Finding You Again

Chapter Fourteen

"Who are you to tell me who I am and what I should be? Who are you? I don't need to listen to a list of things I should do. I won't try. No, I won't try."

Mirror by Barlow Girl (Fervent Records) from Another Journal Entry

Joline stood trembling in the doorway of the hotel room, staring at the slightly-older looking face that she had seen in pictures for so many years…

"Daddy?" she said, her voice shaking.

Darren had a hand on her arm, possibly to restrain her from doing anything stupid and getting herself hurt. She saw the gun in her father's hand, pointed at her, and almost recoiled when she remembered Arthur Gray's words. He'd kill his own daughter if the Assassins Superior ordered him to…

But then their eyes locked and she knew that somehow, they had connected. He lowered the gun, his expression confused. "Who…who are you?" he asked, his voice trembling.

Joline closed her eyes and drank in the sound of her father's voice. It was exactly as she had imagined, deep and strong. She opened her eyes and looked at him. His blonde hair was plastered to his head by a thin layer of sweat, his blue eyes bright and troubled, his mouth curved into a slight frown.

Darren stepped forward. "Uncle Joe?" he whispered, his eyes wide.

Joe Hardy looked very confused. "You're…you're my Uncle Joe?" he asked slowly, his eyes now locked on Darren. Before the boy could respond to the absurd statement, Joe ran a hand over his face and muttered, "You both look so familiar."

"Listen, there's no time!" Darren snapped, recovering from his shock and springing into action. "We've got to get out of here—now!"

Eric stared at the strange children in front of him. Their faces were so familiar. His mind told him that he should dispose of them and get on with his job. But his heart overruled.

He was still suspicious, though. "I can't go with you," he said slowly. "I have a job to do."

The girl's eyes widened. "We know about the assassination plan. And so does the government! If you don't get out of here soon, they're going to kill you!" The child's eyes were pleading. A strange feeling hit Eric in the gut. It was then that he realized that he wanted more than anything to go with these children. But he couldn't. He had a job to do. And the implant…

"Get out of here!" he snapped, raising the gun. "Before I change my mind."

The boy whispered something in the girl's ear and tried to pull her back. But not only did the child refuse to back down, but she took a bold step forward. "No," she said, her blue eyes drilling into her own.

"I'll shoot," he threatened. But he knew he wouldn't. He just had to scare them into getting out of here. He didn't want them to get hurt.

"No, you won't," the girl said, as if she had read his mind. "You're not a killer. You're my father. I didn't risk my neck for you to push me away now!"

Eric stared at her. "Your father? I—I have a family?"

There was the sound of a commotion downstairs. "Quick!" the boy exclaimed. "They're here! You've gotta move, or you'll die. The Network shoots first and asks questions later."

Eric grappled with his thoughts and emotions for a moment, then came to a decision. For reasons he could not explain, he wanted to protect these children more than anything. We'll have to take the elevator down to the lobby," he said rushing forward.

"Why the elevator?" the boy panted as they ran. "Won't the stairs be safer?"

The girl slammed her finger into the call button and the doors slid open easily. No one was in it.

"They would expect us to take the stairs," Eric pointed out. "Now, we should be clear when the elevator reaches the bottom," he said. "How we're going to get far away in time, I don't know."

The boy smiled. "We're smarter than you give us credit for. We've got a taxi waiting for us out front."

Arthur Gray was very agitated. Those stupid kids! When he had gotten the call that they had escaped, he was sure that they would try to get home. But now it was obvious that they had gotten to the killer first. Now he had run, probably taking the kids with him as hostages.

Arthur Gray, alias the Gray Man, took out his phone and dialed a number. The phone hadn't even gotten through one ring when someone picked up.

"Arthur Gray, we've been trying to contact you all day!" came the furious voice of Frank Hardy. "Where—are—my—son—and—my—niece?"

The taxi had taken them almost out of the city before Darren told the driver to stop in front of a dingy diner. He produced a large sum of money to pay the man for his services.

"Lucky Dad gave me some extra money just in case, huh?" he said, grinning at Joline. The girl didn't answer. She was staring at her father.

When they had sat down at a booth and ordered three mugs of hot chocolate, Joline looked into her father's eyes. "I have one question," she asked almost timidly. "Have you ever killed anyone for real?"

She held her breath, hoping beyond hope that her father was not a murderer. She let it out when he shook his head. "No. I know how to kill, but I've never wanted to. Not really. But after I get you guys on a plane to your homes, I've got to finish my assignment."

"No!" Joline protested.

"Joe Hardy is no killer," Darren agreed forcefully.

"Joe Hardy may not be—whoever he is—but I have no choice."

"You are Joe Hardy!" Joline exclaimed. The illusion that he had miraculously regained his memory just by looking into her eyes faded instantly.

"And you don't have to do anything," Darren added.

Joe sighed and rubbed his temples. "Look. I don't know anything, except that my name is Eric and I have a job to do."

"You mean, you don't remember anything?" Joline asked, dejected. Joe shook his head.

"Tell me," he said suddenly, his eyes ablaze with a newfound interest.

"Tell you?"

"Everything," Joe said. "Your faces are familiar. You kind of look like the woman I dream about sometimes. And you remind me of the dark haired man," he directed to Darren.

"That's gotta be Mom!" Joline exclaimed. "Your wife, Vanessa!"

"I have a wife?"

"Yes, and me, your daughter, Joline Hardy!"

"But why do you look familiar?" Joe asked Darren. "Are you my son?"

"No, I'm your nephew, Darren. The dark haired man you remember is probably your brother—my dad—Frank Hardy."

A spark of recognition lit up Joe Hardy's eyes. "Frank?"

The name was so, so familiar. Images of the dark haired man flashed through Eric's—no, Joe's—mind. The words I love you, Little Brother, echoed in his mind. And he felt a deep ache inside of him. My brother.

He still couldn't remember everything. But he sort of remembered Frank.

"What happened to me?"

Darren and Joline launched into the story of what had happened to him since his kidnapping. Then they said something that sparked his memory.

"What was that name?"

"Iola," Joline responded. "Mom said that she was your first love but she was killed by—"

Suddenly Joe went rigid. His mind was filled with a horrific explosion. Images began to flicker through his mind. He went limp, then raised his haunted eyes. Hearing that name from his past had awakened something inside of him.

"I remember."

~Emachinescat ^..^