And So It Begins
Part Forty-Eight
Sonny
Corinthos grew more and more frustrated with each unsuccessful attempt to
discover the origin of the frantic call he’d received from his stepson
Michael. He knew that it was
irrational, but his helplessness continued to masquerade as anger.
And his helpless guards bore the brunt.
“What
the hell good are you?” Sonny railed at the technology wizard he’d had
brought to the penthouse.
The
teenage boy shrugged off Sonny’s anger. He was young enough – and arrogant enough – to believe
himself untouchable. Beside, he
knew that once he was able to crack the mystery of the call’s origin, Mr.
Corinthos would be once again be his usual grateful self.
“His
guy is good,” the teenager noted. “I
don’t recognize his work.” His
fingertips flew across the laptop’s keys. Flashes of light bounced off the colorful fingernail polish
he wore. For several minutes the
only sound in the room was the clicking of keys.
“Whoa.”
The teenager sat back in disbelief and admiration.
His efforts to trace the call had uncovered a level of work that he did
not believe existed yet. “Just…
whoa, dude.”
“What
does that mean?” Sonny demanded. He
watched as the teenager took a moment to double-check his findings.
“There
are,” the green-haired youth explained, “only two guys on the planet that I
know about who are better than me at this stuff.”
He made the claim without any trace of arrogance.
“Whoever did this was waaaay ahead of us all.”
He shut the laptop. “And
it will take a while to figure out how he did it.
I’m going to have to contact the other guys if you want answers.”
Sonny
bit back his frustration. “How
long are you talking?”
“Longer
than you have,” the kid replied apologetically.
He took the mob boss’ silence as permission to leave the penthouse.
Sonny
gestured the remainder of the guards from the penthouse and softly closed the
door behind them. Hours had passed
since Michael’s call and three important things had not happened.
Jason had not arrived at the penthouse, nor had he called.
Michael had not managed to call Sonny again.
And Anthony Sorrell had not tried to contact him about the terms of
Carly’s release.
The edges of Sonny’s confidence were beginning to fray. He had no choice now but to make a move. He prayed that the next move he made did not result in disaster.