Joe watched from the doorway as Frank and the Gray man were driven away. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully as the car came to a stop at the stop sign before making a left. Suspicious, but unsure why, he jumped off the porch and raced for the van. He made the left turn at the stop sign and soon caught sight of the Colt. Staying back, Joe continued to follow the car.
The car continued it's trek toward Conover with Joe keeping a safe distance. As they neared the small city, the driver made a turn onto a side road. Joe copied the movement, aware there was much less traffic on this road to provide him with cover. The further they drove, the less traffic seemed to abound and Joe was sure his presence would be noticed soon, if it hadn't already. Right as Joe was wondering if he should back off a couple more miles or force the car off the road, the car made a turn onto another side road. Joe followed slowly, well aware there was no way to avoid being seen if he followed too closely.
Soon the road forked; each way covered with dirt and gravel. Joe easily picked up his quarry's trail by taking the road which was unsettled, thanking his lucky star it hadn't rain for some time. Joe followed the road and took the bend up ahead, slamming on his brakes in surprise. The car which had held his brother and the Gray Man was sitting in the middle of the road, the back doors wide open.
Joe stopped the van and got out. No car had headed back in his direction and from what he could see, no car had driven off in the other. The dust which hovered around the still vehicles was just now beginning to settle and no one could be seen ahead.
Joe headed into the woods, looking around for a sign someone had been through. He hadn't gotten far when someone jumped him from above. Joe landed on his stomach, the air knocked out of him.
"You thought, perhaps, you were not seen?" sneered a voice from atop him. The weight on his back was suddenly absent and Joe began to move.
"Slowly," Joe heard the voice order followed by the distinctive sound of a hammer cocking on a gun.
Joe rose to his knees and saw his captor. It was the heckler from the festival: Anthony Wolfe. "I didn't see you in the car," Joe said as he got to his feet.
"Probably because I wasn't," Wolfe stated. "Come on," Joe was urged forward. "You want to see your brother, don't you?"
Joe was marched through the brush to a clearing on the other side. There a helicopter waited. As Joe neared, he could see his brother and the Gray Man, both unconscious, tied up in the rear. "What have you done to them?" Joe demanded.
"Why nothing," Wolfe replied. "Yet. You see, you three are going to be the guests of honor at a um...party...our boss is throwing."
Wolfe pushed Joe forward to where two more terrorist were standing nearby. Another was in the cock pit. "There isn't enough room for everyone," Joe observed. "Why don't I, Frank and our friend just..."
Joe was silenced by a fist to his jaw. He fell back, unconscious.
When Joe came to, he was in the helicopter with Frank, the Gray Man, Wolfe, and the pilot. They hadn't taken off yet, which in Joe's opinion was a great thing because he was lying on top of Frank's feet and the tip of the Gray Man's boot was digging in the recess behind his knee.
"You know when they don't show up at their destination, the Network will come looking for them," Joe told Wolfe.
Wolfe burst out laughing as did the pilot who paused in his task of checking his instruments. "What's so funny?" Joe demanded, slightly ruffled.
"The Network knows we're here," the pilot said, turning to look at Joe. Joe couldn't get a good description of the guy other than he seemed tall and lean because the cap covered the man's hair entirely and the aviator glasses hid too much of his face. However, Joe could discern a small scar along the top of the man's lips in the right corner.
"We know all about this so-called survival training camp," the pilot continued. "The Network "leaked" word that the Hardy brat who was responsible for taking out our men would be there."
Joe's eyes flared and he turned his head to glare at his brother. That explained why Frank had been unwilling to cancel his trip. When we get out of this, brother dear, I'm going to kill you! Joe vowed silently.
"Indeed, the Network must think we're stupid. Trying to pawn off your brother for you," Wolfe put in. "We know our enemy. We were in Conover preparing to accommodate the Network and dispose of their agents when you arrived at the festival. Had you not escaped, we would have been long gone by now."
"But since you did get away, we had to eliminate the driver and take your brother and Gray hostage as well," the pilot took over once again. "Your brother was to be bait but you just delivered yourself without any effort on our part."
Joe kept silent in self-disgust. How could he have been such a dunce as to walk into this? He should have known better. He should have alerted the Network; the police; someone. He should... He SHOULD have been told! Joe bit his bottom lip as his breathing deepend with his growing anger.
This entire fiasco could have been avoided if Frank had leveled with him. Had Frank known? Of course, he knew, Joe answered his own question. That's why he didn't want him going. Dispense? Joe remembered what Wolfe had said. Was this to have been a suicide mission? And Frank had willingly agreed?
That's it! Joe decided fiercely. We're getting out of this mess once and for all. I lost Iola to the Assassins. I won't lose Frank!
The pilot started the aircraft. "Hey! What about your buddies?" Joe asked.
"They are taking care of the car and your van," Wolfe informed Joe, looking back and down with an evil grin that would terrify even the Grinch. "What's the matter, Joey?" he asked in mock sympathy. "Scared?" Wolfe erupted in laughter. "Of course you are," he answered himself. "After all, you were terrified of the simulator at the festival."
Wolfe turned to the pilot. "Len, let's give Joe here a memorable trip, huh?" The pilot grinned, gave a nod and lifted the chopper into the air.
Every so often, the copter would rock back and forth and Joe felt his stomach fall. He knew there was nothing wrong. The turbulence was entirely for his benefit. They had been tin the air for almost half an hour when the chopper dipped dangerously to the side. With a yell, Joe went sliding toward the open door.
Wolfe gave a yelp, reached back and made a mad grab for the younger Hardy. He grasped the neck chain dangling from Joe's neck but couldn't latch onto anything substantial. Joe slid out of the chopper.
"Ah, damn!" Len said, righting the helicopter. "I forgot the kid wasn't buckled in."
"No worries," Wolfe told him, pretending to relax. "One less Hardy to deal with." He only hoped he wouldn't have to answer for THIS mistake.
The car continued it's trek toward Conover with Joe keeping a safe distance. As they neared the small city, the driver made a turn onto a side road. Joe copied the movement, aware there was much less traffic on this road to provide him with cover. The further they drove, the less traffic seemed to abound and Joe was sure his presence would be noticed soon, if it hadn't already. Right as Joe was wondering if he should back off a couple more miles or force the car off the road, the car made a turn onto another side road. Joe followed slowly, well aware there was no way to avoid being seen if he followed too closely.
Soon the road forked; each way covered with dirt and gravel. Joe easily picked up his quarry's trail by taking the road which was unsettled, thanking his lucky star it hadn't rain for some time. Joe followed the road and took the bend up ahead, slamming on his brakes in surprise. The car which had held his brother and the Gray Man was sitting in the middle of the road, the back doors wide open.
Joe stopped the van and got out. No car had headed back in his direction and from what he could see, no car had driven off in the other. The dust which hovered around the still vehicles was just now beginning to settle and no one could be seen ahead.
Joe headed into the woods, looking around for a sign someone had been through. He hadn't gotten far when someone jumped him from above. Joe landed on his stomach, the air knocked out of him.
"You thought, perhaps, you were not seen?" sneered a voice from atop him. The weight on his back was suddenly absent and Joe began to move.
"Slowly," Joe heard the voice order followed by the distinctive sound of a hammer cocking on a gun.
Joe rose to his knees and saw his captor. It was the heckler from the festival: Anthony Wolfe. "I didn't see you in the car," Joe said as he got to his feet.
"Probably because I wasn't," Wolfe stated. "Come on," Joe was urged forward. "You want to see your brother, don't you?"
Joe was marched through the brush to a clearing on the other side. There a helicopter waited. As Joe neared, he could see his brother and the Gray Man, both unconscious, tied up in the rear. "What have you done to them?" Joe demanded.
"Why nothing," Wolfe replied. "Yet. You see, you three are going to be the guests of honor at a um...party...our boss is throwing."
Wolfe pushed Joe forward to where two more terrorist were standing nearby. Another was in the cock pit. "There isn't enough room for everyone," Joe observed. "Why don't I, Frank and our friend just..."
Joe was silenced by a fist to his jaw. He fell back, unconscious.
When Joe came to, he was in the helicopter with Frank, the Gray Man, Wolfe, and the pilot. They hadn't taken off yet, which in Joe's opinion was a great thing because he was lying on top of Frank's feet and the tip of the Gray Man's boot was digging in the recess behind his knee.
"You know when they don't show up at their destination, the Network will come looking for them," Joe told Wolfe.
Wolfe burst out laughing as did the pilot who paused in his task of checking his instruments. "What's so funny?" Joe demanded, slightly ruffled.
"The Network knows we're here," the pilot said, turning to look at Joe. Joe couldn't get a good description of the guy other than he seemed tall and lean because the cap covered the man's hair entirely and the aviator glasses hid too much of his face. However, Joe could discern a small scar along the top of the man's lips in the right corner.
"We know all about this so-called survival training camp," the pilot continued. "The Network "leaked" word that the Hardy brat who was responsible for taking out our men would be there."
Joe's eyes flared and he turned his head to glare at his brother. That explained why Frank had been unwilling to cancel his trip. When we get out of this, brother dear, I'm going to kill you! Joe vowed silently.
"Indeed, the Network must think we're stupid. Trying to pawn off your brother for you," Wolfe put in. "We know our enemy. We were in Conover preparing to accommodate the Network and dispose of their agents when you arrived at the festival. Had you not escaped, we would have been long gone by now."
"But since you did get away, we had to eliminate the driver and take your brother and Gray hostage as well," the pilot took over once again. "Your brother was to be bait but you just delivered yourself without any effort on our part."
Joe kept silent in self-disgust. How could he have been such a dunce as to walk into this? He should have known better. He should have alerted the Network; the police; someone. He should... He SHOULD have been told! Joe bit his bottom lip as his breathing deepend with his growing anger.
This entire fiasco could have been avoided if Frank had leveled with him. Had Frank known? Of course, he knew, Joe answered his own question. That's why he didn't want him going. Dispense? Joe remembered what Wolfe had said. Was this to have been a suicide mission? And Frank had willingly agreed?
That's it! Joe decided fiercely. We're getting out of this mess once and for all. I lost Iola to the Assassins. I won't lose Frank!
The pilot started the aircraft. "Hey! What about your buddies?" Joe asked.
"They are taking care of the car and your van," Wolfe informed Joe, looking back and down with an evil grin that would terrify even the Grinch. "What's the matter, Joey?" he asked in mock sympathy. "Scared?" Wolfe erupted in laughter. "Of course you are," he answered himself. "After all, you were terrified of the simulator at the festival."
Wolfe turned to the pilot. "Len, let's give Joe here a memorable trip, huh?" The pilot grinned, gave a nod and lifted the chopper into the air.
Every so often, the copter would rock back and forth and Joe felt his stomach fall. He knew there was nothing wrong. The turbulence was entirely for his benefit. They had been tin the air for almost half an hour when the chopper dipped dangerously to the side. With a yell, Joe went sliding toward the open door.
Wolfe gave a yelp, reached back and made a mad grab for the younger Hardy. He grasped the neck chain dangling from Joe's neck but couldn't latch onto anything substantial. Joe slid out of the chopper.
"Ah, damn!" Len said, righting the helicopter. "I forgot the kid wasn't buckled in."
"No worries," Wolfe told him, pretending to relax. "One less Hardy to deal with." He only hoped he wouldn't have to answer for THIS mistake.