"Don't look so sad, little brother," Matt said. "We're family. No one is going to separate us."
"You're not my family," Joe retorted. "The Hardys are."
"Not by blood," Matt stated firmly, knowing even Joe couldn't argue that point.
"They raised me," Joe asserted. "Just because your brother and I were accidentally switched at the hospital doesn't change who I have become."
"That twerp was never my brother," Matt said in distaste with a scowl on his face. "He was always whining. I knew there was something not right about him." He stopped speaking and looked at Joe, his face breaking into a smile. "Now you..." he shook his head in wonder. "You're exactly what I always thought my brother should be like."
Joe sighed. Trying to reason with Matt was getting him nowhere. "Are we going back to the cabin?" he asked.
"No," Matt answered. "That location has been compromised. We lost a lot of good men. Dr. Curan being one of them."
"Am I supposed to be sorry?" Joe retorted, quirking an eyebrow. He still felt drained but he was becoming more cognizant than he had been in days.
"If you were then you wouldn't be Assassin material," Matt replied, grinning when Joe scowled.
"Where are we going now?" Joe demanded.
"Canada," Matt answered. "We have another base there that should work well."
"Sir," the driver interrupted the brothers' conversation. "We're being followed."
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"What's going on out here?" boomed Fenton, exiting the station with the local constable.
The construction crew scattered as Frank leapt behind the wheel of the van. "Matt's got Joe," Callie informed Mr. Hardy who quickly clambered aboard with the rest of the group.
Frank stepped on the gas as the door snapped shut and sped down the street and around the corner, taking the same path the kidnap car had.
"Only one area flat and clear nearby," said the constable who had tagged along. "Eight kilometers."
"If they take off we may lose Joe forever," Fenton said, worry etched all over his face. He doubted Matt would allow so many people to know Joe's whereabouts. Another leak would be impossible.
"They won't take off," Frank bit out, speeding up even more.
"I see them!" Camille shouted, sticking her hand out past Frank's right ear and pointing ahead. "We're catching up with them."
"What the..." Frank snarled, slamming on the brakes and going into a skid as a horse-drawn buggy pulled out onto the main road from a dusty side one.
"Everyone okay?" Fenton demanded as Frank brought the van to a stop.
"I must take care of the buggy's driver," the constable said.
"No!" shouted everyone in the van at the clueless constable as he started to open the door.
Frank threw the van back into gear and mashed the gas as the buggy's driver opened fire. Dust flew as the bullets missed their mark.
"They have too much of a head start now," moaned Chet.
No one said anything as Frank continued at a fast clip. "The next left," said the constable as they neared the field a few minutes later.
Frank took the turn skidding just a bit as the right side of the van rose slightly from the road.
"They're taking off!" Callie screamed.
"No, they're not," growled Frank. His brown eyes were hard and his mouth set in a determined line as he drove the van straight at the taxing plane.
"No!" Oh, God!" "Joe!" were just a few of the vocalizations in the van as the plane lifted into the air, the retreating wheels missing the roof of the van by inches.