by Lisa B
Sorry it has taken so long to get this chapter out! I don't know where the days are going...lol. And Mel, I hope this answers the burning answering machine question for you, lmao!
Hope you all enjoy.
Lisa B
Chapter 105
Brian checked his watch for the third time in the past 15 minutes. Still reeling from the events of the past day, he tried to shake off the mood of foreboding that consumed him. It was hard to believe how much had happened in 24 short miserable little hours. Yesterday had started with a bang. Brenda Jacks blowing into town had caused his discomfort level with Julia's disappearance to accelerate exponentially. Julia may have started out needing a little R & R from Brian's constant henpecking but it was now evident that things had changed. As much as he hated to admit it, Julia was now embroiled in the web of espionage that was somehow tied to Ben Peterson's untimely demise.
Rushing from the apartment certain he would be back in a few hours, Brian hadn't bothered briefing Brenda. Another classic mistake in the string of mistakes that seemed to chronicle his current job performance at Barrett Industries. At this point, Brian felt he had so many strikes against him he had stopped bothering to count them.
He refused to give himself any slack. When he left Brenda in the apartment, he could not have anticipated being stuck in an elevator for 5 hours. The minutes blurred into hours which meant the loss of more precious time. He had made a personal oath to use stairs from that point forward if it was at all possible. Then there was the hassle with immigration at the airport. Bureaucracy at its finest. It galled him that the authorities had the nerve…the utter audacity to herd him and his companions into separate holding rooms…really nothing more than holding cells….until they could confirm that Brian's story about working with MI-6 about the Barrett bombing and the open file on the Peterson murder were on the up and up. Thank goodness, the strong arms had finally gotten hold of Jenson at headquarters and cleared the fiasco up. Of course, it took them a measly 14 hours to decide he and his crew weren't some sort of international crime ring.
Through all of this, he had little time to think about the newest addition to his surveillance assignment. Now, he was starting to get this sinking feeling about Brenda. She had promised him to stay in the apartment. Like she really kept the promise, when they both knew the clock was ticking and Julia had to be found. He had less chance of keeping reins on Brenda than he did on Julia and who knew where she was. Brian closed his eyes and listened to the drone of the officer from Scotland Yard. He had been sermonizing at length about unprofessional behavior of his associates when they went through customs. Brian wondered if he would ever shut up.
After what seemed an eternity, they were released to go. Brian gathered up the men and headed for his car, which was parked in the lot. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that it hadn't been towed away. That would have been the final straw.
Once every one was packed into the van. Brian finished the briefing that had begun hours before.
"So you see, the game has changed. Julia's been snatched and I don't know who has her or where she is. My guess is that she's being held in London."
A tall, sultry man remained quiet in the back seat sifting through details that had been laid out before him. He was affectionately known as The Thinker. When other men rushed forward headlong, he held back analyzing the situation. His mind was a work of poetry in motion. Strategy was his forte. The Thinker could piece together meaningless facts into a cohesive picture with breath taking speed.
Brian was gambling that he'd be able to uncover some meaningless bit of information that would lead to Julia's whereabouts.
********************************
And you know it's time to go
Through the sleet and driving snow
Across the fields of mourning
Light in the distance
Joanne opens her suitcase examining her wares. She had packed light but not trashy. Buried under her things was a knee grazing jet-black sleeveless dress. Fishing in the zippered compartment, she found a pair of sheer black hose and fashionably chic black pumps. Her fingers caressed the soft Italian leather. This job certainly had its perks. Hidden under one of Jock's button down shirts was a black silk sweater with antique buttons. It was the perfect ensemble for deception.
And you hunger for the time
Time to heal, desire, time
And your earth moves beneath
Your own dream landscape
Oh, oh, oh...
On borderland we run...
I'll be there
I'll be there...
Tonight
A high road
A high road out from here
Joanne checked her hair and makeup in the bathroom mirror. Smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress, she surveyed her handy work. Once again, the transformation was complete. Staring back at her was the reflection of one Mrs. Brenda Jacks nee Barrett. It was imperative that Joanne get to Julia's apartment. Passing as Brenda seemed like the easiest way to get in.
The city walls are all come down
The dust, a smoke screen all around
See faces ploughed like fields that once
Gave no resistance
And we live by the side of the road
On the side of a hill
As the valley explode
Dislocated, suffocated
The land grows weary of its own
She pulled out the automatic. It had payed to have a safety deposit box. Four clips loaded and her favorite gun left in storage just in case. Joanne wondered what had made her plan ahead. In her wildest dreams, she would never guessed the road this case had taken.
Oh, oh, oh...on borderland we run...
And still we run
We run and don't look back
I'll be there
I'll be there
Tonight
Tonight
I'll be there tonight...I believe
I'll be there...somehow
I'll be there...tonight
Tonight
The wind will crack in winter time
This bomb-blast lightning waltz
No spoken words, just a scream...
Sitting at the table, she pulled the shade off the lamp and brought it closer. In a flash, she had the gun dismantled and went through the drill making sure it was clean and ready to use. Quickly, she reassembled the firearm and snapped the clip into place. Surely, her efforts wouldn't be wasted. She could taste Jason Morgan's presence in London. Now all she had to do was find him.
Tonight we'll build a bridge
Across the sea and land
See the sky, the burning rain
She will die and live again
Tonight
And your heart beats so slow
Through the rain and fallen snow
Across the fields of mourning
Light's in the distance
Oh don't sorrow, no don't weep
For tonight, at last
I am coming home
I am coming home
Hailing a cab, she gave the directions for Julia's London apartment. London was awash in the after glow of a long day. A light mist had settled over the city making the windows and lights glisten. There was magic in the air. Joanne hoped today was her lucky day.
Alighting from the cab, Joanne took a deep breath readying herself for the pretext. Playing the often overlooked Ms. Barrett had opened her eyes to the world. Men found it so hard to see beyond a pretty face to find the strength of the woman beneath. Being famous, rich and sought after, only added to the illusion. As Joanne approached the entryway, she noticed a young woman frantically pushing one of the buzzers.
"Damn, damn, damn!" the woman exclaimed.
Joanne moved to the side but not quick enough to avoid the harried retreat of the woman who had seconds before been attacking some unsuspecting tenants buzzer.
"Oh, excuse me…" The woman muttered as she bumped into Joanne. "I didn't…" She stopped staring at Joanne. "Brenda….Brenda Barrett is that you?"
Intrigued, Joanne played along. "Yes." She answered with the perfect mix of calm distain and aloofness.
"Bren..it's me Sami. Where have you been? This is the second time I've come by the apartment to get the keys. Julia has brought the keys back hasn't she?"
"Yes, the keys." Joanne agreed trying to make sense of the conversation as a gut feeling told her figuring this riddle out was critical.
"Are they in the apartment? Do you have them? I really want to use the apartment this weekend for a little getaway." She winked at Joanne and smiled.
"I don't have the keys….ummm….you know how Julia is, never trusting anyone but herself."
"Are you kidding…she's still like that. Julia was always so regimented. That's why I was so surprised when she dodged that guy…what was his name?" Samantha took a moment trying to remember Brian Smith but came up empty. "You know…the security guy who was shadowing her. Though if you ask me, she was crazy ditching him like that…I mean he looked like he could be a lot of fun. I wouldn't mind being cooped up in an apartment alone with him!" Samantha droned on as Joanne started to fit some of the pieces together.
So Julia had given Brian the slip and Brenda was in London but no one was at Julia's. What the hell was Brenda doing in London, she was supposed to be in Boston with the rest of the McGillen clan and Jock. What a joke this was. No one was where they were supposed to be. A cry escaped Joanne's lips. That was it. No one was where they were supposed to be so everyone knew things they shouldn't.
Samantha's tone turned serious. "Brenda…are you okay?"
The clock was ticking and Joanne was convinced Jason Morgan was playing with his latest victim. The words spilled from her mouth. "The apartment! What's the address?"
A look of concern crossed Samantha Beyers' face. "No joking Brenda. This isn't funny. I told the address on the phone when we talked. You said you'd get the keys from Julia. Do you have them or not?"
Joanne grabbed the woman by the arms.
"Let go of me…Brenda, you're hurting me let go."
"Listen, I need that address. So stop your whining and tell me what it is." Joanne snapped.
"33 Wickham Ave…the same bloody address I told you before. Now get your stinking hands off of me. I don't care how much money you have you Lady are out of your head. I want the keys back by tomorrow. I'm at the Plaza."
Joanne reached into her bag and felt the reassuring cold steel of her 45. She was convinced she was going to need it.
********************** Port Charles New York ************************
Cloaked in darkness, Jock woke up in a cold sweat. Trying to focus, he was unfamiliar with his surroundings. Then he remembered tracking down Joanne in Port Charles. Snapping on the light near the bed, he noticed a note scrawled across the back of an envelope. The handwriting was undeniably Joanne's. He picked up the note and tried to descipher her hurried strokes. He heard a commotion on the stairs outside of the room and stood by the door to listen.
Before he had time to react, the door crashed in on him. Pinned against the wall, Jock was shocked to see the smiling face of his brother Ryan.
"Jock, so when are you going to marry her?" Ryan broke out laughing as Jock tried to figure out what was going on.
********************* Damascus Syria ******************************
Emily Thompson was shocked by the guant appearance of the man before her. His eyes were hollow with fear and anger. Instantly, she knew who he was.
"Mr. Romero." She held out her hand to the man.
"Please, call me Eduardo. And you are?" He asked as he shook her hand.
"Emily…Emily Thompson. How much has Jax filled you in?"
"Yes, Karen's mother…she was a lovely girl."
The tears welled up in Emily's eyes at the mention of Karen. "Yes…yes she was but you're not here to talk about Karen."
The anger tugged at Eduardo's face. "No I'm not. Have you learned anything new about my sister?"
"No but maybe you can find something we couldn't."
Eduardo sat down and dug into Jerry's records. For the first time in his life, he had assumed the role of head of the family. The days of the drunken playboy were over Bodega had drawn first blood.
**************** song credit goes to U2 A sort of Homecoming*********