Disclaimers: I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with TNA. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination.
Chapter Content & Trigger Warnings: None this chapter
Chapter 39
"Yes, Jeff, we finally have a lead," Joe smiled as he talked to Jeff on his cell phone. "Just don't get your hopes up yet. I'm not sure Mrs. Fournier—or Ms. Jameson as she's going by now—will know anything about where he is right now." He looked over at Matthew, who was driving the SUV they'd rented, and asked, "How far are we from her home?"
"About five more minutes," Matthew answered, looking at the GPS.
"Okay, Jeff, I need to go. We're fixing to reach her house."
"I still think I should have gone with you guys," Jeff said.
"I know that's what you wanted, Jeff," Joe reasoned. "But think about it. If Fournier is keeping an eye on us, that could be a dangerous move. It's okay for me to go because I already have the time off. But, if you took time off out of nowhere, it'd look strange and could alert Fournier to be on the lookout. It's better this way."
"You're right, I know," Jeff replied. "I just feel so useless with nothing to do to help."
"You're not useless, Jeff, you're just unable to be here right now," Joe replied. "There's a big difference." He noticed Matthew was slowing to a stop, and realized they'd reached Ms. Jameson's house. "Listen Jeff, we're here, so I've gotta go. I'll call you when we're through and let you know if I find anything out."
The two men disconnected the call and then Matthew pulled to a full stop in front of an average sized home.
"This it," Joe asked, pocketing his cell phone.
"Yep," Matthew said, killing the engine. "You ready?"
"More than I can say," Joe answered. "I just hope we get some answers."
Matthew nodded as they both exited the car and headed for the house's front porch.
Joe knocked on the door and only a few seconds later, the door opened to reveal an auburn-haired woman who was approaching middle age.
"Can I help you," she asked, eyeing both Joe and Matthew wearily.
"Ms. Jameson," Matthew spoke first and used her alias so as not to frighten her initially, "We have a few questions in regard to a kidnapping that we're sure your husband is responsible for."
"I'm sorry," she said softly, "You have the wrong person. I'm not married."
She started to close the door when Joe stuck his foot out and prevented the door from shutting. Then he barged his way in with Matthew right behind him.
We have no time for 'subtle', Joe thought as Matthew calmly clicked the door shut so as not to frighten the woman any more than they had to. She's not the enemy, he reminded himself. She can't help what her husband turned out to be.
"We can do this the easy way, or the hard way," he finally told her. "But either way you choose, you are going to help us. We're not going to hurt you, Ms. Jameson, but we know exactly who you are. You're married to Jacques Fournier and you went into the Witness Relocation Program when he became abusive and you found out he was a criminal.
"Please, I don't know anything," Ms. Jameson cried. "Please, don't kill me."
Matthew and Joe realized she must have thought they were in organized crime and that they were looking for her husband.
"We're not who you think," Matthew spoke up. "Why don't we sit down and talk. You won't be scared of us once you know why we're here."
"O-okay," Ms. Jameson stammered shakily, and then led them to her living room and motioned for them to have a seat on the large sofa while she took an armchair. "What's this about exactly?"
Joe looked over at Matthew, "Is it okay if I take over for now?" At Matthew's nod, Joe turned back to Ms. Jameson and began explaining their presence in her home. "Ms. Jameson, when you faked your death and went into the Witness Relocation Program, the U.S. Marshals used a surgeon to pretend he'd operated on you but was unsuccessful in saving you, do you remember that?"
She nodded wordlessly, seemingly afraid that by verbally acknowledging her involvement with the Witness Relocation Program, Fournier would pop out somewhere and kill her right then and there.
"Well, that surgeon—Dr. Roberts—was targeted because he failed to save you. Fournier blamed him and planned, over the span of three years, to murder both Dr. Roberts and his wife. And then he wanted to kidnap their eighteen-year-old daughter and get her pregnant. In his warped mind he was rightfully taking what was his. Dr. Roberts killed you, so he was going to kill his wife and him. Dr. Roberts killed his unborn child, so he was going to replace the child by using the doctor's daughter, Ella, and getting her pregnant. Fournier even went as far as to murder the innocent man whom posed as the drunken driver."
"Oh, my God," Ms. Jameson whispered. "But…how did you come to know all this," she asked. "This was all in a sealed file for my protection."
"Let's just say I'm really good with computers," Matthew answered. "And that's another reason why you should help us get him, Ms. Jameson. If I can get into that file, so can he."
She gasped, realization dawning.
Joe went on, eager to get her to understand the dire situation fully.
"Ms. Jameson, Ella was my best friend when we were younger. After she recovered from Fournier's first kidnapping attempt—during which she almost died—she became my wife. But only for a few short hours. We found out that Fournier was making another attempt to kidnap her on our wedding night. Later on that night, during a distraction, Ella took the opportunity to run away and fake her death. I just stumbled across her a few months ago, and so did Fournier. He tried to kill our daughter who I'd only found out about minutes before, and then very nearly killed me with a gunshot to the chest. And to top it all off, he finally succeeded in taking Ella."
"I don't understand," Ms. Jameson said, her forehead wrinkling with confusion. "I mean, I'm very sorry for what's happened to you and your wife and your daughter and anyone else he's hurt, but what do you think I can do to help?"
"I know there are no guarantees by meeting with you," Joe answered. "But I'm hoping you could tell me of any properties or homes your husband owns—somewhere he might be keeping my wife. Do you know of-"
At that moment his cellphone alerted him to an incoming text message. He pulled out the phone and read the message.
"Daddy, I'm SO glad you found Mom! Me and Uncle Jeff can't wait to meet you in Denver! Tell Mama I love her! I love you both so much!"
Matthew knew something had gone terribly wrong when the large Samoan's face paled drastically.
"Joe…" he started.
"Dear God," Joe cried under his breath. "Miracle… I think Fournier has her now."
"Miracle," questioned Ms. Jameson.
"My daughter," Joe clarified. "She texted me that she's happy I found her mother and that she and Jeff can't wait to meet me in Denver. He must have tricked her somehow. He's taking her to Denver, or at least tricked her into thinking she's meeting me there."
"Denver," Ms. Jameson spoke again. "He does have a home in Denver. A very private place right on Sloan's Lake."
"You're sure," Joe questioned. "Could you take us to it?"
She paled drastically, "I-I can tell you where it is…"
"No," Joe cut her off. "Please, I need you to lead us there. I can't take the chance on misunderstanding directions. We can get the U.S. Marshals involved. You'll be safe, Ms. Jameson. Just please, be brave and help my wife and daughter. I know this isn't your fault, but you have an obligation to me." There was fire in Joe's eyes when he spoke again. "I will NOT lose my wife again. And I am not going to lose my daughter when I've hardly gotten to be with her much at all."
Shuddering, Ms. Jameson nodded her head slightly, "Okay. Let me call the U.S. Marshals. The men who helped me escape left me they're contact information should something ever go wrong in my new location. I think this qualifies as an emergency."
As she made the call, Joe quickly made a call to Miracle's cellphone. It rang till it went to her voicemail.
He cursed under his breath and called Jeff to make sure he wasn't in danger as well.
"What'd you find out," Jeff asked in way of greeting.
"Jeff, are you okay? Have you talked to Miracle?"
Jeff sounded baffled, "No. She's in school. Why would- Oh, God… What's happened?"
"I think Fournier has her, Jeff. She left me a text saying how glad she was I'd found Ella and that she and you were both excited to meet us in Denver.
Jeff cursed, "Joe, I'm so sorry. We were being so careful."
"It's not your fault, Jeff. Don't blame yourself. Fortunately, his wife has confirmed he owns a home in Denver. We're getting the U.S. Marshals involved. We're bringing them home, Jeff. I swear on my life. They're coming home."
As soon as he hung up, his phone rang again. Seeing it was Finn calling him, he immediately answered the phone. "Where is Miracle?"
"Joe, I'm so sorry," Finn began. "He took 'er—Fournier. He somehow disguised his voice over the phone—she swore it was Jeff talking to 'er. He said you'd found Ella and d'at ya wanted them t' meet them at the Denver airport. I was skeptical, but waited for Jeff with her. Three men busted out of the car and attacked me. I told her t' run, but the stubborn lass wouldn't listen. She tried t' help me. I'm so sorry."
Joe tried to calm his racing heart, and spoke softly, "I know. It'll be fine. Listen, Finn... We think he's really holding them in Denver. Matt and I are speaking with his wife, and she confirmed that he has a very private place on Sloan's Lake.
"I'm meetin' ya there," Finn said instantly.
"That's not necessary, Finn. We'll get them both-"
"It's necessary to me," the Irishman retorted. "This is personal for me now. She trusted me t' keep her safe, and I failed her. I may not get to be the one to save 'er, but I'm sure going to be there so I can apologize to 'er. I'm. Coming. To. Denver."
"Okay then," Joe replied, impressed with the younger man. "We'll see you soon."
The two men hung up and hurriedly began preparing for their trip.
}i{}i{}i{}i{
"Get away from me," Ella screamed, slapping at Fournier's hand.
He held a hypodermic needle full of the paralyzing toxin he'd developed, and was trying to inject her with it. Ella could only presume he meant to paralyze her so he could more easily murder her unborn baby.
He slapped her face, but did back off. Her relief was short-lived as he smirked at her.
"Fine," he said, giving up a little too easily, "I think I have just the thing that will change your mind." And with that, he left her alone with the unspoken promise of his imminent return.
She trembled with fear, knowing he'd not give up till her child was dead. She feared he'd bring Jeff, or Nina, or her cousins in next to torture her with.
But, no. To her horror, he returned, dragging Miracle behind him. She watched in speechless horror as he unlocked her door and flung the girl into the cage with her. Terrified of what would happen to her daughter, Ella broke down into a fit of heart-broken sobs.
"Mama," Miracle cried, and latched onto her mother. "Thank God! You're alive!"
"Oh, lo'u alofa, I wish you weren't here," Ella cried, hugging her daughter back.
"You have a choice to make, Ella," Fournier cut in on their bittersweet reunion. "The baby can die, or they both die. You have an hour to decide." He turned and exited the cage, then locked it behind him before shutting the exterior door and disappearing from sight.
"The baby," Miracle asked, wrinkling her forehead in confusion. It was then that her gaze fell to Ella's well-rounded stomach.
"Oh, my God," she whispered. "You're pregnant."
Ella nodded and bit back a sob as she stroked her hand lovingly over her stomach, "It's a little boy. He's your father's."
Oh, Joe. I miss you so much, she thought. She didn't mention his name for fear of bringing more sadness to Miracle's eyes. And besides, she had to focus on the situation at hand.
Saving both her children.
"Baby," she whispered, in case Fournier had the room bugged. "How did he get you?"
"Well," Miracle started, "He got me at school. He somehow made himself sound like Uncle Jeff on the phone. He told me you were found and that we needed to leave to meet you and Daddy in Denver."
"Denver," Ella repeated. "So, we're in Denver?"
"I think so," Miracle replied. "It's really cold outside.
Ella frowned, "That'll make it hard for us to escape. We don't have coats or anything."
"Mommy, what can we do," Miracle asked. "There's got to be something we can do to stop him."
"There's only one thing we can do," Ella replied, gathering her courage one last time, for her children. "We have to fight—both of us. We have to fight with everything we have."
They began whispering, planning out their line of attack.
}i{}i{}i{}i{
Joe looked down at the earth below the helicopter he rode in as he traveled along with Matthew and Ms. Jameson and a large team of U.S. Marshals. They were headed for Denver and due to arrive in the next hour. Lightning flashed, and every now and then the helicopter would rock back and forth due to the turbulence.
He heard one of the marshals address him through the headphones he wore.
"Mr. Seanoa, I need your word right now. When we get to the location, you're to hang back. Stay in the chopper. This mission isn't your responsibility—it's ours. Am I clear?"
Joe met the U.S. Marshal's gaze head-on, "What? Are you going to abort rescuing my wife and daughter if I don't abide by your terms?"
"No, of course not. But we can have you placed under arrest."
"Fine," Joe growled, carefully evading the initial request.
He had no intention of staying in the helicopter.
There's no way I'm staying here when my wife and daughter need me, he thought. He wasn't sure yet how he'd do it, but he'd have to get past the marshals. They will not stop me from going to them, he vowed. I will not rest till I have them safe in my arms again.
