Having undressed his sleeping wife and slipped into bed beside her, Jax found himself unable to sleep. With the lights out, a series of built in emergency lights came on and bathed the chamber in a soft glow. Similar "night" lights were strategically placed throughout the entire secret complex. These were essential to compensate for the total lack of daylight. The dim, shadowy ambiance where objects were no more than dark outlines, reminded him of winter twilight in northern Alaska. The only difference was that here in the Port Charles Catacombs, the Northern Lights were certainly not part of the scene.
He could feel the warmth of his wife's body as she lay snug against his side, deeply asleep. He inhaled the distinctive smell of her which always touched his senses. Her perfume, Worth's, "Je Reviens!", was so appropriate! "Je Reviens!": "I shall come back!" A wave of tenderness swept through him, sparking an overwhelming desire to take her in his arms and love her until their twin souls merged.
"Not now," he thought. "She must be terribly tired to have fallen so deeply asleep and yesterday was quite a shock. Would have been for anybody!" He let himself relive the hours of the evening just passed, remembering the welcome weight of her body lying back against him, her breathing synchronized with his. He savored again the sheer rightness and contentment he had felt as she lay sleeping within the circle of his arms during the hours of discussion with Robert and Anna.
In the dim light, as he thought of the reasons they were in the Catacombs and the job ahead, his eyes fell on the table near the fireplace. He realized he had left his notes there from his technical talks with Robert, along with documentation on the new equipment in the hidden "war-room". Sleep eluded him, so perhaps it would be a good idea to look over those papers now. Tomorrow was his last day to clear up any questions with Robert and Anna.
No sooner thought than done - he eased himself away from the sleeping Brenda and went to retrieve the documents. He attached a small, but powerful, reading light to a clipboard, piled a couple of extra pillows on his side of the bed and quickly settled down to study the material, making sure to focus the light away from his wife.
Soon he was engrossed in the fascinating details, the functionality, use and purpose of devices that were generally thought to be years in the future, but here they were and he would be using them in the days ahead. "The speed of technological evolution boggles the mind," he thought.
He'd been reading and absorbing the information for quite some time when he realized his wife was restless and mumbling in her sleep, reaching for him. He put his hand on her head, touched her cheek, reassuring her: "It's OK sweetheart. Just sleep."
In short order, Brenda had snuggled up against him again, this time on his side of the bed. Her arm across his waist, her cheek against his side, she dropped a light kiss on his torso, whispered "Jax", sighed, snuggled closer still, and continued to sleep soundly. He pulled her close to him, kissed her lightly, arranged the soft duvet over her shoulders and whispered, "Sleep sweetheart. I'm right here beside you. Just sleep."
Keeping her close, maintaining the contact she so obviously needed, he continued to study the documents and the notes for several more hours. Finally, exhausted, he dropped the papers on the bed, turned off the reading light, pushed the pillows aside, and slipped down under the covers beside his wife. She turned into his embrace so naturally, so simply, that he felt a surge of passion sweep through him which he controlled with great effort. He gathered her in his arms, kissed her softly, and soon they were both traveling the world of dreams together.
Early next morning, Jax was sleeping peacefully. Beside him, Brenda, leaning on her elbow, chin propped on her arm, studied his sleeping form. He lay on his back, arms outstretched.
Casually, she leant forward and touched his lips with a deep lingering kiss. He moved slightly, and reaching for her, pulled her possessively close. He was clearly sound asleep. Seeing the papers on the bed, she realized he must have been reading for hours and decided not to wake him. She was a prisoner in his arms. "Loving arms," she thought. "My husband!"
Brenda closed her eyes and let her mind wander back to the early days when she first met this man who loved her to distraction. She thought of his strength, his passion, his joy and her own when they were together, and she realized she loved him so much more than she realized it was possible for anyone to love another human being.
Soon she would have to tell him how much he meant to her and she knew it would be a gift from the heart - from her heart to his, a gift for all time in return for the gift of his love and devotion to her for so very long. "How patient he has been with me," she thought, "so much more than I deserve."
She closed her eyes, exhilarated in the feeling of her body close to his, and willed her husband to know in his sleeping heart how much he meant to her, how much she loved him. As she waited for him to wake from exhausted sleep, she thought, "I hope he doesn't have to work so hard while we're here. I'll have to do what I can to help. I want him to have time for us."
It was another hour before Jax began to stir into wakefulness. By then, Brenda was in a floating drowsy state, induced by the proximity of her husband, the touch of their bodies together, and the dream-walk she'd been taking through all the times, the fun, the laughter and loving they had shared since their very
first meeting. She was unaware that he was awake and watching her. The tenderness which was his first emotion on opening his eyes and seeing her, feeling her so close, swiftly turned to passion as he claimed her lips, intoxicated by the taste and smell of her. Her passion rose like a fountain to meet him and within a brief instant, once more they came together, one body, one mind one spirit.
A long time passed before they came back to earth until, finally, all passion spent, they lay entwined together, isolated within the world of their love, and they were both struck by the intensity of the sound of silence all around them.
Suddenly, the silence was broken by the sound of music. Someone was up and about. The caressing sound of Tom Jackson's mellifluous voice was as seductive in the morning as it had been the night before. Obviously it was time to rise and meet the day.
Playfully, teasing one another, love apparent in every gesture, every touch, Jax and Brenda headed for the shower together. Soon they were dressed, both wearing white turtle neck sweaters and black jeans, and they joined Robert and Anna for breakfast and the order of the day.
Conversation during breakfast was casual, lighthearted and playful. There was a hard day's work ahead and the four friends relished the brief opportunity to relax, to chat, to be at ease and comfortable together. When the final cup of coffee was poured, Robert stood up and said,
"Well children! Time for work. We have a lot to do today." He led them to the fire where they sat as they had the night before. Robert and Anna were on the sofa. Jax and Brenda shared the large armchair, his arms around her. Robert was talking.
"Everything is in place, the equipment is up and running. Just a few final details to cover, a reality check to make sure we all understand what needs to be done. You two will be on your own starting tomorrow. Anna and I must go out into the cold, cruel world and see to some criminals.
"What do we do first?" Jax asked him. "Look at the war-room, or do you want to cover the layout of this place first? I rather think that might be fairly important."
"Right," Robert agreed. "There are a number of things I haven't told you." He produced a map which he laid out on the coffee table.
"My God! This place is huge!" Jax exclaimed. "This map is old! Does it run under the entire city?"
"Just about! Most of it is older than the city. Sewer and water pipes run through several sections. That saved the city a lot of money way back then. There are also power lines in the area. It's possible actually to tap into the power grid in several places. However, we decided not to do that in recent years. No point in attracting attention. We use generators.
"The entire system of caves and caverns has a history that dates well before prohibition. Then the Catacombs were a hive of activity! I'm surprised there isn't more going on now. I suppose most of those who really knew the extent of the place have either died long ago or gone away. Besides ourselves, only two other people know about this particular little section here. Even Luke Spencer, who believes he is an expert, doesn't know about it."
"Where is the part where we are?" Jax asked him. "I don't see it. And, by the way, who else does know about this location?"
"Sean Donely and Frisco Jones, and nobody else.
"What we have here is a series of natural caves, entirely separate from what you see on the map. That small little cave," and he indicated an apparently insignificant point, "That is where you entered with the PICs on your first night here. Beyond that point, our caves here, are not detailed for obvious reasons. I have a separate schematic of this place for you."
"The section has been used as a hideout for some pretty important people over the past 70 years or more. It was furbished as you see it now by and for the benefit of the then Shah of Iran in the 1920s. Details aside, the caper at the time was top secret. Everything you see and a lot of stuff that's never been unpacked, came up the river on his yacht, more like an ocean-going liner.
"He spent almost half a year here, with a full retinue of staff, servants, slaves, what have you. Easy to do then, virtually impossible today I would think. Of course, the modern effects, bathrooms, futuristic heating system, the ambient night lighting, fireplaces, kitchen and so on, are all recent additions.
Robert told them that the Shah found the security so complete, and so novel that, when he left, as an expression of his appreciation to the Americans who had sheltered and protected him from certain assassination, he donated everything, furniture, wall hangings, an entire storage area filled with elaborate exotic stuff, and told them to use it for someone else in a similar desperate situation to his own. It had been well used over the years, by foreigners and Americans alike and now, here they were with some serious work to do.
The "war-room", which is only a few years old, and is constantly updated with the latest in hi-tech equipment, is an invaluable information relay, linking Interpol, the FBI, CIA, RCMP and Scotland Yard. The center is owned, controlled and operated by the WSB and only four agents have access or know the location.
"We need to take a walk," Robert said. "There are a few bolt-holes you should know about. I hope you'll not need them, but "Safety First" is the watchword. The entrances and exits, and your emergency contacts, both local and for the WSB, Interpol, and others, are the main things we need to cover. First, however, let's discuss the reasons we are all here."
Robert, with Anna filling in details from time to time, outlined their mission. They spoke mainly about the international drug trade. saying that for every kilo of heroin or cocaine seized by international law enforcement groups, maybe 100 kilos got through into local distribution networks. Another ten percent was seized in the United States, Canada, and Europe, but the rest was sold, often to minor children on the streets and in schoolyards everywhere. The authorities were waging a losing battle.
Most of the drugs originate in South America, with some coming in also from Asia and the Middle East. The money and power behind the whole thing is incalculable, and far exceeds the resources available to the combined law enforcement agencies that are actively fighting the battle. That was the big picture.
While Robert and Anna had acted in several international locations, using underground routes established many years ago when they were young WSB agents, and contacts built up through the years, right now, their field of activity is North America.
They explained that the drug distribution networks are set up on a "territory" basis, much the same as a large company might assign a sales manager to, say, three or four states, or to a country like Canada or Mexico. The territories have "Managers", just like the sales organization, but with a difference.
The Company Sales Manager is an employee who must report to some head office authority. In the crime "business", the "Managers" are mob bosses who are usually autonomous in their "Territories" which have been won through power struggle or brokered agreements of one form or another. Often, the power is settled by rival mobs shooting it out on the streets. You had that here in Port Charles not too long ago when the late unlamented Joe Scully tried to move in on Sonny Corinthos, your local crime lord. His old lieutenant, Harry Silver, now based in Chicago, has been making raids into the North East. So far, our Mr. C. doesn't know where the thorn in his side is coming from.
"But Sonny doesn't believe in violence. He doesn't believe in prostitution and he doesn't have anything to do with drugs. I've heard him say that," Brenda told them, and got Robert's focused attention.
"Yes, I've heard that story too, Brenda. However, Mr. Corinthos is THE acknowledged crime lord in the North East. There is drug running, there is prostitution, there is illegal trucking, union corruption, illegal betting, money laundering, and the list goes on and on, and it is all taking place here, where our Mr. Corinthos holds sway, from his stool at the bar at Luke's.
"Not too long ago, when he operated the Paradise Lounge where Luke's is now, he actively recruited underage girls, turned them onto drugs and put them to work as strippers. He watched while some of his henchmen beat young Jagger Cates half to death when he went in there to rescue Karen Wexler. Tell me, do you believe he permits others to operate in his "Territory"?"
"I don't know," Brenda told him.
"Of course you don't. The little you do know, and it is not recent or reliable information, you found out by accident, right? I assure you, there is only one crime boss in this area and that is Mr. Sonny Corinthos. He did not achieve that status by accident. He worked very hard to get where he is today.
"I grant you he is clever, he is still free and alive. People want to believe that he is a nice, honest, clean-living, harmless, maybe even glamorous underworld figure with a pure soft heart who just happens to be where he is by sheer accident, bad luck, a quirk of fate and a sad, abused childhood, but he wouldn't harm a fly. People pretend to believe it because they don't know how else to respond to the fact that he is in their faces all the time. I hope you don't believe all that nonsense, much as you might like to. Have you forgotten Puerto Rico?"
Robert explained that there are crime bosses in New York City, in Chicago, Detroit, Washington, Miami, Montreal, Toronto, Vancouver, in fact in every major center and, of course, in Port Charles. They cooperate with one another, collaborate as needed, and consult like heads of state. There are fewer mob gun-battles on the streets, true. The battles are in the boardroom, in back rooms, in alleyways and the guns are used as sparingly as possible. When necessary, they are used quietly. They are lethal and people still die if they step out of line in any way.
"Mr. Corinthos was not joking when he offered Luke Spencer, on a number of occasions, to get rid of Stefan Cassadine, and he was deadly serious when he told Tracy Quartermaine to watch her back. This is a dangerous enemy."
"He did that? You have him watched?" Brenda asked.
"Always! and yes indeed he did! But he is watched by others, not by me. He threatened you didn't he, Jax? Best steer clear!"
Robert made it clear that his job in Port Charles was not the pursuit of Sonny Corinthos. His team, including Jax and Brenda, was watching a trail of heroin which was in the "pipeline", coming in from Columbia, via Puerto Rico, destined for Miami, but on a route through Port Charles where a major connection would be made. Their goal was not only to seize the drugs but also to paralyze the entire delivery system, including the Columbian source and the distribution network at the American end.
In the meantime, they were keeping careful watch on the local activities and gathering as much information as possible on all the North American crime bosses . For instance, Anna explained, without a doubt, there is a web of organized crime throughout the entire gaming industry that reaches from Las Vegas to Atlanta to Montreal, and that includes horse racing, charity bingos and games, even sports lotteries and lottery machines, including those that are supposed to be government controlled. The six Americans who were arrested recently at the Kahnawaghe Native Reserve Casino by the New York State police are all known associates, more likely employees, of the crime lord of the North East. They are out on bail, have first class lawyers, and they are all employed in one or another of Mr. Corinthos's gyms which are dotted throughout the country.
"Gyms?" Jax asked.
"Gyms! Fitness outlets! Health or Exercise Clubs, call them what you will! Corinthos either owns, franchises or has an interest in over two hundred of these places all across the country. Legitimate on the face of it, organized so that they show very little profit, they provide an excellent place to give employment to his "employees" when they run foul of the law, or after they are released from prison. He "takes good care" of them!
"And that's not all. He is also involved in a similar way with a string of 63 high-status beauty salons that are run in exactly the same way as the Fitness outfits. There is a core of steady workers in both ventures, but about 70% of the employees are transients. Nothing illegal in that. Think of the possibilities!
"In every one of these places, employees were found selling drugs and other contraband to clients of the place and to their own "customers". Mr. Corinthos may not be selling drugs himself, but he certainly makes it possible for those he protects to enter the entrepreneurial life both while awaiting trial and after they are released from jail. In effect, he has loyal workers he can call on right across the country, not just here in the North East."
"Incredible. A very dangerous customer!"
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