Chapter Sixteen
Carly struggles fiercely against the man’s strong hands roughly gripping her waist and mouth. She twists and writhes under his hold, but to no avail. She’s half dragged and half carried across the dark, lonely, deserted docks. Her anger rises, and she kicks back at her captor as she makes a sharp bite on his hand. For a moment, her mouth is free, and she screams, "HELP! LET ME GO!" She’s rewarded with a sharp blow to her head and is brutally thrown up against the wall of a deserted, boarded up business. Carly’s hot cheek squeezes tightly against the damp, rotting wooden boards crisscrossing the shattered windows of the building, and she pants, trying to catch her breath. The man takes a length of cloth and firmly gags her with it until the force of the gag causes several of her teeth to impale her stretched lips. Her eyes widen in pain and terror, and she tastes the drops of blood as they descend on her tongue. Her hands are bound with rope, and her wrists strain against the harsh fibers, turning more raw and red by the minute with the frantic twisting and jerking motions she makes in her desperation to break free.
Carly hobbles on her feet, her right leg several inches taller with her high heeled shoe and her left foot bare and scraping painfully on the splintered wooden docks. As they near the end of the pier, Carly panics. At first, she thought that one of Sorel’s men was kidnapping her, preparing to stash her in a warehouse in exchange for a hefty ransom. But, now, as they leave the warehouse district and head toward a heavily wooded area close by, she realizes that this is something much more sinister and deadly.
She tries to scream through her gag, but can only make soft, ineffectual, guttural noises. Her captor never pauses in his purposeful stride, and Carly begins crying, thinking, I’m dead, Oh God, I’m dead!
~*~*~*~
"I want every available man scouting out every warehouse, hideout and cubby hole that Sorel has," Sonny tells Benny tersely as he runs his fingers through his mussed curly hair. "I want my wife found NOW, not later, not even one hour later, got that? Go get the troops. Find Carly." Sonny places his hands on his hips and turns away with a stony face, but his eyes betray his fear for his wife.
~*~*~*~
Carly has finally managed to kick off her remaining shoe, so that she can run for it if she ever gets away from this madman. They are now plodding through wet grass, and her feet are soaked and freezing. Carly tries to focus her mind and concentrate on an escape plan, but the sudden shrill call of a night bird and the realization that she’s now in a graveyard spook her and jangle her nerves. She looks down with wide eyes at the numerous gravestones that whisk by her vision as she stumbles along.
The man is mumbling angrily to himself, but Carly can’t make out the words. It’s definitely a foreign language and not one that she’s ever heard. She concentrates on memorizing his features so that she can identify him if, no when, she’s rescued. She’s determined that she’s going to survive this, she has so much to live for, Michael, Sonny, Bobbie. No way is she going to let him kill or maim her. She tries to stop and yank away from the kidnapper, but he growls menacingly and tightens his grip around her bloody, chafed wrists. She notices that he is rather handsome with long, blackish gray hair and very even, white teeth. But those eyes. His eyes are brown and very haunting, almost like he’s angry, demented, afraid and determined all at once.
"I’ll make his life a misery!" he grits out in Greek with a sour grimace marring his features. "Mine!" he shouts into Carly’s face before he chokes her with his arm around her neck and drags her toward a large building. When they reach the doorway, Carly discovers to her horror that it is a creepy limestone blocked mausoleum.
Finally at his destination, the man loosens Carly’s gag. Several crows call to one another and suddenly fly off when the night is shattered with Carly’s desperate, piercing shrieks, "No, No, NOOOO!"
~*~*~*~
It’s business as usual at the PCPD. The on-duty officers are either busy playing solitaire on the computer or chatting near the water cooler. No one notices the irate man in search of his son.
"What do I have to do here to get some service?" shouts Luke Spencer. A few law enforcement eyes glance his way, but resume their previous activities. Luke’s face turns beet red, and he sputters and steams. Finally, he stands up on top of his seat and noisily bangs his foot on the hard, wooden chair.
"Attention!" he yells, cupping his hand to his mouth. "May I please have your attention. There is a crime in progress. If anyone wants to know about it, contact me immediately."
Lieutenant Taggert yawns, stretches and slowly walks over to Luke with dead eyes and a scowl. This should be entertaining, he thinks sarcastically. Luke looks down at the top of the bald detective’s head and then hops off of his seat. The two men meet eye to eye, and Taggert says in a bored tone of voice, "What now, Spencer? Did your wife finally kick your sorry butt out of the house? Want me to lock you up? Are you looking for a place to sleep tonight?"
Luke smirks and then turns serious. "No, thank you Lieutenant. I have a missing son that needs to be found. He’s been abducted from his hospital bed."
"And how do you know that?" questions Taggert.
"His mother and I spoke to him, went out into the hall to catch a few winks in a chair, and discovered him missing two hours later. The hospital security guards can find no trace of him. He’s missing. I want him found," says Luke tensely. "That goon Andreas is still on the large and he’s responsible for trying to kill my son two times in the last week."
"Maybe he ran off with his girlfriend," suggests Taggert knowingly.
"Oh, yeah," snorts Luke. "Lucky has a broken leg, a broken head and he can’t hear. I’m sure they’re off dancing the cha-cha."
Taggert shrugs. "You never know," he replies. "Stranger things have happened."
Luke’s cell phone rings, and he excuses himself to answer it. "Luke Spencer," he intones gravely.
"Luke," replies Elizabeth’s tentative voice. "It’s Elizabeth Webber. I’m calling about Lucky."
"What about Lucky?" Luke says shortly. "He’s missing now, Elizabeth. I’m at the police station trying to get help to find him."
"He was here at my house less than an hour ago," explains Elizabeth. "He wanted me to tell you that he was alright and that he and Todd Manning were off hunting goons? Does that make sense to you, Luke?"
A dangerous gleam passes across Luke’s eyes. Damn that Todd, he thinks. "Yeah, darlin’ it does," he says with resignation. "Thanks for calling me. Did he give you any idea as to where he was headed?"
"No," says Elizabeth. "But he took off with a man and a woman in a black Mercedes. They were headed toward the docks."
"Good girl, Elizabeth," Luke says. "You’ve been a big help." He turns off the phone. They’re going to Wyndemere. I’d bet money on it, he thinks.
Luke rapidly dials another number, pauses and says, "Laura. I think he’s okay. He’s out trying to hunt down Andreas and heading for Wyndemere. I’m on his trail. Stay by the phone, Angel, in case he calls. Love you."
~*~*~*~
Elizabeth sits pensively on the side of her bed, swinging her legs up and down. Suddenly, she nods and claps her hands. She walks over to her dresser and pulls out a pair of black jeans and a black teeshirt. After she changes, she carefully arranges several pillows in her bed to make it appear that she is sleeping peacefully under the blankets, and she lifts the window to her room. Elizabeth crawls through the window, pulls it back down, cautiously makes her way to the ground and runs off to search for Lucky.
~*~*~*~
Todd, Blair and Lucky are scrunched together behind one rather large bush that frames the side of Wyndemere. They’ve been crouching in the same position for an hour and tempers are flaring.
"Don’t touch me," hisses Lucky as Todd leans into his leg.
"I’m just trying to shift my leg, Junior," sneers Todd. "Don’t get all hinky with me."
"Hinky?" asks Lucky. "What the heck kind of a word is ‘hinky?’ You’re so weird."
"Shhh, you two," chides Blair with a harsh whisper. "I’m trying to concentrate on that man in the window."
"You’re always concentrating on some man," replies Todd smartly. "I bet if it was a woman in the window, you’d be fast asleep."
Blair smacks Todd on top of his head, shifting his latex bald guy disguise to one side. "Shut up," she declares. "You think you’re so smart."
"Not the head," growls Todd through his fake Frito-bandito mustache. What have I been telling you?"
Blair reaches into her purse and produces a tiny bag of airline peanuts. She gently eases open the bag, but it still makes a light rustling sound. As Blair starts chewing on a few peanuts, Todd and Lucky’s attention is diverted.
"What are you munching on?" asks Todd. "I’m hungry," he whines. "Give me some."
"Yeah," echoes Lucky. "I haven’t eaten in like, two days. Give me a handful."
‘There’s not enough," protests Blair as she turns away with a frown. She shakes out another handful and starts eating again.
Todd lunges for the peanuts and falls on top of Blair. Blair’s hands fly up in the air, and the peanuts go sailing. They land with a light plop next to Lucky, who promptly picks them up and shakes them all into his hungry mouth. He munches like a hamster with a cheek full of nuts and smiles happily at Todd. With one hand, Todd grabs Lucky by the back of the head and tries to pry open his jaw with the other hand. "Give me those," he hisses angrily. Lucky fiercely shakes his head and uses his hands and feet to scoot further away from Todd. His long, blond disguise wig is now askew, thanks to Todd’s attempt at violence.
"Stop it, you two," Blair’s tense voice warns. "Someone is coming."
A man dressed all in black, from his hands to his feet, silently approaches the window beside the bush. Todd, Blair and Lucky freeze as still and silently as they can, each holding his or her breath since the man is only inches from their hiding place. The man eases the window open and steps inside, pausing only to pull the window back in place. It is too dark to identify him, but it is obvious that he moves with a graceful purpose and intent.
"What’s going on?" asks Blair.
"A robber?" shrugs Todd.
"Or a goon," states Lucky with a glint in his eye.
~*~*~*~
Stefan has been alternately pacing and shooting off terse orders into his phone for the last two hours. He’s genuinely worried about Nikolas. If Stavros has his son, what will become of him? Stavros is very dangerous and not to be trusted. Who knows what madness a taste of freedom will lead him to? So far, Stefan’s men have not been able to find the two. Where could they have gone in such a short amount of time? And how is Nikolas faring with his head wound?
Stefan dials another phone number and waits tensely until the other end picks up. "The yacht is on its way," he confirms. "Tomorrow, good, very good." He sets the receiver back down and frowns.
Stefan wanders over to his window and moodily stares out into the night. His hand rests on his medallion, and he fondles it with a soft rhythmic stroke. The moon is nearly full and casts its pale light upon the dark trees that line the perimeter of the property. Stefan is admiring the play of light and shadow, and does not notice that a man dressed in black has slipped into his study. The man approaches Stefan’s back with cautious, murderous steps.
~*~*~*~
Carly is forced into the mausoleum, and she trips and falls onto her hands and knees. As she tries to scramble to her feet, the man snatches a handful of her hair and lifts her up, walking her toward a still mound of purple stretched out on a concrete bench several yards away. He abruptly pulls her hair down so that she has to sit beside what now looks to be a body on the bench. Carly trembles with fear and trepidation. Her eyes pool with tears as she looks from the madman to the body next to her. Stavros’ eyes narrow wickedly, and he gestures toward Nikolas. "Your son," he growls, as he pulls down the purple altar cloth that covers an ailing Nikolas.
A look of confusion sets on Carly’s face. What is he talking about? Who is this? She reaches out a tentative, shaking hand to brush away the black hair from the young man’s face. "Nikolas," she whispers with a cracked voice. She grows concerned when she sees the network of puffy bruises covering his cheek and eye. Carly scoots closer to him and pulls his head into her lap as she strokes his hair. "Wake up," she says. Oh God, please wake up and help me! she thinks. Stavros watches the scene with crossed arms and a satisfied look on his face.
Carly lightly taps Nikolas’ face. "Nikolas, Nikolas," she calls. The young man’s eyes flutter, and he stares up at Carly. "What?" he asks in confusion. "Carly? Where are we? What’s going on?" Nikolas tries to sit up, but leans heavily against his companion with a groan. "Father? What have you done?"
Stavros replies in Greek, pointing toward Carly. "I brought your mother to you, my son. She will take care of you," he says.
Nikolas’ brow creases in worry and frustration. "She’s not my mother. Her name is Carly. My mother is Laura."
Alarm invades Stavros’ features, and he leaps over to the bench, roughly grabbing Carly by the chin and turning her face back and forth. She has the long, blond hair, but her eyes! They’re brown. She’s not Laura! Stavros releases Carly’s chin in disgust. His fists clench, and he places them on his hips. "You stay with my son and care for him," he instructs in Greek. "I’ll find Laura."
Carly looks to Nikolas for translation. "He wants you to stay with me," says Nikolas. "You’d better do as he says."
Stavros walks to the door and picks up the small bag of items that he’d bought at a store minutes before his kidnapping of Carly. Luckily, Nikolas had ample cash in his wallet, and Stavros had bought a few supplies. "Food," says Stavros in English, pointing to the bag. His intense brown eyes meet Carly’s scared brown ones. "Stay or you die," he says tersely in English. When he exits the door, Carly and Nikolas huddle together under the purple cloth, shivering and wondering what will happen next.
Outside of the mausoleum, Stavros plucks a large, old gravestone from its resting place, using it to block the door and wedge the two young people inside the endless rows of tombs.
~*~*~*~
"It’s the goon!" Lucky whispers loudly with a mouth full of peanuts. "He’s sneaking up behind Stefan." Todd and Blair peer up over the bush to get a better look.
"Dumb, Dumber, Dumbest," says a low, intense voice rolling through the darkness. The dynamic trio jumps and scrambles behind the large bush.
"Dad!" says Lucky. "What are you doing here? We’re busy."
"Why are you out of the hospital, Lucky?" questions Luke. "And since when can you hear?"
"Andreas is on the loose," replies Lucky with a light frown. "We had to escape so he wouldn’t try to kill us again. We were sitting ducks in that hospital."
"Yeah," says Todd, nodding his head sagely. "Sitting ducks."
Luke pushes Todd away. "Can it, baldly," he says roughly. "I want to hear my son. Now about those ears, Lucky."
Lucky shrugs. "Well, they just popped. I can hear fine now."
"Why are you running around with these clowns?" asks Luke as he points to first Todd, then Blair. "And what are you doing at Wyndemere?"
"Andreas," says Lucky in an insistent, annoyed whisper as he points to the window. "He’s in there with Stefan. We want to find out what he’s doing and take him down."
Luke crawls over to the window and quickly peeps into the lighted study. Look out, Stefan, he thinks as Andreas raises his black gloved hands to both sides of Stefan’s unsuspecting neck.
Into Thin Air
All in the Family
Dumb to the Third Power
Andreas Gets Pricked