"We need to talk," Jared said to Marty when he finally got past the guards at WEB. His mood hadn't improved since he'd repeatedly been denied phone access earlier that day. "You're going to talk with me now, or I'll..."

"You'll what?" Marty asked, dismissing the guard who was struggling not to smirk. She closed the office door and said, "Sit down, Jared. Now, what's your problem?"

Only mildly surprised by her lack of patience with him, Jared asked, "My problem? Damnit, Marty, what kind of rig are you running this time? And don't act all innocent because we both know better."

"What do you want to know, Jared? Make it quick as I'm pretty busy at the moment."

"I don't like being jerked around, Marty. How long has he known?"

"He who?"

"Jack. Our son. How long has he known-and don't try to con me. He's known for years, hasn't he? You've both kept me in the dark about this. Damnit, I had a right to know. This whole thing was a setup and I want to know why."

"Calm down, Jared," Marty ordered. "Or I'll have you thrown out again."

"Like hell you will. That's my son you sent undercover, and I want to know why."

"He's my son, too, and he volunteered," Marty snapped back.

"Where did he go?"

"Leave him alone," Marty told him. "Stay away from Jack."

"Stay away from my only son? What kind of a woman are you?"

"Don't push me, Jared. What kind of a woman am I? I'm a pragmatist. I do what it takes to get the job done."

"With Jack?"

"You never objected before, and you've known for years. Why are you getting all fatherly now? Your conscience bothering you? Is it because now you know that he knows? You never acknowledged him before-and you knew. You've known since he was a little boy. I guess it was easier than confronting your past, easier pretending that no relationship existed."

"What did you want me to do? I respected his privacy. He could have come to me at any time and I wouldn't have denied him."

"Until the other day when he overheard your wish that you never had to tell him."

"Well pardon me all to hell! I wasn't looking forward to telling my son that he couldn't date his half-sister. It wasn't one of my better moments, I'll admit that."

"How noble of you."

"So tell me, Marty. When did Jack find out that he was your son? When did you acknowledge him? How did you handle that particular event?"

"I called him 'son'. When he came to ask for a job, I called him 'son'". Her eyes grew bright with unshed tears. "And he smiled and nodded. He knew, Jared. He knew both our names, and had correctly deduced the truth. He had gathered the intelligence, hacked his way into some well-guarded computers and gathered the intelligence himself. Then, he tracked me down. He asked for a job and said that if I didn't hire him, he'd find an intelligence agency that would. He was twenty-two at the time, Jared. He'd been approached by any number of other agencies-he's the kind they want. Smart, quick thinking, and willing to work."

"WSB?"

"They tried, but he came to see me. I wouldn't allow him to even consider the WSB, knowing what I know about them. He was as hot and idealistic as you were-and bright! Damn, Jared, Jack's smarter than either of us."

"He needs experience."

"He's had some-you know about Europe and North Africa. And, he's getting more experience as we speak."

"Doing what?"

"He's on assignment. Leave him alone."

"Tell me, Marty-or I'll track him down."

"Matthews Medical Research. Don't mess with this, Jared. This is very important."

"Tom Hardy?"

Marty nodded. "Kevin got that much out of him. There's something weird going on there. Something that connects Stuart Matthews with Tom, and therefore with Port Charles. Things get worse from there."

"How much worse?"

"My sources back East tell me that the impostor Tom has ties to the Cassadines, to Sonny Corinthos, known mob boss, and that the fake Tom was the former lover of Felicia Jones-ex-wife of Frisco Jones. That means that Matthews may well have ties to the Cassadines and Corinthos. The Cassadines have ties worldwide, and Corinthos controls a lot of the mob activity on the east coast."

"And you think that the fake Tom is the link?"

"At least 'a' link. The only one we have at the moment."

"What do we have on Matthews?"

"Not much. He's wealthy, unmarried with several ex-mistresses.-You might find this interesting. His last was Victoria Powell-the woman currently living next door to your brother."

"Damn!"

"I agree. This is too coincidental for me. There's something going on, Jared. I feel it!"

"I believe you."

"I feel like I'm doing a very complicated logic problem without a finite number of clues or players. Things like 'If we have the real Tom, then the other one is fake and if he's fake, his actions and ties are suspect.' But, I don't know if I have enough clues to solve the puzzle. I'm not even sure what I'm looking for."

"Who do we have in Port Charles?"

"We? Are you back at work?"

"For better or worse."

Their eyes met and he grinned sheepishly. "That phrase used to make me uncomfortable. I'm kinda starting to like it now."

"It's okay, Tom," Kevin soothed the man who was cowering in the corner of the small room. Tom was shaking, his hands covering his head as if fending off blows. "Tom, nobody will hurt you now. I'm Kevin, remember? I'm here to help you get past the pain, and find out what happened to you."

"Can't help me. It hurts."

"What hurts?"

"My head. Sounds. Words. No more machines!! No more pain!!"

Kevin moved to kneel beside Tom. "The pain is gone, Tom. You can relax now."

"Can't relax. They won't let me."

"They're gone."

"They came back but I was dead. The drops made me die."

"Drops?"

"Little drops."

"Who gave you the drops?"

"She did. Beautiful. Like an angel. Said the drops would make me stop hurting. Then I died, but I came back."

Kevin sat down beside Tom who was breathing easier. "Relax, Tom. It's over and they can't hurt you now. The memories will remain, but the pain will fade to nothing. You can remember without the pain."

"Like when I was dead. I could see me, see it all, and it didn't hurt." Tom groaned, and added, "But he made me come back to the pain."

"Who did that?"

"A man with more drops. They carried me to the grave and he put drops in my mouth while the other man wasn't looking. He put the drops in my mouth and said something to me."

"What was it? What did he say?"

"Timoria, or something like that."

8,935 Fans of "Web of Deceit" visited us previously