Well, today is probably going to be a two for one deal, because I took so long to write this chapter, I am almost ready to post the next chapter after this one. I hope you guys have enjoyed this story, it's coming down to the last few chapters. You guys have been so awesome and supported this story, it's been amazing.

Now, reviews!

Candylou: Yep, at least there out. Well well well, we will see how they fare.

t4swp: Thanks! I'm glad you enjoyed it!

Alrighty guys, hope you enjoy! I should get the next chapter out by late tonight or tomorrow morning.


Frank groaned and brought his hands up to rub his face. That only wiped more blood across his face. He blinked until his eyes opened fully and he saw his father kneeling over him.

"Frank? You ok?" Frank heard his father's voice, but it was off in the distance. Frank pushed himself with his hands until he sat up on his own. He saw the road in front, smoke billowing out of the hood of the car as it laid on the road bent and smashed up.

"What happened?" He asked, running a hand through his messed up hair.

"The bodyguards did," Joe answered this time, sitting in his own spot a few feet away. One knee was brought up near his chest and the other leg was stretched out in front of him, pants stained with blood. His arm lay limply across his legs, also covered in blood, glass pieces sticking out of various places. The left side of his face was a dark red, all the blood that had run down his face and on the collar of his shirt was all dried up. He looked like crap, and Frank guess he looked about the same.

"When Antonio was arrested, he was alone. There was nobody else with him." Fenton added.

"Exactly," Joe said, emphasizing his point by holding out a piece of grass he had been playing with at Frank, never looking up from the ground. "While Antonio stuck around to blow up the ship while we were still on it, the bodyguards took their clue and got the heck outta dodge. They needed to finish the job."

Frank wiped his bloody hand on the hem of his shirt, grunted as some of the red was still stuck on the skin. A cut on his cheek was the source of blood on his face, and his head hurt from the crash, but mostly he was fine. A few scraps of glass here, a few bruises here, he was all good. He was on some pretty strong pain medication for his back, so he barely even felt anything there. So the concern shifted onto the next person.

"Joe, you alright?"

Joe kept his eyes towards the ground, just playing with the blade of grass in his one hand. He was leaning up against a tree behind him, letting that support most of his weight. With every breath his body hurt, his ribs poking at his insides. His head pounded and his shoulder was on fire, just adding extra pain.

"I'm fine," He said through gritted teeth, trying to keep his breathing even. He shut his eye tightly, keeping the dizziness at bay. He didn't even need to look up to know that Frank was staring at him, not believing his statement.

Frank gave him one last glance, knowing that Joe wasn't going to tell him anymore so he just dropped the topic. "Dad?"

Fenton looked at his son and gave a small smile. "I'm good, Frank. I'm good." A goosebump on the middle of his forehead was crusted with blood, and some pieces of glass were embedded into his arm.

The revving of engines brought everyone's attention up to the street, where a truck came barreling down the road. The color and build were the same as the truck that hit them, and immediately Fenton and Frank were standing up and alert. The truck's back tires smoked as the driver slammed on the brakes, stopping in the middle of the intersection.

Joe used the tree behind him to help himself up and was immediately assaulted by a wave of dizziness and black spots in front of his eyes. The ground swayed at his feet and he couldn't seem to stand upright. He carried his right arm near his chest, and his legs were on fire with any bit of pressure put on him. All the adrenaline that made him able to get his father and Frank out of the destroyed car was gone, and he was running on fumes.

"So, slight problem," Joe called out, grabbing his father and Frank's attention. He took a wobbly step towards them, before he collapsed and hit the ground, passed out. Frank ran over to his kid brother while looking over his shoulder to watch the criminal's bodyguards step out of the car. Fenton swore under his breath as they started walking towards them.

"C'mon Joe, you had to do this right now?" Frank mumbled under his breath as he grabbed Joe from under the shoulders and laid him beside the tree, so he had some cover but he could also keep on eye on them.

Fenton ran over to their car, slamming open the driver's door and frantically looking around inside. Frank stood with his feet shoulder width apart, fists hanging tightly at his sides, preparing to fight. Simultaneously, the guards reached back behind them and pulled out two handguns, pointing them directly at Frank.

"Dad, gun!" Frank called out, alerting his father.

"Already ahead of you." Fenton ran back to his eldest with his own handgun gripped tightly in his two hands. The bodyguards stopped, staring at Fenton and Frank from their side of the road. They faced off from opposite sides of the road, neither side taking any more territory.

"What are we going to do about Joe?" Frank stage-whispered to his father, shooting a glance at his younger brother laying on the ground next to the tree.

"We can't do anything right now," Fenton whispered back, "We need to deal with those two."

Frank stared at the bodyguards with a glare that could burn down a building. "What do you want?" He screamed across the road, making sure the guards could hear him loud and clear.

The guards low, guttural voice called back, barely loud enough for them to be heard. "To finish the job."

All was silent for the moment. "What's the job?"

"Kill the Hardy boys."