"Want to change and shower before you leave?" Callie asked Joe, her eyes unable to hide the worry and fear she felt that she might never see him or Frank again.
"No," Joe refused the offer, smiling as he pulled her into his strong arms for a quick hug. "They have to think I've been hiding in the forest. Look, try not to worry," he continued, holding her by the shoulders at arm's length and looking down into her eyes. "The odds of rescuing Frank and saving myself are a hundred times better than they were yesterday."
"That's not saying much," Callie commented wryly, looking down.
"There's a chance. A good one," Joe insisted, squeezing her shoulders and causing her to look back up at him. "We've survived on less."
"Bring him back to me?" Callie begged softly.
"Count on it," Joe promised, kissing her forehead before he released her. Joe looked at his friends who were gathered in the small kitchen of the camper. Shorty and the other Network agents were waiting outside. "Everyone knows what to do?"
"Are you sure one of them is an Assassin?" Tony asked.
"I'd bet my life on it," Joe answered solemnly.
"You are," Phil reminded him.
"Yo! Boss!," Mike shouted, rapping lightly on Wolfe's open door and stepping inside. "Pete just gave me the go ahead to start killing."
"That's right," Wolfe acknowledged, smiling.
Mike quirked an eyebrow and waited for an explanation. Wolfe did not let him down. "Ward just informed me our inside man made contact with him. Joe Hardy is going to "allow" us to capture him thinking the Network will be ready to move in once the surveillance equipment he brings into camp lets them know the layout."
"If they have security.." Mike began but Wolfe held up a hand to silence him.
"Our man has already taken care of the equipment and the Network agents are in our sights even as we speak. Once Hardy is on his way back here, they will be taken captive."
"All right," Joe said, stopping about a mile from the Assassin's camp. "I'd better go the rest of the way alone."
"Good luck," Shorty told him, stepping back into the brush. A hissing sound emanated and he felt a pair of fangs sink into his leg just above his boots. With a cry, he fell backwards to the forest floor.
Joe saw the coppery coil unwind itself and slither away before hurrying to Shorty's side. "Great timing," growled Shorty. "Copperhead?"
Joe nodded. "Radio for an assist," he instructed, removing the pack of cigarettes he had taken from the Assassin by the lake on his first day.
"They'll know what happened," Shorty said, "Your visual transmitter got it. Besides, we're too far in. I doubt I could make it out of here even if they did send someone in for me."
"You will if we can slow down the poison," Joe told him, unrolling a cigarette and putting the bitter tobacco into his mouth. He repeated the procedure with what was left of the pack, then used his pocketknife to cut Shorty's pants leg.
Joe chewed the tobacco until it was moist while Shorty radioed in for an assist. Joe spit the tobacco on the bite as Shorty signed off. "Hand me your bandana," Joe said, after spitting a few times to help rid his mouth of the taste.
Shorty pulled it from around his neck and handed it to Joe, his expression curious. "What are you doing?" he demanded.
"Making a poultice," Joe informed him. "The tobacco will draw the poison out and should give you enough time to make it to the hospital," he explained as he loosely tied the kerchief around the bite.
"Shouldn't that be tied tight?" Shorty asked. "Maybe with a branch in it?" he looked at Joe's handiwork critically. "Shouldn't this be a tourniquet?"
Joe shook his head. "A tourniquet will make you lose your leg," he said. "We learned in our first aid training that tourniquets should only be applied to stop severe blood loss...usually after a limb has already been severed."
Shorty shuddered at the thought. "For a kid, you're pretty bright," he complimented the youth.
"Thanks," Joe responded.
"You can go ahead," Shorty told him. "I'll be okay until Slade sends help."
"He's the one you talked with?" Joe inquired, his gaze narrowing on Shorty.
"Yeah, why?"
"Because he's an Assassin," Joe answered. Shorty looked incredulous. "I had you radio in," Joe reminded him. "How did he respond to your information?"
"Surprised," Shorty admitted, frowning as realization dawned. "Your visual and audio transmitters aren't working," he stated the obvious.
Joe shook his head. "And the odds are, if Slade was the one you talked to, then the other agents have already been captured."
"No," Joe refused the offer, smiling as he pulled her into his strong arms for a quick hug. "They have to think I've been hiding in the forest. Look, try not to worry," he continued, holding her by the shoulders at arm's length and looking down into her eyes. "The odds of rescuing Frank and saving myself are a hundred times better than they were yesterday."
"That's not saying much," Callie commented wryly, looking down.
"There's a chance. A good one," Joe insisted, squeezing her shoulders and causing her to look back up at him. "We've survived on less."
"Bring him back to me?" Callie begged softly.
"Count on it," Joe promised, kissing her forehead before he released her. Joe looked at his friends who were gathered in the small kitchen of the camper. Shorty and the other Network agents were waiting outside. "Everyone knows what to do?"
"Are you sure one of them is an Assassin?" Tony asked.
"I'd bet my life on it," Joe answered solemnly.
"You are," Phil reminded him.
"Yo! Boss!," Mike shouted, rapping lightly on Wolfe's open door and stepping inside. "Pete just gave me the go ahead to start killing."
"That's right," Wolfe acknowledged, smiling.
Mike quirked an eyebrow and waited for an explanation. Wolfe did not let him down. "Ward just informed me our inside man made contact with him. Joe Hardy is going to "allow" us to capture him thinking the Network will be ready to move in once the surveillance equipment he brings into camp lets them know the layout."
"If they have security.." Mike began but Wolfe held up a hand to silence him.
"Our man has already taken care of the equipment and the Network agents are in our sights even as we speak. Once Hardy is on his way back here, they will be taken captive."
"All right," Joe said, stopping about a mile from the Assassin's camp. "I'd better go the rest of the way alone."
"Good luck," Shorty told him, stepping back into the brush. A hissing sound emanated and he felt a pair of fangs sink into his leg just above his boots. With a cry, he fell backwards to the forest floor.
Joe saw the coppery coil unwind itself and slither away before hurrying to Shorty's side. "Great timing," growled Shorty. "Copperhead?"
Joe nodded. "Radio for an assist," he instructed, removing the pack of cigarettes he had taken from the Assassin by the lake on his first day.
"They'll know what happened," Shorty said, "Your visual transmitter got it. Besides, we're too far in. I doubt I could make it out of here even if they did send someone in for me."
"You will if we can slow down the poison," Joe told him, unrolling a cigarette and putting the bitter tobacco into his mouth. He repeated the procedure with what was left of the pack, then used his pocketknife to cut Shorty's pants leg.
Joe chewed the tobacco until it was moist while Shorty radioed in for an assist. Joe spit the tobacco on the bite as Shorty signed off. "Hand me your bandana," Joe said, after spitting a few times to help rid his mouth of the taste.
Shorty pulled it from around his neck and handed it to Joe, his expression curious. "What are you doing?" he demanded.
"Making a poultice," Joe informed him. "The tobacco will draw the poison out and should give you enough time to make it to the hospital," he explained as he loosely tied the kerchief around the bite.
"Shouldn't that be tied tight?" Shorty asked. "Maybe with a branch in it?" he looked at Joe's handiwork critically. "Shouldn't this be a tourniquet?"
Joe shook his head. "A tourniquet will make you lose your leg," he said. "We learned in our first aid training that tourniquets should only be applied to stop severe blood loss...usually after a limb has already been severed."
Shorty shuddered at the thought. "For a kid, you're pretty bright," he complimented the youth.
"Thanks," Joe responded.
"You can go ahead," Shorty told him. "I'll be okay until Slade sends help."
"He's the one you talked with?" Joe inquired, his gaze narrowing on Shorty.
"Yeah, why?"
"Because he's an Assassin," Joe answered. Shorty looked incredulous. "I had you radio in," Joe reminded him. "How did he respond to your information?"
"Surprised," Shorty admitted, frowning as realization dawned. "Your visual and audio transmitters aren't working," he stated the obvious.
Joe shook his head. "And the odds are, if Slade was the one you talked to, then the other agents have already been captured."