Emily Quartermaine shivered slightly as she sat quietly on the bed, a ziplock bag of melted ice on the bed next to her.

It had been three hours since Sarah had left, three hours of having to sit while HE watched her, his gun casually in his hand.

Emily wasn’t fooled. This guy looked like he would welcome the chance to kill her.

Jagger Cates. She’d spent the last hour or so mentally reviewing what she knew about Jagger Cates, what she had remembered or what she had been told. It wasn’t much. He was Stone’s brother. Once upon a time he and Jason had been rivals for a girl in high school. He’d left town years before.

She wished he had stayed away.

Or that she had. One or the other would do.

Her head pounded from where HE had knocked her out, she felt dizzy and had the sinking suspicion that only the fact that she hadn’t really eaten in the last 24 hours was keeping her from vomiting.

She was sick. All she wanted was to be back at the mansion, cuddled up in her goose down comforter with Reginald waiting on her. But that was just a pipe dream.

She shivered again. Damn this hotel room was cold. She was almost glad that Sarah had taken Michael with her when she left. A place like this was no place for a child. It was, truth to tell, no place for anything human.

Except maybe HIM.

They hadn’t spoken since Sarah had left. He had been noncommittal when Sarah had charged him with making sure that she was okay.

Emily didn’t even want to know what his definition of okay was. Probably something along the lines of “as long as she’s breathing what else matters.”

She shivered again despite her best attempts not to.

Jagger leaned the chair back so it tilted against the wall, his eyes supposedly focused on a crack in the ceiling but his every nerve intensely aware of her.

She was hurting. He could tell by the painful shadows in her eyes and the painful grimaces she was trying to hide.

How hard had he hit her?

Hard enough apparently.

Damn she was silent. Too silent. He was used to women who would have been screaming and yelling at him by now. Sarah would have threatened to tear him apart. Even Karen would have calling him every name in the book if he had knocked her out and tied her up.

He was really beginning to hate her silence. He took a good look at her from underneath hooded eyes, she was younger than he had first thought. And with that realization came another, she was far more vulnerable than she pretended to be. Jagger’s life these last few years had often depended on his ability to read people. That same ability told him that the tough shell she was presenting was nothing more than a facade.

Somebody had hurt her. Oh yeah he had, but all he had done was physically hurt her. Somebody else had hurt her a lot deeper. He wondered if that was the reason why she had tried to kill herself.

Then he wondered why he was wondering.

He shook his head and watched as she shivered again.

“You’re cold,” he said bluntly standing.

She didn’t look up. “It’s cold in here.”

He said nothing but turned to the thermostat in the corner of the room. “It should heat up.”

She didn’t say anything and Jagger wondered why her lack of response irritated him so. “Do you need a blanket?” he found himself asking.

She finally looked up, surprise in her brown eyes. Huge brown eyes. He could see why the camera loved her. She frowned. “I’m okay.”

“I’d let you go to sleep, but that’s not good for head injuries. Sometimes with a head injury the patient goes to sleep and never wakes up.”

“Right. We wouldn’t want you to be responsible for actually killing me.”

“Forget it,” Jagger muttered as he walked back over to his chair.

“No wait....” He watched as she bit her lip, obviously biting back whatever else she wanted to say also. “Where did Sarah take Michael?”

“Someplace out of the line of fire. The Consortium doesn’t believe in hurting innocent children.”

“I think I’d be more willing to believe you if I didn’t have a bruise the size of Manhattan and the color of midnight on the side of my head.”

Jagger smiled and tentatively she returned the smile and then it faltered as a wave of pain hit her. He watched as tears flooded her eyes.

He found himself moving to her side. “Lie down.”

“But you just said...”

“Lie down. Your head will feel better if you are lying down. I’ll make sure you don’t fall asleep.”

“Are you always this kind to your victims?”

“Most of my victims are dead.”

“Oh.” Gingerly she slipped underneath the blankets. One hand remained outside the blanket and he picked it up, his thumb tracing the scar on her wrist.

“There’s a matching one on the other hand if you are interested?” Emily said flatly, pulling away.

“Why?”

“Why what? Why did I try to kill myself? Read the tabloids its not exactly a secret.”

“No. Why did you fail?”

Emily shrugged. “An old friend checked on me. He took me to the hospital.” She could have added and has barely spoken to me since, but didn’t.

“I don’t think you meant to succeed.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“Granted. But you don’t strike me as a coward. Confused maybe but not a coward.”

“Funny, I’m not feeling very brave right now.” She closed her eyes, the warmth that was now present in the room was comforting and making her sleepy. She remembered what he said about head injuries and forced herself to stay awake.

“Tell me about the Quartermaines.”

“Why? Are they next on your little hit list?”

“Have they made any deals to go into business with internationally wanted war criminals?”

“Touché. I forget that you and Sarah are hired killers for the good guys.”

Jagger shook his head. “There are no good guys anymore. Just evil and slightly less so.”

“Then why? Never mind, forget I asked.”

There is silence for a moment, Jagger noticing with a growing concern the paling of her skin even as he resists the urge to wipe a tear that was escaping from the corner of her eye. What the hell was wrong with him?

“She won’t kill me you know. I mean I know you probably will, but she won’t.”

“Why not?”

“That’s easy. Because of her grandfather. Steve Hardy was a good guy you know, one of the best. Sarah is his granddaughter. That has to mean something.”

There is silence for a while.

“You think I’m being foolish.”

“Not foolish. Maybe optimistic.”

Emily expelled a sigh. “I’d rather spend the next few hours waiting for you guys to kill me being optimistic and foolish than cold and merciless.”

Jagger finds he has nothing to say to that and the silence descends between them once more.

The Boxcar

Sarah walked through the woods surrounding the abandoned boxcar cautiously. It was still light, but not for much longer and the shadows criss crossing the area worked to her purpose, helping her blend in.

She’d told Morgan to come alone.

That didn’t mean she expected him too.

She carefully unlocked the safety on her automatic pistol. She’d rather have Morgan alive and cooperative, but she’d settle for dead and out of the way if she had to.

She picked up the thermal scanner out of her belt and clicked it on. She nodded as she swung it around in a circle. One source of heat large enough to be a person in a five hundred yard radius.

It gave her enough space to work in. She clicked the scanner off and moved forward.

It was the first time since the wedding that she had gotten a good look at Jason Morgan. She could see what attracted women to him, although she supposed if she had to think rationally about it Jagger was the better looking of the two. Still there was an aura of danger about Morgan that would fascinate some women.

But not her.

She stepped forward out of the shadows completely.

“Mr. Morgan.” Her voice was cool and professional. Immediately Jason pulled a gun and Sarah sighed. “I would put that down if I were you.”

“Give me a good reason why.”

Sarah pulled a small microrecorder out of her pocket. “Try this.” She pushed the button and a moment later Michael’s voice, chattering about this and that as Sarah drove him to the safe house, filled the air. A muscle clenched in Jason’s jaw and a cold look of absolute fury filled his eyes.

“Where is my son?”

Sarah looked perplexed. “He’s not your son, is he? He belongs to AJ. But you don’t have to worry about that, do you? Your little plan took care of him.”

“You have no clue what you are talking about.”

“No. Probably not. I only kill strangers. I draw the line at murdering my relatives.”

“Who the hell are you and what do you want?”

“What I want Mr. Morgan is your cooperation. Your total and complete cooperation. If I say jump, you say how high? Nor arguments. No explanations. You will do exactly what I say and only what I say.”

“And if I don’t? If I decide to blow you to hell right now.”

“You don’t scare me. Mr. Morgan. I told you that at the church. As for blowing me to hell, I’ve been there. I’ve even seen the devil himself. I can name him. I imagine some day I’ll end up back there, but not for a long time.” Sarah paused nonchalantly. “If anything happens to me, the people holding your child have instructions to lose him. Michael will be given a new name, new parents, a new home, even new fingerprints. There will be no way for you to find him. He’ll be just an average kid growing up in an average house. Personally, I hope you do pull something because I like the idea of your kid growing up in a normal household where he doesn’t have to worry about strange men breaking into his house and killing his mother right before his eyes.”

“Michael was there....”

“We both were. The man who killed your wife is dead.”

“Who was he?”

“Are you always so full of questions Mr. Morgan?”

Jason looked into her blue eyes and shook his head. He couldn’t believe that any of this was happening. He’d had a fantasy or two about the blond he encountered at Liz’s wedding, but in all of the scenarios where they met again none of them played out like this.

“I’m not doing anything you say until I get some answers. Like who the hell you are and who sent you.”

Sarah sighed. “If you insist. Actually we’ve met before, through your former girl friend Robin Scorpio back when she was trying to steal my boyfriend Nikolas Cassadine. Or at least I thought she was. It was a lifetime ago and I’m doing my best to forget it.”

He looked at her as she continued. “I know what you’re thinking. Nikolas was a creep and definitely not worthy of my attention.” She sighed casually. “Don’t we all do things in high school we spend the rest of our lives trying to forget? Wait a minute, lucky you, you did forget didn’t you?”

“Sarah?”

“Webber. Good job. You just might be useful after all.” She shrugged. “I’m glad. I would have hated wasting a day or so trying to convince my bosses to give me permission to kill you.”

“Permission? Kill?”

Sarah smiled, a smile that didn’t come anywhere near her eyes. “Here let me make it clear to you. Crystal clear. My name is Sarah Webber. Yes you know my sister Liz but don’t make the mistake of thinking we are anything alike. We never have been. And lately, well our lives have taken different paths. She’s an artist but you know that, I saw some of her work hanging in your penthouse. Me...I’m a professional killer. And please don’t make the mistake of thinking because I’m young and a female that I’m not good at what I do. You’d be wrong. I’m one of the best there is. For example, if I wanted you to be dead you’d be dead. And the fact that the woods are heavily infiltrated with your men and that you’ve been wearing a wire since we met wouldn’t make a difference.”

Sarah reached up under his shirt and pulled the wire with one hand, the other stopped his hand from going to the panic button in his pocket. “Like I said, IF I wanted you dead you would be dead. I don’t so you aren’t.”

“Who are you working for? Moreno? The WSB?”

Sarah laughed. “Your world is definitely limited, isn’t it Morgan? Let’s see how connected you are.”

She turned her hand towards him so that he saw the ring on her hand.

Jason paled. “What do you want?”

“I told you. Your complete and total cooperation. You Mr. Morgan are going to help me kill the devil himself.”