[Meantime, the unsuspecting mob boss in Port Charles has no idea that the WSB is on his track and danger lurks around the corner...]
On Spoon Island, Stefan cannot rid his mind of the notion that he had seen Robert Scorpio. But surely, it couldn't be? "Scorpio is dead,", he thought, "killed with his wife, Anna Devane, in that explosion in the Pacific... If he's alive...", Stefan mused, "Scorpio is dangerous."
He decided to check on the peculiar looking couple he had seen the day before. He realized it was a mistake to have challenged them, to blurt out that threat of exposure, but the shock of seeing the resemblance to Robert Scorpio had thrown him off guard.
"There's no way off this island", he thought, as he headed for the place where he had seen them. Just then, one of his staff ran up to tell him that Nikolas had been missing for several hours and all thought of the odd couple on Spoon Island fled from his mind.
Meantime, the PICs were busy. Their first priority, to get Robert and Anna to the Catacombs, was accomplished very easily. Martin's family kept a yacht at the docks and it was a simple thing to cruise around the island in their motor launch and pick them up. The rendezvous was arranged by radio link with Robert.
Once in the Catacombs, Robert, Anna and a team of PICs moved with speed to set up the living quarters, the two chambers with their *comfy* beds, a dining area near the food storage lockers where there was an AGA (oil burning) stove and a microwave. They opened the storage areas Robert showed them and pulled out carpets, uncovered the most incredible furniture, lamps, everything, even a pin-ball machine.
There were tapestry hangings to cover the stone walls and these were hung on the hooks that were already in place. Clearly, this space had been used for a celebrity hide-out before. There was nothing missing and, within two hours, it was transformed, ready for a long occupation.
When everything was done, Robert and Anna headed for the showers (yes, there is a magnificent bathroom, complete with showers, tub, Jacuzzi, everything! There's even a small gym.) Their disguises removed, and dressed comfortably in their own clothes, they thanked the PICs for their incredible assistance. They asked them to wait until Jax and Brenda arrived with the others, when they would explain as much as possible to everyone.
Over in Port Charles, another PIC team was hard at work. While Brenda was out, Jax packed everything he thought they both might need for at least two weeks. The bags were picked up already.
The moment Brenda walked in, Jax came to her. "Brenda, I've just had word from a very old friend and colleague. He will only be in Port Charles for a short while. I need to meet him and he wants to meet you. Could you come right away? Please love? I've got the limo waiting in the garage."
Brenda, with tired aching feet from an all-day photo shoot, wanted only to take her shoes off and relax. However, looking at his pleading eyes, she realized it was important.
"O.K.", she said. "Let's go, but first let me change my shoes. My feet are killing me!"
Down in the garage, wearing a chauffeur's cap, Elizabeth was waiting behind the wheel of the darkened limousine. As soon as Jax and Brenda got in, she drove to the far end of the garage, stopped, pulled a ski-mask over her face, pulled out a very lethal looking weapon and opened the door of the limo.
"Out!", she said, pointing the 'gun' at them (It was really a very authentic looking stage prop. Elizabeth hates guns.)
Brenda yelped and jumped into Jax's ready arms. As she started to protest, Jax held her close, hand over her mouth, he whispered, "Quiet! Please, Brenda not a word! Lives may depend on how we react. Let's do what they want"
The limo had pulled up right beside a laundry van. Keeping them covered, Elizabeth reached for the van door and opened it. Waving the 'gun', to urge them forward, "In!", she said.
Jax lifted Brenda and stepped into the van, holding her tight in his arms. "Not a word", he whispered again, as the van drove away. Struggling in Jax's arms, Brenda started to protest.
"Brenda, sweetheart, don't", and he kissed her. "We are not in danger. This is necessary. We are in no danger, but my friend is."
"What's going on? Jax, tell me we are not being kidnaped?"
"No, Brenda, we are not. But in case anyone was watching, it certainly must look as if we are. Do you trust me?"
"Of course I trust you Jax, with my life."
"Then, won't you trust me for about a half hour, without question, and I promise that you will understand all of this?"
As she began to protest again, he covered her lips with his.
"Please, Bren, not now, please trust me", pulling her closer, and kissing her again.
Brenda, realizing that Jax is not worried, relaxed in his arms as he continued to kiss her in a most thorough and distracting fashion.
About ten minutes later, the van pulled up beside a wooded area, near a large rocky outcropping. The door opened from the outside and two PICs, wearing dark sweat suits, headbands and NIKEs signal to them.
"Quick. We've got to move quickly."
They ran towards the outcrop, looking back to make sure Jax and Brenda were with them. Jax, with Brenda in his arms, hers tight around his neck, was right behind them. As soon as they moved around the rock, the van, which was covering their exit, sped right off.
A little while later, inside the Catacombs....
News Bulletin: Dateline, September 9.
At around 4:00 a.m. this morning, a heavy, slow-moving Cessna took off from Columbia, heading north. Authorities believed the aircraft was carrying modified fuel tanks for a long haul on a suspected drug run. From the moment it left the ground in Columbia, the craft was shadowed by an American surveillance plane.
A police alert has been in effect all day along the eastern seaboard of the United States. By early afternoon, the Cessna was north of the Canadian border and moving inland. The Royal Canadian Mounted Police, air surveillance and ground forces, had joined the hunt. The Cessna was actually under surveillance during the entire trip.
At around 4:00 p.m., the Cessna was in a descending flight path to land on a dirt airstrip in a farmer's field in the remote region of Abitibi, in northern Quebec, Canada. Suddenly, it lifted, swung out over dense bushland and dumped its cargo. About twenty bales were seen to fall.
By late evening, the combined local police and the RCMP had rounded up three suspects and salvaged 15 of the downed bales. They salvaged a cocaine haul with a street value of over $15 million. By midnight, several suspects were still on the loose, but were expected to be in custody within hours.
Back in Port Charles, reporters looking for a reaction from Police Commissioner Mac Scorpio on the possibility of a local connection, found he is out on Lake Ontario on a case and remains unavailable.
When asked if the local crime lord was suspected of being in any way connected with the drug flight that was foiled in Canada by the combined American-Canadian team effort, Detective Garcia had a tight-lipped "No Comment."
In answer to the same question, Assistant DA Dara Jensen also had "No comment". She
would not rule out the possibility of a local connection, saying "anything is possible", but
added that the situation that terminated in Canada did appear to be connected with
Canadian biker gangs.
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