Chapter Thirty
"I tell you, Alexis, it’s just odd. There I was holding onto a weeping child, distraught and in pain from a difficult medical procedure. I thought, ‘What can I do to take his mind off of this? Oh, I’ll ask him for some pointers on my FBI meeting.’ He seemed insulted the other day when I told him not to talk to anyone. So, I thought it would be interesting to see what he had to say. But, he changed like that." Luke snapped his fingers loudly and maneuvered his car into the left lane as he and Alexis drove to their FBI meeting downtown. Alexis watched Luke and listened curiously as she noted how animated her fiancee became when he talked about his son. It’s like Luke became completely absorbed, and the rest of the universe faded away.
"I could have sworn I was talking to Frank Smith himself, babe. It was eerie. Gone was the hurt child. Frankie was all business-like and calculating, mob boss to the core. Not that he didn’t have any good points. He mentioned deflection, concentrating on the crime fourteen years ago. But he was talking about himself like he was someone else. ‘Paint the kid as a victim. He didn’t know what he was doing.’ That’s what he said." Luke laughed as he glanced at Alexis. "Correction. He said, ‘Paint da kid as a victim.’ Good Lord, where did he learn to talk like that? I feel like I’m watching a gangster movie when he starts up." Luke moved his hands over the steering wheel as he turned a corner and braked hard at a red light that startled him to attention. The two occupants jerked forward in their seatbelts, and Luke instinctively put his arm out in front of Alexis to steady her. "Whoa," he said tensely. "I’m sorry, darlin’. Need to concentrate on my driving."
"That would be nice," Alexis agreed with a smile. "Live to be grilled by the FBI."
"Don’t remind me. I feel like I’m going to pee my pants," Luke said. "I guess I’ve watched too many TV shows."
"X-files?" Alexis inquired with an impudent expression crossing her face. "Seen any werewolves lately? Or perhaps strange lights hovering over Port Charles?"
"Only over Wyndemere," Luke joked. Alexis swatted him on the arm, but agreed. "That is one odd looking house, excuse me, mansion," she said. "It looks like something out of the Addams Family."
"We’re creepy and we’re spooky," Luke began singing.
"Stop it!" Alexis yelled as she placed protective hands over her ears. "Honestly, Luke." She glanced at her fiancee from the corners of her eyes and chuckled.
"Laughter is the best medicine, darlin,’" Luke commented breezily. "Laugh yourself to health, wealth, fitness and nirvana. I heard it on an infomercial."
Alexis smiled as she searched through her briefcase for some papers. "Why do you think that Frankie has his accent?" she asked conversationally.
Luke shrugged. "My guess would be that he was raised by other people. He mentioned staying with various families, one in general. Said that the man of the house was da employee."
"So Frank himself didn’t have a noticeable accent?" questioned Alexis.
Luke shook his head. "No, Frank was originally from California. Don’t ask me how I know that. You know me. I absorb useless information like a sponge and retain it like fat on an overweight woman’s hips."
Alexis burst out laughing. "Luke, how in the world do you think of these crazy things to say? I don’t think I’ve ever heard one repeat either. Honestly. I wonder how your brain is set up."
"Aliens," confirmed Luke. "What you see is only a pod, a glove of my former self. I used to be an FBI agent."
"Tell that to Mulder," Alexis retorted.
Luke continued driving the car through endless road construction projects and reflected how grateful he was for Alexis. Talking and joking with her was a welcome distraction to take his mind off of the upcoming FBI meeting, which he was going to be late for if traffic didn’t hurry up. Luke distractedly glanced at his watch, noting that their meeting would start in five minutes.
~*~*~*~
"Federal Bureau of Investigation," Luke intoned gravely as he stood outside of the glass door and ran his fingertips over the painted lettering. "I’d forgotten that FBI is an acronym." Alexis patted Luke on the back reassuringly and swung open the door. Luke sat down in the sparse, official looking waiting area while Alexis searched for a person to announce their presence. Luke turned his head and smirked at the boring photos of past presidents and the White House. An American flag and a state flag hung on the wall opposite of him. There were no reading materials on the small, tidy coffee table in front of him and no complimentary beverages in sight. Don’t want to make you feel homey and welcome, do they? Luke thought morosely. He propped his black leather-shoed foot on the edge of the laminate table in front of him, but thought better of it and lowered his foot to the blue, commercial carpeted floor. The waiting area, small as it was, featured wooden paneling lining the walls. Where are the spy cameras? Luke wondered idly. Shall I pick my nose for the tape? Alexis approached him before he could seriously consider taking action.
"Agent Harris will be out in a moment," she whispered as she took a seat beside Luke. "Are you behaving?"
Luke rolled his eyes. "Barely. I was about to start picking my nose for the benefit of the agency."
"Settle," Alexis said tensely under her breath as she placed a retraining hand on his knee as a reminder of the importance of this meeting.
Luke shot her a surprised look and slumped in his seat. He yanked briefly at his necktie and moved his shoulders harshly within his suit coat. Dammit I hate these dress clothes. Good thing I had my one suit hanging in the mothballs in the back of the closet. Comes in handy for weddings and funerals. Untried for FBI interrogations, however.
Alexis sighed and shifted in her seat. "The games begin," she whispered out of the side of her mouth. "They’re keeping us waiting. Makes them feel like they have the upper hand."
"Dickless wonders," Luke muttered as his eyes wandered the room, looking for signs of human life.
"There are female agents, Luke," Alexis reminded with the corners of her lips turning up.
Both Luke and Alexis stood up when a well-built man in a suit approached them.
~*~*~*~
Ruby entered Frankie’s ICU room with a small bag. She stood next to his bed and lay one hand on the protective guardrail at the side of the bed. She looked down at Frankie, who was lying very still with his eyes closed. Even in sleep, he hadn’t forgotten the bone marrow aspiration and the doctor’s orders not to move for several hours. His arms were held out stiffly from his sides almost like a soldier ready for inspection. Ruby’s eyes reflected her concern, and when Frankie cried out and raised his arms to his face as if to ward off blows, she lightly jostled his shoulder. "Frankie. Wake up. You’re dreaming."
Frankie’s arms floated down to the bed, and he opened his eyes, blinking them and trying to orient himself.
"You were having a bad dream," Ruby said. "Hi Frankie, how’s my favorite tenant?" she asked with twinkling eyes.
"I’m okay," Frankie mumbled as he reached for the oxygen mask to remove it. "Thank you for coming, Ruby," he stated politely. "I missed you," he added shyly.
Ruby noted the boy’s red puffy eyes and figured that he must have cried for a long time to create that effect. "I missed you, too," she said. "Where are all of my stories. How will I ever know what’s happening at PCHS? You were my main source of information."
Frankie nodded happily. "I can tell you what happens here," he announced importantly.
"You’re not giving those pretty nurses any trouble are you? Because I know how much you like the ladies," Ruby teased, pinching Frankie on the cheek until he blushed with embarrassment and pride.
"I have two dates for afta da hospital stay," he lied with a haughty voice. Frankie immediately laughed. "Nah, I’m just kidding. I still like dat Maxie." Frankie’s eyes brightened at the recollection of his girl.
"Well, it’s your lucky day. I have two cards for you," Ruby said as she reached into her bag. She sat in a chair with a sigh. "The first one is from Miss Maxie."
Frankie started rising in the bed as he eagerly reached his hand out for the envelope. "Ow," he complained. He plopped his head back onto the pillow. "Can’t move," he said as an explanation for his behavior. Frankie’s lips parted in a delighted grin as his fingers tore at the paper envelope. He lifted out a bright card filled on the front with colorful graphical depictions of sunshines and rainbows. He giggled when he opened the card.
~*~
Dear Frankie,
I was so sad to hear that you’d been hurt. I miss your smile and your blue eyes! You’re so nice and funny.
Will you try hard to get better soon? I want a date to make up for the one that we missed – even before you make up your homework. Promise?
I’d like to visit you when you are moved into a regular room. Would that be all right with you? I hope so.
I’m thinking about you and sending you good wishes. Don’t forget that.
Love,
Maxie
~*~
"She wrote me a note, see? She’s not mad at me." Frankie held the card out to Ruby for her to read.
"Very nice," Ruby agreed with a nod. "She likes you, kiddo."
Frankie took the card back and held it to his chest. "I know," he said proudly.
"There’s one more card for you, Frankie. This one is from…well, I can’t say. It’s top secret. It’s marked on the envelope. For your eyes only."
Frankie’s brow knit with confusion. "Huh?" he asked as he accepted the decorated pink envelope. "Top Secret," he whispered, turning the envelope several times in his hand, still wondering whom this was from.
He unfolded several sheets of paper and filled the room with his laughter as he read. "She’s my underground mole, dat Georgie! Look here," he said to Ruby. "I asked her to be my spy, so she followed Maxie around and kept track of how many times she said something nice about me. I got thirty! Dat’s more dan I thought. I figured maybe five? Dat’s great."
Ruby shook her head and smiled. "You’re a lady killer," she complimented. "A girl in every port."
~*~*~*~
"Ms. Davis, Mr. Spencer," the tall man intoned as he held his hand out for them. "I’m Agent Harris. Thank you for coming in today. I’m sorry to leave you waiting for a few minutes." Alexis mentally rolled her eyes at that comment. "Let’s find a room where we can talk privately," Agent Harris instructed as he directed the couple to a long hallway lined with the formally posed photos of Bureau chiefs past and present. "Here’s an available room," he said, opening the wooden door to what looked like an interrogation room. Trying to catch us offguard? Alexis thought snidely.
There was a long, rectangular wooden table in the sparse, windowless room that was suspiciously bright white with no soothing colors of green or blue in sight. Alexis noted the long mirror on one end wall.
Luke and Alexis sat next to each other, and Agent Harris seated himself opposite of them. He was a man that appeared to have been a college football player with a powerful build, thick neck and brown crewcut. The door opened behind Luke and Alexis, and another man entered. This man was older, more sophisticated in appearance with distinguished gray hair and an expensive pinstripe suit. From the way that Agent Harris reacted, this man was obviously his superior. The man smiled at Luke and Alexis, but his eyes remained cold. He seated himself at the end of the table, away from both Agent Harris and the couple. He folded his hands as he introduced himself. "I’m Carl Richards, agency chief for the Port Charles district. Agent Harris asked me to attend this meeting. Perhaps you can start by telling us why you’re here?" Agent Richards’ voice was hoarse, betraying his years of unrepentant smoking. He coughed soggily, bringing a discrete hand to his mouth to cover the sound.
Alexis cleared her throat. "I’m Alexis Davis, Mr. Spencer’s attorney. Any recording media must be turned off before we begin." Alexis firm expression met the impassive faces of the two men. Agent Richards hesitated for a moment, and then reached his fingers into the air and snapped them in the direction of the mirror.
"Thank you," Alexis intoned. "Mr. Spencer has been a victim of a heinous crime, the kidnapping of his only son, Lucas Lorenzo Spencer, Junior. The kidnapping was disguised as a murder, and for the last fourteen years, Mr. Spencer has believed his son to be dead." Alexis hesitated for dramatic effect.
Luke looked down at his folded hands on top of the table and tightened them together. It was hard to hear about these events in such a public, nonemotional way. Agent Harris scoured Luke’s appearance for a reaction, and he looked down at Luke’s hands.
"Recent events have pointed us in a new direction, however," Alexis continued. "A badly injured child appeared at his door several days ago. The child was rushed into emergency surgery, and he is still in serious condition. He may not survive his ordeal." Luke’s cheek muscles twitched with his anger over these events and his attempts at controlling his emotions in front of the officials in front of him.
"Mr. Spencer had a DNA test performed, and it is definitely a positive match. The child is his. Of course, we would like the perpetrator of this crime brought to justice, but he was recently killed." Alexis’ right eyebrow rose as she looked back and forth from Agent Harris to Agent Richards. Their lack of reaction to her comments was unnerving. "Lucas Lorenzo Spencer, Junior was victimized by Frank Smith, the man who was recently killed in an uprising on his estate in New Jersey. He was brutally kidnapped and abused for fourteen long years. He recently discovered the identity of his real father and sought his help."
Agent Richards withdrew an 8" by 10" glossy photo from a folder lying in front of him. "Frank Smith, Junior?" he asked firmly with a trace of sarcasm. He lay the photo directly in front of Luke, whose face reddened with anger. Luke had a powerfully bad feeling about this meeting, and he didn’t like the direction that this was headed. Ohmigod, they know, thought Alexis frantically. How much do they know? How long have they known? Oh, man, I need to redirect. Think, woman.
"Lucas Lorenzo Spencer, Junior," Luke replied tersely, his blazing eyes meeting the cold eyes of Agent Richards and his hand shoving the photo back at the FBI agent.
"Blood samples were taken at the crime scene on the Smith estate," said Agent Harris. His eyes narrowed. "Would they match a sample taken from your son, Mr. Spencer?" he asked breezily.
"My son is lying in a pediatric ICU, hooked up to more medical devices than I have names for," Luke retorted hotly with a sharp slap of his hand on the wooden table. "Do you think I give a shit about this? My son was kidnapped and brutalized. I want answers. How could this happen? Where are his records? How could this child just seemingly disappear from existence?" Alexis reached one hand under the table and patted Luke on the knee, letting him know that his grieving father presence was effective.
~*~*~*~
"I brought you some cards and writing supplies," Ruby offered. "Do you want to write Maxie a note?"
"Oh, yeah!" Frankie said enthusiastically.
Ruby noticed that his breathing was sounding harsher, and he was having trouble drawing in complete breaths. She said, "Why don’t you lie back down and put the mask on your face? You can dictate to me. I’ll write, and then you can check it. How’s that?"
Frankie dropped back down onto his back and winced in pain. "Okay," he said with disappointment. "But you can’t hear me with da mask," he protested, with his lower lip sticking out slightly.
"I can hear you," Ruby said agreeably. I’m sitting close enough."
Frankie paused as his eyes closed, and he drew in several difficult breaths. Ruby stood up and reached for the mask, gently pulling it over his head and securing it over his face. Frankie’s eyes didn’t open again, and she noted his regular breathing. Too much excitement. Wore him out, she thought. But I loved seeing him so happy. I’ll wait until he wakes up.
Ruby pulled out an unfinished knitting project from her carryall bag. When she unwound the multicolored wannabe scarf, it appeared to be over twenty feet long and composed of many types of yarn. Ruby chuckled to herself as she picked up the knitting needles. Too bad I never learned how to finish off this knitting, she thought. I just go and go. I must have well over 20 years of knitting here. That’s lots of sick kids.
~*~*~*~
"Frank Smith, Junior is wanted for questioning concerning the deaths of Frank Smith Senior, James Caruso, and Jack Pankey," stated Agent Richards, whose rough voice raised in intensity.
Luke rose angrily from the table, pushing his chair back in disgust. "It’s kind of hard to question a boy that’s unconscious half the time and in constant pain," he yelled. "If you figure out a way to keep him awake and coherent, well, you just go apply for that Nobel Peace Prize, agent. My young son is a victim, a victim of a federal crime. I want answers. I want justice."
Alexis reached out a gentle hand to Luke’s tense arm. "Sit down, Luke," she said quietly. Alexis met the eyes of the agents surrounding her. "Mr. Spencer’s son is in serious condition. He understandably is upset and wants the best for his son. I’m sorry, but questioning the minor child is impossible at this moment. His health cannot be compromised."
Agent Harris effected a bored look. "Frankie Smith is on a federal list of known and suspected mob leaders. We’ve wanted to question him for a long time. He has a list of suspected crimes that is as long as it is thick."
Alexis cupped her ear with an air of annoyance. "Suspected? Is that the word I hear uttered? Since when does the Federal Bureau of Investigation operate off of hearsay?" Always, thought Alexis bitterly. "You’re painting a far-fetched scenario that might make an entertaining bedside novel, but gentlemen, the purpose of this meeting is to make you aware of the status of Lucas Lorenzo Spencer, Junior, not to engage in maybes or what if’s. We would like to know how the child was taken and hidden for so long. Those are the answers that we’re seeking. Mr. Spencer, in the meantime, will attend to the health and welfare of his only son."
~*~*~*~
Ruby glanced over at Frankie and smiled. "Hi there, sleepyhead," she said. "Look at all the knitting I’ve been doing while you’ve been asleep." Ruby raised her impossibly long scarf and laughed merrily when Frankie’s eyes bugged. "I’m pulling your leg. I’ve been working on this monstrosity for over 25 years," she stated. Ruby lay down her knitting needles and moved closer to the bed. "How are you feeling? Are you up to writing Miss Maxie a short note?"
Frankie blinked sleepily and nodded. "I’m so tired," he slurred. "Why can’t I keep my eyes open?" He held his hand to his forehead and coughed. "I’m not supposed to move," he said.
"I’m still willing to dictate," Ruby offered as she reached for a card that she’d bought for that purpose. She propped a pen in her hand and raised her eyebrows. "I’m ready."
Frankie took in a breath and frowned as he concentrated. "Dear Maxie," he said. "Thank you for your card. It made me feel so much better. I liked the sunshines. I’m sorry that we missed our date, but I thought about you the whole time. I promise we’ll do something special when I get out of the hospital. Please come to visit me later when you can. That would make me happy. Maybe I’ll sing a song for you." Frankie paused. "How do I sign it, Ruby?" he asked worriedly. "I don’t wanna sign ‘love.’ Dat’s for girls."
Ruby looked pensive as she tried to take Frankie’s dilemma seriously. ‘Hmmm," she said. "How about Yours Truly?"
Frankie ran a hand over his hair nervously. "Okay," he agreed. "It sounds like something Frank Sinatra would say. He did good with da ladies. Okay."
"Here," Ruby instructed as she handed the card to Frankie and gave him a pen. "You sign there," she pointed. "Read it over and give me your approval."
Frankie perused the note and gave Ruby a thumbs up sign. "Can I do one for dat Georgie, too?" he asked respectfully as Ruby took the card and pen from him.
Ruby dug into her carryall and produced another card. "Ready to dictate," she said.
"Dear Georgie," Frankie began. "You are the world’s best spy. Yes, we will discuss further tactics upon my return from my mission at the hospital. Keep track of the good comments until that time and remain undercover. I am counting on you. Sincerely." Frankie nodded. "She’ll like dat. She’s good." He reached out and signed his name again – only his first name, Frankie.
"Shall I go deliver these?" Ruby asked Frankie. She didn’t want to leave him if he still wanted company.
"Yeah," Frankie said quietly through his oxygen mask. "I can’t stop sleeping."
Ruby leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. "Luke will be back soon, and Bobbie is stopping by later this morning. You be good."
Frankie smiled contentedly underneath his mask and nodded. "Thanks, Ruby."
~*~*~*~
"Stefan," Laura said into the portable phone that she cradled between her ear and shoulder. She smiled at her daughter, who she held fast in her arms as she rocked her. Laura placed a soft kiss on top of her daughter’s black hair.
"Laura, dear, what a welcome surprise. I am knee deep in financial reports. You are a breath of fresh air."
"Compliments will get you everywhere, my darling," Laura laughed.
"I know," Stefan answered with a smirk. He leaned back in his executive chair and relaxed.
"Stefan, I wanted to talk to you about Frankie," Laura said with a concerned tone of voice. "We need to visit him often, get to know him and see if we can develop a closer relationship with the boy. I don’t feel comfortable taking Lulu from the house yet, certainly not into the atmosphere of a hospital, and I can only be away from her for a few hours at a time since she’s breastfeeding so often. I’ve decided to spend afternoons with Frankie to give Luke a break so he can attend to his own life. I’ve scheduled the nanny around that time. But I was wondering if you could visit him once a day? Just a brief visit?"
Stefan looked pensive, and he rocked his chair back into position. He shuffled several papers on his desk, neatening the untidy surface. He nodded. "That’s a good idea, Laura. I’d like to acquaint myself more thoroughly with my new stepson. Perhaps I can visit him each evening before I return home." Stefan paused and tapped his lips with his index finger. "Is Luke keeping your abreast of the boy’s condition?"
"Yes," Laura agreed. "He’s called every morning to talk about the boy’s health and some of the conversations that they’ve had. He has petitioned the courts for joint custody of Frankie, so we’d better prepare for him to live with us on a regular basis."
Stefan’s face softened, and he tried to broach the matter on his mind in a sensitive manner. "Laura, the boy is gravely injured," he said quietly. "Have you prepared yourself for the possibility that he might not survive?"
"No!" Laura said shortly. Tears built up in her eyes, giving them a shiny intensity. "That can’t happen! We just found him. I can’t lose my baby again." Laura’s eyes shifted to her peaceful, sleeping daughter, and a few tears fell onto the girl’s soft skin. Lulu squirmed slightly at the feel of the warm moisture splashing onto her arm, and Laura placed a gentle, reassuring hand on the baby’s back.
"The boy is still in serious condition. His status has not been upgraded," Stefan stated logically.
"That doesn’t matter," Laura said abruptly. "He’s going to be well, and he’ll be a part of this family. I won’t allow anything else."
"He will have the best medical care that money can buy," Stefan promised. "If he needs a specialist, we’ll fly one in. It is good that you will keep abreast of the latest developments in his condition. Inform me if I can assist you."
"I will Stefan," Laura said softly. "It’s so good of you to take such concern in my son. This has been dropped in your lap as a surprise. I realize that."
"It is excellent news that your son was not murdered as you had previously thought," Stefan replied. "What are we going to do with our son? His behavior at dinner last evening was abominable. Unacceptable. His hatred for that boy is shocking."
"Unfortunately, he hasn’t changed his mind," Laura stated. "He wouldn’t speak at breakfast and stormed out of the house. I thought he might be more receptive to talking after a good night’s sleep."
"Laura, do you think Nikolas is jealous or threatened by your son coming back?"
"I imagine so," Laura stated. "He’s been an only child for the majority of his life, and now he has to share his parents with a brand new baby sister and a new brother. He’s probably reeling from that right now. But if he won’t sit down and have a reasonable discussion with us, how can we help him? I think we need to spend some time alone with him. But he was away in Greece without us for a whole week, and now the baby and his injured brother are competing for our attention. This is difficult, Stefan. What are we going to do?"
"I truly have no idea," Stefan sighed. "Take it one day at a time?"
~*~*~*~
"Hi Sly," said Nikolas with a smile and a clap on the teen’s back. "So if the brat is my half-brother, what does that make you? My step-cousin in-law twice removed?"
Sly gave Nikolas a lopsided grin. "Something like that," he agreed. "Did you talk to your parents about Frankie?"
Nikolas shook his head. "Not exactly. More like we yelled back and forth and I was sent to my room." Nikolas stopped in front of his locker and worked the combination. "I hate that freak," he muttered.
"Frankie’s not so bad," Sly replied. "He was just brought up differently."
Nikolas laughed bitterly. "That’s being nice," he said. "Why did you hang around that loser anyway?"
Sly shrugged. "We used to help each other out. Frankie hadn’t been to a school before, so I showed him the ropes. He used to give me pointers on some things. He knows a lot about women."
Nikolas gave Sly a look of disbelief. "That twerp? He’s making it up, believe me."
Sly shook his head. "No, he’s not making it up, believe me. He doesn’t go to the mall, he owns it."
Nikolas snickered as he removed one book and slammed the locker door shut. "When I get done with him, the only thing he’s going to own is a black eye and a split lip courtesy of Nikolas Cassadine."
"He looked dead when I saw him," Sly added worriedly. "He might not make it." Sly blinked back a few tears, and Nikolas noticed how upset he was.
"Hey, I’m sorry if I upset you," he said. "I’m just blowing off steam, ranting and raving, you know, because I’m not happy about the situation. Finding out that your enemy is actually your brother is a bit jarring."
Sly nodded. "Yeah," he said wistfully. "Try finding out that your friend is baby Lucky. I’m going to have to find a new place to live."
Nikolas looked concerned. "That doesn’t sound like Luke," he disagreed. "I can’t imagine him sending you off somewhere. He’s crazy about you. Anyone can tell by the way that he looks at you."
Sly perked up a little. "Do you think so?" Sly’s face fell again as he reconsidered. "I haven’t seen my uncle since Frankie came back. That’s the way it’s going to be. I have to accept that and move on. My Aunt Bobbie said that I could stay with her. I help her out a lot and take care of Lucas." Sly’s expression clouded. "But now that Johnny is there, too, so I’m sure she won’t need me as much anymore. He’s Frankie’s bodyguard."
Nikolas’ eyes bugged. "Bodyguard? You have to be important to have a bodyguard."
Sly nodded. "Well, he’s important enough to have someone willing to kill for him.
~*~*~*~
"What was the nature of your relationship with Frank Smith fifteen years ago?" asked Agent Richards as his fingers lazily drummed on top of the manila file lying on the table. His cold eyes never left Luke’s face.
"You mean other than victim?" Luke asked shortly, his eyes boring holes into the man beside him.
"Gentlemen, fifteen years is a long time ago," interrupted Alexis. "Surely you have recent cases that require your immediate attention."
"We like to be thorough," Agent Harris replied. "A motive for the alleged kidnapping is elusive. What would make a man like Frank Smith kidnap an infant? He must have had a strong rationale."
Luke looked down at his watch. "This meeting has taken longer than I’d planned. I need to get back to the hospital to be with my son. He had a difficult medical procedure earlier this morning, and he needs my support."
"That’s a very short amount of time to establish such a close bond with a child that is essentially a stranger," Agent Richards observed coldly. He reached down his hand to pluck several pieces of lint from his dark suit. "You don’t have legal custody of the minor child yet, do you? I’m surprised that the medical personnel allow you near the child let alone make decisions for him. Custody cases can take so long to work through the courts, can’t they, counselor? They can drag on and on for seemingly no reason." Agent Richards stared at Alexis, his mouth making a superior upturned expression as his eyes glinted.
"You’re throwing threats and insinuations in the wrong direction," Luke protested hotly. "I have every right and a responsibility to care about the welfare of this child."
"The FBI doesn’t make threats," Agent Harris stated.
Yeah, right, you just make promises, Alexis thought.
"We are merely conducting a thorough investigation into the recent homicide of a very important mob leader. The rioting and violence on the Smith estate was a threat to the safety of the general public," explained Agent Richards. "We need to find the responsible parties to ensure that this does not occur again."
"From what I hear, you have over one hundred adults to talk to," Alexis said. "That will be very time-consuming for you, but likely fruitful."
"Yes," agreed Agent Richards as he templed his fingers and tapped them together. "Amazing the names and information that come rolling from lips when they hear that Frank Smith is dead and no longer a threat to their health."
"And, so, gentlemen, we’ll leave you to sort out the details while we attend to a very sick boy," Alexis stated as she reached for her briefcase, preparing to leave.
"We’ll be visiting General Hospital very soon," promised Agent Harris.
"My brother, Stefan Cassadine, CEO of General Hospital, has instituted strict rules concerning visitation of minors staying in his hospital," Alexis explained. "And, of course, he is very interested in the health and well-being of his stepson." Alexis raised an eyebrow and looked back and forth from the two agents’ faces. "I’m sure you understand," she said lightly.
~*~*~*~
"So give it to me straight, babe," Luke said as the couple walked through the parking garage to the car. "Are we in trouble?"
"Yes," Alexis replied smartly as she opened the passenger door and slipped inside the car.
~*~*~*~
"I want to prepare you that people in an ICU don’t always look their best," Bobbie explained to Johnny as they walked down the hospital corridor. "Frankie is a very ill young man."
"I’m just relieved that Frankie is alive," Johnny stated. "I had a few bad moments on the road when I wasn’t sure what had happened to him."
"I think it will be a relief for him to see you," Bobbie explained. "He hasn’t seen anyone from his old life in days, and he’s been scared and upset. Your presence, hopefully, will calm him."
"I wonder how he’s taking Frank’s death," Johnny commented. "The man was brutal, but he was the only family that Frankie had. It has to be hard on him."
"Here we are," Bobbie said softly as they stood outside of ICU5. "I’ll stay for a few minutes, but then I need to get back to work. You have a good visit."
Bobbie and Johnny entered the room and approached the bed. Frankie was still on his back, and breathing harshly even with the oxygen mask on his face. His face was scrunched up as he still felt pain while asleep. Johnny noted his poor coloring and fragile appearance.
"Frankie," said Bobbie in a normal speaking voice. "Wake up, hon. You have a very special visitor."
Frankie moved his legs up and down on the bed, but didn’t wake. His fists clenched and loosened.
"Frankie," Johnny said in a loud tone.
Frankie’s eyes flew open at the sound of the deep, masculine voice that he knew well. His head turned toward the source of sound, and his eyes twinkled with delight when he saw his visitor. "Johnny!" he said brightly. He tried to sit up, but only managed to scoot up a fraction.
"Let me adjust that," said Bobbie as she reached to elevate his bed.
"How’s the boss?" asked Johnny as he dragged a chair near the bed and sat down. "You gave me a fit. I was worried about you."
Frankie snorted. "I was worried about you," he replied. "I thought you mighta been blown up by a bomb. What happened?"
"They came after me first," Johnny explained. "I took a minor hit in the arm before I bagged them. Guess what I managed to save?" he asked as he smiled broadly. He poked Frankie in the arm with a finger to tease him. When Frankie looked puzzled, Johnny said, "Oh, it’s German, has four wheels, goes from zero to sixty in about…"
"My car!" Frankie shouted. He clapped his hands together. "All right!"
"That car helped save my life," Johnny commented. "Once I took off, no way they could catch me. I dripped some blood on the front seat. I hope you don’t mind too much. We can have it cleaned."
"What is this? Cloaks and daggers?" Bobbie asked with a laugh. "It’s dizzying to hear the two of you talk about death and mayhem like it’s all in a day’s work."
"Well, it is," Johnny laughed.
"It’s da business," Frankie said, nodding seriously.
"I have my business to take care of," stated Bobbie. "You two carry on." Bobbie took Frankie’s hand and said, "You be good. I’ll be back to visit you on my next break. Behave, buster." Bobbie wagged a finger at Frankie who laughed at being chastised in his hospital bed.
When Bobbie left the room, Frankie removed his oxygen mask and said, "What’s up, Johnny? For real."
Johnny lowered his voice so that no one else would hear him. "They still think you’re missing," he stated. "No one in the organization knows where you are. They figure you’re dead and fish food by now."
Frankie’s eyes narrowed. "Is dat Caruso gang still intact?" he questioned.
"I’m afraid so," Johnny confirmed. "They had about a third of the organization in their palm. But with both Caruso and Frank dead, there’s a void in the leadership. No one knows what to do. Operations have shut down. People are laying low, waiting to see what will happen." Johnny paused, unsure of the right words to speak. "I’m sorry about Frank," he said softly. "I know you must miss him."
Frankie’s face tightened, and his eyes misted briefly. He shifted his gaze away from Johnny. "Yeah," he said softly. "Dere’s good and bad points about him being gone. Makes me feel guilty." Frankie fidgeted with his fingers, grabbing hold of the joints and pulling on them repeatedly. "I gotta figure out what to do with the organization. It’s mine now. I have to decide. I keep thinking that I’m gonna die, so maybe it doesn’t matter anyway," he said dejectedly.
Johnny observed that Frankie looked bad physically, but that he contained a bright spark within that wasn’t going to die out anytime soon. "I know you feel bad," he said sympathetically. "I’m sorry you got hurt. That gunshot wound is my fault. I can’t believe you were walking around for days with a hole in your chest."
"Me neither," said Frankie. "Dat’s why it felt like last time when I got it in da lung. Same thing." He laughed briefly and fingered the oxygen mask, wanting the assistance, but tiring of wearing the device. "I got da plan, Johnny," he said suddenly. "We’re gonna be back in business."
"What do you mean?" Johnny questioned.
"I got da disks, da CD’s – da whole organization, da files, payroll, everything. I need you to go to New York City for me and retrieve ‘em. Bring me back a laptop. We’ll complete payroll and nobody will be out dere money. Dey’ll be loyal for dat. In da meantime, we got some Caruso wannabes dat need da lesson. We take out five of dem, real public and brutal. Make an example for da others. Dat way dere’s no mass bloodbath, just a couple of examples to make da others toe da line. We reactivate da organization, and den I got real plans." Frankie’s face bore a wide, wicked grin and determined eyes.
"Boss, I’m not sure I can do this," Johnny said quietly. "I’m loyal, you know that, but I’ve been waiting to leave the organization. Now that Frank is dead, it’s my time."
Frankie’s face set, and his eyes turned towards Johnny. "I’m holed up here. I can’t move, can’t piss, can’t eat, can’t breathe. You gonna abandon me now? I need you. You gotta be my front man. You been in da organization for almost 20 years. You know da score, da people. You wanna be a rich man? Stick with me. You’ll be rich, free and living in da Bahamas if you want or with da redhead." Frankie’s right eyebrow cocked in amusement. "If you’re in, den I can tell you da real plan. You won’t be disappointed."
Johnny’s face remained impassive as his mind worked. Kid’s smart, and I owe him. Caruso’s gang might not stop until they reach him. I have to protect him. Sometimes the best defense is an offense. Johnny’s eyes took in the fragility of Frankie’s small-framed body lying in the hospital bed and the silliness of his clown and balloon hospital gown - so incongruous with the topic at hand. He sighed and rubbed his head. "Okay, boss. I’m in."