Yey! Two reviews! Yey, yey, yey! THANKS SO MUCH FOR YOUR REVIEWS!
One chapter left! Or maybe two… hmm…
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"Augh!" the nurse screamed something in Chinese, pulling a dart out of Joe's shoulder. "Get the anti-dote!" She screamed. "Get the anti-dote now!"
"Anti-dote?" Nancy said. That's not good, she thought. Within two minutes Joe was administered an anti-dote. "What happened?"
"He was poisoned," said the nurse. "Deadly poison. Kills within minutes. Your friend was very lucky," she said.
Nancy sat down and breathed a sigh of relief.
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Frank gasped out in pain, "But I don't know where he is!"
"Tell me!" Jeffery yelled, slamming his gun over and over in Frank's stomach. Frank gasped in pain each time he was hit. "Tell me, damn it!"
"No!" Frank yelled, "I can't because I don't know!"
Jeffery took a deep breath before asking, "One last chance. Where's your brother?"
"I don't know," Frank yelled, tears streaming down his face from the pain.
Jeffery glared and suddenly, without warning, reached towards Frank's arm and twisted it until it was broken.
Jeffery glared at Frank, looking at his face, a mixture of pain, betrayal, and suffering. "Cursed weakling," he muttered, leaving the room.
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Everyone left the room within ten minutes, leaving Frank to suffer in his own pain. He hoped Joe had escaped. Please, let it be true, he thought. He also hoped they'd search for him enough… leaving him to stay here…
Frank smiled as he thought of something. Yes! He thought, that's exactly what I'll do.
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Jeffery looked at his helpers in frustration. "So you're saying…"
"Sir, we've searched everywhere. Our only hope, now, is to get Hardy to tell us where he thinks his brother would go, where his brother would probably go… Hell, where he told his brother to go!"
"We just need a stupid lead…"
"I've got it," Jeffery muttered. "Daniels, hand me the blow-pipe, will you?"
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Frank was sleeping when Jeffery walked into the room. Jeffery stood there a minute. The boy hadn't had any food since he'd came and little rest. He was close to breaking him, he could tell.
Where could his brother be? Ever since Fenton had killed his son – in self-defense, of course – he'd wanted to get revenge so badly he could taste it.
His son had been stupid enough to get caught robbing a bank. No! He wouldn't kill Frank…
Now he had it in his hand… he could kill Frank right now… or….
Or, he thought to himself, he could make Frank suffer.
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Two days later…
Joe woke up. "Dad!" he gasped. "What are you doing here? Did you find Jeffery?"
"First things first, son," Fenton said. "You've been in a coma for quite a few days now. Two to be exact, and we have no leads on Frank. We were hoping you could tell us."
"Yeah, I know exactly where he is," Joe said, struggling to sit up.
"Joe, we need you at your top game if you're going to be safe."
"Good point," Joe muttered. "But dad –"
"Tomorrow, Joe."
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Frank had been drifting in and out of sleep for three days now. Jeffery hadn't given him any water or food and he was getting sick, sick, and sicker.
"Good!" Jeffery said when he was alerted that Frank had barely woken up at all the fifth day. "Give him a little water," he ordered the agent.
The man looked at him confused, but nodded.
"We want him to suffer," Jeffery explained.
"I see…" replied the man. Really, though, he didn't see at all. "Has Joe been found?"
"He is in a local hospital, unconscious, probably will be dead soon; my men used a blow-pipe on him."
"Ah." The man went into Frank's room, smiling. He held a bottle of water in his hands and watched the sleeping boy.
A little torture never did anyone any harm…
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Joe woke up. "Dad!" he said.
"Joe," Fenton said, "we found out something of your brother."
"Was he moved?"
"No," Fenton said, "not that we know of. But he hasn't had anything to eat since his capture. Is this true?"
"Yeah, Dad."
Fenton cursed under his breath. Frank had been missing for nearly a month now. They needed to find him soon.
The nurse came in and unhooked the IV'S. "You're free to go. Be careful, he's just had a serious dose of poison."
"Yes ma'ma," Fenton said, trying to keep things light-hearted.
"Good!" She said with a smile.
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Frank slowly opened his eye. "What do you want?" he asked.
"To give you this," the man said.
Frank took the bottle and eyed it carefully.
"It's not drugged," the man lied. He glanced at Frank, who slowly drank a little bit of the water. "So tell me…" the man began after Frank had taken another sip, "do you have any clue where your brother is?"
Frank sighed and shook your head. "I didn't tell him to go nowhere," he lisped.
"Where would he go?" demanded the man, withdrawing a knife and slightly cutting Frank's arm.
Frank yelped. "To the police station," he said. Hopefully, the men there could recognize Jeffery as a criminal.
"Good!" he said, yanking the bottle of water from Frank's hands and dumping it on his head. Frank just lay in bed, shivering from the cold.
The man smirked. Now I've got news to tell Jeffery.
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Joe walked a few steps back. "Back farther," he told his dad. "About ten feet." Joe glanced around. "There!" he said, pointing at a stone brick building.
"It looks like a factory," Fenton said.
"It's designed to look like a factory. I'm going to get Frank, Dad."
"No!" Fenton yelled, grabbing Joe's arm. "Wait in the car. I'm calling swat."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Within a few hours SWAT arrived and started moving in. Fenton had shown them a picture of Frank so they would know who not to arrest. "EVERYONE DOWN ON THE GROUND!" they yelled, firing random bullets carefully.
Joe watched from his spot in the car. Please Frank, please be there, he pleaded. They had to find Frank. Joe knew his time was running short.
"Joe!" Fenton came running out, holding his walkie-talky. "They found him!"
"Great!" Joe said.
"But there's bad news… he's in really bad shape, Joe."
Joe sucked in his breath. Uh-oh…
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AT THE HOSPITAL (Six hours later)
"Are you here for Frank Hardy?" the nurse asked. It was a different nurse then the one Joe had, and she spoke through a translator.
"Yes," Fenton said. "What can you tell us?"
"Your son is very sick. He's had surgery without antistatic and the man who did it miss-hit. Frank may be paralyzed for a few days, he might not – it all depends. He's severely dehydrated and has a mild form of pneumonia. Nothing serious – yet. However, like I said, he was dehydrated and starved. He hasn't had anything to eat for almost forty days – it's really a good thing you found him when he did. On top of that, he's severely malnourished, and he has a broken rib. He's in a coma as well. I'm going to tell you the truth… he might not live to see the morning."
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How's that for a cliffy? I'll update soon! By the way, I think I'll do two more chapters.