A/n: Happy start of the holiday season Y'all! Remember me? it's been a jam packed summer for me, beginning with my sister in law's wedding in July, driving to Texas from NY with 3 yowling cats in the back seat immediately after the reception(literally) and getting used to the Texas definition of 'summer'( 110 in the shade and zero humidity or precipitation). Luckily the Texas definition of 'winter' is far less annoying. Here it is the week before Thanksgiving and it's 70 out.

This is a very short tale, probably no more than 5 chapters and quite probably less than that.

Countdown

Joe Hardy approached the back door facing the dock so quietly his partner Joanna never heard a sound and practically jumped out of her skin when he laid a light hand on her shoulder in the darkness. Ordinarily, at this point, Joe would crack some joke about scaring her or being afraid of the dark, but not tonight. Tonight he was as grim faced as she had ever seen him, far more serious than even his brother Frank ever got, which was pretty darn solemn at times. "Anything?" he whispered close to her ear.

Joanna shook her head. "Two went in about half an hour ago. I can hear their cell phones going off every so often, but can't make out any conversation." she whispered quietly.

"So we don't have confirmation." It wasn't a question. Jo shook her head no. "Now what?" the younger Hardy brother asked.

"On my way in I saw a window with a few broken panes. I can see if I can sneak inside to get a look around."

Joe shook his head. "Too risky. They might follow through if they see or hear anything."

"Then what do you suggest?" she asked tartly.

"Draw them out here. Something that would convince all of them to come out. Are you absolutely sure there are only 2?"

"No. I only saw 2 go in but that doesn't mean there aren't more. There are a few cars around in front."

"Well why don't we take away their means of escape then?!" Joe grinned in the dark, his pearly white teeth practically shining.

"How?! Letting the air out of their tires?!" she snarked.

"I was thinking it was a little chilly out here tonight. We could use a little warmth." was the slightly impish reply.

Joanna gaped at him for a moment, then shook her head as she smiled ruefully. "Pyro." she said fondly.

"You know you love me." he said cheerfully. "Give me ten minutes." and he disappeared into the darkness.

On his way around the building, Joe sent a quick text to his brother letting him know they were in position but hadn't confirmed anything yet. Cautiously, he stepped out into the parking lot of the warehouse, making sure to avoid the lone street light. His own car was parked over by Joanna's, which had been left by the guard shack at the security gate of the Warehouse section of the Port Terminal. That left three cars, conveniently parked in a neat little row. Joe took a quick glimpse into all three, looking for any obvious signs that one of them didn't belong to their suspects. Two cars had definite signs of being recently driven, while the third looked to be abandoned, as evidenced by a slightly flat left rear tire and the amount of grime all over. Joe popped the trunk of that one and smiled in satisfaction when he found a gas can at least half full and enough rags to get the party started. A quick break in of the driver's side door and search yielded a disposable lighter buried in the glove box.

Joe then doused all the rags with gasoline before placing a few in the back seat of the abandoned car as well as one of the others, which had been carelessly left unlocked. The remainder of the rags were stuffed into the tailpipe of the center car. Then Joe returned to the other two and lit a rag from each back seat before tossing it back, allowing the pile of them to catch fire. He then quickly knelt down and lit the tailpipe pieces before high tailing it out of there back to his partner's location.

This time she didn't jump when he placed his hand on her shoulder. Instead she just gave him an inquiring look. Joe whispered softly "Any minute now." They both crouched in place another few minutes before a sharp explosion rent the air. From their vantage point behind the building they couldn't see anything except a large plume of thick black smoke rising as it rolled over into a mushroom shape. "Three, Two, One" Joe whispered as he backed away from the door.

Both of them ducked even lower as the door flew open with a bang and two men ran out cursing and made their way around the building. Joe silently thanked the architect who designed this warehouse with only one door (not counting the loading bays which faced the dock and water) and their foresight in placing it on this side as opposed to the side facing the parking lot. He further thanked the weather, which was overcast without being too chilly despite the time of year. This allowed him and his partner to follow their suspects without detection around the corner.

Both men, burly and middle aged but gone to fat and wheezing from being out of breath, had stopped short at the sight of three cars in various stages of melting, Their friends Gloria and Bruce would have called them carbecues. It took Joanna and Joe less than a minute to knock both men out from behind and secure them with the zip ties that Joe now carried with him everywhere. They would have stayed to enjoy their success, but the smoke and acrid fumes were causing them to cough, plus they had more important things to do. Leaving their victims trussed up a fair distance away from the flames, they ran back around the corner and cautiously entered the warehouse.

Joanna had a small flashlight, which she now turned on, but left it pointing down and shielded it with a hand. "I don't suppose you know where to go?" she whispered almost silently.

"Nope." Joe returned equally low. "Stick together, just in case we are dealing with the Three Stooges and not just Butch and Sundance." Luckily, like most dockside warehouses the one they were currently skulking about was littered with enough large crates and boxes to offer ample cover. By instinct they headed towards the middle of the giant room where they found a single overhead light dimply illuminating their destination. Both darted forward, only to abruptly freeze as a third figure stepped out from the shadows and pointed a gun at them. "Oh goodie. It's Moe." Joe muttered disgustedly under his breath. Joanna elbowed him to keep quiet.

The man was taller than Joe and wider than both of them together. Unfortunately, Joe noticed immediately that it was neither fat nor flab. He was solid and looked to be in fit shape. Oh well, he sighed silently. They can't all be couch potatoes. He stood tense but alert next to his partner, who mirrored his stance. "In case you were curious," Joe said lightly, "Your pals will not be joining us for the rest of this evenings' festivities."

"No matter." his voice was smooth. "It's not like you can stop me anyway."

"I was planning on doing just that, actually." Joe responded with steel in his voice. Beside him, Joanna moved slightly to her right, widening the gap between them. Two targets were harder to hit than one. Hopefully the man in front of them would unconsciously do what many did, underestimate the female.

Over the last couple of years, as Joe and Joanna spent more time together in the field, they began to notice a pattern when confronting targets. Joe was a shade over six feet tall, muscular without being stocky and had an uppercut that rivaled any pro boxer on the circuit. Jonna was slender, only five foot six on a good day and looked young. Sometimes they went for Joe, figuring Joanna would be ineffectual in a fight. Others times they went after her, thinking she couldn't defend herself. Often, when faced by several thugs, the majority would concentrate on Joe, leaving only one or two for Joanna to dispose of. Which she usually did, having 2 black belts, was working on a third and had no problem fighting dirty when the situation called for it. And then she was free to 'help' Joe( never rescue. Never ever rescue. His ego would not accept that) finish off the rest of them. As a team, they were very good together, almost as good as Joe and Frank. But Frank preferred the office portion of the job and seldom joined in field operations any more. He'd pull an occasional stake out when Joanna's family life precluded her participation, but that was about it. As a result, the Jo(e) Twins, as Sam had christened them, spent a good deal of their professional lives together and had learned to read each other's body language as well as be able to predict how things would go down. Joe swore he was always right, but Joanna acidly noticed how he never actually mentioned his prediction until AFTER the fight was over.

Today was no different. The two parties sized each other up, and when the guy with the gun made his move, it was towards Joe. Joe grinned that smug grin he was so famous for. This was going to be easy. That half step in his direction was all Joanna needed to pull her own gun into position and fire. That she chose to aim for the thug's gun hand and not a knee, shoulder or center mass was just her way of showing off. The man yelped in surprise and pain as he dropped his gun within range of Joe's foot, which he used to skate the gun across the floor before delivering the coup de gras. The man dropped like a stone. As Joanna holstered her weapon, Joe knelt down to secure the man's hands, now slick with blood, behind him with a zip tie. Leaning in to the man's head, he whispered "Always stay on a lady's good side, Pal." giving a quick grin to his partner, Joe stood up and they both headed towards the lone chair sitting in the middle of the empty space.

They were facing the back, so could not get a good glimpse of the figure there, whom they sincerely hoped was the daughter of the District Attorney, kidnapped over a week ago in an attempt to convince her father to drop certain charges against certain unsavory characters. By tacit agreement, they split up and approached the front from either side. At first glance they both breathed a sigh of relief. It was her, and she was alive and conscious. Their second glance stopped them cold.

Tightly secured to the girl's chest was an assortment of wires, electrodes and explosives. With a timer that read fifty eight minutes.

A/n: have not lost my cliff hanger touch!