Strange Bedfellows
Eighteen

 

Security around Wyndemere was tighter than Alex remembered.  From his hiding place on the docks he could see the faint forms of guards patrolling Spoon Island.  For nearly three hours he watched them cover the island in disciplined patterns that left no area exposed.

Alex felt his anxiety grow.  Anything that required the Cassadine family to tighten their personal security perimeter was obviously quite serious.  The possibility of Dara somehow being caught in their crossfire worried Alex greatly.  And finally drove him to action.

Resolutely, Alex straightened his shoulders and headed for the two guards standing watch at the far end of the docks.  As he drew closer, he blinked to clear his sight.  It was like staring at a matched set of bookends.

Alex assessed them quickly.  The men were identical twins, with dark eyes and hair that formed distinct widow’s peaks upon their foreheads.  They were easily over six feet tall, and of very solid build.

“What’s the occasion?” Alex demanded of the two guards.  He adopted his most official tone.

Neither man bothered to even acknowledge Garcia’s presence.  They stared sightlessly ahead, their broad shoulders forming a barrier to the steps leading down to the launch.

“Let’s try that again.”  Alex flashed his badge.  Although he was not at the moment an authorized member of the Port Charles Police Department, the detective saw no need to share that information with the guards.  “I want to know what’s going on over there on Spoon Island.”

Alex instinctively stepped back when the two men shifted as one.  But they merely moved aside to allow several of their fellow guards passage from the newly arrived launch.  The heavily armed, dark-suited men formed a protective circle around a figure very familiar to Alex.

“Monsignor Eymard?”

The Catholic bishop gave Alex a nod of recognition, but did not pause to respond.  He made his way amid the circle of armed guards to a waiting limousine and was assisted inside.  The big limo pulled smoothly away from the docks and turned left out of sight.

“Alright,” Alex barked at the two guards.  He was genuinely alarmed by that point.  “I want to know what the hell is going on.”

The twin guards stepped aside, leaving clear the path to the waiting launch.  “Go ahead,” the man on the left announced.  His twin added, “You are expected at Wyndemere.”

Continued