Chapter 1: Getting There
Port Charles
August, 2004
Agent Michael Vaughn fixed up his tie as he entered the Grille. He was one of the best in the CIA, even though no one knew it; Vaughn had just finished up a case in Romania and came to Port Charles for some last minute information before heading out. He made his way near the bar, waving to the bartender to fix him up a light scotch.
“Excuse me,” he said as he bumped shoulders with the woman nearby. He looked at the ground and noticed she had dropped a few papers and a card. Bending down he picked up the papers and read the card, “Alexis Davis, Attorney-at-Law.”
Alexis took the papers in his hand and returned them to her suitcase but noticed that he kept the card in his grasp. “I’ve heard of you,” Vaughn glanced up from the card, “You’re quite an attorney.”
“Last time I checked, I certainly was.” Alexis gave half a smile. “You seem to be familiar with my name.”
“And you seem surprised.” Vaughn noticed, taking a sip from the scotch that was laid out for him.
Alexis shifted around on her seat to face the man. “Well, most of the time people who know my name usually require legal attention. You wouldn’t by any chance happen to infringe the first amendment?”
“Nah. That’s my favorite one,” he joked, drinking the last drops of his scotch and pulling out a twenty from his pocket and sliding it towards the bartender. “Keep the change.”
“I’m meeting a client here,” Alexis informed, “Are you him? Christopher Stamp?”
Vaughn shook his head. “Sorry to disappoint you, but no. I’m—Mick. And I don’t need any legal attention. But don’t worry if I do, I know where to call you,” he grinned, holding up her card before descending it into his pocket. “Nice meeting you, Ms. Davis.”
Alexis’s curiosity of the man slowly faded as he exited the restaurant. Vaughn took one last glance around the booths, searching for Cannes. Finding no luck he went out to the parking lot.
“Ahem.” Cannes cleared his throat, causing Vaughn to turn around. He saw Cannes standing next to his car; Cannes was his new partner, around his late twenties, trying to make his way up the CIA.
“You’re late.” He sighed as they got into the car and road off.
“I was talking to the chief of Military Intelligence. Apparently, a Russian ship with wide loads of excess, cocaine, and acid has been sent off. I’m not sure to which destination, though,” Cannes informed, keeping his eyes on the road.
“Any idea who sent it?” Michael began to fiddle around the glove compartment searching for a pen.
“Specifically, we’re not sure yet. But there’s a possibility the ship belongs to one of the people that you’ve made arrangements for.”
“Speaking of arrangements.” He remembered. “Are they all in place?” Vaughn asked.
“Just as you want it,” Cannes said. “Your essentials are packed in your suitcase, including everything you need to know about the suspects: background, profiles, liaisons, etc. I’ll contact you with day to day updates. ”
“Good.” Vaughn nodded. He was a difficult man to understand; he took the difficult approach to things instead of looking for an easy way out. “And keep this news quiet. Make sure that the FBI nor the entire league of Military Intelligence are aware of this, until I find further evidence.”
Cannes nodded his head in comprehension. “When does your flight leave?”
“In about--,” Vaughn looked at his digital watch, which could easily be transformed into a device that could break any security code within the Northern Hemisphere. “One hour. I have to get to Corrie Island by 4:00, so I suggest you step on it.”
Corrie Island
“Mom, are we lost?” Michael Morgan Quartermaine asked clumsily as he sat up on the back trunk of the limousine with Leticia next to him, while the driver pumped gas. He watched his mother’s eyes stroll anxiously around the map of Corrie Island, a huge chunk of land a few watering acres away from Liberty and Ellis Islands. The day was windy, making nearby trees hurl against eachother.
“Honey, I told you we’re not lost. We just don’t know where we are,” Carly explained to her son, standing a few inches away from him, looking at the road map with a clueless stare.
They had been traveling for hours around Corrie Island, trying to find the Sullivan Manor. “Oh shit.” Carly murmured softly hoping that Michael didn’t here.
“Something wrong, Mommy?” Michael asked, kicking his feet lightly against the headlights.
“No. It’s just that you would think your Uncle Jason invited us to this place and didn’t give any directions.”
Carly cursed as she irritatingly folded up the map. She was beginning to regret taking Jason’s offer on going on a vacation. He had suggested it after Carly and Sonny finalized their divorce, thinking it would take her mind off things.
“So we are lost,” Michael heaved a sigh.
“What did I just tell you?” Carly glanced up swiftly from the map.
“That we’re not lost, that we just don’t know where we are,” Michael said dully.
“Exactly there’s a difference.” Carly looked past Michael and Leticia and noticed a clerk cleaning the side of the gas station. “Excuse me, mister.”
Putting his broom aside, the clerk looked up at the blonde. “Yes?”
“Could you tell me where I could find Sullivan Manor?” Carly asked walking up to him and trying to keep the map steadily on her hand while as the wind exceeded.
“Just go straight ahead, ma’am.” The clerk pointed towards the road. “It should be there within a few miles. You can’t miss it. It’s one hell of a fancy inn.”
“Thank you.” Carly said turning around and walking back to the limo.
“And ma’am,” the employee began, causing Carly to turn back around, “I just wanna let you know, that you should be careful.” Carly looked at the man curiously, her mind questioning what he meant. But instead of leading to inquiries she simply nodded her head and told the driver to get the engine started.
Corrie Island
Sullivan Manor
“Excuse me,” Gia said to the concierge on the front desk, “We have a reservation,” she said nudging to the handsome man next to her.
“Of course.” The concierge said in his British accent. He flattened his suit, making sure he looked perceptible and classy. “Let me find the guest list,” he said, excusing himself to another room.
Gia looked back at the man, who smiled down at her with a lollipop on his mouth like a six year old child. There was a part of her that dreaded coming to Sullivan Manor; mainly because she didn’t want to be reminded of Wyndamere. But looking around, she realized Sullivan was nothing like the dark, gauche, gargoyle-headed mansion. It was an alluring, first class hotel with picturesque nineteenth century furniture and lights everywhere.
“Very well.” The concierge returned with a black book. “Name?”
“Leo du Pres and Gia Camp—I mean Gia---,” she stammered.
“du Pres.” Leo finished for his wife, putting an arm around her shoulder. “Mr. and Mrs. du Pres.”
The man looked around the book, and nodded. “Ah, yes. The newlyweds. You’re guests of Mr. Hank and Mrs. Florence Gannon. They have not arrived yet, but they have sent a message for you,” he said handing Gia an envelope.” He rang the bell on the counter and an uniformed bellboy appeared immediately, taking their bags. “You have flat number 32.”
“Thanks.” Gia said pushing her husband’s hand off and following the bellboy. Leo was right behind her.
“That was very smooth,” Leo whispered mordantly in her ear.
“Shut up, alright. So I forgot about the last name,” she muttered. As they got into the elevator, Gia saw a familiar face in the lobby. The bellboy landed their baggage inside and pressed a button.
“What is it?” Leo asked at her expression.
“That man,” she pointed towards a cleaning man, dusting the tables.
“Yeah. So. What about him?”
“Nothing.” Gia shook her head as the elevator closed in. “It’s just that he looks like the Quartermaine’s butler.”
Sullivan Manor
Room 29
“Would you just look that this place?” Elizabeth piped excitedly as she opened the door to the patio and looked out at the view of the evergreen grass covering miles of territory.
“Yeah it’s really something.” Zander said from the bedroom.
Liz jumped towards him next to the bed. “We should go see the beach, I here its beautiful this time of year. And maybe we can also go horseback-riding.”
“Sure.” Zander nodded, looking at her.
“What’s wrong?” Elizabeth asked, noticing that Zander didn’t seem so enthusiastic about this trip. “You don’t like it?”
“It’s not that. But, isn’t this too much?” He asked, looking around the elegant Hotel room.
“Oh no. The art dealer said he’d take care of all the expenses,” she reassured.
“Really? A guy who hasn’t even bought your work yet is willing to pay for your traveling luxuries.”
Liz shrugged. “I think he was just being polite. He’s supposed to be a big-time dealer from Europe, and he won’t be on the island until sometime this week. Besides, this a chance I’ve been waiting for,” she said taking his hand, “I mean just the thought of someone discovering my art…” Elizabeth wasn’t even aware that anyone was paying attention to her work, much less wanting to buy it; but she jumped at the opportunity, thinking what the hell, it was the only spark of good news she had in awhile.
Zander’s curiosity didn’t dissolve, but for the time being he pushed it aside. “I know. And you’re going to be great. I’m sure of it.”
Elizabeth smiled. “This is exactly why I have you here.”
“Moral support or pleasure?” He grinned.
“Why not both?” She said in a sly tone before pulling him into an eager kiss; she pulled back much to Zander’s dismay. “So how did Luke feel when he said you needed time off?”
Zander cringed at the thought of Luke. He wasn’t sure either to hate the guy or think of him as an inspiration. Either way he was now working for Luke in his club. The pay was lousy, but that was one exceptional thing about dating Elizabeth. She was never greedy, not when it came to money and expenses at least. “Not much. Except he’ll be charging me more time, when I get back. I don’t think he minded too much. I think the man had too much on his mind.”
“Laura.” Elizabeth nodded. “Ever since she left him, he hasn’t been himself.”
“And that’s suppose to be a bad thing?” Zander arched a brow.
Liz shrugged again. “Why don’t you go get ready? I’m dying to explore this place.”
“Yeah. I need to take a shower.” He stood up and grabbed a towel from the dresser. Zander walked towards the bathroom door, but turned around with a grin on his face. “I wouldn’t mind having company?”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Your full or yourself, Mr. Smith,” she said, shoving him inside the bathroom.
Sullivan Manor
Room 32
“Well this beats the Holiday Inn, anyday,” Leo said, making his way out of the celestial living room and into the bedroom where he saw his wife unpacking. “Have you decided what your gonna wear for the honey moon yet?”
Gia sighed and closed up her suitcase before opening another one. “Would you quit joking about everything?”
“Alright.” Leo held up his hands as he gave his pillow a good fluff before flopping himself on the bed. “One mention of your mother’s name and your sense of humor is down the drain.”
“And I suppose yours wouldn’t be?” Gia beamed, remembering what Leo had told her about his mother.
“Touché.” Leo frowned.
“Sorry,” Gia said, taking her last comment into consideration, “I know you hate to think about your mother.”
“I don’t really give a damn about Vanessa anymore. She’s probably sucking up tranquilizer in a looney bin as we speak.”
“From what you’ve said about her, its sounds like a gift for man-kind.” Gia took out a few clothes and put them in inside the dresser.
“Well from the way you described Mommy Flo, this doesn’t really seem like her place.”
“Yeah. My mom’s kinda down to earth. Her new husband must be an influence to her.”
“Too bad you can’t say the same.”
“You remember the plan?” Gia asked, ignoring Leo’s smirk.
“How can I forget? You’ve been nagging me about it all week. Relax, its stuck on my head: charm Mommy Dearest into believing we’re a happily married item. All for what Gia?”
“So she can finally leave me alone. Or better yet leave my life alone!”
“And she thinks getting married is going to solve that?”
“No. She and my brother tried to break up my ex-boyfriend and me. Which was unnecessary, considering the fact that we broke up anyway.”
“She didn’t even like the thought of you marrying a prince. How should marrying me be a load off?”
Gia bounded on the bed and grabbed his chin. “That’s why you have to charm her into believing that you’re a sweet gentlemen who cares about me instead of a loser who I ended up marrying because I was drunk out of my mind.” She said, remembering their wedding night in a cheesy chapel in New York City. They had met in a tacky bar, where they both had one too many drinks. She woke up the next morning in bed with him and a ring on her finger. The one good thing about being with Leo was that he was easy to be around. There was a certain charm in his personality that made her feel at ease with him. He was easy to talk to and knew how to make someone laugh.
Leo pulled her hand aside and smirked, “It takes two to tango, Braids. And two to tie the knot.” He remembered waking up from a vast hangover, a married man. That was the only other time they were in the same bed together. They met occasionally to talk their secret transaction. It was hardly married life. But he didn’t mind the thought of Gia being his wife; the way he looked at it, she was fun to be with and wasn’t either a good or bad person.
“Look Leo, you owe me. You wouldn’t have gotten that editorial job in Variety Magazine if it wasn’t for me. Now just play Mr. Wonderful for my mother, and we can get an annulment and end this charade. Then you can roam back to Pine Valley and find Greenelee.”
Leo’s face turned cold at the sound of the woman’s name. “Why bother? She already ran off with Dr. Jake Martin,” he said, a hint of jealousy in his voice.
“I’m sorry.” Gia touched his hand with hers. “I know you really loved her.”
“Yeah. And the pitiful part is, I’ll never stop. I’m probably better off without her,” he lied, “Just like your better off without that lame excuse for a prince.” He sighed, and realized mentioning Nikolas had made her face gloomy. “Well let’s forget about that.” He sat up. “Just what am I supposed to say to your mother? Ms. Campbell—or Gannon. Your daughter’s smart, beautiful, a great one night stand…”
“Leo!” Gia hit him hard on the arm.
“Just kidding,” Leo said, rubbing his arm. “Err….what else?”
“Kind.” Gia thought.
Leo gave a flabbergasted look. “Okay. Let’s try again. Your daughter’s smart, beautiful…”
“Hey, allot of people happen to think I’m kind,” Gia gritted through her teeth.
“You’d be surprised what people will say when they’re drunk.” Leo ducked as Gia came on to him aggressively with a pillow.
Pine Valley Police Department
Anna Devanne-Hayward looked confusedly at the files piled on her desk. She could automatically tell it was going to be a long day.
“Excuse me chief,” a detective knocked on the door, and peeped his head out, “You have an urgent call on line two.”
“I’m not taking calls right now,” Anna said, not bothering to remove her eyes from the file she was reading.
“He said it was urgent.”
“Does ‘he’ have a name?” Anna asked in an annoyed tone.
“He wouldn’t tell me. Just said something about SD6.”
This got Anna’s immediate attention. She hurriedly grabbed her phone and dismissed the detective. “What’s wrong, Vaughn?”
“So much for the small talk,” Michael said sarcastically on the other line. “I have an order for you, Devanne. Or should I say Hayward?”
“Call me whatever you please, just skip to the point,” Anna said directly. She was always apprehensive whenever Vaughn called, which wasn’t frequent. She had worked with him on an assignment once during her days in the CIA. No doubt that he was a good agent, but he had the tendency to give bad news to her.
“Candid as always, Anna,” he said subtly. “I need you to get your husband, Dr. Hayward in Corrie Island by tomorrow.”
“Speak of the devil,” she garbled. “Why? What do you want with David?”
“That’s not up for discussion.”
“Well you see, Vaughn, when its my husband, it is. David has his shares of misdeeds, but what has he done that-.”
Vaughn cut her off. “It’s not up for discussion,” he repeated more enthusiastically. “Trust me. You can either swindle him into coming here or I’ll have someone drag him down. Take your pick.”
Anna sighed and leaned back, trying to think things threw. He knew Vaughn wouldn’t expose a word of information, he preferred disclosure, and if he had to he would resort to violence without even blinking. A number of questions came threw her mind. The number one question being: What did he do this time? Her job had always given her a headache, but David managed to give her a migraine. He was proof that you can’t help who you fall in love with. “What’s your location?”
“I don’t know,” Vaughn said, looking out the window of the plane he was in.
Anna felt stupid for asking him that question. She folded her fingers around her face, “What do you want with him?”
“Why are you wasting your breath on questions you know I won’t answer?”
“Okay. But if David goes, I’m coming along as well.”
“That’s fine. He might need you there. By tomorrow, I expect you and Dr. Hayward to be at the Sullivan Manor on Corrie Island. You won’t mention a word of this phone call to anyone, including Hayward. And when you get there, don’t forget…you don’t know me.” He hung up before Anna could say more.
At the sound of the dial tone, Anna hung up the phone and groaned raucously. “Just when you thought your day couldn’t get any worse.”