A/N: Again, thank you to everyone who is reading. :-)

I'll Be Home For Christmas

Chapter 9

Vanessa watched, terrified and helpless, as the man who had threatened her grabbed Joe by the shoulder – the right shoulder – and spun him around. Tears filled her eyes as she saw Joe fighting just to stay conscious. The man pulled on his arm violently and Joe fell to his knees.

"Stop, please!" Vanessa cried out. The man locked eyes with her and for a moment she hoped he'd do as she asked. Not taking his eyes off her, he gave Joe's arm another vicious yank and Vanessa choked on a sob. She heard Joe moan painfully and saw fresh blood soaking through the scarf.

"PLEASE!" she begged. "Stop! Leave him alone!" Vanessa prayed for a miracle, ready to do anything to get the armed man to release Joe. As she was about to voice that frightening thought, not knowing if the man would take her up on it, there was a loud banging on the door of the plane. All movement stopped, although the thug did not release his hold on Joe.

The second man stood to the side of the door peering out the small glass window. She heard a muffled voice from the other side but couldn't make out what was said. The man turned to his partner. "It's our pilot."

"Let him in…but frisk him. Make sure he's clean."

Vanessa's heart pounded in her chest. If the pilot was here, that meant they'd soon be airborne and on their way to Canada, where she knew they'd never make it back alive. Looking at Joe, she was on the verge of falling apart – was this really how they were doing to die? Desperate, Vanessa sent out one last prayer for a Christmas miracle. 'Please, God, help us!'

Just then a shadow fell over them as a figure stepped through the doorway. Before Vanessa could turn to look at the newcomer, the man holding Joe released him with a shove. Dangerously close to losing consciousness, Joe tumbled forward landing half on the floor, half on Vanessa's lap.

Vanessa reached out and grabbed him before he hit the floor, desperately trying to hold Joe upright. She watched him struggling to look at her, to focus, to stay conscious when a familiar voice cut straight to her heart.

"I'm your pilot."

Vanessa's head snapped up and her mouth dropped. Frank Hardy was standing just inside the plane staring at her. He moved his head slightly and she realized he was signaling her – 'You don't know me!'. Wrapping her arms around Joe, she imperceptibly nodded her understanding and tried to haul Joe back into the seat. As his dead weight slipped from her arms, she looked up at Frank pleadingly. "C-can you help me? Please?"

Frank hesitated for only a second then brushed by the two thugs. "All passengers have to be belted in before we can even taxi out of the hangar," he said, brooking no room for argument.

Squatting down next to Vanessa he wrapped his arms around Joe's chest and slowly lifted him onto the seat, snapping the seat belt into place. Joe moaned and his eyes fluttered open. He looked at Frank, dazed and confused. Joe opened his mouth as if to speak and Frank looked at Vanessa, a flash of panic in his eyes. "Keep him quiet!" Frank hissed and quickly stood up.

Vanessa reached over and brushed the sweat soaked hair off Joe's face, murmuring softly to him. She watched as Frank's gaze lingered on Joe for a moment. Guilt filled his eyes as he slowly turned away….

oooOOOooo

Turning his back on his injured brother was one of the hardest things Frank had ever done, but if his cover was blown they would all die. Tempering his anger at the two men who had hurt Joe, Frank strode to the pilot's seat, refusing to look at them.

"Buckle up," he said tersely as he began the preflight check. One of the men took a seat directly across the aisle from Joe and Vanessa. The other, the one who'd been holding Joe when Frank arrived, sat in the co-pilot's seat.

"What are you doing?" Frank demanded. "Do you know how to fly?"

"If I knew how to fly I wouldn't need you, now would I?" the man shot back.

"Then what are you doing up here instead of back there with them?" Frank jerked his head towards the rear of the plane.

"I'm just keeping an eye on you, that's all."

Frank did a slow burn but kept his mouth shut, flipping switches and turning knobs.

"So did you volunteer for this job or were you drafted?" the man asked, curiously.

"I volunteered," was Frank's clipped reply.

A hand flashed out and grabbed his wrist. The man leaned close and stared at Frank, his eyes hard and cold. "Why?"

'Crap, this wasn't part of the plan!' Frank fumed. He cursed himself, knowing he should have expected some kind of questioning. But he'd been too worried about simply getting on the plane and seeing for himself how badly Joe was hurt, and now he had to think on the fly.

"Shouldn't you be home with your wife on Christmas Eve?" the man asked.

"She left me," Frank said the first thing that popped into his mind. "Took my daughter too. Last year on Christmas Eve." Seeing the man was distracted by Frank's reply, he surreptitiously flipped the intercom switch. "I hate Christmas," Frank muttered, holding his breath.

He exhaled inwardly when the man chuckled sarcastically. "Yeah, I guess you would," he smirked and settled back in the seat.

"So how bad is he hurt?" Frank asked nonchalantly, jerking his head towards Joe.

"Beats me." the man shrugged indifferently, forcing Frank to use every ounce of self-control he possessed not to throttle him. "Took a bullet in the shoulder; been bleeding all over the damn place!" he said angrily. "He wouldn't be hurt at all if he didn't insist on playing hero."

Frank choked on the anger bubbling up in his throat and finished his preflight check. Glancing over his shoulder, he looked at Joe. Glazed blue eyes stared back at him through half-opened lids, as if Joe wasn't really sure he could trust what he was seeing. Frank shifted his gaze to Vanessa, who was pressing a bloodstained glove against Joe's arm, presumably to stop the bleeding. "Everybody buckled up?" he asked tightly.

After getting a round of affirmative responses, Frank fired up the plane's engines and slowly taxied out of the hangar.