Stefan and Luke shoved at the old door, which had been exposedafter Stefan toggled a lever hidden in the stones of the cavewall.

"Stubborn sonofabitch, isn't it?" remarked Luke.

"It hasn't been used in several years," replied Stefan. "Perhapsthe hinges have rusted."

"Or maybe Helena found it and had the entrance sealed off andwe're trapped down here like rats in a sewer."

"Spencer, I hope that your prognostic skills are as refined asyour eloquence ..."

The door finally gave way, groaning loudly as the ancient metalhinges scraped against each other.

"So much for the subtle approach," muttered Luke.

"It shouldn't be this dark down here," said Stefan. "Hand me theflashlight." He aimed the beam at the circuit box, and then swept thelight toward the generator. "Well, it looks as if you have your wish.The power has already been cut."

"Yeah, but by who?"

"I don't know. Perhaps the WSB arrived first."

Luke paused for a moment and shook his head. "I don't like this.It's too quiet. My gut tells me there's something really wrong here."He moved to the stairway, climbing the steps two at a time.

"Spencer!" Stefan called after him in sotto voce. "What are youdoing?"

"All bets are off, Cassadine. We wing it from here."

"Damn you, Spencer...." Stefan clutched the bannister and gaspedat the pain that shot through his injured leg when he mounted thefirst step. He shifted as much weight as he could to his left leg,but his progress was considerably slower than his companion's, and hewatched helplessly as Luke disappeared
through the doorway at the top of the stairs.

Luke rounded a corner and saw a faint, yellowish light spillingout of the room at the end of the hallway. He moved quietly, huggingthe wall, until he reached the arch leading into the front room. Hecrouched down low, inching forward until he could see into the room... and paused, feeling fear seep through his limbs in a coldichorous current, at the sight of Helena Cassadine.

She was positively glowing, looking magnificent poised in herchair. But it was a dangerous luminescence, like a sun about to turnnova.

"Luke, I know that you're there."

Of course she did, thought Luke. She had that same sense ofheightened reality that allows the doomed to experience entirelifetimes in their final moments. She could not only see him, shecould see through him, to whatever lay beyond the confines of herexistence. Feeling that it was pointless to hide from her any longer,Luke stood and stepped into the doorway, the arch framing his form,his revolver preceding him.

"Helena," he said, "you're looking quite ... fit."

"Why, thank you, Luke. I'm pleased that you noticed."

"I see you're without entourage. Where's your hired help?"

"Their presence was no longer required..."

"Does that mean the game is almost over?"

She sighed. "Perhaps."

"C'mon Helena, the fat lady's hittin' a high 'C'. Hand over thechildren and drop the curtain."

Helena reached into the folds of her dress, withdrew a key chainand held it at arms length, "Is this what you want, Luke? You knowthat I have always dreamed of being in a position to grant you yourheart's desire."

Luke took a tentative step forward, and then stopped when he sawthe barrel of the musket quiver, reasserting its aim. "You know thatNikolas isn't Stavros' son, don't you?" he asked.

"Yes."

"And you know that you have no chance of ever planting yourself onthe Russian throne..."

"Yes."

"Then why the hell are you dragging this out? You can'twin..."

"Because I so enjoy watching you beg, Luke. Have you never heardthe phrase: 'Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven'?"

"Milton, mother? You surprise me. You always said that he was sucha bore." Stefan's voice shattered the ethereal nature of the moment.He smiled at the astonished look on his mother's face as he joinedLuke in the archway, wielding the luckless guard's revolver andaiming it squarely at his mother.

"Stefan? You surprise me. As for Milton, I have always said thesame about you... perhaps I was mistaken ..."

"You were mistaken about a great many things," Stefanreplied.

Her eyes traveled from man to man. "So it would appear." Shesmiled at Luke. "You disappoint me, Luke. I must have underestimatedyour zealous devotion to your wife."

"Give it up, Helena. Hand over the keys," said Luke. "Your prettylittle weapon there can only be fired once. It's gonna to be toughkilling two birds with one stone."

She nodded, although her gesture was not one of acquiescence."Yes, I was mistaken," she said. "Perhaps Milton wasn't such a boreafter all: 'What though the field be lost? All is not lost; theunconquerable will, and study of revenge, immortal hate, and couragenever to submit or yield...'" And in a motion swifter than the pathsof two answering bullets, she pointed the musket at the old gas lightfixture above her head, and fired.

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