Again I must apologize for being so late. Maybe I should write a story of my life right now instead, but that may just be too pitiful...

Thank you so much for your kind reviews and messages. I haven't forgotten about the smut, don't worry, but it didn't fit here. It will be coming!

A special thank you to Stayce for all the help and encouragement, and especially for listening to me whine!!

Disclaimer: All characters are borrowed from JE, the title is borrowed from Bon Jovi

Warning: Bad language and adult content

Keep the Faith

Chapter 21

I went to grab my phone off the nightstand, but one look at my watch changed my mind. If the meeting wasn't over yet, it was in full swing. No way was I going to interrupt that.

It had taken me longer than I'd expected to read through the reports and to get some kind of action plan. I'd spent over an hour reading up on DalBo, and somehow I was less scared of him now that I'd discovered his weakness. Food.

It was a weakness I could identify with and that had taken some of the fear out of me. I'd have a hard time trying to tell Ranger how I'd discovered it in the reports about DalBo, it was a hunch and not one of those provable facts that he liked. Ranger usually didn't say anything, but his look told me exactly what he thought about my spidey sense and it mostly said I was amusing him. This one had my spidey sense tingling like crazy though, I was positive I had it right.

There were several entries about meetings in the reports. DalBo always conducted his meetings in Germany at restaurants. But not at Italian restaurants, even though his parents were Italians who had immigrated to Germany, Eric DalBo always got together with his cronies at traditional German restaurants. And always just one of two restaurants, he didn't vary it.

When he arrived in Trenton and started working for Harry, he'd become a frequent customer at the German deli on Broad Street almost immediately. It would have to be very frequent for it to make the report, no other places were listed at all.

He was a silent partner in several companies that manufactured or supplied food to grocery stores, and he was under investigation by Europol for smuggling food. Eric DalBo was a foodie. It was so weird, it was funny.

I even had a plan how we could find him, it looked like all we had to do was stake out Elke's Deli, he'd show up when he was hungry. That sounded so silly, I knew Ranger was going to laugh at me. He didn't know what it was like to crave real food and crave it in such a way that nothing else would do.

I went to the bathroom to freshen up to get ready to meet with Harry. I still had to come up with what to tell Ranger. He would definitely ask what had made up my mind. I could just tell him that I'd been afraid of DalBo, not of Harry, but I was wondering if that was the whole truth. And I seriously questioned my sanity if the knowledge that a psychopath loved food as much as I did made him less scary.

That had to mean there was something else I'd read in the reports, right? Something sane? I had to re-check. If this Hartung guy was feeling chatty, I could always just ask him if I was right, but something told me if Hector hadn't had any luck, I would strike out as well. I wasn't really good at this interrogation stuff anyway.

I was re-reading the reports a fourth time, my notes were several pages long, when I heard the locks in the door tumble.

Ranger joined me in the living room where I was sitting on the couch a few seconds later. "Everything okay?" he asked, squatting down in front of me.

I nodded and waved the file for emphasis. "I went over DalBo's file."

"I was worried since nobody'd heard from you. If you want to make your lunch date, you'd have to leave right about now. Do you want to go to the meeting?"

I jumped up, almost knocking Ranger over. But he was quick enough to sidestep me. I'd totally lost all track of time! It was 11:15.

"Yep, I want to meet Harry. I figure he's the only one with the answers we need."

I practically ran into the bedroom to change into a somewhat more respectable outfit of brown slacks and a white blouse. Ranger caught up with me when I rushed into the bathroom to put on my make-up. I saw him frown at me in the mirror.

"You sure you okay?"
"I'm sure. I guess I was just too overwhelmed this morning." At least that's what I was telling myself in lieu of a real explanation for my change of mind.

"Want me to come with?" Ranger asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

I applied another coat of mascara, then I shook my head 'no'. "I think Harry will be…uhm..." I was searching for the right word.

"More comfortable without me there?" Ranger offered and the hint of a smile played around his lips.

"Yeah, that's it," I confirmed and returned his smile. "Not that you could make anyone uncomfortable…" We both snorted. Ranger was well known for his intimidation routine.

"Of course not," he agreed and stepped behind me, wrapping his arms around me and looking at me in the mirror.

"We need to dress you properly," he said and I knew what he meant. I was probably to wear an ear piece and a microphone, if not even a camera. I had a feeling Ranger was going to be super careful this time.

"How'd the meeting go?" I asked him, applying lip gloss.

"We're all set, just waiting for your go-ahead," he said and smiled again.

Fifteen minutes later, we were in the conference room going over all the details one final time. The Merry Men had all been assigned locations and tasks in the earlier meeting, but Ranger repeated everything for my benefit and to make sure there were no questions.

I was wearing a microphone and an independent panic button and along with the three-team-backup, I had to admit I felt pretty safe.

Ranger took my hand as we all got up to leave the conference room and pulled me towards him.

"It's not too late to back out, you know," he said, wrapping his arms around me. "I'm sure we can find out everything that Harry knows ourselves."

I grinned. "Are you being nice or are you afraid for me?"

"A little bit of both I guess," he admitted, grinning back. "I know he's safe as far as mobsters go, but the thought of you alone in there doesn't exactly cheer me up."

"You're worried about me," I said.

Ranger almost-nodded. "Promise me you'll be careful."

"I promise," I all but whispered.

He lowered his head and sealed the promise with a soft kiss, tightening his grip on my hips until I was pressed against him. When I felt his tongue playing around my lips, I relaxed and opened my mouth, touching my tongue to his.

We were alone in the conference room by now and I was grateful for that as I moaned into Ranger's mouth when his tongue stroked mine. My hands were fisted in his shirt and it took all my willpower to not rip it off of him.

He pulled back a little and broke the kiss, cupping my face in his hands. "We're procrastinating."

"I know," I admitted. "But doesn't it feel great?"

He smiled at that, his nose less than an inch from mine. "When we get back, your ass is mine."

I returned his smile. I just loved it when he went all caveman and I especially appreciated it right before our 'mission', it did wonders to distract me.

We rode down the elevator together. The Merry Men were already seated in their cars, only Ranger's seat was still empty next to Tank. My Hummer sat empty next to their Explorer.

Ranger slid a hand under my sweater and I gasped. "Just turning it on, babe," he smirked. 'Yeah, by all means,' I thought.

"Testing one," Ranger said, standing in front of me by my car's driver's side.

Hector did a thumbs up from the passenger seat of his SUV and Ranger opened my driver's door for me. "You'll be fine," he assured me and squeezed my hand.

I hung on to that thought on the way over to Harry's compound. I had paid attention the last time, but I would have never found the mansion again. I was following the GPS' directions, Tank had programmed my destination into it. We had left the garage in a convoy, now only one SUV remained behind me. I knew Zero and Hal were taking a different route to end up around the corner from Harry's place, Bobby and Hector were going to end up half a block from them and Tank and Ranger were going to park across the street. The plan was to look so obvious that they wouldn't look around and find the backup.

I kept telling myself that I had nothing to fear from Harry, that he had promised me his protection. Still, I was so nervous my palms were sweaty. I tried to have the conversation with him in my head to prepare, but I was unable to come up with the right questions. I would just have to improvise.

A half hour later, I rolled to a stop at the white iron gate that sealed off Harry's compound. I didn't remember stopping the last time, so probably the gates had been open awaiting our arrival.

A short Italian guy in a black uniform emerged from the tiny guard house in front of the gate.

"May I help you?" he asked when I rolled down my window.

"I'm Stephanie Plum," I said. "Mr. Garibaldi is expecting me." I was mighty glad I usually paid attention when watching movies so I knew what to say in these situations.

The watchman checked his clipboard and nodded, then he disappeared back into his guard house and pressed a button, or whatever it took to remotely open the gate, because it swung open moments later.

See, I told myself, no biggie. I hadn't even been searched for weapons!

I drove down the road to the mansion and wondered how I could have missed how beautiful it all was last time. Then again, at the time I'd feared for my life, so that explained a lot.

In any case, it was obvious this compound was Harry's pride and joy and he made sure it was well cared for. There were incredibly green lawns to both sides of the driveway and hedges and bushes and trees were all trimmed to perfection.

The massive front door to the house opened just as I approached and the same butler as the last time opened the door, with the same blank expression on his face. My phone rang just as I killed the engine.

"We have a visual on you Babe," Ranger said when I picked up. "We can also hear you loud and clear."

My heart rate slowed down to almost normal. I wasn't alone in this! "Thank you," I said before I lost my nerve and disconnected.

Just as I put the phone back into my pocket, my car door opened. Harry's butler took a step back and held his hand out for me. Right, I reminded myself, I was a guest this time.

"Thank you," I said as I took his hand and he helped me out of the car. I followed him to the front door.

"Mr. Garibaldi is waiting for you in the lunch room," he informed me and I followed him down the marble tiled front hall. 'James' finally opened a pair of wooden double doors and announced me. "Miss Plum has arrived," he said as he took a step aside.

I took a deep breath and walked past him, towards the large mahogany dining table Harry was sitting at. In any other house, this room would probably have been the formal dining room, with its table large enough for twelve and the mahogany china cabinets lining the wall. For Harry, it was the lunch room.

"Miss Plum," he exclaimed and jumped up. He was wearing a red cotton sweater and khakis, a look that shouldn't have worked but did, and his hair looked freshly cut.

"Mr. Garibaldi," I replied for lack of anything better to say and willed my feet to walk closer. "Thank you for inviting me." I knew that he knew he could call me Stephanie. But if I insisted on that, he might ask me to call him Harry, and that would feel to weird. I've never talked about him as anything else but Harry the Hammer, but it would be a whole other ball of wax to call him that to his face.

It was just me and him in the room after the butler closed the doors behind him. The table was already set with soup and sandwiches, glasses were filled with ice water. Just a friendly business lunch. Except one of the people having lunch was a renowned mobster who had a reputation for getting rid of people that looked at him the wrong way. At least that's how the rumor went.

He motioned for me to sit and I mechanically sat down. My throat was suddenly dry so I was glad I didn't have to ask for water. And then the smell of the cold cuts and pickled vegetables wafted into my nose and my stomach growled loudly.

"Eat, eat," Harry encouraged me, taking a sandwich roll himself.

I've always been an emotional eater, and my anxiety was bound to get better if I started eating. Besides, I really was hungry.

Two fully loaded rolls and a glob of potato salad later, I sat back, much calmer now. Halfway through my first sandwich, I'd managed to block Harry out and think myself to my happy place, a Macy's shoe sale. Now it was time for business.

I cleared my throat. "About Vinnie and Joyce…" I started, hoping he'd take it from there. He did.

"It appears my associates have interfered with your schedule," Harry said.

I gripped the table top, telling myself to stay calm. I wanted information from him, I reminded myself. If I flew off the handle, I'd upset him and he wouldn't tell me anything.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, counting to ten. "That's one way to put it," I managed to put it diplomatically.

Harry was watching me carefully, maintaining his calm exterior, but his eyes belied him. He had his elbow on the armrest of his chair and his fingers steepled under his chin. He maintained eye contact for a moment longer and then he sighed, pulling back to sit up straight.

"As I told you before, Mr. Guzzarella and Mr. DalBo were not acting on my orders."

"But they were working for you," I shot back. "They were the ones who brought me here the first time."

He nodded. "Have you ever been an employer, Stephanie?"

I knew he knew the answer to that, so I just shook my head 'no'.

"Then you wouldn't know what it's like," he said and sighed again. If he was looking for sympathy, he was talking to the wrong woman, I thought, but didn't say anything.

"Most of my associates do as they're told, I know where they are and what they're doing at all times. Guzzarella was different. He was, shall we say, in a probationary period. And now I have to explain to my good friend Ivan why his son is in trouble."

Yeah, I would have loved to have Harry's problems. I had to explain to his 'good friend Ivan' why his son wanted me dead and I had no clue! I'd noticed that Harry had had no problem talking about Guzzarella in the past tense and wondered how much he'd had to do with the murder.

"DalBo had me kidnapped," I said, anxious to get the discussion back to the topic that interested me. "And when the cops stopped us, he or his men ran away. I was taken to a hospital where he sent an 'associate' to kill me." I resisted making airquotes, but I put as much sarcasm as possible into the word 'associate'.

"I know," Harry said and nodded for emphasis. "And I truly regret any problems my employees caused for you. I'm trying to tell you that they acted on their own accord though, not on orders from me."

Now it was my turn to sigh. "I know that. But I was hoping you could help me find DalBo to…uhm…let me get back to my job."

That's all I wanted, after all. True, I let Harry decide what job that would be, but still.

"I wish it was that easy," Harry sighed. "I only learned last night where Guzzarella was, there hasn't been a sign of Eric. That's the reason I'm avoiding his father's calls at the moment. I'd rather not admit he outsmarted me. Ivan and I don't have that kind of friendship."

As if I really cared about what relationship he had with anyone! Another deep breath. "Well I can't take care of Joyce Barnhardt if I have to look over my shoulder all the time, expecting another attack from DalBo!"

Harry seemed to be thinking about my statement, or maybe he just had indigestion. But when he opened his mouth to respond, a knock on the door interrupted him. The butler entered and cleared his throat.

"Excuse me, Mr. Garibaldi. There seems to be a problem at the front gate that requires your attention."

God, did everyone around here sound like they went to an English boarding school? I felt like I was thousands of miles away from Jersey instead of a few miles from Trenton.

Harry frowned momentarily, then he remembered I was there and excused himself.

"Have some dessert while you wait," he said and gestured at the mousse au chocolate.

But I had lost my appetite by now. What did the butler mean by 'problem'? Had they spotted the Merry Men? That didn't seem like something they'd bother the boss with, I figured. Unless of course, Ranger had decided to join us, but he was listening to our conversation, there was no reason for him to 'storm the castle'.

Harry moved past me to join the butler, who again closed the doors as soon as Harry had walked through them.

As soon as I was alone in the room, I fished my cell phone out of my purse and dialed Ranger.

"Hi Mom," I said, just in case someone was listening in.

"Don't ever call me that again," Ranger said, but I could hear the smile in his voice.

"I was wondering if you'd heard the latest gossip," I said, pretty proud of my clever decoy.

"I heard the exchange with the butler," he said. "We're checking what could be the problem right now."

"Did you see anything?" I asked, chewing my lower lip. I didn't like the fact that there might be a problem RangeMan didn't know about.

"Hold that thought, I'll call you back," Ranger said by way of replying and disconnected.

Well, that couldn't be good. I listened for any telltale signs of trouble, raised voices, slamming doors, gunshots, but I couldn't hear anything beyond the dining room.

A few minutes went by and I was drumming my fingers on the tabletop. Should I keep waiting? Should I go find Harry? Waiting was one of my least favorite things to do, I thought I deserved credit for holding out this long. It may have been five minutes when I jumped up and practically ran to the door. I pressed my ear against it, and now I could hear muffled voices.

If I stormed out of the room only to interrupt Harry and some other mobster in their negotiations, I might never live it down. But on the other hand, if I stayed on this side of the door, I might die of curiosity.

I took a deep breath and turned the doorknob. Another deep breath and I slowly pulled the door open. And then my eyes widened and I slammed it shut again, or rather attempted to, because by that time, the black-clad muscle man with the gun in his hand had slammed his hand against it and was holding it open.

Shit! Why had I left my gun at home? Oh yeah, because I didn't want to be frisked by Harry's men.

I'd only seen the guy for a split second, but I was almost positive it wasn't one of the Merry Men. If it had been, he would have said something to make me recognize him. I pushed against the door with my entire body, even though I knew the guy had at least 100 pounds on me and could push me away like a rag doll. I just felt I had to at least try.

"Keep pushing and I'll shoot my way in," Mr. Muscle said and I really couldn't argue with that logic.

I pressed the panic button at my belt and took a step forward, lifting my hands so he could see I was unarmed. The door hit me in the back and I was jolted forward, but I managed to keep my balance. I closed my eyes briefly to say a short prayer, then I turned around.

It was easy to see why I thought he could be a Merry Man. He was about 6'4" and easily over 250 pounds. Plus he was dressed all in black. And I could see in his eyes that he was all business as he leveled his gun at me.

"Sit down," he ordered, motioning towards the table with his gun.

Behind him, several men rushed past the room, also dressed in black, also none of Ranger's Men.

I did as I was told, since I didn't have any weapons on me. Even if I did, I would probably have been too flustered to use them, and he would have overpowered me easily anyway.

Now I heard shouting from somewhere close and it sounded like Harry.

At least I knew what the 'problem' had been now. Someone had broken into the house with what seemed like a small army. And that must have happened before I'd arrived because I was sure Ranger and his men would have interfered if they'd witnessed the operation.

I flinched at the sound of gunshots. Clearly, my companion didn't like the sound much either, because he took me by the arm and pulled me up, then he shoved me towards the door.

"We're leaving. Move!"

For some reason I was encouraged by the fact that he didn't seem to know what to do with me, I figured that meant he hadn't come here for me. And I hoped that meant he wasn't going to kill me. I considered asking questions and arguing with him, but he didn't look like he was in the mood to answer. He looked more like he'd consider it too much trouble to watch me if I resisted and might just as soon shoot me to shut me up. And truth be told, I didn't have much more fight in me after being harassed and kidnapped and what not in the days before.

He nudged me along around two corners. "Stop," he said just as I was about to walk the length of a corridor. "Open the door on your right."

I did and had a short panic attack at the blackness in front of me. He reached past me and flicked on the light, and I stared down a stairwell into the cellar.

Someone shouted 'Becker!' and my guide replied, "Here!". So now he had a name. Not that it would do me much good to know his name, but it was some information, I figured, not recognizing I was panicking and trying to focus on anything but the armed Hulk behind me.

"Stay down there," Becker ordered and pushed me so hard, I went ass over teakettle down the stairs.

I landed on the cement floor so hard that the air got knocked out of me and I took a moment to take inventory of my body. Miraculously, nothing seemed broken, although everything hurt.

Tomorrow I was going to hurt like a bitch - if I had a tomorrow, I couldn't help adding. I'd be sore and limping for a week.

I looked around the basement, looking for a way out or at least a weapon to defend myself.

The cellar was huge, the size of the whole houseAnd from the amount of stuff in it, Harry was a hoarder. Every piece of furniture, every book, every everything he had ever owned seemed to be crammed in there. And that kind of worked in my favor, I had my pick of useful stuff.

I couldn't know how long I had until they came for me, if they'd locked me in here for good or if they were planning to take me with them or…well, whatever, so I had to think and act fast.

There was an old laundry hamper in the nearest corner, and several garden tools were stuffed into it. I grabbed a child sized hoe and looked up the stairs. Becker had left the light on, so I could clearly see the door. And this hoe in my hand would be the perfect length to jam the door handle, it would at least delay whoever would try to come in.

I bumped against a stack of boxes on my way to the stairs and the first two tumbled over, spilling their contents over the floor. At least a dozen marbles rolled away and I got an idea. I picked them up and stuffed them in my jeans pocket and headed upstairs, pressing the panic button again, just to show whoever was monitoring it I was still alive. Where were they, anyway?

I stuck the hoe under the door handle and it actually held, it was the perfect length. As I went back downstairs, I turned off the light and placed marbles on each step. I knew were the single bare light bulb hung, and I planned to take it out next. If anyone came for me, I didn't want them to discover my little booby trap too soon.

After a couple minutes, my eyes had gotten used to the dim light that fell into the basement through the two tiny windows, and I grabbed a shovel from the garden tools to kill the light bulb. Becker must not have known what was down here, he practically armed me to the teeth. I held on to the shovel and looked around some more.

If I stacked up some boxes, I'd be able to reach a window, but they didn't look like I would fit through. And I really didn't want to get stuck halfway, I'd be helpless like Winnie Pooh.

But there didn't seem to be another exit either, which I thought was kind of weird. I would have expected a door to the outside or something. Nope, only one way in, only one way out.

With one hand on my hip, the other gripping the shovel, I glanced back upstairs. The door was now deep in shadow, I would be able to make out if it was open, even if whoever came in managed to open it soundlessly; I'd see the shaft of light.

Most likely, they'd be heavily armed, so I only had the element of surprise on my side.

I was pretty proud of how proactive I was. Cowering in a corner and awaiting my fate had never crossed my mind.

While I could hear muffled voices, the occasional gun shot and general mayhem from upstairs, no one tried the door handle, giving me time to find the 'perfect' hiding place.

I cleared a space under the stairs first, but then I realized I wouldn't be able to see who was coming. Since they might have a flashlight, I couldn't just stand at the bottom of the stairs either. I wanted to see them though, not just hide and wait to be found. My eyes fell on a drawer dresser that was standing against a wall, its drawers sticking out.

I dragged it over to the stairs and hid behind it. Yep, that would work. Now I was armed and had made sure I'd hear whoever would come and I had a place to jump out from.

A small part of me was still wondering what the hell was going on, who these people were and if Harry was okay. But a much bigger part just wanted the get the fuck out of here.

I tried crouching down behind the dresser, but my legs fell asleep, so then I pulled over a chair and placed it behind the dresser. I figured I'd get enough warning to jump up and get ready, I might as well be comfortable while I waited. At least it was the middle of summer so it wasn't too cold in the basement.

Unfortunately, waiting led to thinking. I went over all scenarios I could imagine. In the best case scenario one, Becker tripped on the stairs and broke his neck before he even landed. It wasn't the kindest one, but the easiest one for me. In the worst case scenario I could imagine, they came with gigantic flashlights and swept the marbles off the stairs as they descended them, then they swatted away my shovel and knocked me out with it. I was sort of hoping for the best thing I could imagine and fearing the worst.

But before I had a chance to rethink my strategy, the basement door crashed open as if it had been slammed with a battering ram.

I sent a short prayer heavenwards, took a deep breath and peeked over the dresser just as a large form filled the door frame and almost blocked out all the light from the hallway.

I wanted to stay calm and in control, but I couldn't help being scared, wondering if my plan would work and which one of the scenarios would actually play out.

TBC

A/N: I swear I don't mean to interrupt Steph every time she's trying to have a serious conversation, it just happens...now, if Steph is somehow able to take care of the matter, should Harry forget about the job she owes him??