MARTYWRITES.COM Presents "THE SEVENTH ROSE" a GH Fan Fiction "The Seventh Rose"

CHAPTER THIRTY




Ryan picked up the telephone receiver, dropped in the requisite change and punched in the numbers he'd memorized. "I did as you said, and I wanted you to know that I'm leaving the country today. I was wondering if you might be able to make use of the other party."

"No. Eliminate the problem at once."

"There's a baby involved."

"Do what you must. There can be no loose ends."

There was a long pause. Then Ryan caustically pointed out, "And people think I'm a monster. I don't kill babies, you bastard. I'm a @#$%^& pediatrician."

"I will tolerate no insubordination. You have your orders."

"And you can shove your orders, you scrawny little Rasputin wannabe. I'm outta here."

Julian stared at the telephone in disbelief, then shrugged. A minor adjustment in plans, no more, was required. He reset the phone and punched in a series of numbers. "Reece?"

"Sir?"

"It will appear that you arrived too late to rescue the women, and you will be forced to kill Dr. Chamberlain in self-defense."

"Understood."

Julian hung up the phone, and then strolled back into the room where his captive lay, strapped to the bed, gagged. Her dark eyes flashed angrily at him, and he smiled back at her. "You never cease to amaze me. You know what must happen, that there will be no escape for you, yet you continue to fight me."

She made some unintelligible sound that he correctly deduced as a shocking curse.

"I understand the sentiment, and I do regret the lack of hospitality that I must show one who should have been a guest. However, your plans and mine simply cannot coexist, and as such, my plans must supercede yours." He removed a vial from his pocket, and then took a syringe from a bag near the bed. Carefully, he withdrew some from the vial, and then squeezed the plunger until a little spurted from the top. "Now, don't fight me, my dear. You have information that I need, and I will have it, with, or without your cooperation."

Quickly he injected the serum into the woman, and waited patiently as it took effect. As soon as he was certain that she'd talk, he pulled the gag from her mouth. "Now, my dear, I want to know everything that you know about The Seventh Rose."


"I keep coming up with these $%^&* roses," Suzi griped. "Everywhere I turn, there are roses, or references to roses. There are flowers, clubs, references to a White Rose which was an organization back in the early forties that was against the Nazis-that was terminated by the Gestapo."

"But nothing to do with Julian Rose?" asked Peter as he looked over her shoulder at the computer screen.

"Nada. Zip. Zilch. Marty said that she'd been able to turn up nothing, but there has to be something. Nobody just beamed this guy down, full grown, to Rose Academy, yet if we research his records, that is just about the case. His teachers are all fully accredited, and their records are all intact, but his-all I know is that he suddenly showed up, bought the old castle and called it Rose Academy. He hired teachers, paid them well, and recruited his students from wealthy families. With a teaching staff like he had, all Ph.D. types, excellent facilities, and fat salaries, he was able to draw the best students from the wealthiest families. And to those who couldn't pay, well, if they were bright enough, they came on a full scholarship."

"So where did he get the loot? That sort of thing doesn't come cheap."

"No clue. He's almost like a ghost here-there are no pictures of the guy on record-at least that I can find. He's big on avoiding the limelight. His spokesman says that it is in the best interests of the school. You know how rich people are about keeping their kids from the spotlight so that they can have a normal life and avoid kidnappers."

She and Peter exchanged grins, both grateful that their own son had escaped the kidnappers that had taken him only a few months earlier.

"So the only thing that we know is that he is very rich, has a thing for roses, has a fine school, and is a dead ringer for Faison."

"That's about it. Wait a minute. We do know a little about Faison.....I wonder...."

Quickly, she picked up the phone.

"Marty? Sorry about the time discrepancy, but we're striking out. One last idea. Can you send me all you have on the background of Cesar Faison?"

"Sure," Marty responded, her mind alert despite just having been awakened from a sound sleep. "I'll fax the essentials out immediately. All we know for sure is that he was from Denmark, originally, and that he linked up with the DVX somewhere along the line. He recruited spies from wealthy families.....I see where you're going."

"Great minds think alike," Suzi responded.

"And with names like Julian and Cesar-not so far from Julius and Caesar-both Italian-this is weird."

"Indeed. Look, I'm going to keep digging here. Is Jeremy all right?"

"Still doing fine, but still no trace of his mother."

"I'll tell Peter. Okay, I'll wait for the faxes. Thanks."

"Okay, they'll be right out. Chat later!!"

Suzi turned to Peter who was looking out the window. "You know, Rose Academy tried to recruit P.J., but he wanted to stay with us. Jeremy wanted to go away, to see Europe. His mother wanted him to take advantage of that great opportunity, so she let him go."

"We'll get to the bottom of this," Suzi promised. "Jared will find your sister."

"I hope so," Peter said, his expression grim. "I hope so."


Everything had suddenly turned to ****, Ryan thought disgustedly as he turned away from the phone. It was time to hit the road again, and while the additional money would have been nice to have, it wasn't essential. The past few years had seen both good and bad, the good having been financial gain, the bad-well, there were things that he really didn't enjoy contemplating. Odd, but now and then, the things he'd done haunted him in the night. Not that he could do anything about it-what was done was done, and he'd come to terms with that. Still, there was some yearning for what he might have been, for what he might have had. Felicia, for example. She'd have married him if not for his past. They'd have had children of their own by now, he thought with no small amount of regret.

Most of all, he regretted Felicia, who now regarded him with fear and loathing. Not that he could blame her, he admitted freely. He'd done some pretty awful things in his life. He'd even been kidding himself about her wanting him, about her coming to love him, given time. No, that would never happen. He'd just had to see her face again, hear her voice, and for that, he'd jeopardized his own safety. Another strange thing? He'd found out that she no longer mattered to him. Oh, he wouldn't kill her-he'd give her that as a parting gift. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea of being magnanimous about things. Yeah, he'd let them go. Both of them, and he'd warn them about what was going on behind the scenes. It was little more than a gesture of goodwill, but then, this was the season.

His mind made up, Ryan headed back to the cabin the woods. Too bad he wasn't going back to the woman who loved him. "Honey, I'm home!" he called out, wishing that it was true. "Felicia?? Damn!!" He shivered, and realized that the women had set out in extremely cold weather, in unknown territory, and that it was his fault. Again, not that he could blame them. They had no way of knowing that they were safe from him, that he intended them no harm. They thought he was insane. "Which I'm not," he muttered. "True, I've done some really bad things, but that doesn't mean I'm crazy. Just different. But, I could be ordinary," he thought as he began tracking the women. "I'd have been a great father-hell, I know what not to do, that's for damned sure."

Tracking the women through the trees, he saw that they were headed for the road, and so he went back, climbed into his 4-wheel drive vehicle and drove in that direction, coming out and turning in the direction he figured that they'd gone. Away from the way he'd come in. A relatively short distance down the road, he saw a small cottage with smoke coming from the chimney, and, playing a hunch, he pulled over, noting that it seemed abandoned, except for the smoke.

Moments later, his search had been rewarded, and the cry of pain from the back room told him all he needed to know. "Carly?" Her muffled scream led him to her side, where she lay on a mattress. "You didn't need to run. I was going to let you go. I couldn't hurt you or the baby-hell-I love kids. I'm a pediatrician. I even love women, though you wouldn't know it from some of the things I've done. Yeah, I used to have a problem with blondes-Felicia probably told you all about that," Ryan confided as he knelt beside her. "But I'm past that. Not sure just when it happened, but it did. Here-I really am a doctor, so let me help. I take it Felicia went for help?"

Carly nodded, and Ryan commented, "That's a good thing. I can't stay long-I'm sure that you understand, given my circumstances, but...let's see. Things are pretty advanced here. This baby is going to be born any minute."

Cleaning up with the cold water from the sink, Ryan returned to help, all the while maintaining a running commentary. "I heard all the comments at the Outback the other night. You're in a lot of trouble, aren't you? Bobbie's daughter, a Cassadine, and fooling around with Tony Jones. Is he the father?" At the sudden flash of her eyes, he nodded. "I thought that might be the case. Paternity in doubt? Looking for love in all the wrong places, weren't you? You know, strangely enough, I understand. Ahh, there now, breathe and push! Once more...push! Come on, push again! I see the head. Come on, don't give up now...okay, here it comes!"

And suddenly, the baby rested in his hands, a mewling, squalling scrap of humanity, and oddly, something changed. Something else was born, though just what it was he didn't know, but holding the little boy in his hands, Ryan knew a rebirth in his own life. He smiled. "It's a boy, Carly. A beautiful baby boy. A little small, but he's a little early. So innocent, so fresh."

Carly's eyes met his, and he held out the baby for her to hold while he took care of her. Moments later, he sat beside her. "He's really wonderful, isn't he?"

"Yes," Carly nodded. "Wonderful." Her eyes were heavy with fatigue, and she was struggling to stay awake.

"It's okay-you can sleep now. I'll watch out for your son."

Because she could do nothing more, Carly drifted off to sleep, leaving Ryan to reach down and pick up the baby.

"It's you and me, kid," he pointed out. "Your momma's gone to sleep, and I promised that I'd take good care of you." The baby's tiny fingers gripped his index finger, and whatever had been reborn in Ryan suddenly heated, and began to grow. At the same time, tears started flowing down his cheeks. "It's going to be rough for you, being who you are-a Cassadine/Spencer/Jones maybe. They're going to fight over you, and you'll never have a moment's peace to grow up and be who you were meant to be. I know what the Cassadines are, and you don't want to mess around with them. Being part Spencer is only going to make you a pawn in their ongoing wars. You know, little guy, I could take you away from all of that, give you the life you ought to have.

"Don't laugh. I know what I've been, but I also know what I can be. I can make the choice to be different. To be who you need me to be-your father. Someone who will love you regardless. Like I needed to be loved. Maybe I'd have been better...stronger...yeah." Tears flowing down his cheeks, he carefully wrapped the little boy in his jacket, and said, "Come on, son. Daddy's going to take you far, far away."