Even as worried as he was, Mike dozed off on the ride back to the Pad. Micky watched him and gave a prayer to whoever that the guys were home and everything was going to be fine.

"Wakey wakey!" Micky shook Mike to wake him up.

As soon as Mike's eyes opened, he bolted out of the cab and ran toward the house. Micky quickly paid the cabbie and ran after his bandmate. "Peter? Davy?" Mike shouted as he threw the door open.

Mr. Swezey, Mrs. Filchok, and Mrs. Homer sat around the living room, each of them holding a plate of food. Micky motioned to the food. "I see the guys made it back with dinner."

The guests looked at each other, confused. "We haven't seen the other two boys. We found your grocery money jar and decided to make dinner for everyone."

"Oh, that's nice." Micky gave a half-smile. Mike said nothing as he walked over to the kitchen and looked at what was left in the jar. Micky followed him. "They didn't know. We'll make it," he tried to assure Mike.

Mike shrugged. "We always do. It's nobody's fault. I mean, how would they possibly know we keep the rent money in the jar that marked groceries?" He put the almost empty jar back on the shelf. "Right now we have a bigger problem. Where are the guys?"

Micky looked at his watch. "I don't know, but we barely are going to have time to get to the station. You need to eat something, then we've got to go."

"I'm not hungry. We need to find the guys."

Micky stepped in front of Mike so he couldn't run out the door again. "My guess is that Zeckenbush lured them away, same as he did with us. I'm going to go back down to city hall and see if I can find any clues to where that creep is trying to keep Peter and Davy. You're going to eat so you don't pass out on the broadcast."

"If I eat anything, I'll throw up on the broadcast. I reckon that'd make a worse impression. And I don't want you going down there by yourself."

"You have to go to the station. After all the hoops Zeckenbush has made us jump through tonight, do you really want him to win?"

"Well, no."

"Then you have to go. I'll go find the guys. We'll try to make it in time to see the look on Zeckenbush's face when you expose him."

Mike crossed his arms. "You're really taking this mothering role to heart."

Micky patted him on the head. "Now mind your mother before I send you to your room." He pulled out his wallet. "Here, this should cover cab fare."

"I don't want to touch it, man," Mike backed away from the cash.

Micky wadded up the bills and shoved them in Mike's pocket. "Have the cabbie frisk you, then you'll never touch it."

"Gee, you think of everything."

Micky gave a grin in response to Mike's glare. "Now get going. My baby can't be late for his television program."

"Yes, mother." Mike rolled his eyes as he walked to the door, still not at all comfortable with the thought of Micky going to city hall alone. But after all the work the guys had put in to get him this far, he felt like he would let them down if he didn't do the program. He waved down a cab and hoped that he was doing the right thing.

Micky watched until Mike was in the cab. He turned to the three visitors who were watching him intently. "You're sure you haven't seen any sign of Davy and Peter?"

Mr. Swezey shook his head. "We haven't seen them. But we were out shopping for a while. They could have been here while we were out."

Mrs. Homer set her plate down. "Is there anything we can do to help? You look very worried."

Micky gave a small shrug. "Just watch Mike's broadcast. Make sure he makes it through okay. I'll be at city hall. If anything goes wrong with Mike, call everyone you know whose homes are being threatened. Have them call the station and let them know they support Mike."

Mrs. Filchok reached over and held Micky's hand. "You boys be careful. You've already gone through a lot of trouble for us."

"That's what friends are for, right?" Micky smiled at them. "Don't worry, everything will be back to normal soon."

~M~

Davy pulled on the ropes that held him to the chair. There was a slight give. Johnson apparently didn't realize how small Davy's arms were.

"Will it work?" Peter watched him try to pull one hand out of the restraints.

"I think so." Davy stopped moving when Johnson turned back around to check on them. Both of them stayed perfectly still until the man walked away.

Davy lowered his voice just in case Johnson was listening. "If I can get my hands free, I should be able to get my shoes off and pull my feet out the same way. If the stool pigeon would just disappear for a minute, I'd have us both out."

"That should be easy," Peter smiled. He raised his voice to get their guards' attention. "It's easy, Davy. You should try it. It's very good for the soul." He began very loudly reciting a meditation mantra.

Davy hid his grin as he watched Johnson grow annoyed by Peter's mantra. He paced for a bit and shouted at Peter to stop. But Peter continued, his eyes closed as if in deep meditation.

"You won't get his attention by yelling. He's on a different plane of thinking right now, mate."

Johnson sighed. He ran over and checked Peter's restraints then hurried back upstairs, not even paying attention to Davy.

After waiting a second to make sure the man wasn't coming back, Davy managed to pull his hand out. "That was a great plan, Peter!"

Peter gleamed. "Thank you!"

Once Davy had himself free, he started working on Peter's ropes. "Do you believe that Zeckenbush sent the fellas to look for us at the hospital?"

Peter looked worried. "I just hope that they're at the hospital because they're looking for us and not becuase they're hurt."

"I think we should head back to the Pad and see if anyone there has seen them since we were there."

Davy helped Peter stand up. While Peter got the feeling back in his legs, Davy looked around. "Hey, there's a door over here, like a service enterance or something. We could sneak out that way and they'll never know we're gone."