Frank froze where he was in the centre of a long and ominous hallway. He was on his way back to the command centre, the knife to the power grid putting an end to his one mission in the field. As he had jogged steadily, retracing his earlier footsteps to get out of the building in a timely manner, he had been waging a constant, streaming internal battle with himself.

Every bone in his body screamed for him to get up to the third floor and be reunited with his baby brother. But he knew that those actions could throw a six foot one spanner in the works and would irreparably burn any bridges he had forged with the Chief. Ezra would never trust the Hardys again.

Getting closer to the exit, the sounds of sudden gunfire echoing through the mostly silent building had stopped him in his tracks. It seemed to go on forever and then suddenly, it stopped. Frank's heart hammered as he waited, every nerve on alert as he strained his hearing for any indication of what was going on.

After a lengthy pause, more gunfire burst through the halls, the sound ricochetting down the stairways turning the place into a war zone. This second bout of shooting could mean only one thing. Something had gone terribly wrong with the scouting party.

His mind made up for him, Frank spun on his heel and ran to the nearest door leading to a stairwell, ripping off the headset and allowing it to hang at his neck as the voice of the Chief exploded into his ears ordering him to return to command immediately.

Don't worry Joe I'm coming to get you.

Ezra's mouth hung open as he watched the unfolding tragedy before him. A little while after his last communication with his team on the inside, Lance had finished wildly gesturing to his troops. After a short powwow he'd sent one of his men out into the corridor, apparently to check if the coast was clear. Moments after the man had left the room, lights that could only come from a weapon being offloaded, suddenly pulsed across the screen.

The hostages inside the room all jumped before attempting to move away from the doors and the now obvious gun fight which was seriously under way. The Marchettis reacted immediately, ducking down low and herding them back to the centre all the while attempting to catch a glimpse of what was happening in the hallway.

Finally after what seemed like the work of moments, the lights stopped flashing and everyone froze. It was Lance who broke the lull, striding to the door and stiff arming it open. He was out of shot for a couple of seconds before returning carrying the body of one of his men over his shoulder. From the way the man's head was lolling it was clear to everyone in the command centre that he was dead. He threw him to the ground staring at the limp body, chest heaving before turning suddenly, obviously hearing something from the corridor.

"Chief!" A broken voice erupted from the radio standing on the ledge of the van.

"Report," the Chief replied after launching himself at the sound.

"Chief, they got them. They're dead, they're all dead..." came the voice full of obvious emotion.

"Ceasefire, repeat, ceasefire. Get yourself out of there son and get back to base immediately," Ezra replied loudly. Knowing that giving a direct order would snap the man on the other end of the radio into action.

"Chief I..." Whatever he was about to say was cut off with the sound of exploding gunfire accompanied by an animalistic screaming making Ezra jump out of his skin.

He turned to the screen with its thirty second delay in time to see Lance stalking through the room out into the corridor with his gun raised before lights once more flashed across the monitor.

"Noo!" he roared into the radio feeling utterly powerless at the situation. "Son? Officer are you there? Report damn you!"

There was a moment of silence and then the unmistakable sound of gurgling filled the van before coming to a painful and silent stop.

Joe was tearing his hair out. He had never felt so utterly powerless to help in a situation in his entire life. He'd made his way through the vent shafts back to the grate which afforded him a full view of the room, in time to see the Marchettis offload a truckload of bullets into what could only have been the police.

He'd heard Lance raging over the last half an hour after he found the now conscious but still bleeding form of Nick in the room where Joe had left him. Nick had managed to splutter out a vague description of his attacker and Abbie had froze in obvious recognition when she'd put two and two together.

"Lance I know him," she'd said before proceeding to explain exactly who Joe was. "I figured he got out when all this kicked off."

As much as Joe had felt betrayed by Abbie after realising she was eye deep in the mess before him, he'd still winced in sympathy at the ringing slap Lance had delivered upon what Joe had come to realise was his little sister.

Lance had lost it completely for a moment screaming blue murder at all of his troops before demanding that they make another search of the surrounding rooms, loudly explaining the ways he was going to tear Joe limb from limb the entire time.

He'd culminated in sending the last of his men, cousin Carlos, out into the hallways to see if they were still clear. It was evident he felt they were running out of time and needed to figure out a way of getting out of the current situation and fast.

Joe had jumped with the rest of them when the guns suddenly started firing. Now he saw Lance returning from his own gun battle, his scarred face streaked with dirt from the smoke but a sliver of sadness in his eyes alongside the smoulder of rage. He looked down at the ruined body of Carlos for a moment before a manic sneer ripped across his features.

"Find that Hardy kid."

Joe's heart sank for a moment, he would be foolish not to be intimidated by such obvious lunacy, but his head won out quelling the emotion as he quietly tried to figure a way out. He'd crawled for eternity through the sprawling tunnels but it seemed his luck was out as far as them leading anywhere other than inside of the department he found himself stuck in. Figuring he would just have to hold his horses and stay put, he pulled his phone out of his pocket to check the battery. Perhaps when the search died down he would be able to contact Frank and see what the heck was going on and if he could help from inside.

His attention was suddenly drawn back to the room, however, by Lance screaming his name.

"Hardy!" he hollered, spittle flying from his mouth. "We're done playing now. Your pigs killed Carlos and you're going to pay for it."

My pigs? Joe thought. Lance had clearly lost it if he thought the police had been there at his word. But his crazy mind clearly needed someone to blame for the death of his cousin.

"I'm going to give you to the count of three to get your yellow ass out here and then I'm going to start filling people with lead on your behalf," he said to the air. Even his fellow comrades were starting to shoot looks towards one another, although Nick was eyeing him up adoringly from the corner of the room he was slumped in. He clearly had a vendetta against the younger Hardy too.

Joe's heart hammered in his chest as he viewed the situation from his vantage point. Lance couldn't be serious right? His pulse picked up as Lance shot forward, quick as a viper, grasping the plucky nurse who'd tended to Dante earlier in the afternoon and picking her up, struggling, by the neck.

"One...twooo...don't make me count to three Hardy. You want this pretty face in your nightmares for the rest of your life?"

Joe was completely torn. Of course he didn't want the nurse to be injured, or even killed, in his stead. But then again Lance could be completely bluffing and giving himself away would be playing right into his hand.

His moment of indecision gave Lance enough time to press the still smoking barrel of the gun to the nurses face. She shrieked as the hot metal touched her skin. There was a sudden movement as the form of Doctor Edwards leapt to his feet at the sound.

"Enough!" he said, his arms raised palm forward in an effort to get Lance to calm down. Whatever he was planning on saying next was lost forever as the psycho leader turned his gun without blinking and shot the doctor directly into the stomach. Doctor Edwards fell to the ground clutching at the wound, the blood already beginning to blossom in stark contrast against his white lab coat and a look of sheer shock on his face.

"Alright!" Joe had spoken without even knowing he was going to. The sound echoing along the shaft and putting an end to the screaming which had again begun at the sight of the blood.

Everyone's attention was suddenly fixated upon the vent leading through the room. It had gotten silent as a cemetary in there. Joe pulled his knees up to his chest before pouncing them forward sending the grating rocketing to the floor. He slid out and dropped the ten or so feet to the ground, bending his knees easily to absorb the impact.

Shock momentarily crossed Lance's face as he took in the dishevelled young man before him. Joe's dirty face was streaked through with lines where sweat had ran freely down his skin. His clothes were slightly torn in places where they had caught on sharp edges of vents.

Lance paused for a moment before throwing the nurse to the ground, tears silently running down her face as she clutched at her burnt skin. The unnatural stillness unnerved Joe but he refused to let how intimidated he felt staring into the eyes of the madman show. Suddenly Lance erupted in movement, crossing the space between them easily before bringing his gun grip high into the air and whipping it across the young Hardy's face. Pain exploded behind his eyes as the force of the blow sent his body spinning to the floor, darkness rushing up to meet him.

Oh Joseph...What are we going to do with you?

All comments and critiques welcome as usual.