DISCLAIMER

It's not mine. It belongs to Fox Network and Stephen J. Cannell. Except for Brock Harding. Since I don't know Mrs. Hanson's first name, I'm just going to make something up. And thanks to Aggieatheart for reviewing. I have no idea what Hoffs drives other than it's red and a convertible.

Tom drove his blue 1965 Mustang down the road. He ran a hand through his hair. He didn't know what to do. Brock was out, he couldn't be found, and he didn't know what to do. Except of course, to check on his mother. He sighed. Finally, he was at the residence.

"Mom? Mom, you home?" he called. The man walked up to the house. He knocked vigorously. "Mom, you here or what?" he asked. Almost immediately, he heard the lock being turned.

"Thomas Brian Hanson, just who do you think you're talking to?" Amy Hanson demanded.

"Sorry," he apologized with a sheepish grin. "I…I just wanted to make sure you were okay," he continued seriously.

"Tom, what is it?" Amy queried.

"You listened to the news, right?" Tom check.

"Yes," Amy nodded. Then, "Oh, honey. You don't have to worry about me. I'm fine," she assured.

"Well, I just had to check. You know?" Tom asked.

"Yes, I know," Amy smiled. She reached over and ruffled his hair.

"Mom!" Tom complained, pulling away. "I need to go clear my head. Youcall the stationif you need us," he continued.

"I will honey," Amy promised. Tom walked back to his car and drove off. He was unaware that he was being shadowed. A black Dodge Ram followed his every move. Tom wound up at the beach, where he was surprised to see a red convertible.

"Hoffs," Tom said, shaking his head. He parked his Mustang and walked up to his friend.

"Hey, Hoffs," Tom greeted.

"Hey, Hanson," Judy responded.

"What are you doing here?" Tom wondered.

"I needed to cool down a little. Beach is the perfect place," Judy replied.

"Yeah?" Tom asked.

"Yeah," Judy nodded.

"Hey, Tommy-Boy!" a voice called. Hanson tensed as he and Hoffs turned around.

"Remember me, Tommy-Boy?" Harding queried.

Harding had thirteen-year old Tom Hanson, Jr. in a headlock, a knife against his neck.

"One move, and I slit his throat," Harding threatened.

"Run," Tom said, his voice fearful.

"What?" Judy asked.

"RUN!" Tom shouted. Without waiting for a reply, he grabbed her arm and took off. Harding gave chase.