand towards Robert. The Red King remarked, "Mr. Skinner, it remains to be seen if Jacques made a wise choice. I shall be watching with interest."
Unlike Mr. Hatter, the king's grip was slack and his fingers were curled inward. His voice made up for his physical weakness. It was controlled and modulated such that even a whisper was clearly audible. His word choices were precise and efficient.
Robert was getting more rattled by the second. These people were old yet they all exuded danger effortlessly. The hairs on the back of his neck rose. His palms grew sweaty. "Watching for what, um, sir?"
"Jacques was MY Scarecrow before my untimely accident," replied the Red King. "I knew Jacques from our boyhood times. You are unknown to me."
This new bit of information surprised Robert. "We have time to get to know one another."
"You are assuming that I care to expend the effort." He looked to his left. "Perhaps, my Queen feels differently."
A rustle of clothing and an elegant woman with thick silver hair, laughing blue eyes and cheekbones a model would kill for appeared. She lay a hand on the Red King's shoulder. Her voice when she spoke was smoky and alluring. "Mr. Skinner, forgive my King. He suffers few and sometimes no one save for myself. Please call me Augusta." She held out her hand.
Robert paused for a few seconds taken aback by Augusta's presence. There was something about her that made it impossible to look away. Was it the beauty that still lingered over her features? Or the keen intelligence and sly humor shining from her eyes? Or the graceful maturity that radiated from her every gesture? Or was it her voice that could set steel to melting? Without conscious thought, Robert raised Augusta's hand to his lips. "My pleasure, my lady."
"Another gallant won, my Queen," said Mr. Hatter.
"He simply has good taste," said a short wizened man to the Red King's right. His nasal voice revealed a slight Germanic accent. "Not a trait I have ever associated with Australians."
"Mr. Skinner, it is with dubious pleasure that I make known to you one Mr. Hare," said Mr. Hatter.
Mr. Hare did not extend a hand. Robert resorted to a nod. From what he could see, Mr. Hare was not a country gentleman like Mr. Hatter nor of lordly hauteur like the Red King. Mr. Hare reminded Robert of a bald humorless accountant. He was certainly dressed like one with his black tortoiseshell glasses and gray pinstripe suit obviously tailored just for him. The top of Mr. Hare's head did not quite reach Robert's shoulder. Robert had a sense that he'd met Mr. Hare before or someone like him. Mr. Hare tapped his cane on the floor. "We are wasting time. Get on with it, Hat."
Heloise and Robert were shown to their seats. The Red King remained to the side out of Robert's line of vision. Yet Robert sensed that he was being observed with exacting scrutiny. He sat up straighter. He had a sneaking suspicion that Anna would have fit in with this group like strawberries with cream at Wimbledon. Heck, she'd have all the men, even the Red King, eating out of the palm of her hand.
"Speaking on behalf of the group, Mr. Skinner, upon review, we felt your plan was ridiculously scaled, outrageously complex and doomed to a colossal failure," said Mr. Hatter. "We have been suitably humbled. Please accept our congratulations."
"Save it. We're not done yet," said Robert coolly.
"Plain speaking very good," said the Red King.
"As to the assignment and tasks our group was given, we may report all of them completed and one is in motion," said Mr. Hatter.
"Has Faison taken the bait?" asked Heloise. "We tried to make the brief as detailed as possible."
"It was appreciated, my dear," said Augusta. "An articulate, English brunette of striking beauty, sophisticated wits and lively daring was secured and sent on her way to P.K. Sinclair's book signing and fan gathering in Helsinki. After some effort on his part, she agreed to a dinner at a cozy restaurant far from the capital. I am confident of leaving the rest in her capable hands."
"She must be good if we haven't heard anything from or about Faison," said Robert.
"The brief was very informative. All his quirks, habits and inclinations documented by someone I judge to have known Faison extremely well. Our candidate studied the brief thoroughly and I saw to her preparations personally."
"We're not sure of his reaction. Too hard to predict. Will she be all right afterwards?"
"We take meticulous care of our own," replied Augusta.
Robert smiled at Augusta. "I won't worry then. I came here with the second phase of the operation."
"A second phase? How is it that we have only been advised of this now?" asked Mr. Hare.
"Because the second phase is really separate from the first and not developed beyond an uncertain framework," said Robert. "It involves you and your class."
"Explain," said the Red King. Robert wondered if the man had been a headmaster in a previous life.
Robert took a deep breath and began. "The first operation was … intended to eliminate Faison's primary support system - the DVX - by identifying then removing from the board those persons whom we have confirmed as having been turned or influenced mentally by Faison. This first operation should hit him like a … a blitzkrieg."
Several people flinched. Too late Robert realized that some if not all of those present probably had actual memories of buzz bombs hitting England or fighting the Nazis on the continent.
He cleared his throat and pressed on, "The second phase is for Faison's secondary support system. One that we know exists but have little in the way of solid evidence. In 1991 and 1992, Faison operated in Port Charles in collusion with the Cartel. We feel that we have systematically weakened or destroyed the sources of their funding - DS99, the Heritage Foundation to name only two. Faison had an instrument, a project, that he called the Nanny Network. The network used children's rhymes and stories to conceal records of missions, informers and many other things. We've tried to locate this network and have not been successful. The only clues we have are that it involves nannies and governesses all over the world, that information is passed from the nannies to Faison in some manner and, lastly, that Faison is not directly managing the network. There has to be a third party working for him."
"We cannot feel that Faison has lost all his resources and support until the Nanny Network has been dismantled," added Heloise.
"You are saying that … that our homes and families have been infiltrated? Not once but perhaps for a very long time through the generations?" asked Mr. Hatter. "That sounds preposterous."
"But not for Faison. The unbelievable is his trademark," said Robert. "His reach is … was so global because he knew who to target, who to subborn and who to watch for. Nannies are very observant and influential where their young charges are concerned. You can't deny that."
"But to contemplate that spies have been in our midst unremarked all this time is … makes me feel quite ill," said Mr. Hatter.
"Not spies," said Robert. He removed a flash drive from his pocket. He gave it to Mr. Hatter. "Please look through this. It's what we have on Faison's family, their research and work and what we suspect is the true purpose of the Nanny Network."
"Which is?" asked the Red King.
"To mold the young into adults susceptible and friendly to future overtures by Faison or by his operatives," said Robert. "I know from personal experience that Faison indulges in mind control experiments on the very young. And I know that his efforts are not ineffective or casual. His methods work."
"B-b-but you're implying th-that …" stuttered Mr. Hare.
"That Faison has the means, if he hasn't already, of influencing your government and other nations, through the very people running it," said Robert. "And it's all happening under your noses."
Moscow
The second DVX director retired General Josef Polushin burst into Constantine's office. Usually imaculate in appearance, Josef was dishevelled and unshaven. Behind him trailed seven hard-faced officers of the Russian army.
Josef bade his troopers to stay in the hallway as he closed Constantine's office door. Seeing his colleague's apparent lack of guards, Josef burst out, "What are you doing? Where are your guards? Why are you still here?"
"I cannot leave, Josef," said Constantine. "If you wish to go to your country dacha, that is your choice. My place is here."
"We are the most important targets. We must go into hiding. We can stop by your home for Ava. We must-"
Constantine's expression was cold and hard. "Ava and Nina are missing. They were not on the train from Sochi. My people are looking for them."
"No! Not Ava!" exclaimed Josef. "Maybe … hostages?"
"We both know that is not likely."
Constantine's assistant Boris entered with a stack of notes. "Sir, General Dimov collapsed in his bunker in Chechnya. Ambassador Turgev was found face down in his bath in Turkey. Two professors from the Polytechnic cannot be found. One doctor at the American clinic had a heart attack during surgery."
Josef paced by the window. "In his bunker? How?"
"General Dimov was driven to the bunker from the capital. Ten minutes after they arrived, the general began having convulsions then died."
"What of my request to the President?" asked Constantine.
"He has agreed to all terms. A declaration of national emergency will be broadcast in the next hour. All Eastern borders have been closed. Far west borders are at the highest security," said Boris. "All airports are closed. Military units are taking their places in Moscow, Volgograd and St. Petersburg. Airspace is secure. All foreign embassies are closed."
"What place is safe?" muttered Josef.
After more instructions from Constantine, his assistant left the two men alone.
"Go to your dacha, Josef. One of us must survive," said Constantine.
"You are the better choice," said Josef. "Who is doing this?"
"I do not know."
"Cesar. It must be him."
"Even he would not dare this kind of operation."
"He has destroyed whole villages, made hundreds of people disappear. He killed Arkady in front of us remember?" said Josef. "Hans was right. We should have helped him."
"Now is not the time. It is too late."
Boris returned holding out an envelope to the general. "A note was left for you by … by Madame Polushin."
"How did she know I was here?" Josef was puzzled but he took the envelope and began to open it. He read the note. "She is driving to the dacha. I told her to go hours ago. Strange." He put the note on Constantine's desk.
"Go join them. Now." Constantine patted Josef on the shoulder. "Cesar will want a full report. You must prepare one."
"The notebook. Our codes. You have them."
"I need them still. Boris will see that they are transferred to you." With gentle firmness, Constantine guided the other man to the door.
"You will find Ava and Nina safe. Believe that," said Josef.
"I will. I do," said Constantine. "Goodbye, Josef."
After Josef had gone, Constantine used a handkerchief to pick up the card and drop it into his metal wastebasket. He lit a match and watched silently as the flames consumed the card and other papers within.
Boris came in. "The general is away."
"You were prepared. Thank you."
"You cannot do it all, sir," said Boris.
"You have the codebook?"
"Yes. In my pocket."
"Keep it."
Boris' voice caught. "Are you certain?"
"We have worked together for eight years. I am very sure of … of you," said Constantine. He selected a paper from his desk. "This is my recommendation to the President for the creation of a new director and deputy director to report directly and only to the President. I have recommended you for a position you have earned. Type it and I shall sign it before I leave later."
General Hospital
Bobbie found Monica at the sixth floor hub talking with Tom. As the new Chief Of Staff, Tom was filling big shoes but Bobbie was confident he was up to the challenge.
Tom was saying, "Matt is taking up the slack for Patrick. I've told Patrick that he's not going to be on surgery rotation for at least another three weeks. Even then I'm going to watch him like a hawk for a while. For now him helping out at ER is enough on his plate."
Monica nodded. "Noah is due back in two weeks so that will lighten the load." She saw Bobbie approaching. "Hi, Bobbie."
"Actually Noah told me he was coming back early. He wants to be around for Patrick," said Bobbie.
"That's even better," said Tom.
"Since you're both here, I wanted to discuss the upcoming insurance review at the end of the year. That's why I wanted to see you, Bobbie," said Monica.
"That's the one we do every three years right?" asked Bobbie.
"Yes. We pass it and our rates for liability and malpractice stays the same and that means a happy Board of Directors and Trustees," said Monica. "This is Tom's first year of doing the prep work for the review and our new nursing coordinator is good but she's too new on the job. Bobbie you've done it with me for forever Can you work with Tom on it this year?"
"Yes but I couldn't commit a full work week to it. My agency is picking up," said Bobbie. "I can do it part-time."
"That's fine, Bobbie, and thank you," said Tom. "I remember how my father would be so grumpy before the review that Mom had to literally sit on him to calm him down."
"My blood pressure would stay up for weeks at a time. Our rates could double if we don't pass and that would mean budget cuts that no one wants to make," said Monica. "In the past, we've done our own internal audit to prepare for the review. That gives us time to spot issues and make corrections before the insurance examiners descend on us. No one on staff likes to be put under a microscope but that's what you'll have to do, Tom. Bobbie's handled auditing the last two years of nursing care with special emphasis on bedside patient experience like accidents, complaints, chronic issues, staff education requirements, labor shortages and things in general that we need to change to keep improving. Everything else from our surgery records to janitorial performance is on you, Tom."
"Wonderful," replied Tom. "Any advice on how to start?"
"Steve handed down his how-to checklists to me and I'm gladly handing it to you." Monica took a thick folder from under her clipboard and gave it to Tom. "Homework."
"I see a lot of take out in the next month."
Bobbie laughed. "It won't be that bad. Steve complained about it but he actually liked poking his nose into everything that made the hospital tick."
"Alan put the checklists into spreadsheets when it was his turn. They've saved my sanity a few times," said Monica.
"DigiMaze has a sale on laptops. I don't need an excuse to get a new one," said Tom.
"Andrew set up a business account for the hospital with rather generous discounts."
"How generous?"
"Extremely plus free delivery and installations and discounted rates on custom programming," said Monica. "He felt guilty about making a mess of the ER."
"He gave me one, too. I got new stuff for the office and a new ultraslim laptop for home. Lucky's working on my agency website," said Bobbie.
Tom rubbed his hands together. "It may be a good time to upgrade our systems. All of them."
"Monica, before I forget, what are our target areas this year?" asked Bobbie.
Monica explained for Tom's benefit. "During every audit, we pay extra attention to certain areas depending on current industry trends or our own gut feel. This year I would say it's the ER first. ER costs are skyrocketing but insurance and Medicare payments aren't. We can't turn people away but we have to figure out how to contain our costs without sacrificing quality of care. Second item to focus on would be cooperative billing and purchasing."
"Cooperative what?" asked Tom.
"It's what we call our interactions with municipal departments like police or fire and commercial institutions and vendors like drug companies, HVAC or even the nursing registry agency," said Monica. "Cooperative functions was something slapped together years ago by Rick Webber and Buzz Stryker. It was meant to make it quicker for us to attend to injured officers or firefighters but now we're using the same old process to handle injured suspects in custody or sometimes citizens that firefighters bring in. It means a quick turnaround on the ER level but a nightmare on the documentation end. We end up doing some back and forth with the patients after release. In some cases, we can't even find them to get the right billing information."
"And with all the new government regulations, we live, die and get paid based on the paperwork's accuracy and timeliness," said Tom.
"Exactly. Every hospital and clinic in the country is in the same boat," said Monica. "Any other questions?"
"Just one. What are you going to be doing with all your new free time?" asked Bobbie.
Monica smiled, "Having a social life again and doing more at ELQ. I need some new challenges outside of the hospital."
"And one of those is named Edgar?"
"Bobbie, really!"
"Who's Edgar?" asked Tom.
"I'm sure Bobbie will be more than happy to fill you in." Monica looked at her watch. "I'm late for a consult. I will say good luck to you both."
Port Charles Highway 62
Tiffany kept one eye on the road and another on the rear view mirror where she could keep an eye on Sean. In the back seat, Sean tightened an arm around Belle as his daughter chattered on about everything that had been happening in his absence.
"I did say I'd be back for your first dance, pumpkin," said Sean.
"It's not that big a deal, Daddy," said Belle. "We're staying for a half hour tops."
"Oh, you can't! You're supposed to dance the night away, giggle at all the cute boys and remember it for the rest of your life," said Tiffany. "And where is your dress?"
Belle sighed. "I decided to wear the dress I wore to the police Christmas party last year. It's frilly enough."
"Frilly enough? You were switched at birth. You are NOT my child!"
Sean choked on his laughter. "Sw-sw-honey, give-"
"Give her a break? Not this time," said Tiffany. "How do you expect people to come to you and be friends if they don't know you exist? Put on your best for one night and shine, baby. You're going to be the most GORGEOUS thing there! And with Andrew by your side, you will be BLINDING! The press will be there I'm sure 'cause the boy is news!"
Belle groaned. "We're going in through the side door."
Sean nudged his daughter. "The back door would be better. Old model car not Andrew's car. Maybe a cargo van."
"Sean!" exclaimed Tiffany. "You are not going to help her with some spy trick."
"She's not going to enjoy the dance if she's stalked by the press," said Sean.
"She has to learn to handle situations she doesn't like. She has the social skills. She just needs to exercise them," said Tiffany. "You don't have to like it all the time, sweetie, just some of the time."
"I guess," said Belle.
"When you put your mind to something, you can do anything," said Tiffany. "You're my daughter, aren't you?"
"Here's a tip. When you get there, find one thing that you like. Think about that and only that when you get stressed out. It'll help you keep your cool," advised Sean.
"Is that what you do, Daddy?" asked Belle.
"All the time. It works." Sean's phone rang and he answered it. "Donely."
"Sean, it's Tracy," came Tracy Quartermaine's voice. "I wanted to let you know that the ELQ Venture is due in the next forty-eight hours weather permitting."
"That's great. My dock will be more than ready to receive her. I'll see to the security myself," said Sean. "And I'll double check on the final details of storing the exhibit cargo."
"One more thing."
"Yes, Tracy?"
"We, Monica, Daddy and I, have discussed the matter of the legacy shares being sold out from under us. We thought we could wait but we can't," said Tracy. "We want to stop it once and for all as soon as possible. We need your help."
"You understand what this could require?" asked Sean in careful tones.
"Sonny may know the streets but I know the boardroom. We need him out of ELQ. I'll do what I have to," said Tracy. "For the family."
"You personally?"
"I can hardly hold Daddy back from the field but he can't do it anymore. Monica will be increasing her responsibilities at ELQ. Between her and Dillon, ELQ is in good hands. That will leave me free to do whatever you need me to do," Tracy's voice lowered. "Dillon and Monica are not to know anything in detail. Daddy and I have decided that's for the best. When do we start?"
Sean looked out the window. The passing landscape was a mirror to his racing thoughts. "Your timing is impeccable. I'm meeting our mutual friends tonight. I'll let them know. Tiffany has a resident mixer at the Court coming up. Why don't you and Edward attend?"
"Ah, I understand. We'll be there. Thank you, Sean."
Sean returned his phone to his pocket. He sat back and rubbed at his eyes with one hand.
Tiffany had heard the strain in her husband's voice during the call. "What did Tracy want?"
"Keep reminding me that I'm retired every chance you get," said Sean. "And never forget I love and adore you. Both of you." He dropped a kiss on his daughter's head. He leaned back and closed his eyes. "I need a nap. Wake me when we get to the Villa."
Tiffany kept silent but she made a mental note to drag everything out of Sean as soon as she could. He was keeping a secret from her. It was eating away at him from the inside. She said to herself, "We are going to dance at our baby's wedding. No secret is going to stop that dream."