Sarah sat quietly, her automatic weapon carefully laid across the table as she meticulously cleaned each section of the deadly gun before quietly reassembling it so that it would be ready for whatever they had to face.
Her gaze wandered momentarily across the cabin to the door to the cockpit, where Jagger was serving as pilot, setting the jet on a course using information fed to them from the satellite tracking system she had planted on Kosokov. Kosokov's jet was a few hours ahead of them on a course that appeared to be headed straight for his base compound in the Balkans.
Setting aside her weapon for the moment, Sarah reached instead for the plans to Kosokov’s compound in the Balkans, staring at them intently hoping to find something, some weakness in the compound’s plans that they could exploit to get in and hopefully through some miracle somehow manage to get out alive.
She sighed as she rocked back on her knees. There was a reason no one had ever tried to go after Kosokov in his own compound. The thick barbed wire walls with guard towers strung like Christmas lights didn’t exactly resonate friendliness. Plus the hundred or so extremely well trained mercenaries who were permanently stationed in barracks inside the compound didn’t match anyone’s idea of a welcoming committee. If they had time maybe they could plant someone on the inside who could block the alarm and then they ……
But they didn’t have time. Or at least they didn’t have enough time. Scorpio had given them a 72-hour deadline Jagger said. And that was at least ten hours ago. They had no clue where in the vast compound Kosokov was keeping Emily. Hell they weren’t even sure that Emily was in the compound. For all they knew, Kosokov could have had his men take her someplace else, maybe some hellhole of a prison in a jungle where the smell of rotting human waste would….
She breathed deep and forced herself to stay here in this moment. Slowly the sense of panic subsided and she began to think.
What do you know about Kosokov? She asked herself slowly. Or maybe the question should be what do you not know about Kosokov? He’s an egotistical bastard. He grabbed Emily knowing that his deal with Jason for the guns would be off. He’s not afraid of the authorities. WSB. Interpol. FBI. CIA. They can’t touch him and he knows it. He’s obviously not afraid of any retaliation the Corinthos/Morgan organization might make for what he did. Nor is he afraid of anything the Cassadine family might do to him for having Nikolas killed. A man that sure of himself isn’t going to hide his newest toy from the world Sarah surmised as her gaze wandered almost unseeing over the blueprints. He’ll bring Emily here where he will torture her and do whatever he needs to break her. And when he has broken her, he’ll display her like a trophy as his latest conquest before he gets bored of her and has her killed her.
If he lives that long. Sarah vows silently that he won’t get the chance to break Emily like he tried to break her. When those 72 hours were up, Kosokov would either be dead or she would be. It was that simple. She wasn’t going to let him live. She traces the blueprints, finding the section marked living quarters and digs her fingernails into the paper, cutting and tearing it. He will die. He will die before he can hurt Emily like he hurt me. Before he can kill another person like he killed my parents, like he killed Nikolas. She closed her eyes at the pain the thought of Nikolas’s death brought. She remembered the youth who had been her first love and she felt like crying. Instead she clutched the gun in her lap a little tighter, feeling the familiar comfort of its heavy metal, imagining the satisfaction of being able to point the barrel at Kosokov and pull the trigger. Her resolve having returned, Sarah turned her attention back to the blueprints and to finding what a way to pull off the miracle they would need.
"Sarah?"
She looked up, nodding coldly at Jason but not bothering to reply, trying not to notice how her body reacted to his voice, to his nearness.
Jason sighed. It was hard to believe that a few short hours ago they had been lovers. She'd been reserved and remote from the minute they had began planning this mission, her manner icy, and her voice cold.
He was almost certain it was an act. There were the moments their eyes would catch and the heat would rise up between them like some kind of tangible thing you could touch and feel. And get burned by. There were the moments when their bodies brushed against each other where he would see her tense up like it was taking all of her control to not touch him.
Or maybe he was just projecting his own feelings of frustration and desire out on her. He watched her now, her long silken hair pulled back into a ponytail that revealed the graceful curve of her neck where just a few hours ago he had trailed kisses.....
"Jason?" She had to say his name twice before he snapped out of the trance he was in. He stared at her, trying to act nonchalant but feeling like some schoolboy caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
"I was wondering if you needed any help?" He congratulated himself for being able to think, much less carry on a conversation.
"Only if you're good at creating a miracle."
"Pardon me?"
Sarah almost smiled and Jason's heart almost stopped. "Never mind." Pause. "I think this plan definitely falls under the 'make it up as you go along' category. The only thing we have going for us is surprise. Kosokov would not once for even a second imagine that someone or anyone for that matter would have the guts to go straight into his compound. The odds are so incredibly stacked against us, against any of us, making it out of this alive."
"Try not to be so optimistic." Jason remarked dryly.
Sarah somehow managed not to blush under Jason's direct gaze. "I didn't say it was impossible. Just difficult. Extremely difficult. Although we do have a few pluses besides the surprise category. Jagger picked up a few "toys" that will help and if we can work fast, get in and get out as soon as possible, we might be able to pull it off. The trick will be locating Emily in the compound. We won't have time to go knocking on doors and waiting to see what happens and who answers. If I just knew where he was holding her....." With a frustrated shake of her head, Sarah pushed the blueprints away. "Damn."
He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder as he kneeled down to look at blueprints. "It's going to be okay."
She looked up at him warily. "I should be the one reassuring you, you know. She's your sister."
"Yeah she is." Jason didn't look at her as his eyes studied the blueprints intently. His words were solemn as if he was making a vow and maybe he was. "Which means that I'm going to see to it that she's safe and then I'm going to blow the bastard who tried to hurt her to hell and back."
"It's not going to be that easy."
"Maybe not." Jason agreed. "But that's how it's going to be." Pause. "And Sarah."
"Yeah?"
He turned to look at her and she could almost feel herself drown in the intensity of his gaze.
"This isn't your fault either."
There was a moment of silence between them before Sarah looked down.
"That's easier said than done."
"Why are the walls over here so thick?"
"What?" Sarah shook her head and was about to make a comment about the absurdness of his statement when she realized he was looking at the blueprints.
"This section." Jason pointed to a corner of the compound. "The walls are twice as thick as the rest of the compound. The question is why?"
"A thicker wall would be less vulnerable to heat scopes or other intrusive devises." Sarah suggested her mind racing. "It could be part of his security system."
This time it was Jason who shook his head. "Then the thicker walls would be everywhere, not just this one section. The thick walls have nothing to do with security. I think it’s the material, like the walls are made of cement blocks which would be thicker than wood or even brick."
Sarah shuddered. "Cement walls? Like some kind of prison? "
"Exactly. " Jason hesitated. "But he wouldn't have Emily there. Not if he's bent on some kind of twisted seduction." Pause. "Not if his goal is to make Emily his mistress."
"Not seduction," Sarah corrected softly, her eyes bleak. "And he doesn't want Emily as a mistress, not in the way you are thinking anyway. He wants Emily as his own toy to play with- a young and beautiful sex slave who will do and put up with anything he says. For that to happen, he doesn't want to seduce her he wants to break her. Destroy her spirit. Make her believe that she doesn't have a choice. Make her believe that she doesn't deserve any other choice."
Jason's heart ached at her tone. "Then he would keep her in the prison."
"Until she breaks. "
"Then she'll be there a long time." Jason's voice held a firm conviction. "Emily won't break that easy. She's tougher than most people think."
Sarah said nothing, simply looked away for a minute and Jason, realizing the implication of what he had just said, swore softly.
"Look I didn’t mean to imply that you weren't tough or anything..." he began and then stopped, unsure of what to say and uncomfortable with that feeling of uncertainty. "I'm sorry."
He winced at the bruised look in her eyes. "It's okay."
"No, no it's not." Jason's words were soft and he moved his hand to cover hers. "Sarah what you've been through.... the fact that you've somehow managed to retain your sanity..."
"Questionable." Sarah meant the words to be light but they came out anything but and Jason ignored her interruption.
"You are one of the strongest people I have ever had the privilege to meet."
Their eyes locked again and this time Sarah couldn't break away. "Jason I..." Her voice was breathless and inviting not the cool tones she'd meant to use.
Almost of their own violation, Jason's lips lowered to hers and the contact between them made Sarah shudder and catch her breath, wanting more even as she forced herself to tore away. "This isn't right." She tried to run her hand through her hair but stopped when she realized that it was in a ponytail. "Look Jason, I'm not going to deny that there's an attraction there, I think what happened between us earlier proved that, but it doesn't mean anything and it can't happen again."
Jason took a deep breath. "What if I said it did mean something and I'd very much want it to happen again.
Sarah stared at him in shock, not believing the words she was hearing when an explosion rocked the plane.
Kosokov’s Compound
Emily stared almost uncomprehendingly at the figure in front of her, reaching out a tentative finger to trace the line of his jaw, careful to avoid the bruise along one side. She expelled a breath that she hadn’t known she was holding as she moved closer tentatively.
“I’m not dreaming.” She whispered the words shakily as she brushed the tears away. “This isn’t an hallucination. I’m not finally going crazy.” She ran the back of her hand down the side of his jaw and his neck. “You’re real. You’re really here.”
She brushed back the strands of blonde hair that had fallen in front of his eyes soothingly. “But how? You died. The fire. The body. My God all these years….”
She closed her eyes as the thought of what he had been through, what he had endured left her feeling nauseated and helpless. She heard him moan again and his hand clutch his stomach, but his eyes didn’t open. “Shhh.” She kept her tone low and soothing. “It’s okay, Lucky. It’s okay. You’re not alone anymore. You’re never going to be alone again.”
His eyes fluttered open and she found herself staring straight into their blue depths. “Em?” His voice croaked and her named sounded strangled, like he hadn’t spoken in a long time. “Emily?”
She smiled nonetheless and considered the sound of his voice beautiful. “Yeah it’s me. A little older and probably none the wiser, but its still me. “
“How?” She pushed him gently down when he would have struggled to get up.
“You know the funny thing is that I was just about to ask you the same question. What happened Lucky? There was a fire and everyone thought you were dead and…” She stopped talking when she saw the physical pain his efforts to respond were creating. “Stop. It’s okay.” She repeated the word for the benefit of both of them. “You can tell me later when you are feeling better.” She looked around the prison cell. “After all it doesn’t really look like either of us are going anywhere anytime soon.”
“Now that Miss. Quartermaine or may I call you Emily is where you are wrong.” A new voice entered the cell as the door opened, flooding the room with light and making it hard for Emily to see. “You at least are very much going somewhere. In fact you are going with me.”
Emily hesitated in confusion; the voice was younger, much younger than Kosokov’s. The figure standing in the light was not as heavy set either. She tried to make it out from the other men who entered the room, heavily armed with assault weapons.
She shook her head. “Who are you? What do you want?” Even as a confused Emily backed away, she moved to protect Lucky.
“Let’s begin with the who, shall we as I think what I want is quite obvious. I am Dimitri. Dimitri Kosokov.”
“His son?”
“His nephew.”
“How come no one…”
“Knows who I am? Or that I exist?” Dimitri smiled a cold smile that made Emily sick in the pit of her stomach. “I am, how do you Americans say it, a bastard? My mother was the General’s youngest sister but she was scared of him because of his, shall we say, unusual, appetites, so she ran away when she was sixteen with my father. My father was a business partner of the General’s for many years. He abandoned my mother when I was a small child and she died a few years later. I grew up in an orphanage in Romania. I am sure you have heard stories about the orphanages in Romania.” Emily averted her eyes. “I see that you have. It would be a sad and run of the mill story if my uncle had not found me a few years ago and brought me here to be educated and trained as his heir.”
Emily shuddered to think about what his training had included even as the look in her eyes made her feel dirty.
He stepped forward and Emily literally felt her skin begin to crawl.
“Don’t touch me.” She tried not to let the fear racing through her show in her voice. “Your uncle had me brought here and he won’t like it if you…”
“Wrong again.” Dimitri’s voice was soft and threatening. “My uncle didn’t bring you here for himself, he brought you here for me. You are my present, mine to do with as I desire.”
Emily shook her head. “You’re crazy.” She looked up at him and her voice for the first time since he had entered was strong. “I don’t belong to anyone but myself.”
“Such sweet defiance,” He moved closer to her until he knelt mere inches away from where she huddled in front of Lucky. “Such pure innocence. Such beauty. I used to see your picture in the magazines when I lived on the streets and I used to dream about owning you even then. I shall have to tell my uncle that I am extremely grateful for the chance to make my dream come true.” His breath was hot and stomach churning and Emily winced. “ Or maybe I will let him have you first. My uncle can be as cruel a man in bed as he is with his army in the field. A week or as my uncle’s punching bag and you will be begging me to make you my mistress and offer you my protection.”
Emily pushed back against Lucky’s still prone form. “What about him?” She seized on Lucky’s presence in the cell as a distraction while her mind raced to find some way out of this.
No matter what it took, she was going to stay alive until Jagger could rescue her, but that didn’t mean she wanted to be brutally raped while she was waiting. Not if she could avoid it.
“Him?” Momentarily distracted from Emily, his gaze barely flickered over Lucky.
“He doesn’t count.” Dimitri dismissed Lucky casually. “I don’t even know who he is.”
“You what? What kind of sick bastard are you to hold someone prisoner who you don’t even know?”
“And here I thought we had already established exactly what kind of sick bastard I am.” Dimitri grinned. “As for him,” Dimitri’s mouth turned down distastefully, “he has proven to have some value as entertainment for my uncle and his men. And considering that he was a gift from my father, I guess you can call me a sentimental fool but I hold onto him.”
“Your father?”
Dimitri nodded. “Funny isn’t it? You spend all your life waiting for your father to acknowledge you, to come and rescue you from the hellhole you’re living in. And when you no longer need him, when you no longer give a damn about him, a present from him arrives for you. A toy for you to play with or throw away if you so desire. No note. No birthday card. Just the toy.” A pause. “I suppose the smart thing would have been to destroy whoever the pitiful creature is, but as he is the only thing of my father’s I own…. I have kept him. Although he has been a handful of trouble. Having to feed him. Although he eats what the dogs eat so that makes things easier. And like I said, torturing him has been entertaining.”
Emily backed as far away as she could. “You’re not human.”
“You know they used to say that about my father I hear.” Dimitri paused. “Maybe you have heard of him? His name was Faison. Cesear Faison.” A heartbeat. “Enough about the boy. Like I said he doesn’t count. I am far more interested in you.”
Emily’s mind went momentarily blank as she tried to cope with what the monster in front of her was saying. His eyes burning, Dimitri stepped over Lucky’s form and grabbed Emily, his mouth leeching onto her breast through her clothes even as she tried to push him away.
Emily felt his hands pushing against her bones as he held her tight and she knew in that instant that she wasn’t going to be able to stop him no matter how hard she tried to fight him.
I’m sorry Jagger she whispered silently as she closed her eyes to block out what she knew was going to come next.
But what came next was not what she expected as she felt herself being pushed to the side as a figure stepped between her and Dimitri and she could see through the faint light the piece of jagged glass the figure held pressed against Dimitri’s neck.
The voice was far stronger than it had been a few minutes ago.
“Don’t ever count a Spencer out,” The words were said in a deadly whisper as Lucky pushed the sharp glass into Dimitri’s skin and watched the blood dribble down.
