Chapter Seven
Forgetting that Con had told him to wait, forgetting to call the fire brigade, forgetting that these were dangerous men, forgetting everything, Chet Morton ran. He ran like he had never ran in his life before.
Siren's wailed somewhere in the distance but Chet was oblivious to them. His breath was coming in short, piercing gasps and his heart was pounding as he egged himself on. Come on, Chet, run! That's it, you can do it! One foot in front of the other! Run!
"I can't!" Chet gasped, his pace slowing.
You can, you have to! Frank and Joe are counting on you!
"Arrrrrrrghhhh!" Chet grunted and forced himself forward. His head throbbed dizzily and blood pounded in his ears. The end of the dock came in sight.
Nearly there, he told himself, trying to ignore the pangs in his chest. Come on, Chet, you can do it; Frank and Joe need help!
Fear helped him run the last few feet and as he rounded the corner and skidded to a halt, the boy tripped and tumbled to the ground. Gasping and panting, Chet looked up…and felt his mouth drop open in shock.
An inferno raged before him, flames dancing upwards towards the sky. The night air was thick with smoke and the smell of gasoline. Shock immobilized Chet.
The boy was still on his hands and knees several minutes later as two fire engines rushed past and screeched to a halt in front of the burning warehouse. Chet was only dimly aware of firefighters pouring from the trucks and springing into action. Disjointed shouts carried towards him over the roar of the flames but Chet remained senseless to the mayhem around him.
"Son, are you okay?"
Chet looked up, uncomprehending, at a tall fireman.
"I said, are you okay?" asked the man, his face a mask of concern.
Chet shook his head and whispered, "Frank…Joe."
"Who's Frank and Joe?" the man asked gently, crouching down beside him.
"My friends."
"Your friends? Where−" Understanding flooded the firefighter's face and his gentle tone disappeared in an instant. "Are you saying your friends are in there?"
Chet nodded dumbly.
In a flash, the fireman was on his feet and sprinting back towards the trucks shouting urgently. Chet, still on his hands and knees, watched as a gush of water hit the building and several firefighters disappeared into the flames. Another fire engine wailed past him followed closely by an ambulance.
"Chet, what's going on?" Hands grabbed him and pulled him to his feet before the concerned face of Con Riley came into view. "Are you okay? Where's Frank and Joe?"
Chet lifted a trembling finger and pointed towards the glowing building.
The colour drained from Con's face. "Oh, dear God."
The officer didn't ask any more questions. He and Chet stood side by side watching in mute horror as firefighters battled the blaze. It seemed an eternity before a team of firefighters emerged empty handed from the building and passed over quickly to the waiting team who immediately plunged into the howling flames.
Several minutes passed and Chet thought he might be sick. "I should have called for help sooner," he whispered.
"What?" said Con, hearing the teenager speak. "What was that, Chet?"
Chet shook his head, and Con noticed how pale he was beneath his smoke-smeared face. "I should have called for help sooner," the teenager repeated softly, his eyes never leaving the burning building.
"Chet, this isn't your fault," Con tried to soothe the anguished teen.
Chet shook his head again. "I shouldn't have let them go."
"You couldn't have stopped them. Frank and Joe can be pretty stubborn when they put their minds to something."
Chet wasn't listening. "If anything happens, it's my fault. I should have known!"
Excited shouting prevented Con from responding and they turned just in time to see firefighters exiting the building. One of them had a limp form slung over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. "We've got a live one!" he shouted.
Chet and Con immediately broke into a run. They reached the fireman just as he lowered the limp form onto a gurney. "Stand back!" a paramedic ordered before turning back to where his colleague was placing an oxygen mask on the still figure.
"Come on guys, give them room to work," said the firefighter who had carried out the injured boy, holding up his hands in a pacifying yet blocking gesture.
"We just want to see…" Chet tried to explain as the firefighter's stance forced them back several paces.
"Just give them a few minutes," the firefighter told him gently.
"Is he okay?" Chet whispered.
Even through his oxygen mask, Chet could see the man's sympathetic expression. "He's alive," was all he said. As the man hurried to rejoin his company fighting the blaze, Chet returned his attention to the gurney where the paramedics were working frantically.
Broken fragments of what they were saying floated back to Chet over the roar of the flames. "CT scan…more gauze…partial thickness burns…pulse rate…" Just then, one of the paramedics moved and Chet was able to get a view of the person on the gurney. It was Frank. His heart plunged so fast, it hurt.
The older Hardy boy's left arm was badly burnt, and the blistered, scalded flesh made Chet feel ill. Con Riley looked equally revolted.
When one of the paramedics went to retrieve something from the ambulance, Chet took the opportunity to move a little closer. "Frank?" he whispered, but got no response. The paramedic returned and brushed past him, barely seeing him as he continued to work on Frank. Chet moved to the head of the gurney so he could be near Frank without getting in the paramedics' way. As he looked down at his friend's unconscious face, Chet noticed the open wound on the right side of his head. It was large and bleeding so profusely that his hair was matted. Chet swallowed. Hard. He had no first aid training but even he knew enough to see that Frank was in bad shape.
A loud wrenching sound filled the air and Chet looked up just in time to see several firemen run from the building. In fact, they all seemed to be running away from the building. Chet didn't understand why; although still burning, the warehouse was no longer the raging inferno it had been when he arrived. A loud groan like an animal in pain rent the air and as the firefighters scattered, the warehouse started to collapse in on itself.
The roof was the first to go, smashing downwards in a cloud of smoke and dust before the upper walls began to crumble inwards and debris rained to the ground. The collapsing brickwork smothered some of the flames but sent out a thick plume of acrid-smelling black smoke. The firefighters were still battling the flames but their movements were slower and less urgent as the fire came under control.
But there would be no more survivors pulled from the building.
Somewhere within his haze of shock, Chet could hear someone yelling but he couldn't hear what they were saying. The shouts of the people around him had merged into one loud din. The yelling grew louder and Chet was aware of his legs propelling themselves forwards without any participation from him. The only reality for him now was the building being slowly eaten by fire. His legs moved faster and the sound of someone calling a name cut through the din in his head.
"Joe!"
Something flung itself across his chest and Chet felt himself ping like a rubber band as he was brought to a halt. The boy struggled furiously to extricate himself from the person keeping a strong grip on him. He had to get away. He had to get to the building in front of him.
But the person refused to let go and Chet gradually became aware that it was he who was screaming. "JOE!" he roared, thrashing in the arms that held him there. "Let me go, we've got to save him. JOE! Let me GO!"
"Chet, no," the broken voice of Con Radley sounded behind him. "You can't save him. Chet…stop," he grunted as the stout boy continued to struggle. "Chet, it's too late…he's gone…CHET!" Slowly the boy became still in his arms and Con turned him around to face him. Chet stared blankly at him.
"Chet?" Con prompted softly. "Are you okay?" Mute, Chet shook his head and Con put his arm around the teenager's shoulders. "Come on," he said, sounding as though it hurt to speak. "Let's go back to Frank."
They moved slowly back to the ambulance. The paramedics had just finished attending to Frank and were getting ready to load him into the ambulance. "Is he okay?" the first paramedic asked, pointing to Chet as he and Con drew level with them.
The officer shook his head. "I think he's in shock."
"You'd better get him to the hospital," the paramedic told him.
Con nodded then glanced at Frank. "Will he be okay?"
"I don't know."
"Hey, he's awake!" the other paramedic exclaimed suddenly.
Con, Chet and the two paramedics bent over the gurney. Sure enough, Frank's eyes were open but Con noticed at once that they weren't focusing on anything. His lips moved beneath the oxygen mask.
"What was that, Frank?" he asked softly, leaning in closer.
"Not here…home," the boy mumbled.
"What's not here?" Con kept his tone low and gentle.
"Joe…home."
Con swallowed. "That's right, Joe's at home."
Briefly, Frank's eyes fixed on Con's in recognition before his gaze slid out of focus again. "No, Joe waiting."
"That's right, Joe's at home waiting," said Con soothingly. Frank shook his head then moaned in pain.
"Okay," the paramedic interrupted. "That's enough. We need to get him to the hospital now." The paramedics positioned themselves at either end of the gurney and gently pulled it into an upright position.
As they slowly rolled it towards the back of the ambulance, Con walked alongside Frank, his gaze never leaving the teenager's face. Frank's eyes were closed again but Con knew he was still conscious by the way his mouth was pulled taut over gritted teeth and the way his breathing was coming in the short jagged gasps of someone in pain.
The officer felt a hand seize his arm. Looking down, he could see Frank had latched the fingers of his good arm onto Con's shirt sleeve. "What is it, Frank?"
"Joe," Frank hissed through gritted teeth. "Waiting…for me."
"That's right," said Con, gently placing Frank's hand back on the gurney. "Joe's at home waiting for you."
"No!" The words were more ground out than spoken and Con could see agitation flit across Frank's pain-etched face. "Not home! Not…home."
"Frank, I don't understand," said Con softly. "What are you saying?"
"Joe…wait…for me…" Frank moaned in pain again.
They were at the back of the ambulance. "We need to load him, officer," said the paramedic. Con nodded and stepped back but Frank's eyes flew open.
"Here," he gasped, his expression desperate. "Joe…wait out…here…"
"Are you saying that Joe waited outside, Frank?" asked Con sharply, beginning to understand.
"Spinning," Frank mumbled then leaned over and vomited over the side of the gurney as the paramedic frantically tried to remove the oxygen mask.
"We need to get out of here now!" the other paramedic roared as Frank started to convulse. Con could do nothing but watch helplessly as they slid the gurney down and lifted it into the ambulance. The doors slammed shut and the ambulance pulled out, lights flashing and sirens wailing.
"Con?"
The officer turned around to find Chief Collig in plainclothes. "Officer Samson called me at home. I drove straight here. The Fire Chief just filled me in. Who did they pull from the fire?"
"Frank."
"Will he be okay?"
"I don't know. Where's Chet?"
"Over there," Chief Collig jerked his thumb in the direction of a forlorn figure standing still and staring at the remains of the still-burning warehouse. "You'd better get him to the hospital, I think he's in shock."
Con shook his head. "Chief, I need to find Joe."
"The firefighters will do a recovery when the fire is completely out," replied the Chief gently, his eyes sad. "They'll take Joe out then."
"No, you don't understand…Chief, I don't think Joe was in that building."
"What are you talking about? The Morton boy was a witness and he said−"
"He wasn't a witness!" Con interrupted him. "Chet waited somewhere further up the docks for Frank and Joe, he didn't see them enter the building!"
Chief Collig looked confused. "But he was here when you arrived. And Samson said Chet was the one to ring you and tell you the Hardy brothers were missing."
"No." Con's brain was whirling. "I rang Frank but Chet had his phone. He said the boys had tailed Beschastnykh from the station…I think he was somewhere further up the docks because he saw those guys leave and he said Frank and Joe had gone down the pier! Chet probably came running down here when he saw the fire and assumed both boys were inside!"
"What men? Who's…?" Chief Collig shook his head. "Never mind. Tell me later. What makes you think Joe wasn't in that building?"
"Frank said something. He wasn't very coherent but I think he was trying to tell me that Joe wasn't inside!"
"Then where is he?"
"He has to be around here somewhere," Con replied. "Chief, it makes sense! If Frank and Joe were both in that building then they would have been found together. Besides, they both know better than to enter a building without leaving someone outside on watch…I think Joe was out here somewhere on lookout."
"I'll organize the officers," said Chief Collig at once. "We'll do a sweep of this entire area."
"I'll get started over…" Con's voice trailed off as he caught sight of Chet. He had forgotten about him. "What about Chet?"
They both stared at the silent figure. "I'll take him to the hospital," Chief Collig offered quietly. "I need to call Laura Hardy anyway."
"What are you going to tell her?"
"Nothing until I know for sure what's happened." Con nodded and the police chief looked him squarely in the eyes. "Con, I'll want answers for all of this later, understand?"
"Yes, Sir."
xxx
Sam Radley's hands were still shaking when he rushed through the front door of Bayport General. He had been en-route to Washington for the second time in only a matter of days after a cryptic call from his contact at the bureau. Jake had found something but refused to discuss it over the phone, pleading with the detective to come to the capital immediately.
"Sam, this can't wait," he had insisted urgently.
Concerned, Sam had left for Washington at once. It was only when he stopped for gas and to check in with his wife and the Hardys that he realized his cell phone was dead. Frustrated Sam went in search of a payphone and called Ethel first. He was startled to be greeted by his wife's frantic tone.
"Why isn't your cell on?" she demanded.
"The battery died," he replied, bewildered. "Why? What's going on?"
"Frank Hardy is in the hospital and Joe's missing!" Ethel sobbed. "There was a huge fire down at the docks, an entire building was gutted! Chief Collig himself rang me…I couldn't get through to you!"
"Where is Chief Collig now?" Sam demanded, his mind racing. What the hell had happened? He had warned Frank and Joe not to do anything. "Have you talked to Con Riley?"
"Chief Collig is at the hospital," she replied shakily. "I haven't heard from Con."
"I'm coming back right now," he told her. "I'll call you from the hospital as soon as I have news."
The detective had left a panicked message for his FBI contact before jumping in his car and driving pell-mell back to Bayport.
"Sorry, sorry," he mumbled hurriedly to each person he bumped into as he rushed down the halls of the hospital. Skidding to a halt in front of the waiting room, Sam hurried in. "Chief Collig," he gasped, spotting the rotund Police Chief immediately. What's going on? How's Frank?"
"We don't know yet," the officer replied. "Sam, where have you been?"
"I'll explain later, where's Laura?"
"A doctor came to get her a while ago and she hasn't been back since," said Chief Collig, looking worried.
"Any sign of Joe?"
The Chief shook his head. "Not yet. My officers are searching the docks now."
Just then, Sam caught sight of Chet sitting silently in a seat behind Chief Collig. "Chet!" he cried. "What happened?"
The boy barely glanced at him and Chief Collig gently pushed Sam back. "Easy," he whispered. "The doctors have treated him for shock. I'm just waiting for the Mortons to arrive. We'll get the answers when he's ready," he added, as Sam opened his mouth to argue. "The boy needs time, Sam."
"What about Con?" Sam demanded, frustrated and wanting answers. "Where is he?"
"Still at the docks, searching for Joe. Sam, I can fill you in on what I know."
Quickly the Police Chief informed Sam about the Hardys and Chet tailing someone to the docks and what little he knew that had happened up until Frank's dramatic rescue and his words to Con before being loaded into the ambulance. "When Con gets back and Chet comes around, we'll get the full story," Chief Collig finished.
At that moment, the Mortons hurried into the waiting room. Mrs. Morton immediately threw herself on her son with a shriek and hugged him tightly while Mr. Morton gripped the Police Chief's hand tightly and greeted him in a low voice. But he never took his eyes off his son. Iola hovered silently behind her mother, biting her lip.
They were interrupted by a cackle as the PA system came to life and an announcement sounded. "Could Sam Radley please contact reception for a call. That's Sam Radley to reception for a call, please."
The others looked at him.
"It's probably Ethel looking for news," he explained. "My cell is dead. I'd better take it. I'll be back in a few minutes."
Striding out to the hall and moving swiftly towards the reception area, Sam knew the phone call wouldn't be from his wife. He had told Ethel he would call her as soon as he had news. "Hi," he greeted the receptionist at the desk. "I'm Sam Radley, I believe I have a phone call?"
"Of course, Mr. Radley," said the girl politely. "Just pick up that phone on the desk when it rings." The girl turned her attention to the switchboard and hit some buttons; seconds later the phone rang.
"Hello?" he answered.
"Sam?"
"Yes."
"It's Con. Meet me in the A & E." The line went dead leaving Sam staring at the receiver in his hand. Oh that can't be good.
"Thanks," he told the girl on the desk then turned and ran in the direction of the A & E department. Hurrying through the double doors, he found that the A & E was its usual hive of activity. He could see no sign of Con. "Excuse me," he said breathlessly to the orderly passing. "Have you seen a police officer? He may have come in here in the last few minutes."
The orderly shook his head.
"Okay, thank you." Sam headed for the double doors that opened out to the ambulance bay. Con was probably outside. He was almost to the doors when he heard someone call his name. Looking to his left, he saw Con slumped against a wall. Sam felt his heart skip a beat. The officer had blood on his white t-shirt.
"Con, what happened?" he exclaimed, dashing over to his friend. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," said Con wearily, waving him away. "It's not my blood."
"Whose…?"
"Joe's. That's why I paged you to come here, I didn't want Laura to see me. How's Frank?"
"I don't know, I only just arrived. How did you know I was here?"
"When I couldn't get you on your cell, I rang your house and Ethel told me you should be here by now. She said your cell was dead so that's why I rang the main desk."
"Con," Sam couldn't tear his eyes away from the blood smeared shirt. "Where's Joe? And what in God's name happened?"
"In trauma; they're prepping him for surgery. He's got two stab wounds, one to the stomach and one to the upper back; it punctured his lung."
"Christ! How the hell are we going to tell Laura?" Sam was shaking. He couldn't believe this. "Con, what happened? Chet's in shock and not saying anything, what were the boys thinking?"
"They tailed Beschastnykh from the station," replied Con. "Best I can figure out, they took it on themselves to do it when they couldn't get either one of us on our cells."
"My damn cell went dead!" said Sam hoarsely.
Con shook his head in remorse. "I was responding to a domestic disturbance in West Sayville and I left my cell phone in the squad car. I didn't think to check it until I got back to the station because I assumed they'd be able to reach you."
"So they felt they had no choice but to tail Beschastnykh," said Sam bitterly. "God, I am such an idiot! What was I thinking sending three teenagers on a surveillance like that!"
Con tried to reassure him. "Fenton lets them work cases all the time−"
"Counterfeit cases! Fraud cases! Cases where little old ladies have lost their damn poodles! He would never have them work something as dangerous as this!"
"But you did warn them not to do anything other than see if Beschastnykh and his cronies arrived at the station−"
"Con, their father is missing! I should have known if the opportunity arose to find out something about his whereabouts that they'd take it! And I call myself a detective." Sam shook his head in self-loathing and disgust.
Con didn't know what else to say. He too felt guilty, but they had a bigger concern right now; they would have to break the news to Laura about Joe just a short time after a seriously injured Frank had been rushed to the hospital. With her husband missing, Laura had already been under enough pressure before the events of tonight and Con was worried about how she would cope. "Sam, we can compare notes later. Right now, we have a bigger problem; what do we tell Laura?"
"You can start by telling her what the hell happened to her children this evening!" a shrill voice sounded behind them. Hearts sinking, the two men turned to find a concerned looking Chief Collig and a wild-eyed Laura Hardy standing behind them.
A/N: Lotsa drama this chapter, don't hate me for torturing the boys! And remember, reviews are loved! :)
