Chapter 9: Turning the Tide
A word about Emily for those who have expressed concern: I’ve tried really hard to
avoid victimizing Emily in this series. Yes she’s in danger, she’s hurt, and her life is on
the line. But I think she’s coping with everything with courage and spunk and a lot of
inner braveness. After all, it was her actions that saved Lucky from Helena’s wrath and
saved her child for the moment anyway. Now if only someone can save her.......
Somewhere over the Midwest:
Lucky leans forward and closes the lid to his lap top, shifts back in his seat, and tries to
force himself too relax. No good. The tension in him is too real. He glances at the seat
next to him. Jonathan is sleeping. Lucky smiles as he remembers the boy’s awe at being
able to sit in first class. He can’t help but be amazed everytime he sees the boy smile.
Emily’s smile. Emily’s child.
He glances around the plane, trying not to notice the two bodyguards that Jason
had meet him at the San Diego Airport. On loan from associates according to Jason.
Both mean were heavily armed, although Lucky preferred not to think about how they
had managed to get aboard a commercial airliner with those arms. There are some
secrets to being a mobster that he would prefer not to know.
He glances at his watch for the tenth time in five minutes. He can’t stop himself
from watching the second hand tick by. Time is running out. Literally. They will be in
Port Charles in less than an hour. Jason’s car will meet them at the airport. Lucky only
hopes that Jason has a plan because he is at a loss.
He hates feeling this helpless. He hasn’t slept and has barely eaten since Emily
was taken. All of his energies were spent finding Jonathan. Now his exhausted mind and
body are beginning to collapse. And he can’t contain the fear. It could be too late he
realizes. He is gambling on the fact that Helena needs Emily alive to get at Jonathan. But
he could be wrong. It could be too late. He tells himself to stop thinking like this, that
he’s doing no one any good, but the images are parading across his mind and he can’t
stop them. The fear is so strong that it is like a living breathing thing inside of him, cold
and metallic to the taste. Wherever she was, she was hurt and she was in pain and there
was nothing-nothing- he could do to help her.
Not yet anyway.
Chula Vista
The house of Catherine and Raymond Wright
The suburban neighborhood is quiet in the midafternoon light. Most of the
children are in school, most of the parents at work. A quick glance down the street
reveals that most driveways, like the houses, are momentarily empty and devoid of life.
Except one.
The house on the corner has company as a red van pulls into the driveway. There
is no one to notice except the neighbor’s dog when four men, heavily armed with
automatic weapons, move into the house. No one hears the crash of the door as it is
kicked down. No one hears the rattling of bullets from within the house.
Minutes later one o f the men come out of the house. Reaching into the van, he
pulls out a cell phone and dials.
“The house is empty,” Silence. “Understood.”
Five minutes later the men are in the van and gone.
Five minutes after that the explosion that rocks the quiet neighborhood is
something that no one can ignore.
Somewhere unknown:
Emily is beyond feeling pain and she knows that isn’t a good sign. She gave in.
God forgive her she gave in. She told them what they wanted to know. Her soul
whimpers, the guilt is overwhelming. Her son, her child, and she had served him up to
Helena on a silver platter.
It doesn’t matter that the pain was beyond bearing. She should have born it, Emily
thinks. Please God, she prays silently, Please let Lucky find him first. Please.
She realizes that she has prayed more in the last month than she has in the last
decade. She only hopes that someone is listening.
She shivers on the cot of the room she is now held in. She has lost track of time
and place. She knows that she will live, at least for now. She doesn’t know if that is a
good thing or not. The thought of dying, of leaving this cold and empty place, has a
certain appeal. She’d be with her mother, safe in her mother’s arms.
Then she thinks of Jonathan. She knows first hand what it is like to lose a mother
and then to try to pick up the pieces afterwards. She remembers the way nothing in your
life ever fits together the same way it did before. She doesn’t want her son to grow up
like she did, never having anyone to really belong to. Alan and Monica tried. And she
loves them. But they never replaced her mother. Not in the ways that mattered. And she
thinks of Lucky. She thinks of that last night after she had told him everything. She
remembers what it was like to sleep in his embrace. The feeling of never wanting to let
go. The warmth of his touch. The blue of his eyes. She doesn’t know exactly what is
growing between the two of them, but something is. She knows that a part of him,
maybe the best of him, was still mourning his lost love. But there is a part of him that is
also reaching out to her. And she wants that she realizes.
Emily closes her eyes. Just let me hang on a little while longer, she prays silently,
before the darkness overwhelms her, just a little while longer.
Port Charles:
Jason’s estate is, ironically, almost a mirror of the Quartermaine estate. The
grounds are immaculately landscaped and the house, with its elegant lines and graceful
edges, looks like something that belongs on the cover of Architectural Digest. Only the
electric fence concealed within the walls, the heavy security gate, and the multitude of
discreetly placed cameras and strategically placed guards offer clues to what it really is.
The car carrying Lucky and Jonathan doesn’t stop at the gates, it doesn’t need.
The gates open before it gets there and the limo makes its way to the front of the main
house.
Lucky holds tight to Jonathan’s hand as they enter the estate, knowing that the
boy is scared and trying hard not to show it.
“It’s going to be okay,” Lucky leans down and whispers.
“I know,” Jonathan replies.
Lucky smiles at the boy as the guards show them in. He has never been to
Jason’s new home and the minute part of him that isn’t frantic with worry stops to
admire the immaculate decorating and the state of the art security. Still he realizes there
is something lacking about this place. For all of the wealth and refinement it contained,
it lacked heart. There was something cold at the center of this house.
Lucky and Jonathan are ushered into Jason’s office, which functions more as a
war room than at traditional office. Luke and Jason are both there and both look up as
they enter. Jason’s eyes soften almost imperceptibly as they fall on the small boy.
“You must be Jonathan,” he says reaching down to shake the boy’s hand. “I’m
Jason.”
“Are you a friend of my mother’s also?”
The three men exchange glances. Jason nods. “I’m a very close friend of your
mother’s. I knew her when she was a little girl.”
Jonathan’s eyes widen. He cannot imagine his mother as a little girl.
Jason gestures to one of his men. “Take Jonathan into the other room. I believe
we have some videos and stuff from when Michael used to visit. He also needs
something to eat. Jonathan go with him while we talk about how to help your mother.”
Jonathan looks at Lucky who nods. Jonathan leaves the room. Jason stops the guard. “I
want two men with him, armed, at all times.”
“Even here in the house?”
“Everywhere.” The guard nods and follows Jonathan out.
“He looks just like Emily, “ Jason says. Lucky nods.
“How are you doing Cowboy?” Luke asks Lucky, noticing the exhaustion in his
face.
“I’m okay,” Lucky replies. “I’ll be even better when you tell me what the plan is
for rescuing Emily from that bitch.” Lucky makes no attempt to keep the anger and the
hatred out of his voice.
Luke grins and leans back. “I was hoping you would ask that. It just so happens
that Jason and I have a plan.”
Somewhere Unknown:
They’ve moved her again, Emily realizes as she struggles to gain consciousness.
She doesn’t think she’s moved buildings, but she knows this isn’t the same room. She’s
lying on something hard and the room is filled with a strong light. The faint smell of
antiseptic lingers in the air.
She is about to open her eyes when she realizes that she hears voices and keeps
her eyes closed.
“How is she?” Helena’s voice. Like you care, Emily thought.
“More alive than she should be. Her wounds from the gunshot are infected and
she is becoming feverish. Add to that the effects of the lashing you gave her and I am
surprised I wasn’t summoned here to bury a body for you.”
“It would not be the first time.”
“No, it would not. But if you want this one to live you are going to have to back
off.”
“The slut knows where my great grandson is. I know it.” Helena’s tone is cold.
Somewhere in her state of mind Emily takes umbrage at being called a slut. One night of
stupidity did not make her a fallen women. Pregnant maybe. But not fallen. She has to
stop herself from giggling.
“I take it you did not find the boy at the address she gave you.”
Emily freezes and tries to make her feverish mind focus on what they are saying.
“No, there was no one there by the time my men arrived.”
He was safe...He was safe...He was safe....Thank you God...Thank you Lucky.
“When can she be ‘questioned again?” Helena asks.
“You mean whipped?”
“There were only five lashes before she fell unconscious,” Helena protests
casually. I would hardly call that a whipping.”
“Still, if you want her to be alive I insist you wait at least 12 hours to let the
antibiotics I’ve given her take effect. Whatever she says to you now will be the product
of a delusional mind.”
“It might be worth it. She will not be in any state to lie to me.”
“It makes no difference to me. Just let me know whether to bring a coffin with
me when I return tomorrow or my medical bag.”
Silence.
“Your bag dammit.” Helena swearing? Emily is surprised. “ Until I get my hands
on the child, the mother is the only pawn I have.”
There is silence again until Emily hears their footprints leaving.
She carefully opens her eyes. She is in some kind of medical office. She looks
around and realizes that she sees no cameras. Carefully and fighting the effects of
dizziness, she climbs off of the bed. Think, Emily. What would Luke do? Or Lucky? Or
forget them- what would Emily Bowen Quartermaine do? She moves over to the
medicine cabinet. For once she is grateful for her past as a drug addict. Thanks to that
experience, and growing up with two doctors as adopted parents, she knows what she is
looking for. She finds an empty syringe and fills it with a clear liquid. Capping the
syringe, she replaces the vial and places the syringe in the pocket of her robe. So far, no
one has searched her clothing or her body and she hopes that it stays that way. Helena
thinks she is weak. Helena is wrong.
She stops for a moment before she heads back to the bed. She spots a vial in the
back of the cabinet and knows what it is. She did a report once on euthanasia in high
school. She has a syringe, it could be over in minutes. Her hands shaking, she reaches to
open the cabinet. Then stops.
Her son is alive. Her son is free. So is Lucky. She owes it to both of them to try to
hold on.
Quietly she slips across the room and lies back down. When the doctor returns a
moment later, he has no clue that the young lady on his exam table has ever regained
consciousness. Emily keeps her eyes closed and feels for the syringe. She knows her
chances are slim, but she has to try.
Port Charles:
“You what?” Lucky is flabbergasted. He has never heard of anything so outrageous.
Jason shrugs. He will not apologize for his actions. He believes firmly, and has
for years, that the end justifies the means.
“I had the doctor implant a chip into Emily when she was wounded.” Jason holds
up the small metal prototype. “They are really more common than you think. They cost
a lot of money, but they are used to track people- mostly old people with Alzheimer’s or
young kids whose parents can afford it. The chip is implanted in the body and a satellite
is used to track the individual.”
“My God, Jason. It sounds like the chip the vet put in Foster.”
“Same idea,” Jason nods.
“And you gave me that lecture about letting her go.”
“I said to let her go. I didn’t say I was going to let her disappear. Not again.”
Lucky is silent. He can only imagine how angry Emily is going to be when she
discovers what Jason has done. He finds it almost unforgivable himself. Almost. If it
means that they will be able to find Emily in time......
“Let it go, Pardner. It may not be the way the Spencers conduct family business,
but the Bowen- Morgan- Quartermaine clan has always been unique. Kind of surprised
they haven’t implanted one of these into Michael.”
Jason is silent.
“Okay,” Luke swallows, “Forget I said anything. The important thing is using the
device to locate Emily.”
“Where is she?” Lucky asks, deciding to set aside his uneasiness. For the
moment.
Jason flips open a lap top and switches it on. There is a computer screen
displaying a map of the world.
“There,” he points to the blinking red light. “Mexico.”
Lucky looks at the screen. “Jason, does the fact that the light is still blinking..”
Jason cuts him off.
“It doesn’t mean a thing. The chip is designed to continue transmitting. Makes it
easier to find bodies.”
The three men are silent as they look at the blinking red light.
Author’s Note: There really is such an implant. I read an article about it in a magazine
about a year ago. They are used for small children and Alzheimer’s patients. A private
company will install the chip and then you pay a monthly service charge for monitoring.
Who says it still isn’t 1994?
