CHAPTER 13- BROTHER AGAINST BROTHER
Frank looked around, desperately trying to work out what to do. He had to save Joe! He fingered his gun. There were 10 rounds in his clip and he had a spare. Could he shoot his way in, get Joe out while he was still restrained, put him in a car and drive for the interstate? What about the landslide? He decided there was a good chance it was an invention, designed to keep them in Haven Falls.
It was a high risk plan. He racked his brain for a moment, but couldn't see an alternative.
He started to move back through the trees as quietly as he could, heading for the centre of town. He hit the main street, sticking to the shadows. He looked at his watch. 2350. Would Joe still be restrained, or would they have freed him already?
The last thing he wanted to have to do was fight his brother! To try to hurt him for his own sake. He didn't even know who would come out on top if it came to it. Joe was certainly stronger and packed a deadly punch, but Frank was a touch more agile and had more martial arts moves in his repertoire. He had a sudden flashback to having to fight Joe once before, a long time ago. Frank cringed at the memory. He had beaten his brother that time, knocked him cold. But it had been very different. Joe's focus had been elsewhere.
Worst of all, this time Joe would probably be armed! That would change things completely! Frank recalled Joe's desperate plea to him, to promise to kill him if it came down to one brother living or the other. He had made that promise. Frank gritted his teeth, picking up speed.
He rounded the corner of the junction, getting his first view of the Sheriff's Office. And the answer to his question. The door was wide open. The bright light inside the office silhouetted the figure standing motionless on the step outside. But Frank knew the person better than he knew himself. It was Joe. His legs were untied and his straightjacket gone, leaving his torso bare. His arms hung by his sides. There was a gun in his right hand.
Frank froze where he was, staring at his brother. He had no idea what to do! He looked up and down the street. He counted four black-garbed figures standing, watching silently. He had to get Joe away from them!
Frank took a deep breath, then stepped forwards out of the shadows, looking right at Joe. Joe's head snapped round, fixing on him. For an instant, neither of them moved. Then Joe ran, sprinting towards him! Frank turned and ran too, praying Joe wouldn't just open fire!
Frank ran faster than he ever had before, legs pumping, throat stinging as he panted, tearing along the main road in the direction of the interstate! He could hear Joe's footsteps hammering behind him. He was making up ground! Frank pushed harder, calling on every bit of strength and stamina he had. He knew he and his brother were fast runners at the best of times. They had to be putting some distance between themselves and the medley of bad guys bent on their deaths!
Then he heard the noise of a car engine from behind them. The bad guys were following the easy way! Frank ducked off the road into the trees where the car couldn't follow. He maintained his speed, crashing through the undergrowth, branches scratching his face.
Joe was suddenly right at his heels! He heard him grunt, and knew his brother was launching himself into a powerful tackle! Frank threw himself to the side, feeling the tips of Joe's fingers brush his thigh as he went. Frank hit the ground rolling and sprang back to his feet. He needed to get them further from danger before the inevitable head to head! He ran on, glancing behind him to make sure Joe got back to his feet.
Joe made up the ground he had lost fast! Frank registered the roar of the waterfall ahead, and changed his trajectory a little. He didn't want to get too close- a fight with Joe near the top of that massive drop would not be a good idea! He peered ahead as he ran to try to identify the route he should take, ducking in and out of the trees as he went in an effort to keep Joe back from him.
But then he tripped! His momentum propelled him headfirst into a tree trunk. He fell to the ground, momentarily stunned. Then Joe was right on top of him! The younger Hardy hadn't seen Frank go down and tripped over his brother's legs, tumbling across the ground.
Frank tried to take advantage, throwing himself on top of his brother and trying to bend his arm behind his back to restrain him. But Joe's strength gave him the edge! He tore his arm free and turned over, punching out at Frank's face viciously. Frank put an arm up to deflect the powerful blow. Joe followed it up with a strike from his other hand- the one containing his gun.
Frank saw the flash of metal in the moonlight and threw himself backwards off Joe. He rolled, landing back up in a crouched position, ready to go again a fraction of a second before Joe was. Frank struck fast, before Joe could bring the gun into play. Joe was down on one knee, in the process of pushing himself to his feet. Frank sprang, launching a flying kick aimed at Joe's stomach. His aim was true and he silently apologised to his brother as Joe collapsed to the ground, curling in a ball, winded. And he'd dropped his gun! Frank grabbed it, throwing it to one side, then put his arm around Joe's neck, his other hand flashing down in a carefully measured karate chop.
But Joe knew him, knew his moves! He pushed hard, upwards and backwards into Frank, throwing him off balance, then elbowed him in the gut. Clutching his middle and grunting in pain, Frank rolled away from Joe again. Joe got to his feet and came at him! Frank kicked out at his brother's knee, bringing him crashing to the ground beside him. For a moment, the two of them locked together, rolling on the ground, each trying to get a hold of the other. Then Joe finally managed to get a fist past his brother's guard, punching him hard on the cheek. Frank sagged down, seeing stars.
Frank shook his head, desperately trying to clear it, pushing himself up on to his knees. He looked up. Straight into the blue eyes of Joe Hardy. Frank got his first proper look at Joe's face and gasped. His brother was standing just five yards away from him, looking at his quarry, his expression blank and an absence of reason in his eye. He looked like he was possessed. And he had found his weapon! Joe raised the gun, aiming it between Frank's eyes. Fear gripped the older Hardy. There was no way he could reach cover before Joe could fire!
As Joe's eyes locked onto his, Frank saw his brother's expression change to one of helpless horror. Frank realised that, at that moment, Joe was living out the very thing he had dreaded most of all. He was a passenger in his own body, about to watch his brother's murder at his own hands!
'Frank?!' Joe breathed.
Frank found his own voice. 'Joe! I know it's not your fault! Please, please try to fight it!' he begged, slowly drawing his own weapon.
Joe sobbed. Tears started to run unchecked down his face. 'I….I'm trying…I can't. It's too strong! Frank, shoot me! Please!'
Frank's heart twisted. He raised his gun. But he couldn't do it! He just couldn't shoot his own brother! His own eyes began to fill. He saw the muscles in Joe's right arm tighten, his fingers flex on the trigger. He was going to fire!
'Frank, you promised!' Joe screamed.
Pulse racing, Frank took aim. He gritted his teeth and supressed his feelings, blinking away his tears and trying to steady his shaking hand. He fired! His shot struck Joe's right hand. The gun span out of his grasp and thudded down to the ground! Joe didn't seem to register any pain, but his face went blank again, the fear disappearing. He reached down and picked the gun back up with his other hand, pointing it at Frank again. Blood splattered to the ground from his injured right hand.
'Joe! Please, you have to keep trying! I know you can do it!' Frank yelled, his gun hand shaking violently. He took aim again, pointing his weapon at Joe's shoulder, and started to squeeze the trigger, his heart hammering in his chest.
Then, just for an instant, Joe's gun wavered! Frank saw a flicker of pain in his brother's eyes and he knew- Joe was fighting, hard! Frank lowered his weapon a fraction. 'You can do it, Joe!' he repeated, then held his breath, feeling helpless to assist his brother with his internal battle.
Joe was still clutching the gun, still pointing it at Frank. But he began to shake from head to foot, panting through gritted teeth. He screwed his eyes shut. There was a sudden gush of blood from Joe's nose and he dropped to his knees. Frank gasped in shock.
Wasting no more time, Frank got up and ran to Joe, grabbing the chance his brother was giving him with both hands! He re-holstered his weapon and fumbled to pull the pack of flexicufffs from his pocket, talking to his brother as he did so. 'Joe! Keep fighting, please! Just another minute. I know it hurts! I'll tie you up, then you can let go. We'll both be safe.' He pulled the gun from Joe's hand and threw it well away from them, then scrambled around him, trying to secure his brother's hands behind his back with trembling fingers.
Joe was waging a losing battle with the demon inside him. Without warning, the full force of his conditioning hit him and he cried out, dropping forward onto his face and writhing on the ground, his back arching in agony.
Struggling to keep him still enough to bind him, Frank sat astride Joe's legs, pinning them together with his own, while be bound his ankles and knees. Then he rolled Joe onto his side. He knelt beside him and stroked his tortured face. He whispered to him, his voice wavering. 'Joe, let go, you can't hurt me now. Let go.'
Joe shook his head. 'Don't…..want….to'
'Joe you have to! Fighting it could kill you. Let go. I'll take care of you. I promise.'
Joe looked up at his brother, pain and terror in his eyes. Then he shut them. The programming took over, and he thrashed around, fighting to get free.
Frank closed his eyes for a moment, overcome. Then he heard the sound of people crashing through the undergrowth…they were coming! He jumped to his feet, pulling out his gun again.
He dragged Joe under the cover of some bushes then ducked in beside him, lying across his brother to try limit the sounds his struggling was producing. It wasn't working. Even over the roar of the waterfall, his thrashing was audible. Realising they were going to be discovered, he got up and ran a short distance from Joe. He hid behind a tree.
Two figures in black came into sight, both with brandishing handguns. They spotted Joe straight away, no doubt assisted by their night vision goggles, and dragged him out of the undergrowth, rolling him on to his side. One kicked him in the stomach, hard!
Fury coursed through Frank. He ran at the figures, knocking one to the ground with a flying kick and landing on the other elbow first, his full body weight behind the strike. The first figure was on his feet in a second and Frank sprang back up to face him. The figure pulled out his gun. Frank threw himself into a roll. The man fired low, towards him. There was a sharp cry and the man swore. Frank turned- the shot had struck the second figure in black!
Taking advantage of the distraction, Frank ran in at the man, gun in front of him. The figure swung towards him at the last moment, taking a shot. Frank rolled again, returning fire as he moved, then ran low to take cover behind a tree. He listened. Nothing! He peered round the side of the tree. Both men were down!
He ran over to check them out, grabbing their weapons and throwing them away into the bushes, then pulling off their hoods and stuffing them in his pocket. They were both dead, both shot in the head! Frank gasped in shock. He had not set out to kill anyone. He only ever shot to incapacitate. But wasn't his first kill- such was the nature of the job. He would deal with it. They deserved it.
He looked over at Joe, then back at the dead bad guys. A plan started to form in his head. The dead men were both males. One, he realised, was the dark-haired Deputy Fox! Someone must have freed him from Frank's flexicuffs. Now he'd been killed for the second time in two nights! Very conveniently, the second man was blond. Frank didn't recognise him.
Frank took off his jacket and put it on Fox. He tore the clothing off the upper body of the blond man, leaving his torso bare like Joe's. Then he dragged them to the edge of the waterfall and shoved them over. He peered carefully over the edge of the cliff.
He could just make out the outline of the figures through the dark and spray. The two bodies had landed far below him on rocks at side of the waterfall. Between the gunshots and the bodies, White and his gang might just be fooled into thinking the brothers were dead…for a while at least.
Frank could hear crashing in the vegetation again…..more bad guys were coming! Frank paused to hide the clothing he had removed, then hoisted Joe over his shoulder.
He moved away from the crashing sounds as fast as he could, constantly unbalanced by the bulky shape of his younger brother thrashing around, trying to get free.
…..
Frank finally broke cover at the edge of the road. He was completely exhausted and covered in mud, having come to grief multiple times thanks to his struggling brother. Joe now seemed to weigh as much as an elephant. He found himself wishing Joe was smaller, lighter, less fit, less muscular. His brother's physique was great when they were on the same side…..
Frank could see a marked Sheriff's Office car parked up a short way down the road- Fox's? There were no signs of life around it. Frank forced himself into a slow jog, sticking to the shadows. He walked up to it hesitantly, then peered in through the window. No one inside…and keys in the ignition! Finally, some luck!
Thinking carefully, Frank popped the trunk and laid Joe carefully inside. 'Sorry little brother. Can't risk anyone seeing you. It won't be for long.' He patted Joe's shoulder gently, then closed the trunk lid. Wrinkling up his nose, he put one of the bloody hoods over his head, hoping his black shirt would pass for the rest of the outfit.
He started the car and drove slowly, as though he was searching for the missing brothers!
Frank held his breath as he passed another vehicle doing the same. The figure inside it shrugged at him. He shook his head. No idea where those Hardys are. Honestly.
The radio in his car sprang to life. 'Did you catch the transmission about the bodies at the bottom of the waterfall? Looks like everything went to plan. White's sent someone down to check out the bodies.' The man in the other car was talking to him! He would have to respond!
Heart beating wildly, Frank picked up his receiver. He tried to recall Deputy Fox's voice. 'Roger.' He nodded at the other figure, thinking he would have given them the thumbs up if he had black gloves on.
The other figure seemed satisfied. Their car drove on.
Frank kept going towards the supposed road closure. He saw the orange lights through the trees ahead of him, praying they were on their way to the interstate and freedom. Then he pulled up, heart sinking. The landslide was real! The road was gone. He looked ahead past the mud, rocks and debris. A sheriff's office car sat at the far side, a figure just discernible inside.
There was no escape this way.
Frank slowly turned the car, driving away ponderously as though he was still searching. He shut his eyes for a second. How would they escape? He thought of the helicopter- could he steal it? Then he heard it flying somewhere overhead. Question answered.
He did some quick calculations in his head. Hiking off-road to the interstate…minimum 24 hours, probably more. Carrying Joe? Days? And the idea of negotiating those treacherous slopes with Joe the way he was….not appealing. Probably not even possible.
He thought again. Could he summon help somehow? Not really, thanks to the jamming equipment. He punched the steering wheel in frustration, wishing there was some way to switch the jamming equipment off. Then he blinked. That actually might work! Haven Peaks wasn't that hard a climb. Maybe 3 or 4 hours from the highest point a car could be driven to. If the secret base was just the other side of the summit, as Tyler had said, maybe he could make it there, switch the equipment off and get help! It might prove to be a heavily guarded fortress, but given the intensive activity focused in Haven Falls at that moment…it might not. It might just be the easy option.
Frank resumed his slow drive towards the town. He kept his nerve, nodding at the figures he passed, heart beating in his mouth. If he was challenged they would be in trouble. As soon as the realised the identity of the bodies in the ravine, they would realise who was driving Fox's car! As he passed the intersection, a message crackled across the car's radio. 'It's not them! It's Fox and Atkins! They're still out there!
'No, not yet!' Frank breathed, looking anxiously in his rear-view mirror. No vehicles behind him…He floored the gas, speeding up the hill towards the old logging road!
Frank pulled onto the mud of the old track, maintaining his speed, car bouncing over rocks and through potholes. He got to the parking area at the end….he could drive no further! In a vain attempt to conceal their location, he floored the gas again, aiming the car into the dense vegetation at the edge of the cleared trees. The vehicle bounced through the brush, branches scratching the paintwork.
He steered frantically around the trees, unwilling to slow, relying on the vehicle's momentum, knowing the tyres would get no purchase on the wet leaf litter of the forest floor. Then his luck ran out- the car skidded sideways as he tried to negotiate a huge maple, slamming into the trunk side-on!
Frank sat for a moment, breathing hard. He tore his mask off, then turned to look behind him. No one. He couldn't see the track- they were well of the road. 'Joe!' he breathed, jumping out of the vehicle and running around to the trunk. He popped it open and breathed a sigh of relief. Joe was in one piece. Conscious. Still lost to him- straining intermittently against the flexicuffs, but weakly now, grunting with the effort. His nose was still bleeding slightly, the blood pooled beneath him. It was plastered in his hair, on his face. Frank tried to look at his injured hand, but Joe was moving too much. He touched the area. The blood felt sticky, not wet. The bleeding must have stopped. That was something.
'You're OK, little brother, I'll be back in a second'. Frank ran back the way the car had come, to the turning area in the track. He dragged some branches across the hole his car had made in the undergrowth, kicked some leaves over the tracks. Maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't be found straight away. Then he ran back to Joe.
Grunting with the effort, Frank grabbed Joe by the shoulders and hauled him out of the trunk, laying him on the ground beside the car. He rooted through the trunk to see what he could find that would be of use. A Sheriff's Office uniform jacket, a rucksack, a first aid kit, a bottle of water. All useful.
He bent down beside Joe, hoping to inspect his injuries properly. But then he heard a car engine, revving in the distance! He stuffed the first aid kit and the water into the rucksack, then pulled Joe into a seated position. He put the jacket around his bare torso and zipped it up, tying the loose sleeves together. Frank realised in the resultant effect had a passing resemblance to a straightjacket. He suddenly felt sick.
Shaking the feeling off, Frank pulled on the rucksack, then hoisted Joe back over his shoulder and started moving though the trees as fast as he could.
…
Frank was completely exhausted. Every step was an effort. He had lost count of the number of times he had fallen, Joe rolling from his shoulder, as he slowly, painfully, covered the miles. Each time, he had forced himself back to his feet and set off again. Thankfully, Joe seemed to be tiring too. His struggling had become intermittent and half-hearted.
Joe thrashed again and Frank felt himself stagger. He stopped, not wanting to fall again. He stood, panting. He was going to have to rest.
He dropped to his knees, lowering Joe to the ground. Joe didn't move. Panicking momentarily, Frank moved to his head, crouching down beside him. 'Joe?' Joe's breathing was shallow, his eyes open but unfocused. 'Joe? Can you hear me?' Fear rising, Frank shook his brother's shoulder gently. What was the drug doing to him now?
Then Joe blinked. For a split second, the look in his eye was- like Joe! Then he shut his eyes, groaning.
'Joe?' Frank tried again. He gripped his younger brother's chin gently and turned his face towards him, scarcely daring to hope that Joe could be coming out of it already.
Joe's eyes fluttered open again and he peered vaguely at his brother. 'Frank? P…Please tell me that was a bad dream.' Joe croaked.
Frank smiled. 'OK. That was a bad dream. How do you feel?'
'Like I was run over by a bus and someone used a blender on my brain.'
'I'm not surprised. Joe, do you feel….in control?'
Joe didn't answer straight away. He shut his eyes, exploring the inner reaches of his mind. 'I….I think so. What if it comes back?' When his eyes opened, there was fear in them again.
'I spoke to Doctor Tyler. He said when the drug wears off in theory you should be okay.'
Joe looked doubtful. 'I…I don't know. I don't trust myself.'
Frank looked deep into Joe's eyes for a moment, as if trying to see what was going on in his brother's mind. 'I trust you, Joe. Always have. Always will. Nothing's changed. But I don't know if that drug's out of your system. No idea.' He shut his eyes for a moment, trying to decide what to do, then exhaled softly. 'Joe, I'll be honest with you. I'm exhausted. Completely. I don't think I can carry you any further. I think we have to take a chance. I'm gonna free you. If you feel anything that worries you, say straight away and I'll tie you up again. OK?'
Joe nodded half-heartedly, unconvinced. Frank went ahead. He took the jacket off Joe, then pulled out his pocket-knife and carefully cut through the cuffs, cringing at the new injuries on his brother's wrists. His legs had faired a little better, his clothing having afforded him some protection. He helped Joe sit up, put the jacket back over his bare shoulders, and eased him against a convenient tree. 'Let me sort your wrists, OK?' Joe nodded, wincing.
Both wrists were swollen and cut deep enough to bleed. The bandage on his left wrist was shredded to virtually nothing, some of the cuts that Doc Mills had stitched up re-opened.
Frank pulled the first aid kit out of his bag. Joe gritted his teeth as Frank put wads of padding over the deepest cuts, then bandaged tightly over them so the pressure of the padding would stop the bleeding.
Both wrists done, he picked up Joe's right hand to inspect the gunshot wound. It wasn't as bad as he'd feared. The bullet had creased the skin between two of Joe's knuckles. It hadn't passed through his hand or struck bone. The bleeding had stopped of its own accord.
'Lucky you're a bad shot, huh?' said Joe, softly.
'You remember?' said Frank, eyes clouding over.
Joe nodded. He looked thoroughly ashamed. ''Frank. I'm so sorry. White let me out! He and Patrick took the straightjacket off. I begged them not to. They just laughed in my face! And I tried to fight it. I really did. I'm sorry I wasn't stronger. I tried.'
Frank patted Joe's shoulder. 'You did good Joe. Really good. You were strong enough to save us both.' He leant forwards and pulled his younger brother in for a hug, suddenly overcome with relief at seemingly having him back. And seemingly with his faculties still intact. Joe closed his eyes, drawing comfort from his big brother, a myriad of confused emotions doing battle in his mind.
After a moment, Frank pulled away. He allowed himself to lie back on the mossy ground and shut his tired eyes. Reaching over and placing a reassuring hand on Joe's leg, he took the opportunity to fill his brother in on everything that had happened since he was taken.
Joe said nothing for few minutes as he absorbed the information. Then he smiled suddenly. 'So it's just you and me against the bad guys again, huh?'
Frank looked up at him and nodded, smiling back. 'Odds stacked against us, stuck in the middle of nowhere with no back up coming. Just the way we like it!'
'Yeah, the bad guys are screwed.' Joe grinned.
'Nut.' Frank poked Joe's leg.
Joe's smile faded. 'Seriously, what do we do?' he looked around as if the trees could tell him. 'We can call the cavalry, right? Bring down White?' He struggled to his feet, stretching his aching muscles.
'Our problem is not knowing who the cavalry are anymore. We don't know how high this goes- we might have to bring down the whole Network! That's why I want to talk to Dad and only Dad. We can trust his judgement. I just hope to God he's back in the country! We have to end this, Joe.'
'Whatever it takes, right? No mercy.' Joe extended his left hand down to his brother, helping him to his feet.
Frank smiled grimly. He gripped his brother's hand for a moment. 'Right.'
The game was on.