J.M.J.

Author's note: Thank you for continuing to read! Thank you especially to Candylou, angelicalkiss, and max2013 for your reviews on the last chapter! I appreciate hearing from you so much. I hope you enjoy this one! God bless!

Chapter XIX

"It was Angelo?" Fenton repeated, hardly sure whether he could believe Belle Beretta's announcement or not. He took the phone away from his ear for a second to shake his head. "Angelo attacked Mario? But why?"

"Mario is still a little incoherent," Belle explained. "He said something about a disk and Black Rose. I don't know what it was. But he was very definite that it was Angelo."

"Could he be imagining it?"

"I don't think so. The doctor doesn't think so, either." Belle paused. "I don't understand. What happened to Angelo? How could he go so wrong?"

"Belle, this if very important," Fenton said rather than answering her question. "Does Mario have any idea where Angelo might have gone? Any hideouts or anything? Even a hint would be something."

"If he does, he hasn't been able to say. He's asleep right now."

"Can you stay with him? If he wakes up, someone needs to ask him."

"I think so. Why? What has Angelo done now?"

"Maybe nothing, but…he may know something about the people who have my son, Joe."

"Oh no." It was almost a gasp from Belle. "I'll stay with him and ask as soon as I get the chance. And I'll pray, too."

"Thank you. At this point, praying might be the best thing to do."

HBHBHBHBHB

The car came to a stop and Joe looked out the window. They were far out in the wooded area just inland of Baitesville on a little gravel road. At least, it would have been a gravel road in the summer. Right now, it was covered in snow and ice. There was nothing here, besides the snow-covered trees. More snow was falling. After Joe had taken a long look, he sank back against the seat and closed his eyes. His nose had stopped bleeding, but it still hurt horrifically. He needed to wash up, too.

"Get out," Angelo ordered him.

"There's nothing here," Joe replied without making the slightest move.

Unexpectedly, Angelo smacked him across the cheek. "You do what I tell you without any smart comments, or I'll cut your tongue out and send it to your brother."

Joe opened his eyes and looked at him at that, but he didn't dare say a word.

Alyssa rolled her eyes. "Knock it off, Angelo. You know he'd never let you do that. He's going to tell you to put a bullet in his head and dump him off somewhere, so we might as well do that."

Angelo pulled the hammer back on his gun and put the muzzle up to Joe's head, right behind his ear. For an instant, Joe thought he really was going to do it, but then Angelo pulled the gun away and turned on Alyssa savagely.

"Would you just shut up? We already talked about this. We're not changing the plan!"

Alyssa sighed and turned so she was facing forward. She sat like that for a few seconds and then she got out of the car. She opened Joe's door, grabbed his arm, and tried to pull him out. Alyssa was no weakling, but Joe was stronger than her and without the aid of weapons, she couldn't have forced him anywhere he didn't want to go. As it was, with Angelo prodding him with his gun on one side and Alyssa pulling on him from the other, Joe thought it best to go along with them.

"We've got to walk a little ways," Alyssa said. "Get moving."

Joe wondered what kind of place they were taking him to. Several possible comments that he could make came to mind, but Angelo's threats were still too fresh in his mind to risk it. He didn't doubt that Angelo just might carry it out. Imagining what it would be like suddenly made him feel sick and he froze in his steps.

Angelo gave him a rough shove from behind with his good hand, which was also the hand he was using to hold his gun. "Get moving. We don't have all day."

Slowly, Joe began walking forward between his captors, with Alyssa in front and Angelo behind. The snow began to fall harder as they continued on and on. There was no wind, no birds, no traffic, and no people. The snow on the ground muffled their steps and the snow in the air muffled their breathing. It was almost perfectly silent, and before they reached their destination, the whole situation began to take on a dream-like quality. Then Joe had the strange sensation that maybe it was the rest of his life that had been a dream. Maybe this trudging through the snow and the silence was how it had always been.

The thoughts frightened Joe. He knew they were silly. Of course the rest of his life had been real. There had been too much that had been far too good and beautiful to be the fevered imaginings of a brain that had never known the slightest spark of joy. So why did he think such things? And why couldn't he stop the thoughts from coming to him? Was he really that fragile? Or was he simply losing his mind?

"Is this how it was for you, Tony?" he whispered and the snow swallowed the sound.

Finally, they reached a little one-room cabin in a clearing. Alyssa led the way into it. Joe followed with gratitude to get out of the snow, but the thought occurred to him that he might never see the outdoors again. Angelo brought up the rear and closed the door behind them.

The cabin had the essentials to live out in the woods. There were two bunks along the walls, a table and chairs, a countertop, a woodstove, and cupboards. Joe realized that the stove was lit and that there was a kerosene lantern on the table, giving the only light in the room. There was no electricity. That wasn't such a surprise. How could they have gotten electricity out this far from any roads? Still, it was a downgrade for Black Rose.

That Angelo and Alyssa were still, despite past protestations, affiliated with Black Rose was made perfectly clear by two things: a vase of black roses on the table next to the lantern and the man sitting in one of the chairs at the table facing the door. Joe recognized him immediately. His name was Shun. He was an older man from Ziyou, and he had been one of the few Black Rose members to escape the destruction of Black Rose in that country. Joe felt something cold clutch at his heart, something much colder than the weather outside.

"He is not dead," Shun said, no expression changing his face in any way.

"Thanks to Angelo," Alyssa said with a roll of her eyes. "I told him to just shoot him, but he thinks the FO would want him alive."

"You would be wise to show more respect," Shun replied, a slight curl of disdain on his lips. "The Great One will decide what to do with him. But he will take the news of your failure poorly. You will have much to answer for. What about Radley?"

"He's not dead either, again thanks to Angelo," Alyssa said, folding her arms and glaring at her partner.

"It wasn't my fault," Angelo whined. "At any rate, Alyssa agreed to the plan to begin with. She can't pretend otherwise just because it didn't work out."

"The Great One will determine that." Shun's eyes rested on Joe. "Why do you not speak, Hardy?"

Joe cast a cautious glance at his other captors. "Angelo threatened to cut off my tongue if I did."

"If Angelo did such a thing, he would have his own tongue cut out," Shun said.

"He's a mouthy one, if you let him," Angelo warned the older man. "I had to find some way to shut him up."

"The Great One will decide what is to be done with him."

"The Great One?" Joe repeated, relieved at finding himself free to talk once more. "Don't you mean the Faceless One?"

"The Great One will not be disrespected," Shun declared. Then he looked up at Angelo and Alyssa. "He is coming himself. He says he wishes to take part in the final stage. He will be disappointed in your failure."

"What final stage?" Joe asked.

"Perhaps Angelo is right," Shun said. "Bind him and put a gag on him. I don't wish to answer any more of his questions."

HBHBHBHBHB

"It won't take more than a few minutes to throw a few things in a bag," Frank was saying as he and his father walked out of police headquarters.

"That's good, but I'm afraid it won't help us much," Fenton replied, looking up at the sky.

The clouds had made it a dark and gloomy dawn and as the morning went on, they only got darker and more threatening.

"It looks like that big storm they've been predicting is on its way a little early," Fenton said.

"Great," Frank complained, taking note of the sky himself. "That's just what we need. We're not going to be able to look for Joe in a blizzard."

"If we can even get to Baitesville before it hits," Fenton commented.

"You're not thinking we should wait to leave until it's over?"

Fenton hesitated. "No. The route to Baitesville is on the main highway. It's very populated. If need be, we can find a spot along the way to wait out the storm. I'm sure it wouldn't be long."

"Then we'd better hurry and get going. We've taken too much time already."

They hurried to Fenton's car and started first for Frank and Callie's house so that Frank could grab whatever essentials he would need in case they were in Baitesville a few days.

As Fenton was driving, Frank kept looking at the sky. "You know, Callie thought I should try to straighten things out with Joe before he went to Philadelphia. I told her nothing was going to happen to him."

"That's a dangerous thing to claim," Fenton told him. "It wouldn't have done any good, anyway."

"What do you mean?" Frank looked at him in surprise. "You've got to see that there's still tension between the two of us. And over what? It all seems so silly and petty now."

"Now's not a good time to feel sorry for yourself," Fenton objected. "It won't help us find Joe. Besides, you'll get a chance to apologize again, if you want to."

"I hope so." Frank looked up toward the sky. "I hope this storm holds off, too."

Fenton glanced anxiously up at the sky as well. It didn't look any worse, but of course a few minutes would make hardly any difference. There was one small advantage to it: a winter storm might slow down Joe's kidnappers, but the difficulty it would cause the search would outweigh that benefit. Fenton didn't want to admit to Frank how worried he was, but he thought Frank could probably guess. He had been there the time when Joe had been shot during an investigation and had very nearly died, and he knew that his father had considered himself to be to blame.

"The storm could still be a few hours away," Fenton commented. "That may be enough time."

"If they're smart, they would have gotten as far away from Baitesville as possible," Frank pointed out. "Dad, what do you think they're going to do to him?"

Fenton took in his breath between his teeth. "I don't know. If only Sam had a gotten a look at them, we might have some idea."

HBHBHBHBHB

Sam was attempting to put his coat on over his sling when the Baitesville Police Department chief walked in. The chief was a mild-mannered looking man named Erickson, but Sam had no doubt that he had reached his high-ranking position by knowing where he stood and not allowing himself to be pushed around. From the look he gave Sam as he entered the treatment room, Sam knew he was going to have a difficult time getting the chief to see things his way.

"What are you doing?" Erickson asked.

"I'm checking out so I can go and help with the search," Sam replied matter-of-factly.

Erickson looked to the doctor who was still in the room. "Are you going to allow this?"

The doctor shrugged helplessly. "I've already advised Mr. Radley against it, but I can't keep anyone here against their will."

"I've got several teams out searching," Erickson told him. "I've called in the state police and the FBI. I've even already got a helicopter in the air. You're not going to be able to make much difference, Mr. Radley, so there isn't any point in you putting yourself at further risk. Besides, you don't even have a car to use. Yours has substantial enough damage that you can't take it out."

"Then let me ride along with one of your search parties," Sam requested. "I'm not going to sit here and do nothing."

"Recovering from being shot is hardly nothing."

"It isn't very bad," Sam insisted. "You don't know who you're dealing with. If these people really are Black Rose, we can't afford to waste any time in rescuing Joe."

"I've heard about them," Erickson told him. "I know how urgent this is, believe me. But you're also going to have to believe me that you by yourself aren't going to make much difference. Now, Joe's father and brother are coming here. Chief Collig called me and told me. You're going to be more help to him if you stay here and fill them in on everything when they arrive."

"And in the meantime, you can rest that arm," the doctor added. "You're going to have to if you want it to heal."

Sam sighed in resignation, and a slight amount of annoyance. He had intended to persuade Erickson over to his line of thinking, and now he was the one being persuaded.

"All right," he agreed reluctantly.

He removed the coat again and allowed himself to be taken to a room where he could rest. Once he was left alone, however, he got out of bed and paced around, stopping at the window every now and again to look anxiously at the sky and the darkening clouds.

After some time—it was hard to say exactly how long, as time seemed to pass slowly—there was a knock at the door. Thinking it was Fenton and Frank, he called for the person to come in.

However, it wasn't his friends who entered the room. It was a man he didn't quite recognize, although there was something about him that made him feel like he should. He was tall, square-shoulder and dressed in a white suit jacket. He didn't look like police or FBI. Sam mentally went through the descriptions of suspects in this case that had not had photos available to identify them. He settled on one that matched the man in front of him exactly, but it would only be a guess and he didn't want to make a wrong guess out loud, so he kept his silence.

"It's good to finally meet you, Mr. Radley," the stranger said in a distinct British accent. "You're the only member of the Hardy agency that I haven't had the pleasure of meeting."

Sam decided to go ahead and make his guess. He nodded. "Edmund Wight."

The man nodded in acknowledgement. "Those who give the Hardys all the credit for their detective skills are sadly mistaken."

"What are you doing here?" Sam asked.

"Really, Mr. Radley, that should be obvious." Wight gestured toward the chairs that the hospital had for visitors as if they were in his own home, rather than him being the guest, and an uninvited one, at that. "Why don't we sit down?"

"I'd prefer to stand, myself," Sam said, staring at him in suspicion.

Wight then declined to take a seat, as well.

"What are you doing here?" Sam asked again.

"The same thing you are. I'm trying to put an end to Black Rose once and for all. That there was activity involving them in Bayport again was impossible to miss, so I came to investigate. I suppose it might have been helpful if I had contacted you or the Hardys or law enforcement before this, but I didn't want it to become common knowledge that I'm here. However, in view of the events today, it appears I will have to play my hand, whether I want to or not. I understand that you are already aware that Alyssa Roche is a player in all this."

"How did she get out of jail and into the United States?" Sam asked.

Wight rubbed his chin. "Ah, yes. I'm afraid that will require a bit of an embarrassing admission on my part. As the Hardys likely told you, Alyssa was one of my agents who infiltrated Black Rose, but then she went rogue and tried to take them down herself. Essentially, she was on no one's side but her own. After she was arrested, I thought I persuaded her that working with me was the best way to bring down Black Rose. Eventually, I arranged for her to 'escape' and she was to try her mission again. Instead, she's gone rogue again. I have reason to suspect she has joined forces with this Angelo Beretta, who had the same goals as her."

"You let her go?" Sam asked incredulously. "She betrayed you—for that matter, she shot Fenton completely unprovoked—and you thought you could trust her again?"

Wight chuckled. "I'm afraid your inexperience is showing, Mr. Radley. There are very few agents doing the sort of work that I am who can boast of a spotless moral record. Indeed, anyone with a spotless moral record wouldn't be able to do what is necessary in many circumstances."

"Treachery and attempted murder seem like a little more than just a blot on someone's record to me," Sam observed. He shook his head. "That's not what's most important right now, though. You said 'the events of today.' Do you have some information that could help us find Joe?"

"Possibly," Wight replied. "I have reason to believe it was Alyssa and Angelo who abducted Joe."

"Why?"

"On the orders of Black Rose, more or less."

"That doesn't make any sense," Sam said, a slight edge of irritation in his voice. "Why would they be working with Black Rose again if they're trying to bring the whole organization down?"

"Are they really working with Black Rose?" Wight asked.

"They've already tried the double agent routine," Sam said. "I doubt Black Rose was duped by them, even if they fooled others."

"I care little about your barbs, Mr. Radley," Wight replied. "Most of what you take for fact about Black Rose, Angelo, and Alyssa are unsubstantiated guesses or the word of experienced liars. You would do well not to be too set on them. However, that being said, it isn't actually Joe's abduction that brought me here. It was the other event of the day."

Sam raised a confused eyebrow. "Which is?"

"I have just heard that Eva Moriare failed to meet with her parole officer this morning and her whereabouts are unknown. I wanted to warn you."