Frank closed his eyes and counted to ten. When he opened them, Joe had already disappeared inside. He was glad his parents and aunt had gone to bed early. Knowing how observant their dad was, he was afraid a tiff between himself and Joe might convince his dad to alter plans.
He locked the door; turned on the alarm; and went upstairs to his room to get ready for bed. After changing into his pajamas, just the bottom because the humidity had gotten worse, he rapped lightly on the door leading to Joe's room from his connecting bathroom. No response. Frank turned the knob and eased the door open, expecting Joe to be lying in bed trying to sleep.
Instead, Joe sat on the edge of his desk, still wearing the clothes he had worn to the festival and staring out into the ever increasing cloudy night sky. Frank looked down, gave a deep sigh and bit his bottom lip before looking back at Joe who had become alerted to Frank's presence and was now looking at him curiously.
"What do you want?" demanded Joe when Frank remained silent.
"I don't want us to fight," Frank replied, entering the room and going to stand in front of Joe.
"We aren't," Joe said stiffly.
"Joe," Frank began, reaching out to put a hand on Joe's shoulder but stopping when Joe narrowed his eyes dangerously. Frank let his hand drop and started speaking once more. "Joe, do you really think you're going to be in danger?" Frank thought perhaps he could reason with Joe.
Joe thought about it, then shook his head. "If these guys do show up here, do you think you and Biff and Chet couldn't handle it?" Again, Joe shook his head.
"Then what purpose would my missing this training camp serve?" Frank concluded, watching Joe closely.
Joe hated it when Frank looked at him like that. It was an excellent trait in a detective, Joe supposed, but it did make one feel like a bug under a microscope. He sighed. "None, I guess," he admitted with a wan smile. "I just wish..."
"I know," Frank said, leaning down and giving Joe a quick hug. "Now, get ready for bed," he continued. "We've got to drop Auntie off at the airport in the morning; drop mom and dad off at the docks at two and then fix up a survival kit for me to take to camp. Plus, we need to see Chet and Biff to make sure they'll be available if you need them," he added, forever the protective brother.
Joe smiled, showing his pearly whites with just a smidgen of cabbage stuck between two teeth. "Okay," he agreed, standing up.
"I get the bathroom first," Frank told him, grinning as he left Joe's room.
The next afternoon after dropping their parents off, the two boys headed to the five and ten to get the items needed for Frank's kit. When they returned home, they spread the items on the kitchen table and set about making sure they had no duplicate items which would consume valuable space.
Thinking he might be on the move most of the time, Frank had gotten a fanny pack to store the items in. The first thing Frank put in the pack had not been purchased that day. It was a military issue Swiss army pocket knife. He and Joe had each received one from their father the previous year for Christmas.
The next item to go into the pack was a compass followed by a signaling mirror; first aid kit; suntan lotion; insect repellent; wood matches in a waterproof matchbox; fishing line; water purification pellets; and a small lightweight frying pan for cooking. Frank zipped the pack up. The outline of the pan could be seen bulging through. "Oh well," he said with a rueful grin. "At least it won't be judged on it's aesthetic appeal." Joe broke out laughing.
"I guess I had better call Callie," Frank said when Joe had quieted down.
"Why don't you go see her instead?" Joe suggested.
"Nah," Frank disagreed at once, wanting to spend his last day with Joe.
"Go on," urged Joe. "I'm going to go upstairs and take a nap," he added, realizing Frank was trying to be nice by wanting to spend time with him instead.
"Are you sick?" Frank asked at once, stepping up to Joe and putting a hand to his forehead.
Joe grinned and jerked back. "No, I'm not sick," he replied, trying to make his tone agitated but failing. "I just feel lazy."
Frank still looked concerned but didn't want to start an argument. "If you're sure then," he said, backing up a bit and tilting his head to the side and looking at Joe questioningly.
Joe nodded. "Alright, I'll go see Callie," Frank said. "But lock the doors and turn on the alarm while I'm gone," Frank instructed. "I'll call on my cell phone when I get back."
Joe waited patiently while Frank checked to make sure the front door was locked then followed him to the kitchen door and locked it behind Frank. When Frank had left the porch, Joe turned on the alarm system and headed upstairs.
Frank arrived at Callie's ten minutes later. He parked the van and climbed out. He knocked loudly then waited for the door to open.
"Frank!" exclaimed Callie, her brown eyes going wide when she answered the door. "What are you doing here?"
"I thought we could spend a little time together since I'll be leaving tomorrow," he answered.
"But...but you should spend today with Joe," she told him. "Especially since you're really going to....you know."
"I wanted to," he admitted. "But Joe decided to take a nap."
"Joe's taking a nap with you leaving tomorrow and someone trying to kidnap him yesterday?" she demanded in disbelief. "That doesn't sound like Joe."
Frank shrugged. "He said he was feeling lazy so I might as well visit you. I couldn't argue or he would suspect something. If he doesn't already," he added.
"Have you called Chet and Biff yet?" Callie asked.
"We did last night but Joe was with me so I couldn't tell them why I was so concerned about Joe," he said.
"Well, come on inside and call them."
After Frank left, Joe headed upstairs and to his dad's office. Frank may have been willing to write off yesterday as an isolated incidence but he wasn't.
He logged on the internet then navigated his way to the police files. Using his dad's passwords, he searched their database for the man who had held the gun on him and the one who had tried to start a fight. He hadn't gotten a good-enough look at the driver to try and find him. Thirty minutes later, having found nothing, he moved on to the FBI website and entered the area for members only, again, using his father's passwords.
Joe smiled as his search brought up a file. He was fortunate his dad had given Frank and himself his passwords and usernames for the different restricted sites. The first man he found was Nicolas Ward. He was the man who had forced Joe out of the festival at gunpoint. Joe read the file. Nicolas Ward, a.k.a. Thomas Madison, a.k.a. Jeff Sheets, a.k.a. Howard Miller; known terrorist. Status: wanted dead or alive.
"A terrorist?" Joe wondered aloud, his forehead crinkling in thought. "In a little place like Conover?" He pulled up another file.
Anthony Wolfe, the man who had tried to start a fight with him in front of Vanessa. Aliases included Pete Mars, Cory Winters and Steve Bradley. He was also a known terrorist whose status was wanted dead or alive.
Joe reached for the phone and put in a call to the FBI. He reported the incident from the previous evening and gave the agent the names of the two men he had uncovered. Finished he hung up the phone, wondering if he should tell Frank. After considerable thought, he decided against it. Frank was headed for a camp with a multitude of Network agents to an unknown location. He would be well taken care of. As for himself, Joe assumed these men must know he and Frank freelanced for the Agency and had been taking advantage of the opportunity his and Frank's presence at the festival had warranted.
He was curious, though, why two known terrorists had been in such a small town. Had they been going to attempt something with all those people there? Was someone of influence at the festival?
Joe itched to return to Conover and look into the matter but the FBI were going there and would handle the matter. Joe logged off and exited his father's room, going to his own for the nap he had told Frank he was going to take.
When Frank arrived home he found Joe lounging on the hammock out back. "I thought you were going to take a nap," he admonished his younger brother.
"I did," Joe told him, grinning. "A short one."
"Want to go out for dinner?" Frank asked. "My treat."
"How can I refuse and offer like that?" Joe countered, closing the book he had been perusing and getting up. He took the book inside and left it on the kitchen table and then the two boys left.
"Where to?" asked Joe.
"How about the Steer?" Frank suggested. "My diet will be restricted for a bit and I'll like to hit the buffet before that starts."
"Sounds good to me," agreed Joe. The two boys enjoyed a leisurely dinner then returned home and played a game of Scrabble before going to bed.
The next morning, the Gray Man and an associate arrived to pick Frank up. Frank gave Joe a hug and reminded him to keep the alarm on and to stay in touch with their friends. After receiving Joe's promise, Frank climbed into the back of a white Colt and he and the two agents departed.
"Have you heard if any of the Assassins know about the camp yet?" Frank asked.
"Indeed," the Gray Man replied. "The FBI received an anonymous tip that two Assassins, Nicholas Ward and Anthony Wolfe, were seen in the vicinity of where the camp is being held."
"I'm glad Joe's staying at home," Frank said, his face creased with worry.
"I am too," admitted the Gray Man. "It's bad enough to put one of you in this situation."
"Even if it's Joe they want?" Frank asked. "Who knew a right hook could be such a powerful weapon?"
"You're sure he won't try to follow us?" the Gray Man demanded. "If he does, he could mess up the operation."
"He won't," Frank assured him. "Oh, he did his best to convince me to help him sneak in but he finally gave up."
"Are you positive?" the Gray Man asked, lifting a brow. "That doesn't sound like the Joe I know."
"He has something else to occupy him right now," Frank said, thinking unhappily about the kidnap attempt. "Where is the camp being held?" he asked, changing the subject.
The Gray Man shook his head. "I can't tell you that," he said and reached into his shirt pocket for a small bottle. "Take one of these," he instructed, removing one pill and handing it to Frank. Seeing Frank about to rebel he hurriedly added, "It's either this or chloroform."
Frank wrinkled his nose but gave in and took the pill and popped it into his mouth, hiding it with his tongue. "Open," the Gray Man ordered, not trusting the youth.
Frank groaned then swallowed the pill before opening his mouth. Satisfied, the Gray Man leaned back in his seat. As Frank's eyes began to droop the balding driver in the front seat headed out of town.
He locked the door; turned on the alarm; and went upstairs to his room to get ready for bed. After changing into his pajamas, just the bottom because the humidity had gotten worse, he rapped lightly on the door leading to Joe's room from his connecting bathroom. No response. Frank turned the knob and eased the door open, expecting Joe to be lying in bed trying to sleep.
Instead, Joe sat on the edge of his desk, still wearing the clothes he had worn to the festival and staring out into the ever increasing cloudy night sky. Frank looked down, gave a deep sigh and bit his bottom lip before looking back at Joe who had become alerted to Frank's presence and was now looking at him curiously.
"What do you want?" demanded Joe when Frank remained silent.
"I don't want us to fight," Frank replied, entering the room and going to stand in front of Joe.
"We aren't," Joe said stiffly.
"Joe," Frank began, reaching out to put a hand on Joe's shoulder but stopping when Joe narrowed his eyes dangerously. Frank let his hand drop and started speaking once more. "Joe, do you really think you're going to be in danger?" Frank thought perhaps he could reason with Joe.
Joe thought about it, then shook his head. "If these guys do show up here, do you think you and Biff and Chet couldn't handle it?" Again, Joe shook his head.
"Then what purpose would my missing this training camp serve?" Frank concluded, watching Joe closely.
Joe hated it when Frank looked at him like that. It was an excellent trait in a detective, Joe supposed, but it did make one feel like a bug under a microscope. He sighed. "None, I guess," he admitted with a wan smile. "I just wish..."
"I know," Frank said, leaning down and giving Joe a quick hug. "Now, get ready for bed," he continued. "We've got to drop Auntie off at the airport in the morning; drop mom and dad off at the docks at two and then fix up a survival kit for me to take to camp. Plus, we need to see Chet and Biff to make sure they'll be available if you need them," he added, forever the protective brother.
Joe smiled, showing his pearly whites with just a smidgen of cabbage stuck between two teeth. "Okay," he agreed, standing up.
"I get the bathroom first," Frank told him, grinning as he left Joe's room.
The next afternoon after dropping their parents off, the two boys headed to the five and ten to get the items needed for Frank's kit. When they returned home, they spread the items on the kitchen table and set about making sure they had no duplicate items which would consume valuable space.
Thinking he might be on the move most of the time, Frank had gotten a fanny pack to store the items in. The first thing Frank put in the pack had not been purchased that day. It was a military issue Swiss army pocket knife. He and Joe had each received one from their father the previous year for Christmas.
The next item to go into the pack was a compass followed by a signaling mirror; first aid kit; suntan lotion; insect repellent; wood matches in a waterproof matchbox; fishing line; water purification pellets; and a small lightweight frying pan for cooking. Frank zipped the pack up. The outline of the pan could be seen bulging through. "Oh well," he said with a rueful grin. "At least it won't be judged on it's aesthetic appeal." Joe broke out laughing.
"I guess I had better call Callie," Frank said when Joe had quieted down.
"Why don't you go see her instead?" Joe suggested.
"Nah," Frank disagreed at once, wanting to spend his last day with Joe.
"Go on," urged Joe. "I'm going to go upstairs and take a nap," he added, realizing Frank was trying to be nice by wanting to spend time with him instead.
"Are you sick?" Frank asked at once, stepping up to Joe and putting a hand to his forehead.
Joe grinned and jerked back. "No, I'm not sick," he replied, trying to make his tone agitated but failing. "I just feel lazy."
Frank still looked concerned but didn't want to start an argument. "If you're sure then," he said, backing up a bit and tilting his head to the side and looking at Joe questioningly.
Joe nodded. "Alright, I'll go see Callie," Frank said. "But lock the doors and turn on the alarm while I'm gone," Frank instructed. "I'll call on my cell phone when I get back."
Joe waited patiently while Frank checked to make sure the front door was locked then followed him to the kitchen door and locked it behind Frank. When Frank had left the porch, Joe turned on the alarm system and headed upstairs.
Frank arrived at Callie's ten minutes later. He parked the van and climbed out. He knocked loudly then waited for the door to open.
"Frank!" exclaimed Callie, her brown eyes going wide when she answered the door. "What are you doing here?"
"I thought we could spend a little time together since I'll be leaving tomorrow," he answered.
"But...but you should spend today with Joe," she told him. "Especially since you're really going to....you know."
"I wanted to," he admitted. "But Joe decided to take a nap."
"Joe's taking a nap with you leaving tomorrow and someone trying to kidnap him yesterday?" she demanded in disbelief. "That doesn't sound like Joe."
Frank shrugged. "He said he was feeling lazy so I might as well visit you. I couldn't argue or he would suspect something. If he doesn't already," he added.
"Have you called Chet and Biff yet?" Callie asked.
"We did last night but Joe was with me so I couldn't tell them why I was so concerned about Joe," he said.
"Well, come on inside and call them."
After Frank left, Joe headed upstairs and to his dad's office. Frank may have been willing to write off yesterday as an isolated incidence but he wasn't.
He logged on the internet then navigated his way to the police files. Using his dad's passwords, he searched their database for the man who had held the gun on him and the one who had tried to start a fight. He hadn't gotten a good-enough look at the driver to try and find him. Thirty minutes later, having found nothing, he moved on to the FBI website and entered the area for members only, again, using his father's passwords.
Joe smiled as his search brought up a file. He was fortunate his dad had given Frank and himself his passwords and usernames for the different restricted sites. The first man he found was Nicolas Ward. He was the man who had forced Joe out of the festival at gunpoint. Joe read the file. Nicolas Ward, a.k.a. Thomas Madison, a.k.a. Jeff Sheets, a.k.a. Howard Miller; known terrorist. Status: wanted dead or alive.
"A terrorist?" Joe wondered aloud, his forehead crinkling in thought. "In a little place like Conover?" He pulled up another file.
Anthony Wolfe, the man who had tried to start a fight with him in front of Vanessa. Aliases included Pete Mars, Cory Winters and Steve Bradley. He was also a known terrorist whose status was wanted dead or alive.
Joe reached for the phone and put in a call to the FBI. He reported the incident from the previous evening and gave the agent the names of the two men he had uncovered. Finished he hung up the phone, wondering if he should tell Frank. After considerable thought, he decided against it. Frank was headed for a camp with a multitude of Network agents to an unknown location. He would be well taken care of. As for himself, Joe assumed these men must know he and Frank freelanced for the Agency and had been taking advantage of the opportunity his and Frank's presence at the festival had warranted.
He was curious, though, why two known terrorists had been in such a small town. Had they been going to attempt something with all those people there? Was someone of influence at the festival?
Joe itched to return to Conover and look into the matter but the FBI were going there and would handle the matter. Joe logged off and exited his father's room, going to his own for the nap he had told Frank he was going to take.
When Frank arrived home he found Joe lounging on the hammock out back. "I thought you were going to take a nap," he admonished his younger brother.
"I did," Joe told him, grinning. "A short one."
"Want to go out for dinner?" Frank asked. "My treat."
"How can I refuse and offer like that?" Joe countered, closing the book he had been perusing and getting up. He took the book inside and left it on the kitchen table and then the two boys left.
"Where to?" asked Joe.
"How about the Steer?" Frank suggested. "My diet will be restricted for a bit and I'll like to hit the buffet before that starts."
"Sounds good to me," agreed Joe. The two boys enjoyed a leisurely dinner then returned home and played a game of Scrabble before going to bed.
The next morning, the Gray Man and an associate arrived to pick Frank up. Frank gave Joe a hug and reminded him to keep the alarm on and to stay in touch with their friends. After receiving Joe's promise, Frank climbed into the back of a white Colt and he and the two agents departed.
"Have you heard if any of the Assassins know about the camp yet?" Frank asked.
"Indeed," the Gray Man replied. "The FBI received an anonymous tip that two Assassins, Nicholas Ward and Anthony Wolfe, were seen in the vicinity of where the camp is being held."
"I'm glad Joe's staying at home," Frank said, his face creased with worry.
"I am too," admitted the Gray Man. "It's bad enough to put one of you in this situation."
"Even if it's Joe they want?" Frank asked. "Who knew a right hook could be such a powerful weapon?"
"You're sure he won't try to follow us?" the Gray Man demanded. "If he does, he could mess up the operation."
"He won't," Frank assured him. "Oh, he did his best to convince me to help him sneak in but he finally gave up."
"Are you positive?" the Gray Man asked, lifting a brow. "That doesn't sound like the Joe I know."
"He has something else to occupy him right now," Frank said, thinking unhappily about the kidnap attempt. "Where is the camp being held?" he asked, changing the subject.
The Gray Man shook his head. "I can't tell you that," he said and reached into his shirt pocket for a small bottle. "Take one of these," he instructed, removing one pill and handing it to Frank. Seeing Frank about to rebel he hurriedly added, "It's either this or chloroform."
Frank wrinkled his nose but gave in and took the pill and popped it into his mouth, hiding it with his tongue. "Open," the Gray Man ordered, not trusting the youth.
Frank groaned then swallowed the pill before opening his mouth. Satisfied, the Gray Man leaned back in his seat. As Frank's eyes began to droop the balding driver in the front seat headed out of town.