SLD-162 (Book 5 Chapter 1)
Villa Scorpio
"She strokes that thing like it was her pet cat," complained Robert sitting across from his wife Anna at breakfast in the dining room.
"It's not doing her harm. Let it go," said Anna pouring orange juice into both their glasses.
"I ordered that thing into the vaults. Nothing good has EVER come from it."
"Robin says the warmth it transmits is soothing. It helps her think and focus. That's all it's doing."
"That we know of." Robert leaned across and said in a lower voice, "Singing crystals and mountains of mourning ring a bell, my dear?"
Anna lowered her voice, "All said in a dream state. Nonsense. Besides, Andrew is no longer under any kind of control or compulsion. All that stuff is fantasy. When did we switch out? I don't remember you being this concerned about the metaphysical before?"
Robert buttered his toast. "It's all the coincidences. It's like someone is ticking off a check list - electrical storm, city under siege, Scorpios out of town, island base, power failures."
Anna slathered jam on her toast. "Well, I don't know why you're bothering with it, Robert. The one MAJOR ingredient is not here. I had SIMON check all known communications sources in town. There was not one mention of … of C-A-S-E-Y."
"He could be using another name," murmured Robert. "Like Bob."
That got a giggle from Anna. "I'm glad something is occupying you."
"Just one among dozens. What's on your agenda today? Staying in?"
Anna paused mid-bite and swallowed. She could sense a change in the air despite Robert's casual tone. "Are you fishing for information?"
"You've been going into town every day for the last two weeks. I know it's not for shopping."
Anna countered, "And you've been locked in the study or in the Vault's study for hours every afternoon from two to five. I know it's not because you're planning some surprise for me."
Robert picked through his scrambled eggs. "You know this keeping secrets thing is certainly adding some unexpected tension to our every day existence."
"I think of it as keeping my skills sharp. And yours, too," said Anna. "It was YOUR idea remember?"
"Unfortunately."
"My tracker is on 24/7. You know where I go. If you want more detail just ask," said Anna.
"I have little to zero interest in the Black Pearls thingee other than the philanthropy angle but I am most impressed by Madame Scorpio's clever effortless juggling of multiple covers."
"The PR agency is not a cover. It's what I would be doing if I wasn't protecting our strong-minded children, securing a fortress half finished by said children's father because he's off doing his own thing and-"
Robert finished his eggs. "And sending off our best to go shopping to who knows where in the world."
Anna smiled. "Is that what's really ticking you off? Not knowing what their assignment is?"
"There's nothing anywhere that beats DigiMaze stock. Why go anywhere else? They're not really shopping though. Need I remind you that some, oh hell, most of our staff are persons of interest in multiple countries?"
Anna said with some self-satisfaction, "It's spy catnip, Robert, and I know how to use it. Properly. I must thank Sean when I see him."
"Sean has a cat? He's allergic to cats," said Robert. "Give me a tiny hint, just one."
"Have you noticed that since we divvied up the team into your team and mine that there's been an increase in intensity for everyone?"
"Are you saying that Team Devane is better than Team Scorpio?"
Anna laughed. "It's just killing you."
"Okay, fine, keep your secrets," huffed Robert.
Anna looked at her husband over the rim of her coffee cup. "Look around this room, Robert. What do you see?"
Robert turned his head and scanned the crowded dining room. Every table was full. Conversation in several languages filled the air.
"Alert, dedicated people ready to start a busy day," answered Robert.
"I see people who know they have something they can't talk about and loving the idea that they know something the person across the table doesn't. Each one is trying to get hints while keeping their own secret secret. Secrets appeal to spies like catnip to cats. Irresistible."
"Catnip my eye. It's called competition."
"No, it's not. We're not in a contest or a race."
"Whatever makes you happy, luv." Robert grinned. "My team is working like a well-oiled machine. Yours is all over the place."
"Micromanaging has never been my style," said Anna.
"I prefer to be the hare not the tortoise. Speed is always an asset," said Robert.
"And who won in the end?" asked Anna with an arched brow.
"As you said this is not a competition," said Robert almost primly.
The noise of conversation decreased rapidly as the television monitor everyone had been only half watching displayed the latest breaking news.
National news anchor Lester Bolt was saying, "In London, Helena Cassadine has revealed in an interview with Hello magazine that she is relieved to have been cleared of murder charges and that she was embarking on a new phase of her life including a name change. Here's an excerpt of the interview that will air on our night time news program today."
They all watched in silence. Each of them by habit observing the video closely for clues and signs. Helena was composed and confident dressed immaculately in a white and periwinkle pantsuit. Anna gritted her teeth when Helena waxed poetic about being a free woman.
After the interview, Robert said to Anna, "She's a tiny fish in a huge pond. She can't do much."
"I disagree. Someone who has survived what she has is extremely capable. We need to keep an eye on her," said Anna over a second piece of toast.
"We agreed to put her off the table for now. That was YOUR idea by the way," said Robert.
"Thank you for reminding me." Anna snapped a finger. "I'll pay a visit to Nikolas and Thanos. They can watch Helena for us."
"Good idea. Save our resources for bigger fish."
"Size is relative. A piranha is a fraction of the size of a great white shark but it has sharper teeth. That's Helena. Stealthy, mean and deadly."
"What's Faison?" asked Robert sipping on juice.
Anna answered without hesitation, "A cobra." She looked Robert in the eye. "Faison only needs one strike. Promise me that when you take him on that you'll be as prepared as you can possibly be."
"I'll be loaded for bear, snake, fish, whatever," said Robert. "My plan is working, Anna. I'm whittling him down to size with every operation."
"I'm doing everything I can to help you. You do know that don't you?" asked Anna.
"Of course I do. If I have to turn the Court sweet, I'll let you do the talking."
"I can help you in more ways than that."
"Look, luv, I feel guilty that my focusing on Faison and the Game is putting more pressure on you but I started this and I'm going to finish it," said Robert. "I want you and the kids out of the line of fire. I have every intention of throwing everything at that cockroach when the time comes."
"Everything? Everyone?"
"Everything that's mine to use, namely me," said Robert softly. "I will end it with my bare hands if necessary."
"You can-"
"I can do what I should have done decades ago when he first showed up in town. Dirty hands are an occupational hazard in our line of work. I won't forget that again," said Robert with eyes blazing with anger, hate and determination. "I will keep my family safe no matter what it takes."
Donely Penthouse
Tiffany studied the calendar tacked on the kitchen wall by the refrigerator. She ran a perfectly manicured finger across three dates.
"I have three days to find a dress for the exhibit fundraiser," said Tiffany.
"I'll go shopping with you, Mama," offered Belle pouring cereal into a bowl at the breakfast table.
"I'm sure you'll find something in one day," said Sean behind his newspaper. His second mug of coffee lay steaming on the table.
"Disaster area, sweetheart. There is nothing here. All the stores are still closed," said Tiffany moving towards the table with a plate of scrambled eggs.
"You could always recycle a dress," said Sean.
"Anyone could but not me," said Tiffany putting down the eggs. "As a theater trustee, I'm expected to be in a new dress."
"You'd look gorgeous and all woman in anything. Trust me on that."
Tiffany stood behind Sean's chair and wound her arms around his neck. "I'm lapping all this up but I have to ask what have you done with my husband?"
Sean chuckled. He put his paper down on the table. With a swift movement, he had Tiffany sitting across his lap. "He's right here and he's all yours. Are you shopping for an upgrade?"
Tiffany said, "I'm going to keep this model for a few more years. Maybe forever if you play your cards right."
"Forever, yes, ma'am," said Sean softly.
Belle aimed the remote at the television mounted on the far wall. "Dad, you're on the news."
The local Port Charles affiliate began showing a pre-taped interview with Sean, the mayor and representatives of the federal emergency management teams.
The mayor was effusive in his compliments towards the efforts of Donely Shipping in providing a working dock and workers to unload much needed supplies. Sean accepted the thanks on behalf of his company and the dock workers union.
Sean wasn't paying attention to the broadcast. He looked at Belle. "Did you call me Dad?"
Short news alert texts crawled across the bottom of the screen: ALL HIGHWAYS NOW OPEN, GOVERNOR EXPECTED TODAY, DAMAGE ESTIMATES NEARING $100 MILLION, ALL SCHOOLS CLOSED, ELQ DONATES FUNDS TO GENERAL AND MERCY HOSPITALS, CITY HALL OPEN, NATIONAL GUARD RESCUES STRANDED PASSENGERS. CDC DAY 3 OF INVESTIGATION.
"Oh, honey, why didn't you tell me you were going to be on?" asked Tiffany.
"I didn't know they'd air it or when," replied Sean. "Talk is good but advance checks are even better. Remember that, Belle."
Belle nodded. "Yes, Dad."
"Dad again?" Sean shook his head.
"It looks like the cleanup is going fast. City Hall is open. Main Street is clear," said Tiffany.
"The docks are nearly a total loss. And there are the boats that were heaved everywhere. The Haunted Star has to be raised and moved out. It's blocking access. It's not the only one either. I counted at least eight ships that need to be removed before the docks can be replaced or repaired."
"We're lucky that our docks are the only ones still working," said Belle.
"The only one that can send and receive the big ships, sweetheart. The other docks are too damaged or blocked to be of much use," clarified Sean. "I'm glad I kept the dock and warehouses instead of selling them to Jason after we moved to Boston. Donely Shipping is a solid, reliable earner with little debt on the balance sheet. It needs to stay in the portfolio, Belle."
"Yes, Dad. I know," said Belle. "Donely Shipping was your first acquisition in Port Charles. I'd never sell it."
"You and your little lessons even over breakfast," chided Tiffany.
"I started them when Belle was five. You think I'm going to stop?" said Sean with a grin towards his only child. "You want me to stop?"
"No, Dad. I need to learn so I don't rely on other people telling me what's a good or bad business decision. I'll know which is which," said Belle.
"That's exactly right!" said Sean.
"No person is an island not even heiresses," said Tiffany. "You hire the best managers and let them run your companies while you live your life."
"Someone has to watch the managers though," said Sean. "You always have to be watching, Belle, and planning. And if you-"
"And if you find all the options possible, you can handle any outcome. And leave as little to chance as possible," finished Belle.
"Are you turning our baby into a future spymaster, Sean? Sometimes I think she's halfway there already," said Tiffany.
"Belle is too good for the WSB. It wouldn't be a good fit," said Sean. "I want Belle to be in charge of her own destiny. I want her to live the life she was born to live not one chosen for her."
Tiffany silently mouthed the words 'born to live not chosen for her' while casting an odd look at her husband.
"Should I work at the docks or the PR office today?" asked Belle.
"Neither. I could use your help at the Majestic. With all the Asian Quarter refugees moved to the New China Instant Village, this is the first time my marketing team can actually start setting up for the exhibit. There are a hundred things to do," said Sean before taking a gulp of coffee.
"Don't let Frisco hear you say that. He and Mac worked night and day on that project!" exclaimed Tiffany. She put two slices of toast on Sean's plate. "Eat something besides coffee."
"It wasn't an insult. It's the nickname going around," said Sean buttering his toast. "I'm actually impressed how fast those prefab homes got built up. Mac and Frisco are so popular down there that they get free meals wherever they eat."
"Speaking of Frisco, don't be surprised if he shows up at the theater," said Tiffany.
"Why should he be there?"
"He pitched Derek an idea of him and Maxie being on the spot, roving reporters for the station. All their segments will be packaged within a fun, daily, mid-afternoon, half hour around-our-town program. Maxie will be the on-air talent while Frisco produces. Derek loved the idea. This town needs an updated Teen Time show," explained Tiffany digging into her grapefruit slice.
"So he'll be covering the fundraiser?"
"Who better? I overheard Frisco planning a documentary on the disaster. I expect he'll be haunting the docks for footage and survivor stories."
Sean nodded. "I'm sure he will be."
"Dad, Frisco requested an interview at your convenience this week," said Belle.
"Oh, just great! Why me?"
"Both Maxie and Frisco have oodles of personality and the camera loves them. Felicia and I are thrilled to pieces that Frisco is getting away from the WSB. We should be encouraging him not complaining," said Tiffany.
"I wasn't exactly complaining. I just have a lot to do. Frisco can be a … a pest when he wants something," said Sean. "For the record, honey, I completely approve of Frisco moving on with his life. The further he gets from the Bureau the better."
"Unlike Robert who never cut his WSB ties completely, you could give Frisco a lot of good advice."
"I suppose. But, honey, it wouldn't be anything different than what Robert or Anna have told him."
"Felicia wants you to have a good sit down talk when you have time."
"She does?"
"She was going to ask you personally but, well, with everything going on, she must have forgot," said Tiffany. "I want you to talk to him, too. You went through the same situation as Frisco. You left the Bureau, created a new life and never looked back."
"I did a few favors for Ballantyne and there was the Mount Rushmore bit and the-"
"Those were one offs. They asked you to help. You never stepped back in. Frisco's left and returned how many times? Twice? Three times? Felicia's scared that he'd go back. I think a long talk with you will help him decide to put the spy life away for good."
"You're putting a lot of faith on my powers of persuasion, honey. No one makes Frisco do anything he doesn't want to." Sean drained his coffee.
"Don't I know it? The only ones more stubborn are you and Robert," noted Tiffany. "No one is expecting a miracle. Just talk to him. Be brutally honest. That may hit home. Do it for Felicia."
Villa Scorpio
Robin and Vincent entered through the loggia doors and found their way to Robert and Anna's table. After morning hugs and greetings, they sat down.
Anna looked speculatively at Robin dressed for off-Villa work. "No lab coat must mean you're headed out."
"With the CDC giving the hospital a good shake down, I thought I'd stay nearby in case Monica or Tom needs me for anything. I need a day out of the lab anyway." said Robin.
"You're not thinking of talking to the CDC are you?" asked Robert.
"That's exactly what I need to do, Dad. They want answers. Where did the Fly antidote come from? Who made it? Matt has been dodging questions like crazy but it's not fair that he has to do that," said Robin. "Why protect me when everyone knows I'm alive?"
Anna rubbed at the bridge of her nose. "I'm feeling a headache coming on."
Vincent looked at Anna, "We will be staying in the Writers Room unless Robin is needed at GH. No need to worry."
"Thank you," replied Anna softly.
"It's only a matter of time, maybe days and weeks, before the Feds put Fly and Compound X together and get a whiff of the stench," said Robert. "Why are you putting yourself in the crosshairs deliberately, Robin?"
"Because I'm tired of … of letting others take the fall for things I've done and-" began Robin.
"Under duress. Everything you did was for your survival," said Anna.
"Yes, Mom, but that doesn't absolve me from some responsibility," protested Robin.
"Completely self-inflicted blame. Don't go there, Robin," insisted Anna.
"The original plan was to put it all on Peter. Well, Peter's dead. Who else is there?"
Anna said with some firmness, "Not you."
Robert glanced at Anna then at their daughter. He could imagine the battle lines being drawn between them. Both were so passionate and obstinate when they felt in the right. And they were both right.
"I know what I'm risking by going public with what I know," said Robin.
"It's in the past, Robin. Let it stay there. Please," said Anna.
"I can't do that, Mom. I wanted to at first but Tom's right. I have to deal with it and part of that is being honest. Stop hiding and let the truth out. The consequences will come no matter what I do."
"There's hiding and then there's sacrificing yourself for no reason. You go public and what happens to the life you're trying to rebuild?"
Robert added quietly, "Robin, how much truth do you want out? What about Eve? Keeping secrets is sometimes a necessary practical evil."
Robin looked at her hands folded on the table and said nothing.
"Give this more thought," continued Robert. "If you do decide to talk to the CDC, let's talk out a good story first."
"Another lie," whispered Robin.
Anna realized what tack Robert was attempting. "Not a lie but not the full truth. We've been making things up as we went along but we should decide on ONE story."
"One story to fit nearly all scenarios," added Vincent.
"We'll have to hope that no one thinks of the more exotic and true angles," said Anna. "A story without Eve. She must … should rest in peace.
Vincent spoke out loud. "Dr. Robin Scorpio has lived in Port Charles most of her life with her family except for the last year when she was kidnapped. A lab explosion was set to cover your kidnapping. While in captivity, you were required to work for Sinclair. You helped him to develop products from his original work. Your parents found you and brought you home. You are now recovering from your ordeal and require privacy."
"Perfectly logical. I like it," beamed Robert. "You can confess to enough perceived sins to salve your conscience, Robin, and leave the rest to Sinclair."
"Not products. Only one product - Compound X. Robin knows nothing about anything else but that," said Anna.
"One or two, what difference does it make?" asked Robin.
"When creating a cover, simplicity is always best. One is simple," explained Anna. "Practically speaking, for the time you were gone, one was all you could have learned."
"Well, Robin?" asked Robert.
Robin nodded. "Okay. That's the story. I'll doctor the dates on my data and-"
"The minions will do that. All the compound X notes will be dated for the last year. And you have complete deniability in case something nasty pops up down the road," said Robert. "You two have the right idea. Get out of here. Enjoy a day out."
"Let me know when you meet with the CDC. I'll sit in. I'll answer any questions you don't want to," said Anna.
"Lie for me you mean," said Robin.
Anna locked eyes with her only living daughter. "I'd do anything for you."
"Thanks, Mom." Robin reached towards Anna and embraced Anna.
Robert said quietly to Vincent, "Good work on the story. It covers just enough."
"A blurry picture can reveal as much as a clear one but only if one knows where to look," said Vincent.
"History has a way of airbrushing anything," murmured Robert. "The best trick is to be the one writing the history books. He or she always wins."
Donely Penthouse
In his locked study, Sean put together a classified ad to appear in the Wall Street Journal the next day.
He came up with: Selling French solitaire cards. Mint, good offers accepted. Contact D.S. Baxter., P.O. Box 55139, New York.
"Between the devil and the deep blue sea, I'll take the devil I know every time," said Sean.
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