Chapter 28

Joe had arrived at the school just after Fenton, Nancy and Con, but had parked at the rear of the building, concealing Vanessa's car behind a low wall. Without bothering to remove the ignition key, he quicky exited the vehicle while pulling the backpack carefully after him. He moved to a particular slide window and started pounding on it until it started to give a little and then shouldered it the rest of the way open.

Joe knew this school like the back of his hand, so it was no surprise that Frank had chosen it as a place to hide something so valuable – it was exactly what he would have done himself. The building was vast, it's layout complicated, and most of the time was full of students either studying or doing out-of-hours activities. It would have been a difficult place to trespass onto and search without someone noticing – that's if you didn't know the place like he and his brother did. Joe knew that this particular window catch was loose, and in his younger days, had often used it as a short-cut when he was late getting to classes.

He leaned into the interior and carefully set the bag down on the floor and then boosted himself over the edge and dropped down into the boy's bathroom. He noted that the smell was no fresher than when he'd been a student and tried holding his breath for as long as possible. His side was starting to sting a little, but he compartmentalised the sensation into a virtual box in his mind, picked up the bag, and moved to the door.

Opening up, he listened for a few seconds, but upon hearing nothing but silence, he slipped out and ran quickly but quietly along the confusing maze of corridors until he was at a turning that would lead to the Principal's room. That was when the commotion started that forced him to have to stop and listen.

"This way – up to the roof!" he heard someone shout.

Then came the sound of footsteps running. And unmistakably Con bellowing: "Freeze!"

"Stay back!" he then heard, "Or I take his head off – and if you doubt me, just try it! Make any move in the next five minutes and he's dead." That sounded to Joe to be the same man who'd used the stun baton on him. His upper lip curled back with revulsion and his heart skipped a beat.

Then Joe heard his brother whimper: "Dad?" in a pathetic, beaten voice.

He didn't wait to hear anything further, the sound of Frank's tone was enough to galvanise him into renewed action and so he turned to begin the return journey. About half way back, he was skidding to a halt at the thunderous sound of a gun exploding and then heard his father scream "NO!"

"Frank!" Joe muttered and looked back. "Gotta see!" he decided and ran full pelt towards the Principal's office. He reached the corner and took a quick peek and saw his father leaning over Con. And then he saw Nancy standing stock still and near enough looking straight at him so he ducked back out of site again. From what he did manage to see, Con was on the ground, but he was moving. Then Joe heard Con say something about a 'bullet proof vest' and decided that perhaps he wasn't as hurt as he'd feared.

Relief instantly washed over him that it wasn't his brother, but then that feeling was replaced with one of shame that he should feel so euphoric that it was Con who'd taken a bullet and not Frank. He made the decision to shake that sentiment loose and once again returned as fast as possible to the bathroom.

Dropping to his feet from the window, Joe this time headed towards where he knew there was a drainpipe that had been used hundreds of times as a ladder to reach the roof. He knew of pupils who had taken advantage of this in order to skip classes – not Frank or Joe though, they'd always been good about attending their lessons. The threat had always been hung over them that if they cut school, they would be banned from their sleuthing activities, so that particular temptation had always been a no brainer.

It now wasn't a question of him 'maybe' having to activate the back-up plan Frank had put in place by email, it was all too clearly happening and he was going to have to ride the train, no matter how out of control things got and even if it came off the rails! Judging by the sound that he'd heard coming out of Frank's mouth only minutes earlier, he was in no position to help himself. Joe just hadn't bargained on having to get up onto the roof!

He reached the foot of the pipe and pushed his arms through the backpack and then strapped it around his middle. He went to the conduit, put his hands against it and took a couple of deep breaths – he knew this was going to hurt a lot so he was preparing himself mentally for the upcoming ordeal breathing in through his nose, out through his mouth and counting backwards from ten to one. Eventually, his mind centred and he began his climb, his hands going one over the other up the pipe and his toes finding footholds in the brickwork. About three quarters of the way up, he just had to stop and rest, his stitches were really starting to pull and he knew now that he must be bleeding. He only allowed himself a few seconds and then literally forced himself up the rest of the way – the last thing he wanted to do was pass out and fall.

Now at the top, his willpower alone assisted in hauling him up and over the ledge. He rolled over the top and flopped down onto his side next to an air conditioning vent. He could do no more than lie there, gasping, feeling light-headed and experiencing a throbbing pain raging under the bandages.

He could hear talking on the other side of the building and was fairly certain that it was the voices of the men who had hold of his brother. He rolled over onto his front and managed to get up onto his hands and knees.

The snow was deep up here, crunchy and fresh. No feet had been walking about to crush it all down in all the days it had been snowing. Joe really wanted to get up and investigate the voices, but he was being hit with waves of nausea and was having a hard time not retching. He tasted bile, but put the back of his hand to his mouth and stubbornly swallowed it down.

Eventually, he sat back, unsnapped the backpack fastening and unzipped his jacket. After a couple of seconds, he pulled up his pullover and shirt, scooped up a handful of snow and applied it to his wound, enjoying the refreshing cold and letting it anaesthetise the pain. He then did the same to his face. Eventually, he felt like he would be able to move again without vomiting, so he zipped himself back up and climbed testily to his feet. His stomach behaved itself.

He could make out the men at the other end of the roof. Two were patrolling the perimeter and another was standing talking into what looked like a two-way radio. There was an unidentifiable heap on the ground at the man's feet that Joe assumed must be Frank and a final man was at the door, messing with the handle.

Joe stepped sideways until the tool shed hid him from view and then ran forward silently on the balls of his feet until he was able to crouch down behind it – this was the part of the plan that he was dreading the most and actually physically crossed his fingers before he peered around the corner.

He'd been correct in his assumption that it was his brother lying on the ground in the snow. Frank looked very different to the last time he'd seen him outside his hospital room window and given his appearance, Joe assumed that his brother wasn't conscious as he was lying so still, but was relieved and surprised when Frank suddenly moved, bringing his arms in to hug them around his body. Joe took the chance of waving quickly, hoping that his brother would spy the movement. Then Frank made his own very slight movement of raising the fingers on both hands in response as if to say: "I see you."

The man standing over him stopped talking into the two-way radio and looked up into the distance. Joe strained to try and see what he was looking at – he heard it before he saw it: a helicopter was coming!

And then Joe could see it too in the distance, flying at speed towards them and finally hovering above and preparing to land on the roof itself, sending snow in all directions and actually clearing the ground of it.

"This is it!" Joe thought, squinting against the cold blast that was being created by the rotors. "If it's going to happen, it'll be now!" He quickly shrugged the bag off his back and held it in his hands, ready to move.

He watched as the man standing over Frank also started to move. As the helicopter came in to land, he bent down in front of his brother rolled him over onto his back and pushed the gun up under his chin.

"No!" Joe thought, that was most definitely not part of the plan! He started to raise himself to do something, anything! But then something happened that stopped him - Frank had grabbed onto the man's wrist and the man was going down into a crouch. A short conversation that Joe couldn't hear above the rotor blades ensued between Frank and his kidnapper, Frank pointing aggressively into the man's face.

"What the hell is Frank doing?" Joe wondered in confusion. "This is no time to antagonise the guy!"

Shortly, the man leaned back and bellowed with laughter and then indicated to one of his men and the familiar silver case was bought forward. The man unbuttoned Frank's jacket and pulled it open – Frank not offering up any resistance.

And then Joe understood completely what his brother had been doing.

The lid of the case was unlatched and the two cattle prods were handed out as the man raised himself. He took them, stepped back away, and immediately pressed the two sticks in towards Frank's chest, blue electrical currents zapping forth. Frank's back arched up and he began jerking and shaking uncontrollably, his heart accepting and swallowing up the dancing lights.

Joe couldn't help it; he yelled his brother's name out in horror, only too aware of the unbelievable suffering and agony that his brother was allowing himself to be put under – Frank was made of much sterner stuff than he'd ever given him credit for! Luckily he wasn't heard by the men, who were obviously too intent on what they were doing and their escape than to take any notice of one single shout.

And then the prods were retracted and Frank lay still, the only movements being his fists uncurling and a twitch of the foot. The man bent down and checked for a neck pulse, and then, finally satisfied, he turned and threw the batons into the case, shut it, and went to board the helicopter.

Just a couple of minutes earlier and Frank was freezing on that roof. He knew that if something didn't happen soon, he would likely die of exposure before anything else. He pulled his arms around his body in an ineffective effort to retain some heat and tried not to think about Con who he'd just watched being literally blown away.

He was aware that the man who'd dragged and half carried him up onto the roof was still standing above him, making sure that he wouldn't escape – not that it was necessary. Frank knew he wasn't going anywhere, he was too fatigued and injured, any sense of resistance now well and truly beaten out of him, both physically and mentally.

However, although the world was now a foggy one at best, Frank was convinced he'd just spotted a slight movement out by the tool shed and allowed himself a little hope that it was his kid brother. Taking a chance, he raised his fingers in response. It was such an unnatural movement to make with his hands that he knew Joe would pick up on his silent message – if it WAS Joe he'd seen, of course, and not a figment of his own imagination.

The man above him was talking into a two-way radio, trying to summon help. It seemed he was calling for the chopper and directing the pilot in towards them. Presently, and as expected, Frank heard it in the distance approaching. Soon, the helicopter was so close that it was near deafening and snow was flying in all directions, hitting him in the face like thousands of pin pricks as it first hovered and then descended to land.

The man who'd been looming over him put one leg either side of Frank and turned him over.

"Time's up for you, Hardy, you're no longer useful to us," he shouted, pressing the cold gun up under Frank's jaw. "A great shame and a waste – you'd have made a brilliant agent for us."

Frank caught his gun arm and indicated for the man to move closer so he could speak to him, he took a couple of deep breaths and gritted his teeth to stop them from chattering: "I doubt it, man, I've got half a conscience." Frank said in response and then frowned angrily. "I ultimately kept to my half of the bargain didn't I, huh?"

The man paused, and then nodded.

Frank pointed into the man's face. "You gave me your word as a man that you wouldn't torment Nancy or my family any longer, and now you're breaking that promise."

The man shook his head. "On the contrary, I intend to keep my promise, we won't be going after them, and that hero-cop wasn't one of your friends, was he?"

"Yeah he was, actually, pal! And now you're about to leave my family to scrape my body up off this roof. Care to freakin' explain how that's not designed to hurt them?"

The man stopped and raised himself in thought. "I'm sorry about your friend, but it was him or me. As for your family – what do you suggest?" he shouted. "You know I can't let you live."

Frank pulled him down to his face again. "Use the stun guns to do the job. My brother said you have two?" The man nodded. "Well use them both at the same time then. Look at me, man, I'm wet through and half-way to dead already, so you'll easily stop my heart and my family can then give me a decent burial – plus, you'll always have the satisfaction of knowing you left a beautiful corpse."

The man threw his head back and laughed loudly. "You're a funny and complicated man, Mr Hardy. As you wish."

The helicopter had now landed fully on the roof, the back door being opened as the others were all preparing to board.

The man sitting astride Frank indicated for one of them to bring the silver case over to him. He unbuttoned Frank's jacket and pulled it wide open to expose his torso and then stood up. The case was unlatched and the two cattle prods were removed and passed across.

For some seconds, Frank and the helicopter pilot had been regarding one another, the pilot's face bearing a expression of sympathy and regret, but Frank knew that no help was going to be coming from that quarter so turned his attention back to the man who was about to take his life, wanting to look him straight in the eye when he did it. The man stepped away and aimed the prongs towards the middle of his victim's chest and snapped down on the buttons.

Instantaneously, the pain in Frank's head and his knee and the cold and Con didn't matter any longer. A hand had pounded an opening through his sternum and was gripping his heart crushing it between its clawed fingers, squeezing the life force out of it before ripping it free of his chest. Frank's mind imploded – his last awareness being that he thought he'd heard Joe's voice, but immediately that he heard him, there was just nothingness as a counter-balance and he wasn't conscious of anything anymore.