Joe heard Paul walk away. He waited a full ten seconds before daring to open his eyes. Paul opened the door of Sam's car, and after a few moments the car started, and the car slunk away. Joe kept his eye on it, jumped to his feet and ran towards his motorcycle. He drove off quickly on the trail of the car, getting as close as he dared without chancing Paul to see him.

The sun had set by the time the clandestine caravan passed main street. Joe had a bit of trouble keeping up with Paul in town, where care-free people were enjoying the weekend nightlife. The crowds soon passed however, and they were now off on more remote roads, heading east towards the sea. Paul began to drive faster and faster. The sea came into view, a magnificent blanket at the horizon, beset with the lights of home-going fishing vessels.

At length, once Joe's jacket had been fully permeated with cold they came to a warehouse, where Joe's nose was fully permeated with the rotting smell of fish, feces, and other foul odors. Paul parked carelessly in front, and dashed inside without closing the door to Sam's car. Joe did the opposite, cautiously pulling his motorcycle behind a dumpster and out of sight, then crept towards the door, hoping to grab a peek inside, before storming in and yelling for his brother.

The door was a heavy one, with no holes or splinters to accomodate a well meaning peeping Tom. Joe ran around the building in hopes of a window or another way in. He saw in the low haze of the flickering street light the outline of a fire escape. As silent as a whisper he leapt for the ladder and drew himself up. At the top he found his goal, a second story window left half open. It led to a dark deserted office, presumably the office of the foreman of the warehouse. Joe stepped inside, make great effort to conceal the sound of his footsteps. Whoever was downstairs was, however, not making any efforts to conceal their voice.

"Viktor!" The words were harsh with feigned brightness. They carried up to where Joe was. "I was worried you weren't going to show up!"

Joe couldn't hear Paul's response, so he tip-toed to the door, and pulled it open. The warehouse was half full of crates and boxes, and there was a lever and pully system that could bring crates from the first floor to the second floor. The second floor wrapped around the walls like a ring, and was wide enough for a pallet full of cargo and little else. Joe stealthily crept forwards to get a vantage point of the scene below.

Frank was bound and gagged in a chair in the center of the room. He was pale, but counsious, and looking sternly at the two men that stood on either side of him. On one side, Paul was holding his hands up either in supplecation or surrender. Paul was facing a taller, completely bald man- clearly Adler Haas.

"I need you to let the boy go, Adler." Paul was saying in an anxious, hushed tone.

Adler shrugged off the question. "So that's it? No questions for your long lost baby brother?"

"Many, but I'm sure we can discuss the past once Frank is out of here."

Adler clapped his hand onto Frank's shoulder, and Frank grunted in pain. Joe winced.

Adler spoke bitterly. "Frank here has a baby brother too, you know. He told me he would do anything for his brother. He's decent fellow, this Frank."

The man paused, walking between Frank and Paul. "So tell me, Viktor. What gave you the right to get all high and mighty when I needed you the most!?"

Adler siezed the lapels of Paul's jacket and hissed, "You left me, and I had to escape all on my own."

Paul seemed to tremble a bit. Joe barely heard his whisper, "How did you escape?"

Adler pushed Paul away and turned fom him. He then spoke to Frank. "You see, Frank, I had plans of escape as soon as we were arrested. I had no intention of wasting away in that hell-hole."

Adler twiched, but continued. "My dear brother over here had different ideas. He wanted us to serve our time. To change. He got cold feet right when it mattered most."

His voice raised to a shout, and he pointed at Paul. "You sentenced me to death! The death of our wealth, the death of my family-"

He lunged at Paul, pushing him hard to the ground. "I LOST EVERYTHING BECAUSE OF YOU!"

Paul slowly lifted himself back up, and a tear ran down his cheek. "I don't deny it, Adler," he said hoarsely. "But it wasn't when we went to prison. I sentenced you to death the first time I convinced you to steal from someone else. I have lived the last 30 years trying to erase that one mistake. I'm sorry."

Adler spat at Paul's feet. "I don't want your apologies, brother."

Paul stepped closer. He spoke gently. "Then what, Adler?" Paul rested a hand on Adler's shoulder. "What could I possibly-"

Paul cut his own words short by seizing Adler's arm. In an impressive maneuver he flipped Adler over his shoulder, sending him flying to the ground. Joe thought that would be the end of the struggle, but Adler recovered with an agility that belied his age. He used the momentum of his own fall to twist about and land on his feet, then sent Paul once again to the floor with a well placed kick to the knee.

Paul struggled to get up as he wheezed for breath. Joe poised himself to jump down the stairs to assist Paul when he stopped short. Adler was holding something up in his hand.

Adler was laughing at Paul. "Nice try Viky boy, but force won't win you this one. See this? It's a remote controlled detonator. There's a bomb strapped to ol' Frank here."

Joe indeed now saw a bundle of wires and duct tape on Frank's chest he hadn't seen before.

The warehouse had become absolutely silent. "One press," Adler continued, "Will send us all to hell."

Paul shook his head desperately. "Adler, you wouldn't-"

Adler barked a harsh laugh. "Thanks to you, Viktor, you have no idea what I would or wouldn't do. You have no idea what I'm capable of."

He gestured about himself. "Don't you think I could have killed you or any of those boys at any point I wished? I didn't want them dead, I wanted you scared! I wanted you to fear the unknown spector of loss, as I once did. I wanted you to see your family slip farther and farther away from you."

He kicked the half kneeling Paul in the chest. "Then I wanted you here," he whispered. "So here's what's going to happen. I am going to shoot you. Once in the knee, for my little boy who I never saw grow up. You will be unable to stand. Then, I will shoot you in the shoulder, for my wife who left my side. Lastly, I will shoot you in the stomach. For me. The brother you neglected. It will hurt. You will suffer, and you will die slowly."

Adler pulled Paul up by the collar, until his face was inches away from his own. "As you slip into unconsciousness your last sight will be me, laughing as your life ends."

Paul swallowed hard; he seemed utterly defeated. "Then, you will let Frank go?"

Adler pulled Paul to his feet, dusted off his shoulders, and grinned maniacally. "Of course."

Paul nodded, and stepped back to give his little brother a clear shot. Frank had begun to struggle at his bonds, shouting in desperate muffled tones behind his gag.

Joe had to act, and he had to act now. He needed the detonator, and had seen Adler replace it in his jacket pocket when he pulled out a deadly looking pistol. But if Joe hesitated, or if Adler saw him, Adler could seize the detonator and send them all up in flames.

Adler hit Frank hard upside the head to keep him quiet. That triggered the less rational part of Joe's brain, and he did something both brave and very stupid. He lunged from his hiding spot, seized the rope which hung from a pulley on the ceiling, and dropped down on top of Adler Haas.

Joe successfully knocked Adler to the ground, but the pulley and rope had no counterweight, so he effectively dropped two stories. Adler broke Joe's fall, but Joe still struck the ground and felt a snapping pain in his right wrist.

Joe didn't give himself any chance to cry out in pain, but he lunged at Adler to grab the detonator. Adler recovered annoyingly fast, and was ready for Joe's attack. They had a few minutes of desperate struggle; Joe wrenched the detonator out of Adler's pocket, but Adler jammed the heel of his palm into Joe's nose. He felt it break and tasted blood on his face. He didn't let go of the detonator, for he literally held his brother's life in his hands, and he wasn't about to let it go easily. Joe went on the defensive, curling up into a ball to shield his broken wrist, his broken nose, and the detonator from Adler's blows.

A loud click stopped the fight. Paul had Adler's revolver in hand, and was looking and aiming right at his brother.

Adler stepped back, and Joe scrambled away from Adler, cradling the detonator to his chest.

"You won't hurt anyone else, Adler." Paul said with an even voice, though his eyes were quite wet.

Adler just stood there, panting in exhaustion. He made no effort to speak or move, and his face held no expression.

Joe gave Paul the detonator, dashed over to a semi-conscious Frank, and pulled the duct-tape off his mouth.

"Ow." Frank murmured dryly. "You look like crap."

"Wait 'till you find a mirror," Joe responded, devoting his energy to holding his bad arm to his stomach, flipping his pocket knife out with his good arm, and keeping a wary eye on his adversary. He began to carefully cut the ropes and tape which bound his brother.

The bomb was a simple pipe-bomb, the same type Joe had found just last night. It was not armed, however, and presented no present danger as long as the detonator was intact and safe. He removed it from his brother's chest, and said firmly, "Let's get out of here and find a way to contact the police."