Chapter Seventeen

         The long limousine was idling in the parking lot adjacent to the band shell.   The music from the concert throbbed dully against the smoky, bulletproof glass and made an interesting background as one man was interrogated by five.    After nearly an hour of subtle threats and overt, painful hints, the guy finally blacked out.   The fact that his name was Del Mansfield was the only piece of information he’d given them.

         Jax revived him with smelling salts and Luke informed Del that if he wanted to live, he was going to drive them to the place where he worked for the Keeper. Jason’s physical threats didn't do as much as Luke’s verbal one.   If he did not, Luke told him, he would have a bullet permanently lodged in his brain’s frontal lobe.   Not enough to kill him, Luke explained patiently, but enough to make him a doddering idiot for the rest of his natural life. This obviously scared the guy enough to hustle to the front of the car when urged and get behind the wheel with Luke holding the gun on him at all times.   John, Jerry, Jason and Jax were impressed with Luke’s efficiency, but none of them were sure he even knew what the frontal lobe of the brain was, no less if he could actually disable it without killing the guy.   Jerry shrugged and looked out through the glass partition as Luke and the new "chauffeur" climbed into the limo from the front passenger side. Jason hustled to Luke’s car and gunned the engine impatiently.

         John looked at Jax and then pointedly at Jerry.   Jax cleared his throat and said, "Uh, Jerry?"

         Jerry turned to look at his brother.   Then he looked from his brother to his father and back.   "No way.   I am not staying here. There is no way I can stay here while you three – and Jason, Mac and V save my wife.   No way. Not happening.   I am not moving." Although the words were staunch and strong, Jerry was actually pleading, a position that was both unusual and uncomfortable for him.

         Luke put down the sliding glass privacy panel and said, "Jer, this is going to be dangerous and tricky.   No offense, pal, I just don’t think you’re ready to take this trip down wacky-kidnapper lane."

         Jerry felt ridiculous begging, but Bobbie’s life was at stake.   So he pulled out his last ace. Christ, I am becoming like that cheat, Prentiss … saving one card up my sleeve for the last possible moment.   Jerry had one more secret and quietly he said,   "Without me you’re not getting into the dungeon."

         Jax groaned.   "You don’t mean to say there’s more that you haven’t told us?"

         "Yes and no."

         "What else could there possibly be, Jerry?" His father was irritated.   Jerry answered quickly as the car pulled away from the parking lot.

         "Ok. This is level eight of the game.   I know how to open up the doors to the dungeon; it would take too damn long to explain it to you.   I have to go."   He repeated softly, "I have to go."

         The children were left in the care of Simon Prentiss who murmured something about needing practice. V winked at him and got into the second car with an expression of grim determination on her face.   Simon knew that look all too well.   Choosing not to think of the risks, he took Lucas by the hand and wheeled Candy in the direction of the stage to hunt for Ned and Alexis.   Carly and Michael followed them.   Felicia, Mac, V, Jason and Jane followed the limousine in Luke’s rented car.

         Oddly, the Keeper left his five captives alone together for a long time.   Bobbie got dressed with Chloe’s aid.   Brenda sat in the rocking chair back in the corner of her section of the wide-open space and rocked constantly. Meanwhile, introductions were made, reunions were had, wounds were tended, and plans were formulated and then discarded.   The Keeper was stronger than any two of them at any time.   They were an undernourished, bruised and under-exercised lot at best.   Even the most recent captives, Chloe and Bobbie, were not at their usual physical peak.   And that peak certainly didn’t include hurting a large, muscular man no matter how many exercise classes they each took regularly.

         Fearing they were being monitored or listened to, Bobbie didn’t disclose the gun she had found in her possession.   She tried to figure out a way to tell her fellow captives, but decided to keep it to herself for the time being.   Patience was something that had merit and the Keeper would eventually visit them again.

         They didn’t have long to wait.   The Keeper strode into the space that was once Bobbie’s chamber with a stun gun in his right hand.   He seemed truly pleased with Bobbie’s ability to get all of his captives into one room.   "I thought you’d never figure out the sound part," he said gleefully.   "But I was genuinely impressed when you figured out how to open the walls."

         Bobbie failed to mention both discoveries had been accidental.   So she decided to ask him other questions that might distract him enough for Lucky or Tony to get the gun from him.

         "Are we the only five people here?   Where are all the other members of our families that are supposedly dead?"

         "Oh.   They’re all well and truly dead. I used them as a lure for someone, anyone to start questioning…" he paused and smirked.   "I thought Luke would be my go-to guy, but it seems that a couple of fellas named Jack Daniels and Johnnie Walker had his mind otherwise occupied.   That left your less-than-sterling, less-than-brilliant, husband, Jerry."  

         Bobbie bristled at the comment and retorted, "He was smart enough to track you down."   This irritated the Keeper and distracted him too.   Lucky chose that moment to make a move to strike him, but the Keeper’s reflexes were more acute than Lucky’s and Lucky was quickly dispatched with the zap of the stun gun.

         He landed on the floor, writhing in pain.   "Come on, my boy… get up.   Act like the man your father never was.   I was never able to do a thing with that boy.   But you.   You have potential, yes sir.   I can make you into a real man."   Lucky looked at him from under a thick fringe of lashes.   He sat up slowly.  

         "What the hell do you mean by ‘I was never able to do a thing with that boy?’" Lucky asked belligerently.

         The Keeper laughed evilly as he pushed Bobbie to the bed.   He turned back to Lucky and said,   "Oh didn’t sweet Auntie Bobbie the hooker tell you who I am?   I’m her very first trick my boy, the papa that gave your papa life.   I’m your granddaddy."   Lorenzo stared down at his grandson, scowling and waiting for a response.

         Bobbie had had enough waiting.   She was glowering with anger.   Slowly she edged to the head of her bed. As Lucky grappled with the facts he’d just heard, and Chloe and Tony looked on in disbelief, Bobbie pulled John’s much-loved gun out from under her pillow.

         "How dare you insult me by calling yourself a john." She said to her father’s back.   "At least when I was a prostitute I chose the men I slept with, I chose the time, I chose the place.   The only way you were able to get near me was because I was a defenseless child."   Tony was shielding Chloe behind his back, and he stared at Bobbie in disbelief, amazed at the weapon in her hands.   Never for one moment did Tony believe she would be able to use it.

         The Keeper turned towards her and she clutched the gun in both hands, aiming for the area where a human heart should have beat in his chest.   She was sure in that moment that the bullet, no matter how well aimed would never find a heart as its target.   She finished speaking with venom dripping on her words,    "Believe me, Daddy, you’ll never come near me, or what’s mine, ever again."   Bobbie had struck out with the only weapons available to her, first her mouth and then as her father became enraged and advanced on her, she fired the gun at point blank range.   He never even seemed to see the weapon in her hands.

         To Bobbie, time suddenly took on the hazy effect of slow motion in a movie.   She felt the cold steel and then the recoil of the gun as it fired.   It seemed as if she could actually see the bullet heading towards her target. It was surreal, and in a moment it was over.   But in the intervening tenth of a second she experienced one slight twinge of regret.

         The one and only time Barbara Jean Spencer-Brock-Meyer-Jones-Cassadine-Jacks had ever fired a gun, she hit her mark dead-on. After twenty years of upholding her nurse’s oath to care for and preserve human life she’d murdered someone in cold-blood.   She took away the life of the one who gave her hers. Lucky and Tony jumped to help her, but Bobbie was beyond needing help.   In a shock-induced daze, she rose and made sure the deed was well and truly done by smashing the computer monitor on his head.   As her son would say, "just to be sure."   The gun fell from her hand with a thud and she sat down on the floor.   And for the first time in seven days, Bobbie began to weep.  

         "She’s in shock," shouted Tony.   Lucky rushed to his Aunt.   Chloe also ran to Bobbie’s side.   Through it all, Brenda sat in the rocker quietly humming.

         Chloe sat down on the floor and wiped Bobbie’s eyes with a soft handkerchief.   One of a few personal possessions Chloe’d had with her when she had been kidnapped.   The soft well-worn linen was embroidered with the initials CM. Bobbie looked up at Chloe and at Lucky who was hovering nearby.   Bobbie took note of the handkerchief and the initials.   Chloe would live to marry Jax and change those initials if they could find a way out of this stainless steel prison.   Her mind refocused on the task at hand.   Bobbie had seen death before – a thousand times, this one was really not much different, except in the fact that she had caused its occurrence.

         "I’m ok.   Really. I’m just sorry that you all had to witness that.   I’ve never – I mean I wouldn’t have if---" She paused and looked over to her father’s body.   Tony was grimly searching the dead man’s pockets.

         For a moment, Chloe, Lucky and Bobbie simply stared at his behavior, thinking he must have gone around the bend.   He looked up to catch them staring.

         "Tony, are you alright?" Lucky asked.

         "Of course I am!   I’m just looking for a way to open these damn doors.   Because if we don’t find it, we’ll die here."