After a moment of stunned silence, "Pat Martinelli is your uncle?" Vince inquired.

Mark nodded his head. Okay, you're exhausted and not thinking clearly, you shouldn't have disclosed that information to anyone.

"Well, that actually makes a little more sense now. Mark, I don't think they are in any position to actually hurt your uncle, I can honestly say that I'm sure the brotherhood would never stand for it. That is what is protecting you both . . . But I need to hear it, Mark, give me your word," Vince insisted.

Knowing he really didn't have a choice in the matter, "You got it . . . no more stupid escape attempts . . . I'll try to be a good captive . . ." the rest was again cut off by a hacking and coughing spell.

Vince grabbed his water bottle and held it to Mark's lips, who immediately began to guzzle it. Vince jerked the bottle away quickly, "Hey, slow down, you're just gonna make yourself barf, if you drink that fast . . . just a few sips at a time, all right?" as he again offered the bottle.

After letting Mark sip on the water, he capped the bottle and placed it back in his backpack. "I'll give you more later, if you fill your stomach you'll just puke it up, I'm telling you." Vince then turned Mark and proceeded to untie the noose around Mark's neck. "Sorry, Mark, but the ropes stay on your wrists until we're back in the cabin. Now you think you can make it back?"

Mark nodded his head and started up the trail again.

After approximately three hours of walking and two more rest breaks, the cabin loomed into sight. Once inside his room again, Vince stopped him in the center of the room, untied his hands, then Vince motioned toward the bathroom. "I think you'd better get cleaned up. Tom get him some clean clothes. Now, do you two think you can watch him, while he showers, and then chain him back up while I make something for us to eat?"

They both nodded their heads.

"And, Mark, remember you promised to behave," Vince reminded him.

"Yes, dad," Mark grumbled.

Vince grinned; shaking his head, he turned and left the room.

Mark went about stripping off his sweat and mud-caked clothing to get a shower.

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As Hardcastle arrived at the pool shop, he quickly glanced down the street to make sure he wasn't being followed, and then he entered the shop. Martinelli came out of the office and greeted Hardcastle.

"I just wanted to let you know that I have put the pressure on the right people, and enlisted some help to find Mark. Negotiations are in place, and he should be returned soon. I also wanted to warn you that I may have to leave the country in a hurry, as the FBI seems to be aware of my presence."

"Yeah, I'd say you're correct in that assumption, I just had a visit from Special Agent Morris this morning."

"Somehow, that does not surprise me. Although they haven't quite figured out my connection to Mark yet, have they?" Martinelli questioned thoughtfully.

"No, that part seems to have them stumped," Hardcastle added.

"And you haven't informed them, Judge?" Martinelli asked.

"No, and you know that I won't, either. So why are we tap dancing around each other, let's cut to the chase. I don't like you, Martinelli; I've spent my whole life putting people like you behind bars. And now you've dragged McCormick into this mess of what you call a life," Hardcastle spat out.

"I'm surprised that you haven't informed the FBI, it would solve a lot of your problems. I would be in jail, and Mark would again be solely yours, right? You could boss him and tell him what to do all the time,"

Martinelli smirked.

"And Mark would never forgive me, right? And again you would be his confidant. The only problem I have with this whole mess is you putting McCormick in danger."

"I had no intention of putting Mark in any danger. I tried very hard to stay out of Mark's life; it was the FBI that actually brought Mark's value to everyone's attention. So if you are angry, maybe you should be angry with them. Thank God they haven't put the total picture together," Martinelli pointed out.

Hardcastle was silent as he mulled over Martinelli's last revelation.

"I am currently awaiting a proposal that will be the final part of the negotiation for Mark's release. I assure you that he will not be harmed, or they would lose their bargaining chip," Martinelli explained.

"But, I know McCormick, he will be aggravating his captors, he may even get killed, trying a harebrained escape plan," Hardcastle expressed his concern.

"Mark is a very resourceful young man, but I doubt that he will be able to successfully get away from the people who have him. I also think he will realize that you and I are trying to certify his release . . . I will get a message to him telling him to stay put. You know him a lot better than I do, would that convince him to cooperate until I can negotiate his release?" Martinelli queried.

"Probably, it would be the not knowing what was going on that would force him to try something stupid," Hardcastle surmised. "But, Mr. Martinelli, I would like an answer to a question that has been bothering me for awhile. I will not discuss this with McCormick; this is between you and him.

"Are you using him to replace your children that you have lost contact with? I think you need to be honest with yourself here, is McCormick becoming a substitute for your children?" Hardcastle questioned.

"You need to look at why you are so interested in McCormick, and decide if this is what is best for him? McCormick has been searching for a connection to someone and something, since he lost everything as a child. Are you offering that to him to keep him close and allow him to live his life as he sees fit, or to assure his undying loyalty to you?"

Martinelli was taken back at this suggestion from Hardcastle, but even his anger couldn't keep him from beginning to search his motivation for seeing Mark in the first place. He realized that Mark would have never found out that they were related. Sonny wasn't even aware of their real connection. And, as the judge pointed out, Mark was taking him at face value, even though he knew that he was tied to the mafia. Mark had risked his own freedom to protect his uncle from the FBI.

"Maybe I was wrong to see Mark when I did. It wasn't fair to see him when I was making plans to leave the country. I had watched him from a distance, ever since I learned about him in Atlantic City . . . Okay; maybe I am using Mark as a substitute for my children who no longer want anything to do with me."

"But, Judge, you need to ask Mark what we talked about that night. I never claimed to be his knight in shining armor. I was honest with him when I told him that the reason I had not contacted him sooner was the fact that you had done right by him, showing him the right path. He's become a fine young man under your example." Martinelli paused and then continued.

"And, Judge, since we're clearing the air right now and admitting our mistakes, maybe you need to admit to yourself, and then maybe to Mark, that you are also using him as a substitute for your own son. I am very lucky, my sons and my daughter are still alive, though they no longer wish to see me. I understand only part of your pain; your son is gone.

"That part of your pain I can't claim to fathom, but I feel you have allowed Mark to fill part of that gap in your life. Maybe when you admit that to yourself, you can in turn admit that to Mark, who constantly seeks out your approval in everything he does. How much of what he does accomplish, do you acknowledge to him? And, last but not least, are you jealous, that maybe I'm gonna steal some of Mark's affection, that he currently tries to give to you, as you continually push him away?" Martinelli countered.

Hardcastle grimaced as if Martinelli had hit him. Maybe that is why he has been so angry of late, and turned that anger onto McCormick; he couldn't sort out his own feelings. McCormick had been accomplishing great things, one after another. How much did he acknowledge them, and was he actually jealous that Martinelli could tell Mark that he was proud of him. He remembered McCormick describing the meeting with Martinelli, "he said he was proud of me," McCormick had a glow about him, as he had repetitively told the judge of their evening together. Was that a term that he had ever used to McCormick, had he told him that he was 'proud' of him?

Martinelli could see that he had hit a nerve with the judge who had remained silent as he contemplated the implications.

"Judge, I'm not knocking your relationship with Mark. I think you are probably the best thing for him. That's why I tried to sit back and watch, and not interfere. You have done a great job with him. What he has become is a testament to your dedication to him. But, I think some day you are going to have to admit to him, exactly what he means to you, or you may risk losing him too, just as I lost my children. Take it from someone who has made those mistakes," Martinelli added sadly.

Martinelli went over to the desk and made a phone call, as Hardcastle mulled over their conversation in his mind.

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Vince entered the bedroom and found Mark freshly showered and asleep on the mattress. The ankle chain was in place, cuffed to his right ankle. Tom and Harry were involved in a game of rummy near the door. Vince set the tray down by Harry and carried Mark's dinner over to him. Nudging him with his foot, he then set the meal beside him. Mark slowly pushed himself into a sitting position, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Eat a little before you go to sleep," Vince instructed. He grabbed Mark's right wrist and looked at the rope burns. "I brought you an antibiotic ointment for that; how's the ankle?"

"Chafed."

"There should be some bandages there too."

Tom left the room to retrieve the phone, which was ringing. He again entered the room with the portable phone and handed it to Vince.

"Yeah . . . no there's no problem, why? . . . Well we spent a little time outside, when did you call? . . . Yep that's probably when we were outside for a bit. Sorry, I didn't think about this place not having an answering machine . . . Well I thought it was wise to have all three of us outside with him so he didn't try anything stupid . . . No he's not been a problem . . . Yeah, I'll tell him . . . Yep, he's fine . . . I understand, Thank you." Vince had glanced at Mark several times during the conversation, praying that he would remain silent.

"That was a message relayed from your uncle, he's currently in negotiations, to secure your release, you're supposed to sit tight and not do anything stupid," Vince explained.

"Why did you did you lie to them and tell them that I wasn't being a problem?" Mark asked.

"Because, Mark, it would have served no purpose; all it would have done was cause more problems. Look, your uncle is arranging to get you out of here. Leave it at that, get out of here and go on with your life. Forget about what you saw or heard here, forget that this ever happened," Vince suggested.

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Martinelli was surprised when the phone of the pool shop rang so quickly. One of his underlings answered it; after several seconds he held the phone out to Pat. Martinelli appeared to relax at the news from the other end of the line; he hung up the phone and turned to Hardcastle.

"Well, they assure me that he's fine and they gave him the message to sit tight from me, hopefully that will keep him safe, while I finish what I need to do. I will again be in touch with you, Judge. I don't expect us to become friends, but I do feel that we both want what is best for Mark," Martinelli stated as he held his hand out for the judge, who grasped it without hesitation and gave it a firm handshake. "I would really appreciate it, if you and Mark would come visit some day. You might actually enjoy yourself," Martinelli challenged smiling.

Oh thank God, I think the kid's gonna be okay . . . I take notice Martinelli never elaborated on what they wanted from him for McCormick, but I bet it was a high price. I don't care, just so he's back here safe and sound.

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Martinelli and entourage again entered the central meeting room. Murmurs of appreciation and recognition again filled the room.

"I wanted to thank my friends, members of this brotherhood, for assisting me in my time of need. I was surprised, but honored, at the request of my blessing of the new governing members of this corporation. After all, I left for retirement, I was expecting to have no say in the vote on this governing body, but I give my blessing readily. These are my friends and associates, who I see in the future wanting to follow my footsteps into the land of retirement."

Affirmative murmurs filled the room briefly.

"I hope that the brotherhood continues to prosper in these times of plenty. I wish Mr. Reese luck with his expansion endeavors. And I will be returning to my villa, as soon as I speak with my nephew. Please, members, feel free to come and visit me at any time," Martinelli invited. With this statement he rose to exit the room.

He caught Mr. Reese's eye from the corner of the room. Yes, Reese, I informed everyone in this room that you were the cause of this problem. It may have cost me most of my territories, but I guarantee it will cost you a lot more. And the great thing is I don't even have to pull the trigger. You thought since you became a voting member of the brotherhood that you were protected. I think you will find that it was a fatal mistake. Instead the brotherhood, my friends, stepped in to make sure that Mark was protected.

After multiple goodbyes, Martinelli finally made his exit from the room.

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Hardcastle strolled into Frank's office, just as Frank was slamming the phone down. "Milt, where the hell have you been? I just chewed Officer Wilcox a new butt for the third time. He said he got to your house around eight o'clock and no one was home and your truck was gone."

"Sorry, Frank, I was just getting a little anxious, so I took a drive; I needed to clear my head," Hardcastle offered.

Frank looked at Hardcastle intently, "You've heard something haven't you?"

"Well, not exactly, but I have a feeling everything's gonna be okay," Milt explained.

"Milt, yesterday you were about to tear the whole country apart to find Mark, and now all of a sudden 'everything's gonna be okay.' I don't get it; no, change that; I'm not buying it. What's going on? And don't tell me nothing, I know better," Frank blurted out.

"Frank, just don't ask right now, I can't really explain it," Milt pleaded.

"Milt, is there something illegal going on?"

"Frank, it's just better if we stay out of it. I think it will really work out on its own. I don't want to see McCormick pay for something that he really has no control over," Hardcastle insisted.

Frank studied Hardcastle for a moment, then surmised, "So, whatever is going to happen, is something that you and I have to stay out of for now, correct?"

"The less we know, the better off we're gonna be, and I want to see McCormick walk away from this one alive. Frank, I really think this is the only way to get him back, or believe me, I wouldn't try it."

"Milt, this doesn't sound like too good of a plan to me," Frank insisted.

"Frank, I just wanted to stop by, so you wouldn't worry. As soon as I hear anything, I'll give you a call, okay? It's best if we stay out of it for a while. If the FBI gets too nosey, it could all blow up in McCormick's face and get him killed. They don't care about him, they just want a feather in their cap. I don't want McCormick to pay the ultimate price for their stupidity. So let's try to keep a low profile for a while, something's about to come out in the wash," Hardcastle said through clenched teeth.

"Okay, Milt, for you and for Mark, I'll stay out of it for a while, at least today. Heck, I'll even run some interference with the FBI for you if I have to, but you call me as soon as you hear anything, okay?"

"Now you're cookin', Frank. I'll call you later," Hardcastle said as he opened the door.

God, I hope I know what I'm doing here, I'm trusting the mafia to bring McCormick back to me alive and in one piece. And now I get Frank involved by running interference with the FBI.

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