Disclaimer: I do not own the Hardy Boys or any of the book characters.
Thank you: Wendylouwho10 who read over the story for me and made content suggestions, helped with the flow, and provided some spelling/grammar corrections. Typos are mine and I discover them all the time. :-)
Rating/Setting: Rating is T. Setting is blue spine-ish and AU. Timeline: Taken; Recovery; Retribution; Wild Pitch; and now this story. While you don't NEED to read the previous stories, things will be referenced and perhaps even some from my younger Hardys stories.
Author's Note: I'll be out of town tomorrow (my normal posting day) so I'm going to post a day early. There are 3 chapters left after this one! The story is winding down! Thanks to all who have read and/or reviewed.
Chapter Nineteen
Frank accepted the congratulations of everyone in the locker room with a smile but inside he was a bundle of nerves; his injuries didn't even pain him for the moment. Seeing Joe lying on the mat like that had disturbed him more than he cared to admit. His parting comment to Joe wasn't a part of the act but a way to reassure himself that things were okay. Joe's quip back made him feel better but learning that the medic and Carstairs had taken Joe and Vanessa into the office had started a whole different nerve problem for him.
Unable to stall any longer, Frank left with the others in the van. As they had walked past the office door, they could hear voices but that was all.
"Still bet he's faking," Marcus said as they headed up the stairs.
"Maybe," Frank replied as he took one more glance over his shoulder at the door at the bottom of the stairs.
.**********.
Carstairs was frowning at the young couple as they argued. Joe had explained the history of his heart condition and now Vanessa was venting.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Vanessa said loudly to Joe.
Joe let exasperation creep into his voice. "I didn't want you harping on me. It hardly ever bothers me. I haven't even had to take one of those pills in years."
Vanessa crossed her arms. "But yet you have them in your gym bag."
Looking away from her, Joe replied, "Well, when you've had an episode, you just like to be prepared."
Harper looked at the bottle he had retrieved from Joe's bag. "This prescription expired a year ago. You really should get it refilled." He looked to Carstairs. "He's telling the truth in that this bottle is almost full; he hasn't been taking them."
"So how bad is this?" Carstairs waved his hand in the air indicating what was going on with his new fighter.
Harper glanced at the young man sitting in the chair. "If he's right and it is hypertrophic cardiomyopathy then it could be life-threatening in some situations."
Joe went to argue when Carstairs raised his hand. "In what kinds of situations?"
"Prolonged exercise, stress, high cardio sports."
"And what could happen?" Carstairs continued.
Harper looked at Joe and said, "Sudden cardiac death is the worst case. Best case is what you saw here tonight – heart arrhythmia, loss of breath, dizziness, nausea. This is the condition that causes the unexpected death of young sports athletes."
"And what is your recommendation?"
"He's a liability. He could die on you at any time."
Joe said nothing as Vanessa threw her arms around him and sobbed, "Don't do this anymore, Jake. Please."
"Well, young man?" Carstairs asked.
"I think I should call it quits," Joe muttered
Carstairs nodded. "I'll get a second opinion. Let's talk about it in a couple of days."
"Okay," Joe replied.
"And take it easy for the next few days," Harper added. "No workouts."
Joe nodded. "Can I go now?"
"Yes," Carstairs responded. "Have your girl drive you home. I'm sure the others have already left."
Joe and Vanessa stood. They were relieved that nothing had prompted any questions in regards to the room and both Carstairs and Harper had been accepting of Joe's explanation regarding his heart condition. They quickly gathered Joe's things and both breathed a sigh of relief when they exited the building.
Almost done, Joe thought as he painfully climbed into the car.
.**********.
Carstairs watched Petrov and his girl leave and signaled Harper that he could leave as well. Sitting back in the black leather office chair, he heard the sounds of the clean-up crew and the ticking clock. Damn, he thought. Why'd the kid have to have a heart condition? We've never made this much money in one night. He pulled his cell phone out of his shirt pocket and scrolled through his contacts until he came to the name, Dr. Harry Corning. He waited as the number rang.
"And what has you calling my number so late at night, Ethan?"
Carstairs drummed his fingers on the desk restlessly. "I've got a fighter with a heart condition."
"Sounds like you should cut him loose," Corning responded evenly.
"I would do it except we pulled in the biggest payout ever tonight and he was a big part of that."
"The biggest ever?" Corning asked in surprise.
"Yeah. Ever. Do you know how much… merchandise we could purchase with those kinds of numbers?"
"What's his condition?"
Carstairs picked up the piece of paper on the desk. "He says it's hypertrophic cardiomyopathy."
"That's a pretty serious condition. All sorts of bad things could happen with that including sudden cardiac death," Corning said carefully.
"That's what the medic here said. You're not going to be out here any time soon are you? I'd love for you to check him out."
"Ethan, I'm a general practitioner. I don't specialize in cardiology. And no, I'm not going to be in the Detroit area anytime soon."
Carstairs was quiet for a moment. "How likely is it for him to have another attack? The prescription he had was a year out of date and he said he hadn't used any of the pills in almost two years."
"Ethan, he probably hasn't been under the physical pressure and mental stress that you have there before. Or he hasn't for at least a number of years. There's no guarantee that it won't happen. What are you thinking?"
"I know that a rematch between him and the other guy, who is our top fighter, will net us big money. I hate to just let it go. I think I can talk him into one more fight. He didn't seem that concerned about the condition. His girlfriend on the other hand…."
"What will you do if he dies?" Corning asked. "You have to be prepared for that possibility."
Carstairs thought for a moment. "Harper, the medic, has access to a medical transport vehicle. If he has a heart attack, we'll take him to the vehicle. Harper can do what he can and if he can't bring him back, then we'll find a way to dispose of the body."
"And the girl?"
"We'll get her to clean out the apartment and then we'll take care of her too."
"Sounds like a plan. You really think the fight will be that big?"
Carstairs smiled as he sat up in the chair. "Yeah, I do. I think that a number of our patrons that only post bids electronically will come in person to see this fight and the money they lay down will be huge." He shook his head. "You should see these two guys. They can't stand each other and the best thing for us is that they could probably be working towards being professionals at this."
"Just be careful, Ethan. We've worked hard to get this process running smoothly the way it is. We don't want to do anything to draw the attention of the police or other government agencies."
"Don't worry, Harry, we won't. I'll let you know how it turns out."
"Do that," Corning responded and hung up.
Carstairs tapped the phone lightly on his chin. Now he just had to convince Petrov to stay for one more fight.
.**********.
Sunday morning, 10 a.m.…
A knock sounded at the door and Vanessa hurried to get it. Joe was still asleep and she didn't want to wake him. She looked through the peep hole to see Ethan Carstairs. Her heart began to pound as she stepped back and put a hand to her chest. The knock sounded again. She looked through the peep hole again; he seemed to be alone. Carefully, she cracked the door open. "Can I help you?"
"I'm sorry, I've forgotten. It's Ms.?"
"Duval, but you can call me Valerie. Mr. Carstairs, right?" Carstairs had only interacted with her a couple of times and she wasn't surprised that he hadn't paid attention. After all, Joe was the one he was interested in.
"Yes. I was hoping to speak with Jake for a few minutes."
Vanessa glanced behind her and opened the door enough that Carstairs could see Joe's form in the bed. "He's still sleeping off last night." She frowned. "This isn't about getting him to fight anymore is it?"
Carstairs smiled back, "I just want to see how he's doing and let him know what his options are."
Vanessa frowned some more. "I'll tell him you were here."
"Better yet, tell him to call me."
"I'll do that."
Carstairs' smile turned hard. "See that you do, Valerie, or I'll be calling him."
She nodded and closed the door. Her heart was still racing. For a minute there she thought they had found out about mission to get the files. But it was something else. She thought for a moment and then walked over to the bed.
Joe had just gone to bed in shorts after his shower and pain meds the night before. The sheet was now around his waist and the bruising on his ribs was prominent. There was a bruise on his jaw and his bottom lip was split and swollen. In fact, the whole left side of his face was bruised from Frank's hits. It was just turned away into the pillow at the moment and harder to see. Wonder what Frank looks like? She thought to herself. According to Teresa, Frank rarely got more than a couple of bruises.
She glanced back toward the door. ORT had been so certain that Zendel's would let them go after learning of the heart condition. After the conversation with Carstairs, she wasn't so sure. The crowd was large last night and Zendel's take had to be substantial. How much would they be willing to risk to get another payoff like that? After all, what was the life of a teenager with a criminal record compared to the money they could make for their cause? She moved over to the bed and gently shook Joe's shoulder. "Joe."
Joe moved a little and said, "Ow. Everything hurts. Wait, maybe not everything." He blinked as he looked at his left pinky finger. "Yep, everything hurts."
"I'd have let you sleep more, but Carstairs was just here."
Joe pushed up but then lay back down quickly as his ribs and abdominal muscles protested the sudden movement. "What'd he want?" he asked in a pained whisper.
"To talk to you."
"About the fight?"
"He didn't say, but when I asked if he was here to get you to fight again, he wouldn't answer," Vanessa replied as she moved toward the kitchenette. Grabbing a bottle of water and the ibuprofen, she headed back toward the bed. "You're to call him later or he'll be calling you."
Joe took the pills and the water but didn't say anything for a moment. "I'll get ready and we'll go down to the cafeteria for lunch and see what the talk is. I'll call Carstairs after that and maybe you can grab a coffee later this evening." After she nodded, Joe laid back down on the bed. "I think I'll wait for the pills to kick in before I get up though."
Vanessa smiled and headed for the bathroom. "I'll grab my shower first then. Go ahead and nap and I'll wake you up when I come out."
"Sounds like a great plan," Joe responded without opening his eyes.
.**********.
It was 2:00 Sunday and Joe was sitting in the downstairs office of Zendel's with Carstairs. It was just the two of them but Joe wasn't very worried. Carstairs had hinted at wanting to discuss his health and the options he had. If he had wanted to bust any of them for what happened the previous night, he could have done that already. No, this was about the fight alone.
"So you're feeling okay now, Jake?"
"Yeah, but I told you that on the phone."
Carstairs chuckled. "So you did. So you did. Just making sure you didn't say something like that to make your girlfriend feel better."
Joe shrugged and winced. "I hurt but it's the kind of hurt that comes from getting kicked in the ribs not the kind that comes from my heart beating too fast."
"Well, THAT is good to hear because I have a proposition for you."
Joe shook his head. "I can't fight, Mr. Carstairs. After getting back to the apartment I realized how easy it would have been for me to just have died out there."
Carstairs looked thoughtful. "Is that you or your girlfriend talking."
Joe's face was serious. "It's me talking."
Putting up his hands in a placating gesture, Carstairs hurriedly said, "Okay. Okay." Then putting his hands down, he continued, "The fight last night was the biggest we ever had. Here's your take for the night." Carstairs wrote a number on the paper and turned it toward Joe. Joe couldn't help his eyes bulging at the amount. "I just wanted to offer you one more chance to take Winder down. I can guarantee double this amount if you'll fight."
Joe looked from the number to Carstairs. "Can- can I just think about it?"
"Sure, kid. But don't string me along. I want an answer tonight so I can either start building the hype for the rematch or start planning a new Main Event ticket."
Joe nodded and looked at the dollar amount on the paper and then back to Carstairs. "Double."
Carstairs nodded. "Double."
.**********.
Vanessa looked at Joe across the small kitchen table. "That's a lot of money."
"Yeah. I think something's going on more than the fight," Joe said. "See what ORT tells you. I need to let Carstairs know tonight if I'm going to fight again."
Vanessa reached across the table. "You're not fighting again. You're supposed to have a heart condition."
"I know. But what teenager with no job, no education, and no money is really going to turn down that offer?"
"Blame it on me," she said. "I told you I'd leave you if you fought."
Joe smiled. "Well, I'm sure everyone thinks I do everything you tell me."
Vanessa threw up her hands. "I don't like it."
The smile left Joe's face. "Neither do I." They had both seen Frank in the cafeteria and he looked every bit as bad as Joe. There had been a small bandage on the cut on his forehead and a black eye. He was also walking slowly, just like Joe. "But I don't really have a heart condition so it's not like it's really going to kill me."
Rolling her eyes, Vanessa said, "And it's when you say things like that that bad things happen."
Joe smiled, "You know you sound just like my brother sometimes."
Vanessa laughed, "Oh, you're a real charmer saying things like that."
"Charm, good looks, yep, I've got it all," Joe joked back.
Vanessa continued to laugh as she stood up. "I'm getting some soda to wash down all that charm you've been feeding me."
Joe smiled as she headed to the fridge. They'd ended the conversation light-hearted, but he was still worried about participating in another fight.
.**********.
That evening Vanessa walked back into the apartment closing the door loudly behind her. Dropping her keys and purse on the counter, she walked over to put a small bag and coffee cup on the table in front of Joe. He couldn't tell by her face how she felt about her communication with ORT. "Well?"
She sighed and sat down across from him. "Tell Carstairs you'll do it, but just this one time."
"Why?"
"There has been a lot of traffic on the system regarding bets if you and Winder fight again. The numbers are pretty big. ORT also thinks that some of the players that only have code names and overseas bank account numbers might show up at the fight."
"How can the fight be that big? We're unknowns," Joe said with a frown.
"It seems that people like the excitement of it being illegal…" her voice tapered off.
"And?"
Vanessa looked him in the eye as she said, "And there's a side bet running on whether you'll have another attack."
Joe breathed out heavily. "That's perverted," he finally said.
"I don't understand it either, but it seems they're willing to have the equipment set up in the office to run an EKG on you if you do."
Joe just stared at her for a moment. "Does ORT actually want us to fight, or just act like we will?"
"They plan on waiting until just before the match to bust everyone. No one has ever reported guns at the event and if there are, ORT doesn't expect them to use them. After all, there isn't but one really good way out of the facility."
Joe nodded. There were only a couple of small windows with locked grates on the inside. No one would be going out unless they went through the main stairwell. "Okay. I'll call Carstairs and tell him the fight is on." Joe pulled out his phone and dialed the number. "It's Petrov. I'll do it." There was pause as Carstairs spoke. "Okay, but this is it." Joe pressed the end call button and dropped the phone on the table. He looked up at Vanessa. "Two weeks. Saturday night Main Event." Joe stood and headed for the bathroom. "I'm going to take another shower." He thought he was pretty much done but it seemed like there was no getting out yet. He climbed into the shower to think things through.
.**********.
"What?!" Frank said way too loudly in the laundry room of the complex. He looked to the door and lowered his voice. "They want us to do what?"
"You won't have to fight but they plan on waiting until your fight to come in." Vanessa's voice was very low and the rumbling of the washing machine on the spin cycle was loud enough to cover their lowered voices. "There's people they won't be able to get to unless they catch them at the fight."
Frank stared at her for a minute and said, "It makes sense, but I just don't like the two of you being here any longer than you need to be."
"Two weeks and it'll be over," she replied.
With a nod he turned and left the room.
