Chapter Four
Sonny Corinthos is wearing a blue and white ticking stripe apron over his black Armani suit. Earlier, he’d removed the jacket and draped it carefully over the kitchen chair. His French cuff links have been removed and placed in his pants pocket, and his lavender shirtsleeves rolled up. He lightly hums a tune under his breath, a Corinthos original with a combination of opera and Latin love song. He smiles occasionally as he works, his dimples flashing for no one but the ornate dinner that he’s preparing for his special lady. Sighing contentedly, he pulls down two more Cephalon pots from the copper overhead rack and places them over the gas burners of the steel commercial stove. Ever the neatnik, Sonny constantly wipes the counter and stovetop as he goes. Mixing bowls and silverware are promptly deposited into the dishwasher, and he continually replenishes the piping hot dishwater in the sink.
He’s outdone himself this time. Radishes curl seductively into moist, open flowers and carrots julienne as if by magic. A last touch of fresh parsley completes the beautifully presented meal. Sonny’s mind drifts to Carly who is waiting for him in their master bedroom. Dinner is "in" tonight, and neither plans on exiting the room for the rest of the evening. Sonny is a bit overheated from all of his work, and he flings off his apron before he further unbuttons his shirt, revealing his generously smooth chest. When both plates are prepared to his satisfaction, he places a bottle of red wine under one arm and a red rose between his teeth. Balancing his gourmet feast, Sonny opens kitchen door with one rakish foot, crosses the living room and steps up one stair.
As Sonny begins climbing the stairs, he hears a loud ruckus in the penthouse hallway and the firing of a gun. Reacting in less than one second, Sonny places the dinners on the stairs and pulls his ivory handled mini pistol from the garter that hugs the calf of his leg. Sonny has no guns in the penthouse out of protection for the young boy that lives under his roof, but Sonny is always personally armed. He runs for the front door and yanks it open then quickly steps to the side.
Poking his head out the doorway with his gun drawn, Sonny finds Johnny lying still on the floor next to the elevator. After he is sure that no one else is in the hallway, Sonny tucks his gun into his waistband and kneels over Johnny. Johnny’s eyes are closed, and it is obvious that someone has badly beaten him with the evidence of bruises on his jaw and cheekbone, and the trail of blood that runs from his swollen mouth. Sonny gently supports his favorite guard’s head. "Johnny," he says softly. "Can you hear me? Who did this to you?" Johnny moans and opens his eyes slowly. He starts to sit up, but falls quickly back to the floor. "Sorel," he rasps out in a breathless manner. "There were five of them -- they overpowered me. Told me… to tell you that this was just… a preview. They took off when I fired a shot at them." Johnny suddenly grimaces and closes his eyes as blood begins to flow more swiftly from his nose and mouth, indicating possible internal bleeding.
Sonny’s eyes display a mixture of dark sadness and dangerous anger. He gently lays Johnny’s head back on the floor and says, "We’re gonna get you to the hospital. You’re gonna be okay." Sonny painstakingly moves Johnny from the hallway to the penthouse living room. When he finally positions Johnny on the sofa, he yells for Carly. "CARLY. Come down here! Quick!"
After about 30 seconds, Carly comes running to the landing of the stairway in her silver negligee with the white marabou trim. She sees an unconscious Johnny on the sofa and cries, "Ohhh!" while she runs down the stairs two at a time barely missing her dinner plate on the bottom step. Carly rushes over to Sonny. "What happened?" Sonny looks up at her with dead eyes. "Sorel," he says with a leaden tone of voice. "Call 911, I think Johnny’s hurt bad. And, go tell Leticia to keep Michael upstairs. I don’t want him to see this." Carly grabs the portable phone on the end table and begins dialing. She bends over her husband’s curly brown head and places a kiss on his forehead. "Be safe," she whispers as her teary eyes meet Sonny’s worried gaze.
~*~*~*~
Luke and Stefan have been cooling their heels in the rinky-dink PCPD lockup for over five hours. There are only two cells, so the two enemies can scarcely avoid one another although they’re trying. Luke is a veteran of these lock-up situations and proceeds to nap on his bunk. Stefan is afraid to touch any surface as it might be contaminated, and so he paces the length and breadth of his tiny cell.
What could Lasha possibly see in that cretan? wonders Stefan. He is uncouth, he snores and he misses the toilet bowl. Surely, he does not expect his wife to continually clean after him. When Luke begins snoring like a buzz saw, Stefan makes a face and sighs loudly.
Luke is aware that Stefan has been staring at him. Unbeknownst to Stefan, Luke is only pretending to nap. He knows that his snoring bothers the Count, so he adjusts the decibel level even higher. How could Laura have possibly spent a minute with that man? he wonders. His face is all screwed up, and he looks like he is perpetually constipated. He needs to buy himself a prune farm.
~*~*~*~
Tammy gladly accepts the new order of premium restaurant coffee from the Corinthos’ warehouse. The deliveryman is new, but he is very efficient and quick. Tammy opens a new can of coffee and breathes in the fresh ground aroma. Simply luscious. Business had really picked up since Kelly’s began offering free coffee. Most people forget to pay anyway, so it is great for keeping them in the diner longer to order an extra slice of pie or a tub of chili to go.
About fifty customers come and go during the morning breakfast rush – twice the usual number. Tammy is really tired today. Liz has called in sick. She is resting at her grandmother’s house after a brief breakdown last night when she’d witnessed the bloody effects of the virulent virus that threatened to kill Lucky. Tammy shrugs and pours herself her fifth cup of java for the day. She needs the extra pickup, and her feet are killing her. As Tammy sips her coffee and runs a tired hand over her long, blond curly hair, she notices a rumbling noise rolling throughout the diner. A few customers look around, too, trying to identify the odd sound. A couple of people laugh sheepishly when they figure out that it is their own insides that are grumbling and moaning. Tammy places her hand on her stomach and furrows her brow. What the hell is that? Almost simultaneously throughout the fair city of Port Charles, people grab their stomachs and wonder what is going on. After another half-hour, there are terrified citizens jockeying for the last stall with toilet paper in restrooms throughout Port Charles’ malls, office buildings, schools, subway stations, portajohn work sites and city hall. Kelly’s coffee has hit its mark.
~*~*~*~
Sorel sits in his office chair, rocking back and laughing his balding head off. He glances over at the 100 or so empty boxes of laxative with which he doctored Sonny’s latest coffee shipments. That will teach Sonny for thinking he can run a legitimate business in this town.
~*~*~*~
The Port Charles Department of Health places a "Business Closed by Order of the City" sign in the window of Kelly’s. No more free coffee will be served today.
~*~*~*~
Stefan has counted one thousand laps around his cell, and his nerves are frayed past the point of mending by Luke’s incessant, rampaging snoring. Banging on the bars and shouting "Luke!" can’t break through the din and wake up the persistent offender.
Suddenly the buzz saw stops, and Luke sits up in his bunk, smacking his lips and stretching his arms to the ceiling. He casts a fish eye at Stefan and gravely asks, "What’s wrong, Count? Bat got your tongue?"
~*~*~*~
Sonny is looking pale with dark circles accenting his pained eyes as he rides in the speeding ambulance with an unconscious Johnny and another guard by his side. Johnny is one of his favorite employees and a friend as well. He doesn’t even want to think about Sorel right now because he needs to concentrate on getting Johnny better. Johnny can’t feel it, but Sonny is holding his hand, hoping that the simple, physical contact will help him to hang on until they reach the hospital. Sonny looks pointedly at one of the paramedics. "Why isn’t he waking up?" he asks tensely. The paramedic shakes his head and says, "We’re not sure, but he seems to have internal injuries, and that may be serious." The paramedic adjusts Johnny’s IV and places another call into GH Emergency to prepare them for the arrival of the patient.
Another ambulance is approaching General Hospital from an opposite direction in the city. It’s sedated passenger is strapped firmly onto a stretcher, and Detective Garcia keeps nervously looking at his face, afraid he’ll wake up and try to strangle him. You never know with these psychos. They’re unpredictable and seem to have extra energy when excited. Garcia looks again at Nikolas who is turning red in the face and starting to stir. "What’s up with the kid?" Garcia takes a paramedic by the arm and points at Nikolas. "His face is beet red. He was real pale and sweaty a minute ago." The paramedic places a blood pressure cuff around Nikolas’ arm and tells the other one, "His blood pressure is rapidly elevating – it’s now 210/100. We need to get him there quickly before he strokes or goes into cardiac arrest." Garcia’s eyes bug, and the paramedic says, "The patient was in shock before, that’s why he was pale and sweating. He’s now experiencing elevated blood pressure. It may be his mental or emotional state. The kid was violent and psychotic when we arrived at PCPD. We’ll wait for the docs to tell us what’s going on."
~*~*~*~
Alexis and Laura rush into the emergency waiting room, half running and half walking. They are both out of breath since they sprinted from the parking lot outside. They beat the ambulance to GH by driving wildly through the back roads. Alexis abruptly stops and turns to her right when she hears her name. Laura keeps walking toward the emergency room desk so she can give the nurses medical history on Nikolas before he arrives.
"Alexis," Sonny wearily intones. "What are you doing here?"
"I might ask you the same thing," Alexis replies with concern reflecting from her pretty brown eyes. Sonny looks small, pale and tired sitting in an old orange chair with unraveling seams, and Alexis never remembers seeing him in such a vulnerable state. Sonny doesn’t say anything, and Alexis tentatively asks, "Where’s Carly?" She’s afraid that something bad has happened to his wife.
Sonny nervously rubs his nose and then fingers his wedding ring. "Carly’s at home with Michael and Leticia. I’m here ‘cause Sorel hurt Johnny real bad. I’m worried about him. He never regained consciousness, and he’s been in there for over an hour. Nobody will tell me anything!" Sonny slams an old wrinkled magazine into the end table nearby and buries his face in his hands. Sonny’s muscle-bound guard has a stone face, but he adjusts his stance and flexes his hands in response to Sonny’s outburst. Alexis sits down next to Sonny and pats him hesitantly on the back. She’s not too good at this comforting, nurturing stuff.
Sonny and Alexis both look up startled as blinding lights flash repeatedly in their direction. "Oh no," groans Alexis. A reporter shouts, "Eddie’s Angel! Or is it ‘Fallen Angel,’ he sniggers and points at Sonny. Sonny quickly rises with a deadly look in his eyes and tension in his clenched jaw. The guard moves over and stands closely behind the group of reporters. Sonny knocks the camera out of the big-mouthed reporter’s hand, and it falls to the floor with a crashing tinkle as the lens shatters on impact. "Hey, my camera!" the outraged reporter yells into Sonny’s face. The guard places a beefy hand on the reporter’s shoulder, and Sonny replies, "Oops. My mistake. Bill me." Sonny’s eyes steadily meet the reporter’s until the guy looks away from Sonny’s hard, brown eyes. Sonny looks to the left as a video camera captures the scene. When Sonny starts moving towards him, the man turns and runs out of GH.
Alexis sighs and says, "I’m sorry, Sonny. These reporters are such pests." Sonny asks Alexis, "Why are you here? I never got a chance to ask you."
Alexis shakes her head. "When it rains, it pours," she says. "Laura and I are waiting for Nikolas to be brought in by ambulance. We were just at the PCPD. They arrested Nikolas for the murders of Helena and Emily Quartermaine. He was obviously traumatized and in need of some care, so he’s being brought in for diagnosis."
"What?" Sonny asks incredulously. "Emily is dead." His heart starts breaking and his eyes tear up as he remembers Jason’s kid sister. In Sonny’s mind, he sees and hears Emily’s laughter and her shining eyes as she relates the latest Quartermaine gossip. He feels her love and humor as she gives him a quick hug and a kiss on his cheek before she leaves the penthouse. He sighs and shakes his head in disbelief.
"We don’t think that Nikolas killed Emily. The times and events don’t match." Alexis lowers her voice to a whisper. "But something definitely did happen to Helena. She was killed last night in the hospital. I’m glad she’s gone, but I hope Nikolas didn’t do it. We haven’t been able to talk to him yet. He’s in no condition to communicate," she adds sadly.
"I wish you and Johnny the best," Alexis says as she places a hand on Sonny’s arm. "Let me know how he is. "OH! I must go now. Nikolas is here!" Alexis runs behind the paramedics, Garcia and a strapped down Nikolas who is now awake and violently jerking at his restraints with a very red face glaring at the world.
The continuing tale of psycho-boy
Let the war begin!
Port Charles media: look out