J.M.J.
Author's note: Thank you for continuing to read! Thank you especially to MargaretA66, Candylou, ErinJordan, and max2013 for your reviews! I hope you enjoy! God bless!
Chapter XXX
As soon as the plane landed, Callie and the others jumped out and headed toward the terminal. Jack had to stay behind to see to the plane and though he would have never admitted it, Phil's head and ribs hurt too much to allow him to keep up with Callie, Jenna, and Shaun. It wasn't until they had reached the terminal and stopped, looking around in desperation, that Phil caught up to them again.
"What exactly are we looking for?" Jenna asked.
Phil shrugged as he looked around the few people in the terminal. It was a small airport, so there weren't many. "Who knows?" Phil objected. "Now that the guy's out of his car, it could be anybody."
"I know," Shaun agreed with a groan. "That's the problem. We don't know anything."
Callie continued to look around, convinced that if there was a member of Black Rose in the terminal, she would recognize them. She noticed an Asian man of around sixty at the desk for one of the airlines. He kept looking around him as if he was nervous. His eyes met Callie's, and he immediately turned and started to walk away. Ordinarily, Callie would have ignored the incident, but years of association with the Hardys and the circumstances of the current case bid her to do otherwise.
"Hold on a second," she told the others and started walking after the man. "Excuse me, sir!" she called after him.
He glanced over his shoulder. When he saw that Callie was following him and that she had alerted the others to his presence, he suddenly broke into a run. Immediately, before thinking better of it, Callie started running after him. Shaun took a moment or so longer to absorb the situation before he followed, and Jenna also took off after them. Phil would have done so, as well, but he knew he couldn't run quickly enough to catch up to the man.
Even though the airport wasn't crowded, there were people to dodge around and the suspect, who was quicker than anyone expected given his age, had gotten a head start. He ran for the doors and probably would have made it outside except that he ran full-force into someone who was just coming in through them. Both of them fell down, and before the suspect had a chance to get up, Shaun had pounced on him and was struggling to hold him down.
"What is this about?" the man demanded in an accent, struggling to break free.
Even before Shaun could answer, two security guards had arrived on the scene and were asking the same question. Shaun was too busy holding him down to explain and Jenna was helping the woman with whom the suspect had collided to her feet and didn't seem to know how to answer. Phil was still making his way toward the scene.
"What is this about?" one of the guards demanded again as he and his partner made a move as if to pull Shaun off the suspect.
"Excuse me," Callie said, stepping forward to get the guards' attention. "My name is Callie Hardy. I suspect this man might be involved with a criminal organization, and that he might have something to do with my husband and brother-in-law being kidnapped. At least, we know a suspect came into the airport here and he fits the description of one of the suspects and he ran when he realized I had noticed him. If I'm right, he's also wanted in at least two countries for murder and other serious crimes."
"That is ridiculous!" the suspect protested as he was allowed to stand. "I had simply finished my business at the airline desk and was walking away. That is hardly an illegal act."
"Then why did you run?" Callie asked.
"You were chasing me," the man insisted, "and as everyone present can see, you had every intention of harming me."
The guards frowned as they listened to the exchange. Then one of the asked, "Mrs. Hardy, what is the name of the person who is wanted for these crimes?"
"His last name is Shun," Callie replied. "I don't know his first name."
"Would you show us your identification, sir?" the guard asked the suspect.
"Gladly." The man took out a Chinese passport which identified him as Zitong Zhu. "As you can see, my name isn't Shun."
The guard gave Callie a questioning glance. "Just how certain are you of your identification, ma'am?"
"Well," Callie conceded, "I can't be certain. I've never actually seen Shun or even a picture of him."
As the guards were beginning to apologize to the man, Shaun interrupted. "Hold on. Don't these Black Rose creeps get a rose tattooed behind their ears?"
"Some of them do," Phil agreed as he finally reached the group.
"That's right," Callie added. "At least, they used to."
"As you can see, I don't have any tattoos," the suspect pointed out, turning his head from side to side to prove it.
"But you did," Shaun said. "You have a scar from having it removed. I know, because I've got one just like it. Not that I ever had a black rose tattoo, of course. It was an ex-girlfriend's name, but she…"
"That can wait for another time," Phil cut him off. "The suspect we're looking for did have a tattoo like that behind his ear. He could easily have a fake passport. Besides that, we know where we can find people who can identify him."
"I'm not sure what's going on here," one of the guards admitted, "but it sounds like we'd better turn all this over to the police. All of you, come along with us."
Seeing that he couldn't talk his way out of this, the suspect reached for his pocket. Shaun immediately grabbed his arm and kept him from getting at it. One of the guards stepped forward and removed a nearly-empty bottle of pills from the pocket.
"It's my medication," the man claimed. "I need it for my heart in stressful situations like this."
The guard unscrewed the lid and looked at the few remaining pills in the bottle. Then he sniffed it. "You'd better come along with us. We have EMTs on staff. We can have them on hand in case you have any trouble."
"I won't if you'll let me have my medication," the man insisted.
"I don't think what's in this bottle is going to help your heart," the guard replied.
HBHBHBHBHB
Their footsteps echoed on the walls of the passage as Fenton and Sam made their way through the tunnel. It was a long distance, but neither stopped or hesitated, although Fenton was beginning to feel that he would have liked to. For the last several years, ever since Joe had been shot, he hadn't been able to shake the fear that detective work would wind up getting one or the other of his sons killed. It had almost been a relief when Joe had quit, even though it had pained Fenton for his younger son to move so far away. Then Black Rose had resurfaced and Fenton had realized that there was no escaping for any of them. Now the worst had happened, just as if it had been fated. He had feared it for so long that it almost wasn't even shocking. Fenton wanted to stop and mourn his son, but at the same time, he felt as if he had done all his mourning in advance.
Sam was walking slightly ahead of Fenton. He suddenly stopped, signaling Fenton to be quiet. The echoes of their footsteps lasted a second or so longer than the footsteps themselves did. Fenton and Sam both frowned. The echo had lasted longer than it seemed to them it should have.
Putting a finger to his lips and then pulling out his gun, Fenton began walking forward again, taking each step so cautiously that there were no more echoing footsteps. Sam followed him, walking just as silently.
After a few minutes of walking, their flashlights picked up the shadowy figures of people up ahead. The rescue party froze and those who hadn't done so yet drew their weapons.
"Who's there?" Con demanded.
"Justice," a male voice replied. "Your organization has come to its end."
"Organization?" Sam repeated. "What are you talking about?"
"Wait!" The voice was sharp and sudden and it belonged to Evangeline. "Well, well. That is the voice of my old enemy, Sam Radley. Are you there, too, Fenton?"
"I'm here," Fenton said.
Evangeline chuckled. "I should have known you'd be around here somewhere. You must be looking for your sons. I heard they were missing. We found one of them for you, back there. Randy here tells me we were a bit late to do him any good, if we'd wanted to. We're more interested in whoever killed him."
Fenton let out a long breath. This was like one of his nightmares come to life. It was so like it, in fact, that for a moment he almost let himself hope that that was all it was, but then he recalled himself to reality. Evangeline was dangerous, and she was headed toward the rest of Fenton's family. He couldn't let her get through.
"I thought you wanted to kill us," Sam said. "What are you doing here?"
"I don't like being framed," Evangeline replied. "After Mario Beretta was attacked, I realized that Black Rose had gotten me out of jail just in time to take the fall for that. They regret that now." She breathed a sigh. "Well, you're making things easy for me, at least. I won't have to go hunting for you two now, and Beretta will be easy to get to in the hospital. It all worked out perfectly in the end."
Her two companions raised their weapons as if that was a command. There was nowhere to hide in the narrow tunnel. The best Fenton and Sam could do to hide was to turn their flashlights off, but if Evangeline was armed, they knew that wouldn't make any difference, since she could aim by sound. They had no sooner switched their flashlights off than there were several gunshots.
Fenton pressed himself against the side of the tunnel. Sam had made a leap for the same side. The shots only lasted a few seconds. When the silence fell afterward, no one had nerve enough to say a word. Evangeline must have been armed, and she had proven that she could shoot with reasonable accuracy at close range.
Close to a minute had passed before it occurred to Fenton that Evangeline wouldn't know the difference if he turned on a flashlight. Her companions would, so precautions would have to be taken in case they were still standing. Fenton took his flashlight out and quickly switched it on while it was pointed in the suspects' direction at eye-level and then flicked it off almost before he had a chance to process what he had seen.
Only Evangeline was still standing. She was looking very uncertain. Her companions must have been on the floor. Since there was no reaction from them, Fenton and Sam decided that it would be safe to turn their lights back on. Two flashlights came on at once. This time, they could see the men lying on the floor, their guns next to them.
"We're all still here, Evangeline," Fenton told her. When she raised her pistol, he added, "You can shoot, but it won't help you. Even if you get me, Sam is here and armed."
"Do you think that scares me, Hardy?" Evangeline asked with a grim smile on her face. "He'd be doing me a favor if he shot me, but he wouldn't. I know he wouldn't. None of you did just now. That's always my luck. Randy and Weston are dead, I suppose. It's not what I promised them, but I thought it might turn out that way. I don't mind if I get killed, you know. I've been expecting to, even if it meant costing me the chance to finish off the lot of you. I thought, if I could take a few Black Rose people with me, that would suit me fine, but I never thought three people—one of them blind—could walk right into Black Rose headquarters and start shooting and no one would even try to stop us. The whole organization is dying out. It would appear that the Black Rose has withered." She sighed dramatically. "I know neither of you will kill me if you don't have to, and if I let you take me alive, I'll just go back to jail. I'd rather be dead. So I'll make things easy for you."
She raised her gun as if she was about to start shooting. Then, too quickly for anyone to stop him, one of the men on the floor stirred. He picked up his gun and fired at Evangeline. She screamed and shot back at him several times in succession before she collapsed to the floor.
As the gunshots ceased, Fenton and Sam hurried forward. Fenton crouched next to Evangeline while Sam bent over to examine the man who had shot her.
"He's dead," Sam announced.
"What about the other one?" Fenton asked. He could see that Evangeline was still alive and conscious. She was groping for her gun, but he pushed it out of her reach.
"He's still alive," Sam said as he examined the other one. "He needs immediate medical attention."
Evangeline chuckled bitterly. "He'll die. Everything a Moretti touches dies. It didn't change things, changing my name. But I won't be as lucky. I'll live. I always do."
"Is that really what all this is about?" Fenton asked. "You came here to get Black Rose to kill you so you wouldn't have to go back to jail?"
Evangeline shook her head. "There's no 'going back to jail' for me. I've been in jail since I was twelve. When you're blind and alone, there's no such thing as freedom. Dying is the only way out. That's why I tried so hard to get paroled. I wanted to avenge myself and then die. Why didn't they kill me? Why didn't you kill me?"
Fenton watched as Sam attempted to stop the bleeding from the gunman's wound. He knew that help wouldn't be coming for the man quickly and that both he and Evangeline would need to be carried out, which would be as much as he and Sam could do by themselves. Yet he looked down the tunnel in anguish.
"I've got to keep going and find Frank," he said.
"Fenton," Sam said in a tone that said far more than that: a tone that pointed out that they couldn't deprive someone who was still living of help in order to go searching after the dead.
"I know," Fenton said. "But there could be some mistake. Joe's been through a lot and Angelo had nothing to gain by telling us the truth. For that matter, neither did Evangeline here. I can't take that chance."
HBHBHBHBHB
Iola watched Jerry run back down the tunnel after the young man who had shown them the way. She was tempted to follow him, but she couldn't abandon the search for the Hardys. Although she almost felt sick with fear, she continued going.
Finally, she saw a door ahead of her. It was standing open and there was a lighted room beyond. Iola walked as silently as possible toward the door and paused behind it, listening. There wasn't a sound inside. Either no one was there or they were waiting for someone. Maybe the young man had led her into a trap.
Yet somehow, she didn't think he had. There was something about her that made her trust him. Taking a deep breath and wondering if she was about to make the stupidest mistake of her life, she stepped into the room. She took in what she could at a glance: the throne, the medieval weapons on the walls, the pit in the center, but her attention was immediately caught by the sight of a woman lying motionless on the floor.
Iola turned toward the tunnel again and shouted, "Jerry! Come back!"
There was no response. She hadn't really expected one. Then she went to examine the woman. She didn't look like she was breathing and Iola couldn't find a pulse. There was a bullet wound in her chest, and Iola turned away in horror.
That was when she saw a worse sight. Frank was tied to a pillar—on the side facing away from the door so that she hadn't seen him when she entered the room—and a spear was protruding from his side. This time, Iola screamed.
HBHBHBHBHB
Jerry had run all the way back upstairs without catching so much as a glimpse of the young man he had followed. He knew it was crazy, but he couldn't shake the feeling he had about him.
"Here! Where are you?" Jerry called, but there was no response.
That is, there was no response from the man he was searching for. Chet, Biff, and Maria appeared in one of the doorways, looking a little pale from their search of the house.
"Where's Iola?" was the first thing Chet asked.
"She…" Jerry looked behind him, as if it was the first time he realized that Iola hadn't followed him. "She must still be down in that secret passageway. There's something strange going on here. We'd better find her and then all keep together."
He led the way back into the basement. They had just entered the secret passage when they heard Iola scream. For a fraction of a second, they all stiffened. Then they went running down the passage.
The first thing they saw was Iola, standing next to a woman's body and covering her face with her hands. But it wasn't the body that she was facing. She was facing one of the pillars supporting the ceiling of the room. The others had to step inside to see what had caused her to scream. They each gasped or exclaimed in horror when they saw Frank.
Jerry and Biff were the first to rush to Frank's side. As Biff touched his shoulder, he moaned slightly.
"He…he's still alive!" Biff declared in wonder.
Jerry briefly examined him. "He is…barely. We've got to get him to help."
Biff took a knife from his pocket and was about to cut the ropes holding Frank, but Jerry stopped him.
"Hold on," Jerry advised him. He put his hand between Frank's back and the pillar and frowned at what he found. "It's what I thought. The spear went all the way through and it's embedded in the pillar. The ropes are helping to keep the pressure off the spear. He'll be better off if we leave them in place until we get the spear taken care of."
Biff closed the blade of his pocketknife. "Can't we just pull it out?"
"No," Jerry replied quickly. "That's the worst thing we could do. Right now, it's helping staunch the bleeding. Leaving it in might help keep him alive long enough to get him to a hospital. Besides that, we'd do even more damage pulling it out, if we even could. The tip is completely buried in the pillar. I doubt we could pull it out if we wanted to."
"Then what do we do?" Chet demanded.
"We'll have to cut it between him and the pillar," Jerry replied.
Chet glanced at the weaponry hanging on the wall. "There's plenty of things we can use to cut in here."
Jerry also took a look around. "Maybe, but we need something like a hedge trimmer that will put pressure on two sides at once."
"Where are we going to find a thing like that?" Biff asked.
"I saw some tools upstairs when I was looking around," Maria volunteered. "There might be something there."
"We'll need a blanket, too," Jerry said. "He must be in shock. Chet, take the girls and see if you can find any. And see if there's a first aid kit around here anywhere with some antiseptic."
Chet took each of the girls by the elbow and steered them toward the tunnel. Maria hurried on ahead of them, but Iola still seemed shocked by the sight of Frank and clung to Chet's arm. When Maria showed them the tools she had found, there was a heavy-duty hedge clipper that looked like it would be stout enough to cut through the slender shaft of the spear. Blankets were retrieved from one of the bedrooms, and while they didn't find a first-aid kit, they did find some antiseptic and gauze in one of the bathrooms. They didn't see Edmund Wight anywhere, but none of them thought much about that as they hurriedly returned to the secret room.
Jerry looked critically at the hedge clipper before deciding that it might do. He doused it with some of the antiseptic. "All right, Chet," he said, turning toward Frank again. "I'm going to need you to hold the spear so it doesn't move around at all. You're going to have to hold it between Frank and the pillar. Holding it from the other end isn't going to do any good."
"Me?" Chet asked shakily.
He reached behind his friend's back, but when he closed his hand around the shaft, he found that it was wet. Immediately, he turned a shade of green withdrew his hand.
"I…I think I'm going to be sick," he said.
"Biff, you do it, then," Jerry requested.
Biff wasn't particularly eager about it either, but he steeled himself for the task. Jerry then slid the clipper next to Biff's hand and tried to cut through the shaft. It didn't cut as easily as he hoped. Chet, seeing Jerry struggling with the clipper, rallied himself and added his strength to the task. Between the two of them, they were finally able to cut through the shaft.
Then, while Jerry and Chet held Frank up, Biff cut the ropes. They gently lowered Frank to the floor and Jerry applied antiseptic to the wounds in the front and the back. Then he and Chet cut the shaft off in the front. Maria had been hovering around, eager to help but also careful not to get in the way. She jumped in to help to wrap the blankets around Frank. Frank moaned a couple of times, but he seemed to be unconscious.
"We need to get him to a hospital as quickly as possible," Jerry said as he crouched next to his wounded friend and watched his face. "There's no cell reception here, is there?"
"No," Iola told him, beginning to recover herself. "There wasn't for several miles before we reached here."
"Then we'll have to take him ourselves," Jerry declared. "Come on, guys; we can use the extra blankets to carry him."
"We can't just leave," Iola protested. "Joe might be here somewhere."
They all looked at each other in consternation.
"He might," Jerry said finally. "Or he might not. We've looked all through the house and we didn't find him. We can't waste any time getting Frank to a hospital, or he's not going to survive."
"Then you take him and I'll stay and keep looking for Joe," Iola said.
"You can't stay here alone," Chet told her firmly.
"Nobody is staying here," Jerry added. "As soon as we get to cell reception, we'll call the police and have them come back here to look. I really don't think Joe's here, Iola."
The others agreed with Jerry, and Iola knew it was no use trying to argue. She would just delay them getting help for Frank, and Joe certainly wouldn't want that. Trying hard not to think about what might have happened to Joe, she picked up the flashlights so that she could lead the way for the others.
Using the blankets to make a sort of stretcher, the three men and Maria each took a corner and carried Frank upstairs. They got him out to their vehicle and laid him in the back seat. The girls and Chet had to crouch as well as they could on the floor of the back seat, while Jerry drove and Biff got the front passenger seat in view of his height and the difficulty he would have crouching. Then they headed out, each of them praying that Frank could hold on long enough to reach the hospital in Gresham.
