Garnier Residence, Paris
Heloise ran a manicured fingernail along the tops of several dozen cream linen envelopes lined up in a row inside an ornate wooden box. In front of her standing on the opposite side of the table, Andre attempted to extract an envelope. He got a light tap on his wrist for his trouble.
"You should know better," admonished Heloise.
"I just want to know who gets the next envelope," answered Andre.
"I do not know. I have not looked."
Andre gave her a look of disbelief. "Of course you have."
"None of them have names only numbers. Jacques' letters indicate which number to select depending upon the outcome of some event. Once I read the letter, I must follow every directive absolutely," said Heloise. "He is even more mysterious in death than in life."
"What event are you waiting for?" asked Andre of his wife.
"Anna meeting the Red Queen. How Jacques divined that such would ever happen is a complete mystery to me," said Heloise. "Robert needs to interact with the Court as Abelard's duties demand but why Anna? Why so specific to Augusta?"
"Abelard knows all and reveals less than nothing. I don't know how many times Jacques said that while he was training me," said Andre studying the box of letters intently turning the box in various directions. "Jacques was on his deathbed when he dictated these letters to Salim. What could be so vital? And, as important as it was, why didn't he just call and tell us?"
Heloise touched his cheek. "You are so American, mon cher."
"I like to get to the point. Besides, I don't like not telling Robert everything we know."
"We do not know much more than he does."
"But what we do know affects him greatly. He and Anna have always been good friends to me. They accepted my friendship when others turned their backs. I know how much Robert hates being kept in the dark, Heloise. Even I wouldn't push him too far."
"Warning received but I have my orders and in my heart I feel that what we are doing is good and right," said Heloise.
"The end justifies the means?"
"You are too close to Robert. That is why Jacques did not give this charge to you," said Heloise.
"Is that in the letter he wrote to you?"
"Yes and many other things." Heloise touched the box. "All that Jacques has done was meant to provide protection not conflict. What would Anna and Robert say if they knew that our alliance with them is based entirely on our own self interest and goals?"
"They would understand."
"Non! All they know is Faison and ending his influence in their lives. That is their focus and rightfully so," said Heloise.
"And being rid of Faison helps us. I don't see why we can't tell them."
"Because killing Faison is only the first step. It is the most critical step but only the first that must be taken if we are to end the Game once and for all," said Heloise. "I cannot have our children live as I and my family have done for generations. I will do what I must to assure that they may live a life of THEIR choosing not one forced on them."
"It's not guaranteed that we can end it. What is this the … the third attempt?"
"Fourth. But we have the advantage of complete secrecy. No one knows of this plan outside of you, me and Giles. That secrecy protects all of us including Anna and Robert though they are unaware of it. That is how it MUST remain if we are to be successful."
"And I suppose Jacques has a plan if we can't end it?" asked Andre.
"He does."
"And?"
Heloise walked away. Andre's eyes followed her as she paused by the window and stared out. "If we cannot end it, then we must ensure three things. One, that balance is restored and no side has any advantage over another. That includes our side."
Andre frowned. "That could mean working against the Scorpios' interests."
"Unfortunately, yes," said Heloise. "Second, we must take care that Andrew is NEVER placed in a position where Faison can influence him too much."
"Check that off. It's done."
"Is it really?" asked Heloise turning around and fixing Andre with a hard stare.
"Andrew is firmly a Scorpio now. Everything that Faison did to him as a child has been removed," said Andre.
"Has it? We always assumed that what Salim told us of Andrew's upbringing was the truth. But, Salim was under Faison's control all along. How can we trust what he has told us? Andrew was a malleable innocent under the control of an unscrupulous brilliant man. I cannot believe that Salim was privy to all that Faison may have taught Andrew." Heloise's eyes narrowed. "I even suspect that Faison murdered Salim."
"How? He wasn't alone with him. Ever."
"Because all of it was too convenient. Faison appears out of the blue and-"
"No doubt attracted by the event being Anna and Robert's marriage," said Andre.
"Which was concurrent with Salim's conscience and concern over Andrew overriding Faison's mental programming and Andrew's embedded persona influencing his life," said Heloise. "How convenient that Faison could eliminate a disloyal associate, earn Anna's favorable regard by removing the persona and position himself in Andrew's life once again. So much accomplished in one master stroke."
"You may be giving him too much credit. How could he have known that he could get those chances?"
"Not known but he could have prepared for it. Much like he trained Andrew to prepare for different scenarios. When the opportunities presented themselves, he took advantage of them and none of us aware of any of it," said Heloise. "That is true deviousness of which few are capable. A sly word here or there begins a rumor. An anonymous bribe assures a pardon. A whisper in the dark seals the fate of the unwary pawn. According to my parents recollections, that is how the Kriegs have always carried out their plans - behind the scenes, latching on to opportunities, cultivating allies who would be useful scapegoats and raising the gullible pawns to heights of delusional grandeur yet carefully positioning them for a devastating fall if success is out of reach."
"I suppose that's possible. You have only suspicions though," said Andre. "Robin took notes. I'll take a look at them. Maybe there's proof."
"I doubt that Faison would have been so careless as to be sloppy," said Heloise. "Despite his heart condition, Salim was a healthy and vigorous man used to the stresses of our lives. I find the timing of his heart attack as highly suspicious. We know what Andrew is … was capable of once he has a subject in thrall. Is it so unimaginable that Faison could have mentally triggered Salim's attack?"
Andre was silent for a few minutes digesting this possibility. "Have you told anyone else about this? Salim's family?"
"Of course not. His family and sect would be honor-bound to avenge his death. Assassins running amok we do not need," said Heloise. "Nyssa was very close to her father. She would take it badly. Andrew did not have time to condition her. She would be highly vulnerable to Faison's hypnotic powers. She is one of Robert's proteges. He is very invested in her future."
"I'm beginning to think you're right about Salim," said Andre. "And we can't do anything about it can we?"
"No. Not yet. Andrew suspects nothing and he must not pursue an inquiry. He would confront Faison which we cannot have. Robert's resolve would harden even more as his anger increases. Anna would feel more guilt. These are distractions that they cannot afford," said Heloise. "Knowledge about the Game, the Families or the Court would also be distracting. Do you see why we must not reveal too much too soon to them?"
"Yes but I know I'll change my mind later," said Andre. "That's one and two. What's the third part of Jacques' alternate plan?"
"It is the most cryptic of all. The third task is to find the Black King and aid him to regain his rightful place and power," said Heloise.
"There is no Black King only Red and White."
"There was a Black King long ago. According to Jacques' note, a clue to the Black King lies inside Faison's boxes. Two chess figurines."
Andre snapped his fingers. "The curiosity boxes in the vaults. Robert assigned Giles to catalog their contents. Might as well get a head start on some discovery."
"Be careful. Jacques is very specific that we do not seek out the Black King until the need is greatest."
"And?"
Heloise shrugged. "That is all. I said it was cryptic. It sounds an impossible task." She looked at her watch. "I will return in time for dinner."
"Where are you going?" asked Andre.
"The Bibliothèque nationale for some research. I know I have seen the White King before in an old newspaper I believe. Perhaps the archives in the library will help," said Heloise.
"Jacques did not encourage too much familiarity with the Families and the Court," said Andre.
"Yet his knowledge of them and vice versa is entirely too familiar," countered Heloise. "Like you, I do question Jacques' method in giving us only the information he foresaw would be necessary and useful. My family provided goods and services to the member families but we knew little about the inner workings, the alliances, the rivalries. We must know more about them. We are no longer their pawns, Andre, but we are not yet their equal. We, the Club, need to be their equals. That is MY goal not Jacques' charge but completely MINE. Now that you know my mind, will you support me or not?"
"Always and in everything," said Andre. "What would you have done if I didn't?"
Heloise opened a desk drawer and took out an envelop. She held it out to Andre. "I would have accepted Celia's invitation that we have lunch with her the next time she is in Paris. Holly told her about us."
Andre took the letter and read it. "To Doctor Grant Andrews?"
"Holly did tell her your real name now. Why did she use your old identity?" asked Heloise.
"Because sometimes she can be a self-centered twit." Andre began to tear the letter into pieces. With one hand, he swept them across the table and into the waste basket.
"I'd like to meet her. In this day, ex-spouses can be civil," said Heloise with a small smile. "She's an accomplished artist isn't she? Maybe she could have a showing at my gallery. When we were in Vienna, Holly showed me a recent picture. Celia is still a beautiful woman. A newly divorced woman I hear."
Andre walked towards his wife and took her hand in his. "Celia had my heart for a few years, but, my love, you have my soul. Where you go, I will never be far behind. Where you will not go, I will. All of that holds true in this life and the next."
Heloise stroked her husband's face. "I would fight for you. If she tried anything, it would be war."
Andre chuckled. "You would win without firing a shot."
"Really?" asked Heloise in a coy tone. "Are you very sure?"
"Darling, you would only need to show up for that lunch."
"Well then we must put it to the test," said Heloise. "Her website has her in Paris next month for some social event."
Andre groaned. "It would be torture. For me."
Heloise smiled. "But for me so potentially entertaining."
"Why do you have this need to know Celia? I haven't thought of her in decades," said Andre.
"Holly and Anna have such divergent opinions of her that I want to see who's right," replied Heloise. "Is Celia a self-righteous, meddling harpy or a fun, ever-loyal friend? And I want to see for myself what qualities of hers made you fall in love with her."
"Compared to now, I was a shallow, immature man when I was with her," said Andre. "Sandrine has Marcel at his horse riding lessons leaving our afternoon to ourselves. Why are we talking about my ex when we can be spending time together? Do you really have to the hunt in the archives right now?" He began to lead her away.
"QUALITY time?" asked Heloise quickening her steps.
"Is there any other?" Andre surprised his wife by easily picking her up in his arms and ascending the stairs to their bedroom.
Emergency Room, General Hospital
The paramedics burst through the double-wide doors dragging two gurneys behind them. The emergency room staff were immediately on alert.
"What do you have?" asked the night's attending doctor, Leo Julian.
"Two males mid-twenties unconscious and unresponsive. According to witnesses, their car was hit by lightning twice," said the first paramedic.
"Lightning? It's a clear night outside," said Leo.
"Not in the last forty minutes or so, doc," said the second paramedic. "Our firehouse got three calls just as we were leaving."
"There are three more ambulances behind us. You're going to have a busy night," said the first paramedic. His walkie talkie squawked. It was another accident.
Winston School
In the school's second gymnasium, the new captain of the Kestrel, Nyssa Puri, kept a wary eye on Tania Lowell head of the WSB team charged with Andrew's security. By coincidence, both women were relatively inexperienced leading a security team. Nyssa vowed that her team would carry themselves with dignity and professionalism or die trying. She glanced at the two youngest of her ship's crew, Makeen and Larraj, who were acting as Andrew's personal security. Four more crew members were held in reserve in a van parked in the school parking lot. At the Villa, Ivan Korolev's team of defectors were the backup to the backup. Presumably, they were watching the video feed in the Barn and holding themselves ready if they were needed.
There was no question that the stoic, hyper-loyal Thuggees were the most deadly of Andrew's security corp and it was for those qualities that Anna had assigned Nyssa's team to the assignment. However, Andrew was now a public figure, his security team had to have a bit more finesse especially when in the city. Thuggees were trained for stealth infiltration and extricating oneself from problems in the most efficient manner. There was little thought made to minimizing collateral damage or cleaning up the mess. Enter the Russians.
Nyssa had not been in favor of working with the arrogant Ivan but he had made a sound argument about his team's familiarity with Andrew and the city and higher experience in urban security. Nyssa's team would get Andrew and Belle out of any immediate trouble and Ivan's team would support their retreat. Explaining any damage would be the WSB's responsibility. Agent Lowell had already been nervous about being the sole official protection team and the added duty of damage control was nerve-wracking.
The Kestrel crew were all of the Thuggee sect and loyal to herself and Andrew. But she was sure that none of them had ever imagined having to attend a teen school dance. Makeen and Larraj had been enthusiastic about the assignment. They had rented tuxedoes and shoes and had Nestor fit them with an internal harness system that allowed them to carry an impressive range of deadly armaments under the tuxedoes. On the surface, the assignment was casual. They only had to keep Andrew in visual sight every second. A few times they were to discreetly record the evening using the miniaturized video cameras in their suits. That had sounded easy. It wasn't.
"Maybe a school dance wasn't the best of first assignments," muttered Nyssa. She'd dressed in a navy blue masculine pant suit but that did not deter the glances of hormonal boys. She kept her exotic features as stern and unfriendly as possible.
"I'll take this over a shootout in a mountain resort," murmured Tania absently listening to her earpiece as her team executed a textbook security sweep over the entire school. There were no lurking gunmen, hidden bombs or suspicious loiterers.
"I would prefer that actually. At least you could shoot back," replied Nyssa thinking back on their arrival at the school.
Andrew and Belle had been ambushed at the school's side entrance by paparazzi who had sprang out of darkened cars as their quarry reached the door. Fortunately, Makeen and Larraj had remembered Nyssa's instruction to not give in to first impulse and destroy the paparazzi cameras. Each had taken a position on either side of Andrew and Belle and hustled them into the school behind Nyssa who had taken point. The WSB team had the rear guard position.
"Captain Puri, security sweep reports negative," said Tania in formal tones.
"Thank you, Agent Lowell. Your assistance is appreciated," responded Nyssa just as formally.
"Glad to help out."
The cavernous second gymnasium had been turned into a semblance of an outdoor cafe. The buffet table was in the middle of the room with smaller tables scattered around it. Each table had a large electric candle in the middle. Rows of fairy lights lined the walls all around. Rock music from the dance hall filtered in.
Belle and Andrew held court at a table. They were surrounded by a gaggle of girls.
Tania sighed. "My dances were never this fancy."
"Four older brothers. No social life," countered Nyssa. "But this is very fine. I do like it."
Tania edged a few steps closer to Nyssa. "A … a professional question, Captain."
"Yes?"
"How long have you known Mr. Scorpio?" asked Tania.
"Since he was eight. My father treated him as one of his own."
"You're practically family."
"That is accurate." Nyssa's eyes scanned the room. Many were sitting at the tables. A few formed clumps in the far corners of the room. She exhaled a deep breath. Another uneventful thirty minutes had passed. One more hour to Andrew's scheduled departure. She never looked forward to returning to the Kestrel more.
All evening, Nyssa had watched Andrew for any signs of social-induced discomfort. To her surprise, he'd seemed perfectly at ease. She'd watched anxious as an older sister as he and Belle made their entrance into the makeshift dance hall in the first gymnasium. Nyssa had been amused at the students' reactions from pleasant surprise to avid curiosity.
"Ah, you were with the Paris police weren't you?" asked Tania.
"I was in the detective unit," replied Nyssa. "Before that I served as a regular officer in Calais."
"Apologize? She's a fake!" yelled a student standing close to Andrew's table.
Andrew stood up suddenly. His chair crashed to the floor. He faced off against the boy across the table. Nyssa was too far away to hear what Andrew was saying but his face was clear to her. Andrew was very angry.
"You think you're better than us?" asked the boy. "Need your bodyguards to fight for you?"
SHREEK!
The feedback tone screamed through Nyssa's earpiece. She changed the volume and said, "Report!"
The communication from the team in the van was garbled and full of static. "Storm … incoming … electrical disturbance … contact not … storm."
"No storm was forecast tonight!" yelled Nyssa. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tania was also listening to a similar report from her team.
KA-RA-BOOM!
The lights went out for nearly minute. Flashlights lit, Nyssa and Tania ran towards Belle and Andrew's table pushing aside students in their haste.
Lightning flashed against the gymnasium windows set close to the ceiling. Emergency lights activated leaving most of the gymnasium in darkness.
KA-RA-BOOM!
The women reached the table but Belle and Andrew were gone.
Majestic Theater
Robert entered the box and sat down beside Sean.
"We haven't had a chance to really talk," said Robert.
"You've been very busy. You and Anna both," said Sean.
"In the old days we made time for each other," said Robert. "Look, Sean, it's my day for mending fences. Luke and I are on speaking terms again. And I want the same for us two."
"We're speaking now aren't we?"
"You're not going to make this easy on me."
"It would help if I knew what you were talking about, Robert."
"Anna told me that you've felt left out and ignored."
"Anna and I had words. We both lost it but it's over. I'm fine."
Robert studied Sean closely. "Are you? You look wiped out."
"Do I? Just too much work. I passed forty a long time ago."
"Yeah, that museum exhibit. Planning that national tour can't be easy."
"I have staff for that. It's the move and Robin and the operation against D99. It's a lot of things happening back to back. I don't get a chance to recover," said Sean. "Don't worry about me."
"But I do. So does Anna. That's why we haven't included you in very much. Well, aside from Tiff killing me," said Robert. "We don't want anything to happen to you. You should be enjoying life and-"
"Robert, I'm not ready for a nursing home yet," said Sean curtly.
"I know that. I meant-"
"I know what you meant. I'm not very useful to your operation. I understand."
"It's not that! I swear it isn't," said Robert.
"Methinks the Aussie protests too much," said Sean. "The times that I could shoulder a full operation is in the past. I'm a … a role player now. That's the best way for me to help."
"That's not it. Let me try to explain it this way. When Anna and I were gone, you and Mac and Tiff were there for Robin. You gave her your love, your time, your energy," said Robert. "Robin's told me that she didn't make it easy on you, Tiff, Felicia or Mac."
"That's what godfather's do."
"Godfathers don't create trust funds for their goddaughter's medication and school expenses. Godfathers don't put aside their own pain to support their goddaughter through the loss of her parents," said Robert. "Mac is the best uncle anyone could have now but not back then. He was suffering himself. It was you, all you, that got Robin through that hellish period of time. It's your turn like it is Mac's to not be burdened by the fallout of mine and Anna's years away."
"Robin has never been a burden," said Sean.
"It's mine and Anna's goal to fully take possession of our lives. This means settling old scores and preventing new ones. It's messy and getting messier every day," said Robert. "But it's our mess not yours or Mac's."
"A mess named Faison?"
"Yes."
"Faison was my enemy before he was yours and Anna's."
"True. But he's afraid of you. Other than poisoning Tiff, Faison hasn't affected your life to the extent he has mine and Anna's."
"He hasn't. At least not directly," said Sean choosing his words so as not to lie entirely.
"So, our mess and our problem to solve. This doesn't mean that we don't need your help because I screwed up."
"You?"
Robert grinned. "I'm not infallible. I know that now. We will listen to your advice going forward. Promise."
"I hear a but in there," said Sean.
Robert's expression turned grave. "Anna wants to tell you everything we're doing. I disagree and I haven't changed my mind. The first lesson you taught me was to listen to my gut. My gut is telling me that it's not a good idea or not the right time to let you in all the way."
Sean nodded but said nothing.
"I'm sure that even if we tell you half of the story you'll figure out the rest on your own," said Robert. "It has to be this way and I'm sorry if it upsets you."
"I also taught you to use your resources, all of them, to their best effect. You have a great team, Robert, but you're lacking in the experience department with Salim, Simms and Jacques gone."
Robert winced. "Leave it to you to go for the jugular."
"Just stating the obvious." Sean put a hand on Robert's shoulder. "I'll take whatever you can tell me and when. I'll assist you when you ask for help. But you have to consider me an asset for what I can do now." He tapped his index finger against his temple. "This is all I got but modesty aside it's pretty darn good."
"That's why you're in the reserve in a way. I need you to use that brain of yours to keep my kids safe if things fall apart. Risking you in our operations is a no-no," said Robert. "If you know too much, you're at risk. No getting around that."
"That leaves us back where we started," said Sean.
"We've cleared the air. We know the boundaries. That's progress," said Robert.
"That's one way of looking at it," replied Sean. "Question. Why? Why keep going after Faison? For the first time, you have your family intact. You can have the life you lost. You should take your own advice and enjoy that life. Do what you want not what you need to do. This is your time. You, me, Anna, Frisco, we've lived for so long on the edge that it's hard to think there's another life for us. You don't have to live on the edge anymore."
Robert took his time answering and when he spoke it was with a note of wistfulness. "I want to be there for Robin and Andrew for as long as possible. I want to stroll along the river at sunset with Anna everyday for the next twenty years and have cocktails waiting at the house. I want Robin to smile and not see any sadness in her eyes. I want to hear Andrew call me Dad just the same as Robin does. I want the little things that no photograph or video can capture."
"Then do it. You've always tried to do the right thing. Who's to say that it's wrong to do what you want instead?"
"I won't have that time if I let Faison go," said Robert.
"You've taken out his biggest pawn … I mean his ally - the DVX. He has nothing left to use against you. Not really," said Sean.
"You let him go in the seventies. I couldn't do the job in 1992. It's 2009, Sean, and it has to be done," said Robert. "Faison is a cancer. One thing I've learned from my treatments is that there's only one way to deal with the Big C - kill it. Look in every place you can and terminate the cells before they can multiply. I will never stop putting pressure on Faison until he's dead. I can't."
"This is way too personal. You've lost all objectivity. This isn't going to end until you're BOTH dead."
"That's what Anna's afraid of."
"You ought to listen to her if not to me."
"That's a problem. You and Anna usually think alike."
"What does that mean?" asked Sean.
"You two like to play games and win by outwitting your opponents. Finesse not force. Chess not boxing. Me? I just want to get the job done as finally and cleanly as I can," said Robert.
"I care about the consequences of winning. It's not black or white. You don't always get the outcome you want so take care how you go about winning," said Sean. "Unlike me, Anna decides with her heart. That's not black or white either."
"So, instead of going for a decisive victory, you, great mastermind, plot how to deflect the damage and tweak the consequences into something that fits your goals. That's your way of winning," said Robert. "How close am I?"
"Damn near."
"In the years I planned out my strategy against Faison, I did a lot of remembering and analysis, especially about you."
"We've known each for years. You know me inside out," said Sean.
"Know your target as best as you can. You taught me that. I decided that my best tactic was to figure out how you think. You and Faison are alike that if I figured you out then I could do the same with him. It took a long time but I did it," said Robert. "In the early days, you weren't my friend. You were my boss."
"Robert, that's not-" began Sean.
Robert stopped him with a raised hand. "Oh, you cared about your people. Absolutely. But you didn't hesitate to maneuver us to fit your agenda."
"This about breaking up your marriage to Anna?"
"Our marriage didn't fit your agenda but you couldn't have us leave the Bureau in a body bag or under our own power. You conspired with Faison, your number one enemy, to change the ending. Our marriage was a casualty but we lived," said Robert.
"You make me sound like a cold-hearted bastard."
"We all have had to be one at some point in our lives," said Robert. "I don't hold that against you, Sean. We were different people then. My point is if you had had a simpler agenda and if Anna had told me that she'd done that last job to save me, we could have done away with Faison before he became the cancer he is. But we let him go three times. That's one too many."
"That's a nice fairy tale, old buddy," hissed Sean. "Do you think your way would have worked? Anna would still have been a double agent. You would have still felt personal and professional betrayal. No way could you have forgiven her. You would have filed for divorce faster."
"I could have found out that Anna was pregnant and not left her. The Swede wouldn't have been accused of being the traitor and-"
"And I would have picked another patsy to take the Swede's place," said Sean. "I would have found another way to save you and Anna. Because Faison wasn't the issue then and he's not now. It's the people I care about. So, yeah, I will tweak and lie and do whatever I have to do to get the best possible outcome. It's not possible to get the ideal result. Ever. It's usually a mishmash of good and bad. You live with the good and find a way to swallow the bad. Your way of winning is one way, Robert. It's not the only way."
Robert looked hard at his oldest friend. "It is for me."
"Then you haven't learned anything," insisted Sean. "You're going to keep bumbling into things that you have no business being around. And you're going to drag Anna down with you. Someone will get hurt, maybe die. You'll have no one to blame but yourself and-"
The lights flickered twice. The loud runway music died. The sounds of the furious storm outside could finally be heard. The faint noise of ambulance sirens made for high pitched counterpoints to the rumbling might of nature.
KA-RA-BOOM!
The lights flickered twice once more before staying lit as the generators took over providing power. The theater had been designed and built by the federal government with multiple service fail safes. It could handle a winter storm with no problems. The music came back on and the show went on.
"You were saying?" asked Robert.
"Why bother? You're not listening." With that, Sean rose to his feet and made his way out of the box.
"Sean, mate, please," said Robert after Sean's retreating back. "You … we can't leave it like this!"
Sean made no reply and didn't look back.
KA-RA-BOOM!
Majestic Theater Lobby
Larry Ashton, financier and social bon vivant, sat by the tall lobby windows. He'd watched the storm surge into the city and stayed to see its full fury unleashed.
He looked at his watched. "Right on time." He took a sip of his martini. So intently did he watch that he didn't hear someone approaching.
"I thought you'd be ogling the models," said Tracy walking up to her ex-husband. "Where is that tall blonde you came with?"
"I needed some air." Larry gestured at the storm. "What an utterly brutal way for Mother Nature to remind us how powerful she is and what true power truly is."
"Or how insignificant we all are despite our egos telling us otherwise," said Tracy.
"What a way YOU have of pulling me back crashing to the earth, Tracy."
"It's a gift," said Tracy. "Since you're drinking alone, care for some company?"
"Certainly." Gallantly, he positioned an empty chair next to his. "Have a seat."
Tracy sat down. "I remember it stormed the second day of our honeymoon. You sat watching for hours."
Ashton nodded. "I am in awe of the majesty of storms. It's an expression of sheer power. I love the way I feel after a storm passes. We made love for hours afterwards, remember?"
Tracy smiled. "It was the best honeymoon I've ever had."
Ashton looked at Tracy and admitted, "Mine, too."
"It's ironic that a man who doesn't like to make waves is fascinated by storms. Is it the power that draws you?"
"I want my place in the world. I want my son to have the same. One needs many ingredients to make that happen. Power being one of them. I'm not very complicated am I?"
"You have your own brand of complicated. I used to think it was because you're British but that's not it. I couldn't figure you out for the longest time so I married you," said Tracy.
"Believe it or not, my dear, I did marry you with more than a smidgen of love in my heart."
"Ditto."
Ashton looked away. "I do still care, Tracy. I care what happens to you. To our son and granddaughter."
"Do I hear an apology coming?" asked Tracy.
"What would an apology get me?"
"Nothing."
"Then none will be forthcoming."
They sat comfortably silent for some minutes. The storm surged and ebbed outside. Behind them, they could hear the theater's staff scurrying to restore power.
KA-RA-BOOM!
"Ashton, if there was something … big about to happen, you would warn me wouldn't you?" asked Tracy looking at everything but her ex-spouse.
"I would do my best. That's all I can promise," said Ashton. "What makes you think I would know anything?"
"Oh, please. You've cultivated many friends and perfected the art of being a shoulder to lean on complete with an opportunistic ear eagerly bent towards woe and strife," said Tracy. "I've done my own research into your finances. The source of some of your wealth is shall we say questionable."
"My taxes and government filing are all legitimate on multiple continents."
"A wife, even an ex-wife, can see things differently." Tracy sighed. "As a show of good faith, I'll let you in on something."
"Say on."
"The sale of Quartermaine family shares to your holding company-" began Tracy.
"Arielle's holding company," clarified Ashton.
"Whatever. Those sales have been stopped cold. However, Sonny Corinthos continues to sell Jason's shares. Monica has tried to ask Jason to intervene but he says that he stands by Sonny."
"That was a futile mission. Why even attempt it?"
"A child will always be a child to his mother or father," said Tracy. "Anyway, we want Sonny out of ELQ and we can hardly wait until he finishes selling off all the shares can we?"
"Buy him out," said Ashton.
"You know very well that ELQ has too much of its capital in illiquid assets not cash and we certainly do not want our money funding Sonny's real business. We will find a way," said Tracy. "I want you to stay out. Promise me."
"Why would I want to meddle with ELQ?"
"ELQ is off limits, Ashton. One warning is all you get," said Tracy.
"I ask again. What do I care if ELQ is consumed in an unstable internal squabble?"
"Because it's our son's legacy."
"Dillon is there not Ned. Ned's future lies elsewhere. He's made that clear," said Ashton. "You have to respect that."
"I do but I will always look after his interests. You know I would. He is a Quartermaine. There's nothing you can do to change that."
"It would be easier for me to shift the moon's orbit than take away his Quartermain-ness. He's too much like his mother and grandfather. I made peace with that a long time ago," said Ashton. "The strongest thing we have in common is that we have one driving force. It's the quality that I admire most about you, darling, then and still."
Tracy glanced at him. Her voice was firm but her eyes had softened, "It's the only reason I like having you around."
Ashton touched his wine glass to hers. "Here's to the best motive in the world - for the love of family."
KA-RA-BOOM!