Chapter Fifteen
"You might want to reconsider," says Sorel as Sonny is in the process of squeezing the trigger of his gun. "Seeing as your wife is not by your side at the moment," he adds with a bemused expression on his face. "Where is your wife anyway?" he inquires, templed fingers tapping his lips in concentration. Sorel waves his left hand and inclines his head toward Sonny. "Is she at home, sound asleep in your marriage bed? Or..." he says trailing off his sentence ominously, "Is she…being kidnapped as we speak? Which one could it be?" Sorel’s two hands move up and down in imitation of a balance scale.
Sonny lowers his gun and whips Sorel’s office chair around. He grabs Sorel’s tie and yanks the man’s face one inch away from his intense, glaring eyes. "This is between YOU and ME!. You changed the rules of the game when you killed my man, Johnny. Now that I’ve evened that score, it still is between you and me," Sonny says as he jabs his gun at Sorel’s chest.
"Oh, I don’t know," Sorel answers with an amused tone of voice. "Who is the gamekeeper? Who sets the rules of the game? You? I don’t think so.You mess with MY territory in MY town, you pay the price," he says. "You try to run a business without paying tribute to ME, then you lose your business. It’s all a rather simple concept to grasp." Sorel sneers. "For most people."
"We have different business segments," Sonny says. "I don’t do drugs. There’s no problem here."
"Oh, Saint Sonny, let me lay myself prostrate at your altar," replies Sorel. "There’s only room for ONE businessman in this town, and I’ve decided that it’s me, not you. You pack your bags and fly away to Puerto Rico, or your "Carly-babes" will join your dead wive’s club."
Sonny makes a yelling growl and flashes his gun in Sorel’s face.
Sorel picks up a phone and hands it to Sonny. "Why don’t you call your little love nest and see if cookie-wookie is home? Sorel is trembling inside, as he knows his bluff has a fifty-fifty chance of succeeding or failing. Luck is on my side, he thinks. That slut is out messing around with someone else I’m sure. I’ll have my men grab her as soon as Sonny leaves this place. "I know your home phone number, here, let me dial for you." Sorel’s thick finger rapidly presses seven numbers on the phone. "It’s ringing," he says happily as he hands the phone to Sonny.
Sonny’s face is stony. "Be there, Carly, be there," he silently implores. The phone rings seven times, and then the answering machine picks up. Sonny throws the phone at Sorel. "She’s asleep, the machine is picking up."
"Why don’t you just skedaddle on home to find out?" suggests Sorel with one eyebrow raised.
Sonny marches over to the door and turns. "This isn’t over, Sorel," he growls. "Not by a long shot."
Sorel rocks back in his chair and chuckles. That bimbo, she’s not home. I knew it.
~*~*~*~
Todd slips a note under the bathroom door of Blair’s hotel room. It reads, "Come on out, Lucky. I won’t hurt you. Promise."
Lucky shakes his head as he reads the note. He’d been camped out in the bathroom for half an hour after Todd had threatened him. Lucky reaches for one of Blair’s red lipsticks and scrawls a reply in the form of an obscene cartoon on the back of the note. It appears to be pair of buttocks with a lip print on one cheek. Lucky slips it under the door.
Todd turns five shades of red when he sees the note. "UN-LUCKY!!" he screams. "Come out or I’ll kill you. I’ll take this door off of the hinges with my bare hands!" Todd huffs and puffs after his emotional outburst and rearranges his combover. "Come on, Lucky," he whines. "I gotta go." Oh great, he thinks. I forgot the kid can’t hear. Todd scratches out another note and slips it under the door. A few seconds pass, and he hears the sound of evil laughter on Lucky’s side of the door. The note slides back to Todd. "Give me $100," it reads.
Todd contemplates using his muscular football player shoulders to break down the door, but his bladder reminds him of the urgency of the issue. He pulls out his leather wallet and leafs through the bills. He has exactly $75 in his possession. Two minutes after he pushes it under the door, Lucky flings wide the door and stands there with a big grin. He motions into the bathroom and steps aside gracefully. As Todd rushes in, and Lucky walks out, Lucky says, "You owe me $25."
After Todd exits the bathroom looking greatly relieved, he grabs the laptop and types. NOW WE GO GOON HUNTING.
Lucky nods seriously and types. WE START AT WYNDEMERE.
~*~*~*~
Stefan is pacing in his study, his hair in disarray and his face scrunched up from yelling into the phone. "You find my brother – AND my nephew - within the hour or expect to be carrying your head on a platter!" Stefan stares at the phone and then throws it violently at the wall of books lining the study. He leans against his mahogany desk, panting with the strong emotions that besiege him.
~*~*~*~
Stavros stiffens, and his eyes narrow as his attention is drawn to the low voices outside of the chapel. He is seated on a pew with his son stretched out asleep beside him, wrapped in a purple altar cloth for warmth against the cold night air. He covers Nikolas’ mouth, and swiftly rolls him off of the pew and under the wooden seat. His eyes meet his son’s, and the two communicate wordlessly. Huddled together under the pew, the two wait silently as Stefan’s men enter the chapel. Stavros’ mind is racing. He will kill these men with his bare hands if he has to. No one will separate him from his son again.
One man nudges the other. "He’s not in here," he says plainly with a swish of his flashlight around the room. "Could the undead bear to enter a church?" he jokes nastily. The other man snorts and shakes his head. "Let’s try the docks," he suggests. As the two men exit, Stavros gets a very wicked lopsided grin on his face. I wish to kill them.
After waiting half an hour, Stavros decides it is safe to leave the chapel. "Come, brephos," he says gently. "We must move and stay ahead of Stefan." Stavros strolls up to the altar and steals the white candles and matches. "We will need these," he explains to a very quiet and subdued Nikolas. With the candles in his firm hand, and his son beside him, Stavros leaves the chapel.
Father and son walk the length of the graveyard. Stavros cranes his neck left and right, his long black and gray hair flying in the wind, constantly searching for protected, hidden shelter. Nikolas is silent and leans heavily on his father. At the far end of the graveyard, the two men stop in front of the mausoleum. When Stavros pushes on the door, it slowly creaks open with a dusty, unused sound.
Stavros lights a candle and enters cautiously. Nikolas drags along behind him. The warm yet dim candlelight bounces off of rows and rows of square, metallic crypt markers running parallel in the large rectangular room. The high ceilings give the space an airy yet eerie feeling. Any sudden, scraping noise occurring in this room would be sure to raise the hair on the back of anyone’s neck, even a Cassadine.
There are several meditation benches running parallel to the crypts, and Stavros heads for one bench, seating Nikolas down on it and laying him back. He adjusts the purple altar cloth around his son and sits beside him. He strokes Nikolas’ hair while he thinks. He is amazed at how much his head has cleared since his escape from Wyndemere and his missed injection from Nurse Christy. Stavros takes in a very deep breath, holds it, then releases it smoothly. I must find Laura, he thinks. She will take care of our son. Stavros strokes his chin. We need supplies. It is safer to move around at night. Nikolas is asleep. I can search for what we need in Port Charles. It has been so long since I have seen this rotten town. A look of supreme distaste travels over Stavros handsome features. We must return to Greece, where the sun is warm and the Cassadines rule. I will regain my title as Prince, and Nikolas will learn from me. Stefan will answer for his betrayal. Stefan will pay dearly.
~*~*~*~
Sonny pounds on the elevator UP button. Come on, come on. At last the elevator arrives. He steps in and quickly pushes the button for the Penthouse. Fear surrounds his heart and begins squeezing as Sonny watches the floors light up with the climbing of the elevator. At the Penthouse level, he exits the elevator and runs for the door to his home.
His large bodyguard Ernie is stationed serenely at the entrance to the apartment. "Ernie," says Sonny tensely. "How long have you been here?"
Ernie shifts his stiff stance and looks at Sonny with an expressionless face. "Half an hour, Mr. Corinthos," he answers with his deep bass voice.
"Who was here before you?" Sonny inquires.
"No one, boss," says Ernie. "I figured Mrs. Corinthos let him leave early or something."
Sonny’s eyes flash dangerously and he pushes Ernie’s chest in rage. "I don’t PAY you to think. You got that?"
Ernie nods seriously, his expression stony.
Sonny paces and runs his hand over his black, curly hair. "Someone is to be stationed outside that door at all times," he says, grimacing and revealing his dimples at the same time. "If anything is unusual or out of order, you investigate and you call me."
"Yes, Mr. Corinthos," Ernie replies seriously.
Sonny shakes his head in disgust and enters the Penthouse. "Carly!" he calls out. "Come down here, babe. It’s important." Silence greets Sonny’s voice, and a chill runs up his spine. "CARLY!" he shouts, running up the stairs two at a time.
He enters their master bedroom and sees that she has been there recently with the evidence of a rumpled, unmade bed, the satin sheets still revealing the curvaceous mold of her body. "Carly?" he asks in a small, worried voice. He looks in the bathroom and then proceeds to the other bedrooms down the hall. No Carly.
"DAMMIT!" he screams as he punches the wall in the hallway. Tears well in his eyes, and his mouth sets hard as he considers the possibilities surrounding his wife’s disappearance and Sorel’s ominous words.
~*~*~*~
Todd and Lucky pile into the back of Blair’s Mercedes for the second time that evening. Lucky listens to their conversation contentedly, still hiding the fact that he can now hear. Todd nudges Lucky and points to the laptop. It reads: ARE YOU OKAY?
Lucky smiles and nods. He grabs the computer and types: PLAN A FOR WYNDEMERE?
Todd nods and chuckles.
"Hey, Todd," says Blair as she looks into her rearview mirror. "I overheard some people talking at the hospital about some kid that just died. He crashed his Jaguar into an oak tree and the whole thing went up in flames. This prune-faced blonde man was telling the parents. It was this poor couple that was outside of Pipsqueak’s room. Sad stuff."
Lucky turns a whiter shade of pale and swallows hard several times, trying to bring some moisture into his suddenly dry mouth.
"What was his name?" Todd asks. "Maybe we can work up an angle for the new newspaper. Something with a catchy headline like, Up in Smoke: Playboy dies.
Blair laughs. "Yeah, I thought you might be interested. I don’t remember hearing his last name, but they called him Nikolas."
"Oh, I like that," replies Todd. "Nikolas rhymes with lots of things, let’s see…."
"STOP!" screams Lucky.
Blair’s heart jumps and races a mile a minute at the unexpected sound of Lucky’s voice. She quickly maneuvers the car to the side of the road and turns to look at Lucky with her mouth hanging open in surprise.
"He’s my brother," says Lucky in a stunned voice. "My brother was killed?" Lucky’s face falls.
"Junior!" says Todd appreciatively with a wide, evil grin. "You’ve been holding out on us. I’m impressed. How long have you been able to hear?"
"Since I locked myself in the bathroom. I cracked my neck, and my ears popped. Voila," said Lucky as he holds his hands to his ears, then dramatically opens up his fingers. His chin quivers. "Elizabeth. I need to see her."
"Oh, your girlfriend," replies Todd with a smirk. "That little short…with the tight…and the cute little…" Todd makes semi-obscene motions with his hands.
~*~*~*~
Lucky stands nervously on Audrey Hardy’s porch and frantically rings the doorbell several times. Elizabeth answers the door with a scared look on her face and quickly slams it shut in Lucky’s face. Lucky stands there with his mouth open. "Elizabeth," he says. "It’s me, it’s Lucky."
The door creaks open a crack and one suspicious eye regards the longhaired, scarred freak standing on the porch.
"You don’t look like Lucky," replies Elizabeth with a fearful catch in her throat.
"Oh!" exclaims Lucky as he reaches for his long blond wig and rips it off of his head. "I’m wearing a disguise," he whispers as he looks around him to make sure no spies have heard.
Elizabeth flings open the door and drags Lucky in as she plants a huge kiss on his shocked lips.
"Damn, that kid lives up to his name," Todd says, watching the scene from behind a large tree.
Blair cranes her neck to get a better view, and lightly punches Todd as she laughs.
Once in the house, Lucky pries himself from Liz’s passionate arms. "Elizabeth. No one can know that I’m here or out on the street. Todd and I – we’re looking for Andreas, that goon who murdered Emily and tried to kill us. He’s Helena’s boytoy, and he’s out on a rampage," he explains. "But I heard today that Nikolas was killed?"
Elizabeth returns his sad look. "Yes, I heard on the news. I’m so upset. Oh, Lucky, I’m so sorry." Liz tries to ease the pain with yet another passionate kiss.
Lucky steps back again. "Why haven’t I heard from you these past few days?"
Liz’s face screws up into a nasty look. "My grandmother, who else," she says rolling her eyes. "She said that I need several days of bedrest after my big ordeal, and that from now on I should stay away from those troublesome Spencers and Cassadines."
"What’s new?"
"Yeah, I know. But, she’s been watching me like a hawk this time. She won’t even let me make one phone call."
"Elizabeth. I need you to talk to my dad and tell him I’m alright, that I’m conducting an investigation. I’ll call him soon, but for now, I’m really busy and hot on the trail of the goon. Can you tell him that?"
"Sure, Lucky," Liz says, looking confused. "You’re leaving now?"
"Gotta go on a goon-hunting mission, babe," says Lucky with a salute. He kisses her. "Love ya."
~*~*~*~
Carly’s high heels make regular clicking sounds as she walks along the wide, wooden planks of the docks. The area is lonely and deserted with the warehouse workers long gone and relaxing in the area’s bars. She’s worried sick about Sonny. She knows he’s been devastated by Johnny’s unfortunate death, and wonders if he’s meeting with Sorel. Damn, she knows Sorel has an office somewhere nearby, but everything looks so different in the deep shadows of the night.
A minute ago, she thought she heard footsteps, but she hasn’t heard anything for awhile, so she lets her guard down just a bit. Her eyes squint as she tries to read the name on the street sign. Her heart jumps in her chest as she realizes that she has gone too far. She’s never been on this part of the docks before, and she’s heard rumors of kidnappings, rapes, and other unmentionables. She wishes nervously that she’d stayed in the warmth and safety of her home and waited for Sonny to return.
Carly walks several steps further and cries out inadvertently as her ankle turns and the heel of her stiletto twists and cracks. "Damn!" she swears. She bends over to unstrap the ankle and pull the shoe off. Turning the shoe back and forth in the dim streetlight and looking dismayed, she wonders how in the world she’s going to get home on one high heel. In her distraction, she doesn’t hear the swift approach of a man on a mission.
Carly’s long, blonde hair whips frantically against her face as one large, strong, tan hand covers her mouth and the other grips her firmly by the waist, lifting her up in the air. Carly’s eyes widen in terror and panic as her feet dangle and squirm furiously, one shoed and the other bare. She tries to scream, but it makes no difference as she’s carried off into the waiting night.
On to the crypt!
My kingdom for a peanut
A good night for a goon