Joe blinked as the door opened and a pair of work boots began the descent into the cellar. Another pair of boots followed and soon Joe was staring up in shock at the face of one of his captors.
"Sorry, Joe," the man said looking down at the youth. "Your father hasn't complied with my orders. He will have to be taught a lesson," the man added as Joe felt a boot make contact with his back.
Joe groaned and rolled onto his back before he could be kicked again and so the boot made hard contact in his side. Joe shut his eyes and groaned again as the pain began to radiate. Again and again Joe felt the steel-toed work boot make contact with his side.
"Enough," said the man whose appearance had surprised Joe. "Pull up his shirt. We want a good picture for his father."
Joe groaned again as the fingers brushed his bruised and tender flesh in their task. Click! Another Polaroid snapshot was taken and the two men retreated leaving Joe sore, hungry and thirsty.
"Con, I need your help," Frank said when Sergeant Riley entered the gas station at the corner near the police station the next morning.
"What are you doing here?" Con hissed. "There's an APB out on you."
"By the CIA, I know," Frank acknowledged. "I overheard Agent Blaine talking last night. Someone sent a letter to us that the CIA intercepted. That's why they forced Dad and Mom into protective custody. The CIA is going to let them kill Joe."
"What do you need?" Con asked. He knew he could get into serious trouble not only by not arresting Frank but also by helping him. But Frank and Joe were his friends and he would do whatever it took to help save Joe.
"For starters, I need to know what was in the letter yesterday," Frank said.
"We don't have it," Con said. "But we did get to the one delivered earlier this morning before the CIA. Chief Collig ordered every test in the book on it and is having Officer O'Malley working with the sketches to do a picture of the guy he saw tossing it onto your walk from his motorcycle."
"Anyway I can see it?" asked Frank.
"Let me take you in," Con said.
"What?" gasped Frank, his brown eyes widening in shock. Was Con really betraying him?
"Look, the chief doesn't want you in custody," Con said. "Because not only do you have your dad's blessing on this case but the chief can't stand Blaine. I'll run you in and you will get to see what we have. After that, we can arrange an escape."
"All right," agreed Frank after thinking it over. "I guess I don't really have any other options."
"Do you think they found Frank?" Laura asked Fenton once they were left alone in their bedroom.
"I doubt it," replied Fenton, sitting down beside her and pulling her into his arms. He kissed her forehead lightly. "Let's take a shower before we go to bed," he suggested, nuzzling her neck.
Laura stiffened at the suggestion that was absurd under the circumstances. "All right," she agreed and let her husband lead her into the bathroom. There, Laura opened her mouth to say something but Fenton put a finger to his lips and shook his head. He turned on the shower and began disrobing.
Frowning, Laura followed suit. They stepped into the shower and Fenton pulled the curtain closed. "I have a plan," Fenton said.
"You're going to leave me here," Laura stated a bit forlornly.
"I have too," Fenton replied, his voice only loud enough for Laura to hear him over the spray. "Frank is going to need help," he said, lifting Laura's chin so he could look into her sad blue eyes. "We have to find Joe soon."
"I know," whispered Laura, burying her face in Fenton's furry chest. "Be careful?" she begged him.
"I will," he said, kissing the top of her head. "And I promise: the four of us will be home within forty-eight hours."
"How can you guarantee that?" Laura demanded in a deceptively calm voice. She so wanted to believe him.
Fenton squeezed her tight. "I'd better..." he began, starting to move away but stopping as Laura grabbed two handfuls of chest hair.
"Tell me," she ordered, her tone firm and authoritative.
"Agent Kappan told me what was in the letter Joe's captors sent," Fenton explained. "If we can't find Joe by tomorrow night, it will be too late."
Joe groaned and rolled onto his back before he could be kicked again and so the boot made hard contact in his side. Joe shut his eyes and groaned again as the pain began to radiate. Again and again Joe felt the steel-toed work boot make contact with his side.
"Enough," said the man whose appearance had surprised Joe. "Pull up his shirt. We want a good picture for his father."
Joe groaned again as the fingers brushed his bruised and tender flesh in their task. Click! Another Polaroid snapshot was taken and the two men retreated leaving Joe sore, hungry and thirsty.
"Con, I need your help," Frank said when Sergeant Riley entered the gas station at the corner near the police station the next morning.
"What are you doing here?" Con hissed. "There's an APB out on you."
"By the CIA, I know," Frank acknowledged. "I overheard Agent Blaine talking last night. Someone sent a letter to us that the CIA intercepted. That's why they forced Dad and Mom into protective custody. The CIA is going to let them kill Joe."
"What do you need?" Con asked. He knew he could get into serious trouble not only by not arresting Frank but also by helping him. But Frank and Joe were his friends and he would do whatever it took to help save Joe.
"For starters, I need to know what was in the letter yesterday," Frank said.
"We don't have it," Con said. "But we did get to the one delivered earlier this morning before the CIA. Chief Collig ordered every test in the book on it and is having Officer O'Malley working with the sketches to do a picture of the guy he saw tossing it onto your walk from his motorcycle."
"Anyway I can see it?" asked Frank.
"Let me take you in," Con said.
"What?" gasped Frank, his brown eyes widening in shock. Was Con really betraying him?
"Look, the chief doesn't want you in custody," Con said. "Because not only do you have your dad's blessing on this case but the chief can't stand Blaine. I'll run you in and you will get to see what we have. After that, we can arrange an escape."
"All right," agreed Frank after thinking it over. "I guess I don't really have any other options."
"Do you think they found Frank?" Laura asked Fenton once they were left alone in their bedroom.
"I doubt it," replied Fenton, sitting down beside her and pulling her into his arms. He kissed her forehead lightly. "Let's take a shower before we go to bed," he suggested, nuzzling her neck.
Laura stiffened at the suggestion that was absurd under the circumstances. "All right," she agreed and let her husband lead her into the bathroom. There, Laura opened her mouth to say something but Fenton put a finger to his lips and shook his head. He turned on the shower and began disrobing.
Frowning, Laura followed suit. They stepped into the shower and Fenton pulled the curtain closed. "I have a plan," Fenton said.
"You're going to leave me here," Laura stated a bit forlornly.
"I have too," Fenton replied, his voice only loud enough for Laura to hear him over the spray. "Frank is going to need help," he said, lifting Laura's chin so he could look into her sad blue eyes. "We have to find Joe soon."
"I know," whispered Laura, burying her face in Fenton's furry chest. "Be careful?" she begged him.
"I will," he said, kissing the top of her head. "And I promise: the four of us will be home within forty-eight hours."
"How can you guarantee that?" Laura demanded in a deceptively calm voice. She so wanted to believe him.
Fenton squeezed her tight. "I'd better..." he began, starting to move away but stopping as Laura grabbed two handfuls of chest hair.
"Tell me," she ordered, her tone firm and authoritative.
"Agent Kappan told me what was in the letter Joe's captors sent," Fenton explained. "If we can't find Joe by tomorrow night, it will be too late."