Chapter One Hundred Fourty-Eight:
The Great Escape

Train Station Wash Room, Rome.

Emily stares at herself in the mirror wondering if there is some earthly way for the circles under her eyes to be darker. It doesn't matter how she blends the make-up, she still looks like an extra from a Marilyn Manson video. She cocks her head to one side, her mind flitting across the facts of the day. It's a Saturday, she realizes… She has an essay due on Monday. A big one too. So big she'd even started it… all about the Robespierre. At one point, she was certain, it had been important.

She sighs, leaning her hip against the counter and occupies herself with sharpening her eye pencil as she takes in her reflection. Her hair is still wet, having been washed in the sink, and it sticks to her skin in strips. Her eyes, highlighted by her attempts to make herself look less like the living dead, look larger than usual, boring into her reflection. She's still dressed in the jeans, but has dumped the shirt and T-shirt on top of the bag in the locker outside, and is now wearing the sundress, still tucked into the jeans, one strap sliding off her shoulder. She's feeling as mean as she looks, gripped by an emotion that had been evading her. She'd known all along that it was easier to focus on Lucky, to be angry or frustrated with him than to REALLY think about what she thought of Helena Cassadine.

The fact was, she was now realizing, she'd never hated anyone like this since Dorman. The only reason she had put Dorman at the top of the list was because she had never had to face Helena, to talk to her. She'd never been taunted by the woman, or had her snarling names at her like Dorman had. But now that had changed. She'd talked to her. Heard the lilt in her voice as she made statements that sounded innocuous but made her blood run cold. She hadn't wanted to think about it. She hadn't wanted to think that being here had anything to do with her anger. But, she feels powerfully, it does. She had one relative left and the woman exterminated her, with all the concern you'd give a spider with half the squeamishness.

She wasn't going to let this woman get away with it. She wasn't going to be frightened or intimidated. There was only one person left for her to take away now. She wouldn't be bothered with the Quartermaines, so any havoc she could still wreck on her life all fell on Lucky. Emily shakes her head, pushing the hair out of her face. No way. She feels like there is a chord of steel inside her, running from the top of her head down to the ground. It's nothing she's ever felt before, but with it comes a feeling of power. Like she's being thrown a challenge and she knows there's no way in hell she's going to back away from it.

Emily leans over the counter, drawing a careful line under her eye, letting her mind return to the task at hand. She'd reevaluated the original plan. She still had to appear different from Emily Quartermaine… that was clear… but *how* didn't matter to her now. Helena knew who she was, and she couldn't hide from her anymore. As long as Stefan's guard… who wouldn't be taking any pictures in a museum… didn't know who she was, she didn't care.

She'd also decided against buying the train tickets in advance. At least her stuff was secured here, she wasn't going to buy a ticket early and risk having Helena find out about it. The simple fact that she hadn't seen anything yesterday and now Helena knew that she was in Italy. Knew the name on her passport… she didn't even want to think about how they were going to get around that one… and knew that Lucky wasn't with her. She wasn't going to assume the woman didn't know everything.

Emily straightens up, coldly capping the eye pencil, and returns to the examination of her hair. She pulls her brush out of her purse and starts to run it through her hair. The one thing she was simply not going to think about was the idea that Helena knew where Lucky was. She'd decided, by the fact that Helena was dealing with her at all, that she didn't know anything. And she wasn't going to question it any further. He had to be there. They would arrive in Brindisi, they would find the place Lucky was talking about, and they would solve everything. It was the only choice and she wasn't going to waste her time thinking about other options. God, Lucky had been right about that. No point in worrying.

Emily smiles to herself slightly, as she remembers some of the things Lucky had said to her in the last twenty-four hours before her left. He trusted her. He trusted her exactly the way she always wanted him to … and she wasn't going to let him down. She twists her hair up high on top of her head and secures it with a clip. Still damp, and much shorter than she's used to, it falls around her head in a strange spiky way. She shakes her head violently and laughs. It looks nothing like her. Perfect.

Turning on her heel, Emily walks away from her reflection and goes off in search of sustenance.

The Docks, Brindisi.

Theo Marfoglia is leaning on a railing overlooking the docks, watching the lines of people boarding the Ferry to Patras. Tourists upon tourists, pointing things out, looking around… As a group, tourists always look the same. He glances down at his watch, wondering where the kid has got to. He'd already met the men he'd be dealing with and the overall reaction, on both sides had been subdued. Since Theo's Greek is somewhat lacking, the conversation had been stilted on his part, as well. But it was all arrange. Passage for three to Eyio, a small port just past Patra. This seemed to sit well with him… whoever he was. The one thing the kid would absolutely not part with was his name… first or otherwise. The sort of paranoia people with names like Dave and John didn't suffer from. It was no matter. In less than twelve hours, he'd be gone forever.

Glancing up, Theo sees Lucky coming down the walk, watching the ground rather than the water, and looking… off-kilter. As if something isn't quite right. He approaches Theo, and comes to stand beside him, leaning against the railing in the same manner and looking out at the water.

Theo: You're back.

Lucky: (flatly) Yeah. (Theo studies his face, then looks back out at the dock)

Theo: They took to you.

Lucky: Right… Because they didn't slit my throat? Yeah, I guess they took to me.

Theo: Americans… Tend not to be so popular outside of America. Be lucky for whatever pleasantries they afford you.

Lucky: I am. Trust me, I know exactly what people think of Americans all over this globe.

Theo: Yeah, well. Don't mess with the language barrier, you'll be fine.

Lucky: No, it's not a problem. My brother speaks Greek. (He runs his fingers through his hair quickly)

Theo: Then what's with the face? (Lucky narrows his eyes, not wanting to talk about it. He doesn't even want to think about it, though his mind is all ready about ten steps ahead of him)

Lucky: Something's not where I left it.

Theo: I thought you were making a phone call.

Lucky: I was.

Theo: Huh. Lost track of somebody?

Lucky: What time is it?

Theo: Nine.

Lucky: (looking back at the water) Not a big deal. (He puts his hand to his head) It's what… How many hours here by train?

Theo: Depends on where you're coming from.

Lucky: I'll figure it out.

Theo: (laughing) You know, Morgan taught you well. You play it pretty close to the vest, don't you?

Lucky: I did that before Morgan.

Theo: Never met a guy more reticent than him. Man… when Corinthos first showed up with that guy… (Lucky looks up sharply)

Lucky: You know Sonny?

Theo: Of course. Surprised you do. How long's he been gone now?

Lucky: Almost three years.

Theo: Making you at the rip old age of fifteen.

Lucky: Man… You really get hung up on that age thing, don't you?

Theo: I deal with a lot of people coming through these parts. Most a little more talkative than you, but not much. But they got a first name. And yeah, they have a few years on you.

Lucky: How'd you know Sonny?

Theo: Suddenly the boy's curious!

Lucky: It was just a question.

Theo: What does it matter?

Lucky: I don't know. It doesn't. Maybe I'm feeling nostalgic. (Theo smirks)

Theo: Nostalgic.

Lucky: You mention my age one more time, and I swear…

Theo: I'm dropping it. When does your entourage arrive.

Lucky: Around four. (He turns around, leaning his back against the railing) If they aren't here by four then… (He shakes his head)

Theo: You're worried.

Lucky: (firmly) No. (He looks up at the sky) I don't worry. It's a waste of time.

Theo: I agree.

Lucky: Besides, there's no point until after four. (Theo nods slowly, taking him in)

Theo: This have anything to do with Morgan's sister? (Lucky doesn't say anything a long moment)

Lucky: It might.

Theo: Well, if it does, I'll do whatever I can. I owe Corinthos, which means I owe Morgan. (Lucky nods) Corinthos is the reason I got back here. I'm still… In a bit of trouble back stateside.

Lucky: I figured. Once I heard the accent.

Theo: I figure the same thing about you.

Lucky: I have no idea what kind of trouble I'm in back there. I didn't stop to find out. (He turns back and looks out at the water again)

Theo: Cops?

Lucky: Maybe. (He laughs in spite of himself) Hell, I guess I'll find out one day.

Theo: I take it that wasn't why you left.

Lucky: (slowly) No… No. It might have something to do with whether or not I go back.

Theo: I can understand that.

Lucky: I'm not used to that… (He shakes his head) That's one thing I never had to decide to do. Go back some place I've already been.

Theo: I'm assuming you're from Port Charles. (Lucky sighs. There's no real way to avoid that. The fact is, this guy wouldn't have to try too hard to find out who he is).

Lucky: How deep is this debt to Corinthos?

Theo: Pretty damn deep. I owe him the life you see here.

Lucky: Yeah. Well… that's why I won't answer your questions, ok? Don't take it personally. I can tell you're loyal, but… Not to me.

Theo: To Morgan's friends, sure I am.

Lucky: What about Corinthos' friends?

Theo: Even more so.

Lucky: There you go.

Theo: You wanna give me a hint here?

Lucky: (heavily) Ok… This is what I'm thinking. I leave… Days, even weeks pass… If somehow a guy shows up, a friend of Corinthos'… looking for me… You're going to tell him where I went.

Theo: Corinthos and Morgan are simpatico, as far as I know.

Lucky: Not here. This might be the one place they wouldn't be. (He looks back at him) I count Sonny as a friend. I haven't seen him in three years, but I'll always count him as a friend. Morgan too. But… (He sighs heavily) It goes like this. Morgan does what he thinks is best for business always. The only time he changes his tune is when he hears different from Sonny. Morgan knows where I am, for right now. And no one else does. But if Sonny asked, Jason would tell him.

Theo: Who do you think is looking for you?

Lucky: No one I want to see. (He looks over at Theo) Personal problem.

Theo: Hey, as far as I know, you got on that boat, and went wherever it took you.

Lucky: Not good enough.

Theo: No?

Lucky: I'm asking you… if you get asked who was with me… If any of this comes up… if you could forget about seeing my brother, I'd appreciate it.

Theo: Consider if forgotten. You got my word on that.

Lucky: I'll take what I can get.

Rome National Museum, Lobby.

Nikolas circles the lobby for the third time, beginning to get impatient. He made sure he didn't appear until five minutes after noon, to cut down on waiting, and now, he's paid the admission and is hovering in the rooms on either side of the lobby knowing that he's being just this side of obvious.

He's followed everything she's said to the letter. But the fact that Lucky is no longer even in the city is weighing on him more than he'd like. He's not sure what it means, for starters. Emily had been vague on his reasons and he didn't know what to make of it. If that mean that she didn't agree with him, but was keeping it to herself, or if she didn't think he had to know anything. Either way, it was unnerving. Partially the fact that every time he saw her she seemed less like Emily and more like… He wasn't even sure. Now, she's not even here. After stressing how important it was that they get out of Rome as soon as possible.

Nikolas averts his eyes from a painting, back to the lobby, just in time to see Emily descending the marble staircase that leads up to the second floor. He blinks, taking a moment to realize it really is her. She doesn't look anything like he's ever seen her. Aside from the fact that her appearance is remarkably out of character. She looks… Taller, if that's possible. Out of place. Immediately noticeable. At the same time, if he hadn't KNOWN she was going to be here, he wouldn't have picked her out. Still, it set him immediately on guard.

Emily crosses to the information desk and leans across it, talking the man behind it. Nikolas starts towards her, then stops, noticing her body language. Coming down the stairs she was intimidating, cold. Now she appears to be almost flirting with the information guy. Nikolas shakes his head. This is not comforting. This is nothing like the square the day before. Something must have happened.

Emily turns and starts back across the lobby. Nikolas, deciding this attitude is getting him nowhere, starts towards her. She makes brief eye contact, then moves past him, without a word.

Nikolas stares after her a moment, wondering just what the hell is going on now. He can't keep up with these people. He can, however, take a hint. He glances around, then follows Emily up the stares. She's a flight and a half ahead of him, not looking back at him. She reaches the top of the steps as he hits the first landing, and wanders into the main room at the top of the stairs.

Nikolas pauses on the stairs, feeling like he's only barely keeping up with this. He wishes he knew what was going on. He's not even sure if he can approach her now. He shakes his head and follows her path the rest of the way up the stairs and into the main room.

Emily is standing in the center of the room, looking at a Grecian Urn that is on a pedestal behind a circle of velvet ropes. Nikolas turns and starts looking at the paintings along the wall, waiting a moment. The room is surprisingly crowded, mostly concerned the attention the urn is getting. He glances over at it again. It really just looks like any urn of that variety. He approaches, coming to stand just behind Emily. She stands up straighter, seemingly aware of his presence.

Nik: Nice.

Em: (not looking at him) It's not here because it's nice. (Nikolas glances over at her)

Nik: Then why is it here?

Em: It's the urn Keats wrote “Ode to a Grecian Urn” about. (she crosses her arms protectively) So it's more about being an inspiration than being a particularly startling work of art. (She turns to face him, her eyes dead. Nikolas steps on the urge he has to take a step back from her.) It's on loan. (Nikolas stares at her a long moment)

Nik: (quietly) Can I talk to you?

Em: (same hushed tone) You have to at some point.

Nik: What happened? (Emily shrugs and looks back at the urn)

Em: It's not important. (She sighs) I've been looking at this thing all morning.

Nik: And?

Em: And… I'm working on a theory.

Nik: Uh huh.

Em: See the emergency exit?

Nik: Hard to miss.

Em: Keep close to it. (Nikolas nods realizing that, whatever this is about, he should probably just let her go to it. He just wishes she didn't seem so tense. He turns and walks away, noting as he does so, that one of Stefan's guards has just entered. He nods at the man who returns the gesture. He was on speaking terms with the three men he'd spotted so far… not having been surprised to find them, but letting them know they didn't have to fight with him, or pretend they weren't there.

Emily stares at the urn until the figures on it start to blur. She can hear people chattering around her, some in English, some in Italian. She glances down at her watch. There's no point in putting this off anymore. She looks over at Nikolas, who appears, for all the world, to be engrossed in a paint two over to the left of the exit. Everything is in place, as much as it can be.

Stepping back from the velvet rope, Emily reaches into her purse and pulls out two sticks of gum. She unwraps them slowly, glancing up at the circular light fixture that shines down directly on the urn. She smiles slightly, popping the gum into her mouth, and remembering some high school field trip to an art museum back in grade ten or eleven. It wasn't all that long after she and Lucky had started dating, and in the course of the day she'd managed to tell Lucky just about everything she knew about art… which wasn't all that impressive, and mostly came from Edward's acquisitions… meaning, she knew more about expensive and pricey pieces than she knew about anything modern or avant guarde. Lucky, on the other hand, had known about the security. Why, she didn't even want to ask, but he'd pointed out things like motion sensors to her and now it was actually coming in handy. There was more protecting this urn than velvet ropes.

Emily pushes the gum in her mouth to the front of her teeth and spits it into the foil wrapper. She rolls it up, into a small but weighted ball, and backs up towards Nikolas and the door. Noting that Emily is approaching him, Nikolas moves over to study the painting closer to the door. Emily notices this and makes one final glance around the room, just in time to see a man enter the room.

Emily feels herself flash cold with the recognition of the man who followed her after her first meeting with Nikolas. The second one. The only one that had really succeeded in scaring her. He catches her eye upon entering and Emily smiles at him sweetly waving her fingertips. The man stares at her coldly, then looks away. Emily makes another cursory search around the room. She can't tell who is Stefan's man. She suspects he has more than one, and she doesn't recognize anything else. She looks back at Helena's man who is making his way towards the urn, while watching Nikolas out of the corner of his eye. She watches him carefully, waiting for his attention to move elsewhere, just for a moment. Sure enough, after a few moments of looking at the urn, he glances down at the museum map in his hand. Emily takes the opportunity to fire her foil and gum wrapper ball at the urn, aiming over the heads of the patrons, so that it sails through the light of the motion sensitive overhead alarm, almost unnoticed.

The alarm, shrill and LOUD goes off immediately. Emily turns the second she hears it, so quickly she sees Nikolas jump and turn to see what's happened. She grabs his arm and Nikolas immediately refocuses and pulls her with him towards the door. The opening of the door sets off a second alarm that is overshadowed by the first. Emily dashes for the stairs, tossing a look at Nikolas over her shoulder)

Em: Run. (Nikolas, not needing the encouragement, follows her at easily twice her speed. Still a slave to basic chivalry, he doesn't allow himself to pass her, just stays one step behind as she flies down the staircase. At the bottom she wrenches the door, which leads to a back alley open and feels her knees buckle when she hits the fresh air, but Nikolas, right behind her, hooks an arm around her waist and pulls her with him down the alley. Emily has a moment of confusion, then stumbles along with him, following his instinct to get as far from the museum as humanly possible. The come out of the alley and into the Piazzo Massimo… another crowd. The crowd here, not exposes to the clanging of the alarm, is much more sedate, and Emily feels Nikolas' hand close around hers, leading her through the square. She's still feeling disoriented, though she has no idea why. Lack of sleep, she realizes, must be catching up to her. The adrenaline seems to be abandoning her early. She lets Nikolas pull her along until she spots an alley. She stops short, and Nikolas, noticing this, looks back at her. Emily looks over her shoulder, then pulls Nikolas towards the alleyway. She drops his hand and starts to run along the pathway, to the next street. Nikolas follows, once again keeping an eye on her, noticing that she seems to be flagging. One on the next street over Emily reverts to a fast-paced walk. They head along this street until they hit another alley and Emily ducks into it, Nikolas following close behind. In the alley, Emily collapses against the wall, breathing heavily. Nikolas approaches her with concern.

Nik: Are you going to tell me what's going on now? (Emily closes her eyes, trying to catch her breath)

Em: Give me your wallet.

Nik: What?

Em: (impatient) Come ON! (Nikolas, noting that Emily is bearing very little resemblance the girl he's used to, pulls his wallet out of his pocket and hands it to her)

Nik: Here.

Em: Thanks. (She opens it quickly, pulling out the money, and flipping through it quickly for anything else that might be of importance. Nikolas, watching, noticed the friction burns on the inside of her wrists and the forming bruises on her lower arms. She glances up, catching him looking at them. They lock eyes a moment, then Emily drops his wallet to the ground and kicks it aside.) Come on. (She starts down the alley)

Nik: (following again) Em…

Em: I'll explain on the way to the train. (Nikolas reaches out and grabs her arm, spinning her to face hi)

Nik: EMILY! Are you ok?

Em: (agitated) I'm fine. But I won't be if we hang around here long enough to get caught.

Nik: We're not going to get caught…

Em: You don't KNOW that! (Nikolas drops her arm in surprise, then nods)

Nik: (softly) Ok. Fine, come on. (Nikolas starts down the alley, taking her hand. She holds it tightly, following him) Tell me on the way.

Em: (shakily) All I have to say right now is that I'm not going to be good company on the train. I'm sleeping all the way to Brindisi.