As Fenton took several deep, calming breaths, Frank released him although he watched his father with a curious expression. Joe had been drugged before. People had even threatened Joe in ways much worse than trying to control him, yet Frank had never seen his father so angry. Again, Frank was certain his father knew something he wasn't telling.
They waited until the men had retrieved what they returned for and left before reentering the kitchen. Frank raided the upper cabinets while Fenton went after the lower ones. With a small supply of water, food and even a small hand-held radio, they exited the kitchen and searched for a safe place to stay.
"Hey, there is a basement," Frank called out in surprise as he opened the door and flipped on a light at the top of some stairs.
"Great!" called out Fenton closing the door to the library and hurrying to Frank's side. "I don't think we're going to have a long wait," he said as they descended the stairs. "The wind has picked up a lot in just the past few minutes."
"Which means we could be here for a few hours or a day or two depending on how big this thing is," Frank commented with a scowl. By the time they did get to Joe, would he come with them? Even if they had killed Iola, once Joe was heavy into the medication would he.... Maybe not, Frank heard Joe's voice reverberate through his mind and froze.
"Something wrong?" Fenton asked from behind.
"Why did Joe agree when that woman told him he had no place with us?" Frank asked, his voice hard and eyes determined as he turned to glare at this father.
"Did he?" Fenton asked feigning innocence as he focused his attention on the steps.
"You heard him," accused Frank. "You know why he said that, don't you? Tell me," he ordered.
"This isn't the time," Fenton tried to stall.
"This IS the time," Frank insisted, his voice threatening as he glared at his father.
Fenton sighed. "Very well," he agreed haggardly. "But let's get settled in first."
Frank gritted his teeth and hurried the rest of the way down the stairs, stopping when he saw the crates from earlier; some of which were open and showing their contents.
"Looks like they are getting ready for a war," Fenton commented, looking at the open crates.
"With the Network?" asked Frank, his brow furrowing.
"If so, there's a spy at headquarters," Fenton replied. "And that means we can't afford to wait until after the hurricane to get Joe. They may move him."
Joe accompanied Laurel, Lance and the others through the trap door in the kitchen and into the tunnel below. After a short trek they arrived at a large metal door. One of the men opened it and then stepped aside to allow Laurel and Joe to enter.
"You can have the room to your right," Laurel told Joe. "It's small but it will give you a little privacy. If you need me, I will be in the other room," she added, nodding at a door at the other end of the large communal area. "The boys will be camping out here in the main room."
Joe nodded and headed for his assigned room. Lance followed him to the door. "If you get lonely, feel free to join us," Lance offered.
"Thanks," Joe replied. Joe was convinced Lance was the most dangerous of the men he had encountered thus far but he couldn't help but like him. Lance had not only been professional but also respectful and friendly.
Joe gave him an almost shy smile before turning away and entering his room. Lance closed the door, his own lips curled at the corners as he looked at two of his men. "Joe came into the kitchen before I could get his medication," he said. "John, you and Craig return to the house. The Rhyozine is on the top of the third shelf over the sink."
"Can't he skip a dose or two?" complained Craig.
"No," Lance replied. "It is already beginning to affect him. In no time at all he will be following Laurel's orders without complaint."
After his door closed, Joe lay down on the bed and stared at the rocky ceiling. From the brief time he had spent in the main room and looking around this meager, albeit comfortable, room he was convinced a lot of time and effort had been put into the shelter. He had no doubt that with the right amount of supplies they could stay here for at least a week. That is, if it got no hotter. He had always heard the temperature remained a constant sixty-five degrees Fahrenheit underground but he supposed the generator added to that.
Joe frowned as he thought about the island so far away from civilization. Generators must run the whole place, he thought. I hope the heat doesn't collect down here.
Joe yawned and closed his eyes. He hadn't been awake for more than a few hours and he hadn't done anything strenuous so he couldn't understand why he felt so tired. As the silence rocked him he became completely drained of all energy and fell asleep.
"We're settled," Frank said, sitting down cross-legged on the floor. "Talk to me," he ordered.
"Later," Fenton said attempting to stall once again. "We need to figure out a way to get your brother away from..."
"Stop it!" ordered Frank, his eyes flashing. "I want to know everything and I want to know it NOW!"
Sighing, Fenton leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. "When Joe was eight, your mother and I received a phone call from one Jeremy Hardin," Fenton began. "His eight-year-old son, Danny, had leukemia and needed a kidney transplant. While Jeremy was being tested for a match it was discovered that Danny wasn't his biological son. Jeremy did some checking. Only one other child had been born on the same night at almost the exact same time as Danny."
"Joe," breathed Frank.
"The hospital had gotten the boys mixed up during clean up," confirmed Fenton. "Only the mother's initials were placed on the bracelets that had been put on their ankles but the initials were the same. When Jeremy came to us with the news we were flabbergasted. At first, we were terrified they wanted to take Joe away from us."
"They didn't?" asked Frank.
"No. They loved Danny as much as we loved Joe. We all felt it was for the best if neither Joe nor Danny ever found out the truth," Fenton explained.
"Why?"
"The mix up wasn't their fault," Fenton explained, finally opening his eyes and looking at Frank. "How could we just trade children? I loved Joe after I found out about the switch just as much as I had before. I could see Jeremy felt the same way about Danny. In every way that mattered, Joe was our son. His DNA made no difference. I would never have given Joe up then even if Jeremy had wanted to switch them back but, as I said, he felt the same way about Danny," Fenton concluded.
"If he didn't want Joe back, what did he want?" Frank demanded, relieved to know his dad hadn't even considered exchanging his brother for some kid he didn't even know.
"A kidney," Fenton answered. "Danny may have become Jeremy and Laurel's son but he was my flesh. He needed one of my kidneys. It would give him a better chance at survival than a kidney from another donor."
"Did you give it to him?" Frank asked, although he was sure he knew the answer.
"Yes," admitted Fenton. "It was the least I could do."
"But what does all that have to do with the Assassins?" Frank asked in confusion.
"When your mother called me in DC and said you had found a box of photographs of Joe from the time he was eight years old we...yes, your mother had an idea but we weren't ready to tell you," he put in before Frank could interrupt. "We suspected Joe's abduction had something to do with his natural parents. When I found out who owned this island, it was conclusive."
"Wait a minute," Frank stopped him. "You're trying to tell me that Joe's natural mother is the leader of the Assassins?" he demanded his brown eyes wide in shock. "That's why they wanted Joe so badly?"
"I'm afraid so," Fenton replied, watching Frank closely. He seemed to be taking this better than Fenton had thought he would.
"What about Jeremy?" asked Frank.
"He was killed a little over a year ago," Fenton informed Frank. "A few months after Danny died."
"But why now?" asked Frank in confusion. "And why were the pictures in the locker?"
Fenton shrugged. "I'm guessing, but I think Jeremy felt something for Joe even though he agreed to stay out of his life. I felt that way about Danny but I knew if I got anywhere near him he might figure it out."
"Why?" Frank asked. "Joe didn't. I didn't."
"Because Danny looked a lot like me. A lot like you, too," Fenton added. "There would be no mistaking you and he were brothers."
"The way people sometimes mistake Joe and me as not even being related because we are so different," Frank said with a shake of his head. He looked into his father's eyes, his own filled with determination. "I don't care if that woman is his natural mother. Joe will always be my brother."
"Yes, he will," agreed Fenton. "I don't know why she came after Joe, except maybe she hasn't gotten over losing Danny and Jeremy and she expects Joe to fill that void."
"That's why she had the pictures?" Frank wanted to know.
"I doubt she even knows about them," Fenton answered. "You know your mother. Do you honestly think she would keep your pictures somewhere where she couldn't look at them whenever she wanted?" Frank shook his head. "I think Jeremy either took the pictures or had someone take them. He then kept them at the airport so he could get to them without Laurel knowing."
"So she really won't hurt Joe," Frank said feeling some of the tension leave his body.
"No, but she is using drugs to control him," Fenton stated, his voice hardening. "If she thinks she's going to steal my son and make him hers then she has another think coming! No one is going to make Joe choose who he wants as his family. Not even Joe!"
Frank watched his dad's brown eyes turn almost black as he spoke. He had heard stories of his father's temper but this was the first time he had seen it for himself. Frank smiled. He knew without a doubt, they would get Joe back just as he knew the Assassins would need a new leader if his father got anywhere near Laurel Hardin.