CHAPTER 30

Vanessa watched as her friends dove over tables, saw her brother go down, and her new Dad dash to the rescue. Then Frank got nailed in the shoulder. 'Enough!' She stopped viewing the CCTV, and peered at Mark's attempts at getting through to her instead.

"Vanessa, come back." Mark typed for the umpteenth time, but a dull stare met his enquiry. Vanessa found herself unable to respond. "Mrs Holliday, if you're reading this, kick Vanessa up the arse!"

Mrs Holliday gave Vanessa a good poke, then patted firmly on the desktop. "Vanessa, snap out of it. They need your help." She gave her shoulder a firm shake. "Wake up!"

"How am I supposed to help?"

"Talk to your friend. Mark may have insight."

"Vanessa, please come back!" Mark pleaded again.

She returned her fingers to her keyboard. "Hi."

"How are you?"

"Don't know what to do."

"Yes you do."

"Mark. I got nothing."

"You do, you don't realise it, but you do. Stop thinking like you."

"What do you mean?"

"What would Frank do? You know Frank…get into his head. He's able to compartmentalize isn't he? From what I remember."

"You've lost me."

"He's able to set aside outside influences and feelings so he can concentrate on one issue at a time, yes? Unless he's changed."

"You mean he's single-minded?"

"I'm such a bellend, why didn't I just say that? Yes, he's single-minded, and a finisher."

"Bellend?"

"I'm not explaining that to a lady. Keep on subject."

"Yes. Frank's logical too, and practical. He often says it's 'time to get practical'."

"See? You know him. So what would Frank do? Come on, you know this!"

"Protect everyone, get them to safety."

"It's something anyone with half a conscience would do. Be specific. How would Frank go about it?"

Vanessa sat back and considered for a few seconds, then returned to keying. "He would stick with the plan. He's so single-minded, with no other choice, he would see it through. Mr H might take over now though."

"Mr H?"

"Mr Hardy. Fenton."

"Ok. We'll see if it happens on the CCTV footage. Let us assume for now Frank's still the leader. Remind me…what's his plan?"

"To take care of the Red-Headed Man."

"Not going to happen. Not seen hide-nor-hair of the geezer. What else?"

"Kill Pandora."

"Do-able, and—" Vanessa waited for Mark to continue, but instead he typed. "Look at the CCTV."

Vanessa looked in time to see Frank aim a thumb to the camera - unsteady, but an obvious attempt to settle their minds. From one of the other views, she saw Joe and Fenton shouting across the room at each other. She smiled, and Mrs Holliday rubbed her shoulders. She looked back at her PC screen to see Mark had continued.

"Will he still want to destroy Pandora now do you think?"

Vanessa pursed her lips. "Yes, but I'm not sure he'd want to do it right now."

"We can't be sure of anything. We can only make an educated guess. Is Frank a creature of habit?"

Vanessa nodded. "If it's something that works." She paused thoughtfully, then decided to explain better. "When the Red-Headed Man took Nancy, Frank wanted to exchange himself for her. It's what he did last time and it worked. Also, Mrs Holliday hid him and Nancy here at The Oaklands, so he did it again with us. Makes sense what he'll want to do is kill Pandora."

"Why would he do that? Where's the logic? Why not have them fight their way out?"

"Because he thought the last time, with Pandora gone, there'd be no reason for anyone to come back and haunt us. They proved him right. As soon as Nancy hit the destruct command, the enemy stopped and went away."

"You've convinced me. Let's assume it's what he'll do."

"Agreed."

"Look at the CCTV, at their body language. I'd put money on it Joe and Mr H are deferring to Frank. Would you agree?"

Vanessa watched, then typed, "You're right, Frank's talking, they're nodding. You're good at this, Mark."

"Cheers." he said. "If Frank passes out, will they continue with the plan?"

"Depends on the circumstances, but if nothing changes they'll stick with it. They trust his judgement."

"What do they need? How can we help them?" Mark asked next. "My thought's to speed up the process. I know a way, but what else?"

"They need help, but it would be going directly against Frank wishes. He doesn't want anyone else involved, didn't want to put them in danger. He's a control freak."

"I think it's beyond that stage."

"I know where I can get help, but I can't do it from here. You can though."

"I'm here to serve, my Queen."

-o0o-

"FRANK?" Nancy shouted from under the table. "FRANK?"

"He's out for the count," Fenton predicted. "I wouldn't be back in control otherwise."

She rubbed his arm. "I'm sure he'll come out the other side alive. At least, I hope so." Her face dropped at the look on Fenton's face. "Sorry, sorry! My stupid…bluntness."

"He's tough," Fenton agreed as he slipped his arm around her and smiled. "He'll be fine." Her head turned away, and his smile slipped. He needed to give an outward appearance of self-assurance, but inside he didn't feel so mighty. He was angry Frank had taken a bullet for him. He also didn't like the sounds his son had made at the end, the words he'd used. It scared him.

'A damn replay of the last time, only with my boys swapping roles. Frank took the bullet this time. If history stands true, it's only a matter of time before Joe gets the crap kicked out of him. Talking of Joseph—'..."Son, you okay?" Fenton could understand Con being quiet; he was busy with James, but— "Joe?"

A muffled sound came from Joe's hiding place. "Yeah."

"What you doing?"

"Give me a sec." Joe's voice lacked emotion at first, but then he gave a defeated whimper. "He should have let me go up there…I should have gone up no matter what he said."

"Frank didn't want you to suffer the same fate, you must see that!"

"Should have gone up there."

"What Frank said…it didn't indicate anything other than him passing out. You know that, yes?"

"He's my best mate, not just my brother."

"I know, Son."

Joe's hand appeared from the side the table where he hid, palm outwards. "Let me have a couple of minutes, Dad."

"Take as long as you need." Fenton twisted so he faced Nancy better. They were jammed side-by-side under the metal table he'd pulled them into after he took her over the desks. She had just crawled to grab James' gun, but it resulted in her being fired at. He'd pulled her back under quickly. She hadn't been hit.

He watched as she dropped the magazine part way out of the gun's grip to check the bullets. Satisfied, she replaced it, and then looked to see a shell nestled in the chamber. She nodded, put the safety on and slipped the weapon into the hip pocket of her cargo pants. "Do you know how to use a Glock?"

"Of course I do. I can disassemble and clean it too. You're not the only trained people here."

"No offence meant, it's my age, I'm impressed."

"Who chose Glocks?"

"Frank."

"Excellent weapon choice."

"Friends," Con said, "I can't do anything else for James. I've made him as comfortable, and safe as I can. I'm coming over. Can you create a diversion?"

"Happy to." Joe said, having decided to mentally re-join them.

Fenton peered around the outside of the desk. Joe had moved enough so Fenton could see him on his knees. Drawers opened and closed as Joe mooched through one of the pedestals. Eventually, Joe fished an object out. "You ready, Con?"

"Go for it."

Joe hard-lobbed the mystery item at the doors. Bullets sprayed in the direction of where the projectile landed.

Con burst into view, came down heavily off the top of one of the tables and crashed landed with a grunt. He rolled until his back rested against the desks, at the midway point between Joe and Fenton. He had James' Kevlar vest gripped in his fist. He looked about, spotted Fenton and Nancy and lugged the vest. "Put this on, Drew." He no longer had his jacket on, must have donated it to his son, using it as a blanket or something.

"How's James?" Nancy retrieved the vest and awkwardly pulled it up her arms and over her back. Fenton helped but found it a challenge in the tight space.

"Putting a brave face on. I don't think he got hit anywhere other than the leg. I slowed the bleed, but it's a mess."

Nancy relinquished control of the vest to Fenton and looked at Con's hands. They were stained with blood, along with his shirt's cuffs. "Is it bad?"

Con stretched out and unfastened a second utility belt from about his middle and slid it free. "He needs a hospital, not a cold floor…here." He skimmed the belt across the tiles to her.

Nancy caught it, pulled it around her middle and clipped it in place. "James is our best marksman. We could do with his expertise right now." The belt hung low on her hips, her waist way smaller than Con's.

"It's adjustable," Con said. "Is James really so good?"

"You betcha," Joe agreed. "Wasn't a lucky shot when he knocked the gun from the guy's fingers."

"Frank and I have been target shooting with him. He's excellent. Top of his class." Nancy readjusted the belt, made it snug.

"I didn't know."

Fenton finally got the last strap to work on Nancy's vest and tightened it down. "He doesn't brag, does he?"

Con agreed. "No he doesn't,"

"Honey, you ready to find the PC?" Fenton asked.

"Hate to disappoint, Sugarlips, but that's Nancy's job," Con said.

Joe laughed, a good sound, made his dad grin.

Fenton turned to Nancy. "What do you reckon, Nan?"

"Yes. You do have sugarlips," Nancy said. Fenton laughed properly and Nancy smiled back. "Let's get this done. The sooner we do, the sooner we can get help for Frank and James."

The three men readied themselves with their weapons and aimed them in the general direction of the doors as Nancy edged out from under the table.

Fenton watched in his peripheral vision as she reached tentatively up to the computer on the desk above them. Sighing, she raised herself slightly and her chin swung one way and then the other. She dropped, and pulled Fenton into a confab. "The screen and PC are shot to pieces. In fact, every PC's in the same state along this row," she reported, indicating how much gun fire had rained down on them. "I need to go to the next line, but it'll make me visible." She bit her lip, "I don't know if I can do this."

"Yeah you can," Joe said and stood up to face the window.

"JOE!" Fenton shouted, horrified. "NO!"

Joe dropped as quickly as he'd risen. He pressed his back along the side of the desk, and pulled his legs in tight. Slugs proceeded to pepper about him.

Nancy moved quickly. Fenton attempted to stop her, but she shrugged him off, and slithered quickly across to the other bank of desks. "Joe Hardy, you're refreshingly foolish," he heard her call out as she crawled around to the other side. She went into the leg space beneath the nearest table. He then saw her hand reach up and jiggle the mouse, but she didn't dally, and the hand dropped away. Clearly not the right PC.

The shooting ceased. Joe stole a look at Fenton and grinned.

In contrast, Fenton wasn't happy. "IDIOT BOY! Don't do that again, do you HEAR me?"

"We didn't waste ammunition."

"I'd rather waste ammo than waste YOU! Jesus Christ, Son!" Fenton felt like crying. He swallowed it down.

"Listen to what your father's telling you, Joe. Two with gunshot wounds is enough. Stop being a hero." Con exchanged a look with Fenton. "I hope the program isn't on a computer destroyed already."

Nancy said, "It won't be one of those. If the PC got hit, Pandora wouldn't be on the screen. You can betcha bottom dollar they've been ordered not to shoot the console."

"Careful, Nancy," Fenton warned as he sensed her move again. She pulled herself along to the next desk and tried the mouse.

Con looked up at the big screen, at Pandora still looking down at them. "No luck."

Fenton caught sight of Nancy between that desk and the next, but she froze as the lights flickered. Fenton looked up as they blinked out altogether followed quickly by the big screen, plunging them into total blackness.

Nancy's breaths pick up pace. "I don't like this."

Fenton made a snap decision. "Con, go to Joe." He scuttled forward and made his way to Nancy, sensing Con go into motion too. Once next to her, he pulled her under the nearest desk. "You all right sweetheart?"

She trembled. "Scared. The dark makes it worse." She grasped onto him, was near curled up on top of him, but then the lights began to flicker and came up to full strength.

They looked out from under the desk and up toward the screen expecting to see Pandora there with her insufferable facial expression. Instead, they were looking at Vanessa, in the panic room. She had a pen behind her ear and used her PC's webcam. Mrs Holliday stood in the background.

"How's Van doing that?" Con asked.

"She's a genius," Fenton said.

"Can I see Mrs Holliday?" Nancy asked.

"Yes. We've been holed up at the Oaklands."

Vanessa spoke, but no sound happened. Her nose wrinkled in disappointment. Instead, she leaned forward to pick up a piece of paper with writing on. She offered out to the camera. 'Frank's breathing,' it said.

Joe made a hard choking noise and Con rubbed his shoulder.

"Thank goodness!" Nancy said. "Oh thank goodness!...Did the Red-Headed Man do that to Van's neck?"

"Yes."

Joe waved and Vanessa's eyes flicked up for a moment, she looked back, smiled grimly, and raised her own hand. "She can see us."

She held up another note - 'Nancy.'

"Nan, I think she's trying to tell you something," Joe said.

Nancy shuffled carefully out from under the desk to make herself visible.

Vanessa held up another piece of paper, but then she focused properly, and her hand rushed to her mouth in shock. She pointed to the side of her own face to indicate she could see Nancy's bruises. She grimaced, shook her head and reached to hold up another piece of paper - 'Third PC, left.'

Nancy pointed to a particular desk. Vanessa nodded her head vigorously. Nancy blew a kiss. Vanessa did the same and swiped an empathic, sisterly tear away. "It's lucky she told me. I went the wrong way," Nancy told Fenton.

Vanessa held up another note, 'Help's coming.'

"Where from?" Joe wondered.

She swapped again, 'How's Jimmy?'

Con made a rocking motion with his hands, made gun fingers and directed them to his leg.

She nodded. She grimaced. She exchanged the note for another - 'I love you, Joe.' She drew her heart on her chest with her finger.

Joe did the same. She smiled.

She held a further sheet of paper – 'I love you ALL!' It had an air of finality about it, probably the last pre-written note she would show them. She laid it down and threw a two-handed kiss.

Mrs Holliday moved and walked forward, growing bigger as she approached. Her hand gripped Vanessa's shoulder and drew her attention up. Her face opened in dismay, and she slid the pen from behind her ear. They could see from the movement of her shoulders she was scribbling, but before she finished she glanced to the side in consternation, and the lights and screen blacked out. In a matter of moments, the illuminations were back up as well as Pandora.

"I didn't like the look on her face," Joe said. "I wonder what she tried to tell us."

"Maybe she'll do the same trick and we'll find out," Fenton said. "Nancy, let's finish this."

She gripped his hand. "I predict, as soon as I move toward the PC, they'll try and stop me. This will be hairy."

"I'm gonna get up," Joe said and moved. "Make myself a target, give Nan a chance."

"You are NOT!" Fenton barked. "DROP! That's an order, Young Man!" His voice sounded strangely pitched, even to him. He threw his head back in temper and cracked his skull against the underside of the desk.

Nancy put her arms around his middle and snuggled in.

Con reached for Joe's sleeve and yanked him down. "No you don't, Buddy. Stop giving your dad a coronary. Let's talk about this." He let go, turned to the other two and raised his palms. "Fen, hold it together until we get out of here and get the kids to safety, so we can—"

"We're not kids!" Joe and Nancy chorused.

Con closed his eyes for a second. "LOOK! Allow me this one indiscretion, huh? I'm trying, but I can't change overnight." He ran a hand over his forehead. "To us oldies, you're our children, no matter how old you get!" He paused to let his words sink in. "We need to be calm. So everyone take a breath. Stop panicking, and stop making rash decisions." They all did as told and Con continued. "Why don't we concentrate our fire power at the doors. Hopefully, they'll be too busy blasting back to see Nancy? Put them on the defensive for a change and—"

"I prefer your scenario," Fenton muttered.

"Wait, Fen...I haven't finished. I think Joe made a good but clumsy suggestion. We can concentrate all the fire power we like, but static firing will only result in the Posse knowing we're creating another diversion. It'll reroute their attention straight to Drew. If we make ourselves targets, it'll pull them away from her and make us a sport for them. They don't really want to kill Nancy, or Frank come to that, but us? We're expendable. Let's use it and surprise the heck out of them."

Joe spoke up, "I'm willing to put my life on it they don't want to kill us outright, or their leverage will be gone. They'll want to incapacitate, not kill. I'd take a slug again in order for Nancy to end this."

Fenton glared out, not liking the plan. "I promised Carson I'd look after Nancy."

"And this is the way to do it. C'mon Flash! What's the worst that can happen? We've got bullet proof vests on. Our vital organs are mostly protected."

"Because it worked for Frank and James didn't it?

"They weren't aiming at Frank; they thought they'd shot you. And since Frank laughed at them, no bullets have hit the stairwell."

Fenton opened his mouth, but Joe jumped in. "There's probably even less chance of them wanting to hurt Nancy now they made the mistake of nailing Frank to the floor. For all they know, they've killed him and Nancy's their last hope. He said to them he wouldn't be in a state to help them soon. Who knows what message they took from that? I know what I took from it."

Con nodded. "True. And remember, they could have shot James in the head but didn't."

"Didn't stop them shooting me in the head," Fenton complained.

"A lucky shot on their part."

"Did they?" Nancy asked.

Fenton dropped his face so she could see the stitches holding his scalp together.

"So I see."

Fenton raised his face and found himself eye-to-eye with her. She had a look on her face his sister, Gertrude, sometimes used on him.

Nancy considered him and said, "I only need a few seconds to get from here, to there. As soon as I'm there, I'll yell for you to get down. If I try without the biggest distraction yet, all guns are gonna be aimed at little ol' me and I don't cherish the thought, and neither would my Dad. I agree with Con and Joe, I can't see how else we can do it. I don't particularly want to put you guys in any kind of danger, but it's all we've got." She pushed James' gun into his hand and began to restock Fenton's bullet belt with the cartridges she'd been gifted. "They're wise to the distraction technique we've used so far, we need to do something different, something shocking." She finished loading up the belt. "You use these; my concentration will be elsewhere, my hands free."

Fenton looked down at the gun, and up at Nancy. She smiled, kissed him on the cheek and cupped his face. "Yes?"

"Dad?" Joe prompted.

"Oh boy…how I hate it when you're right!" Fenton hugged Nancy and dropped the bullet case out of his original gun. "It's unnatural." He replaced the magazine with a fresh one, and jacked a bullet into the chamber. "Ammo up boys, make sure your weapons are packed."

"We should get Frank's gun and belt," Joe muttered.

"And leave him defenceless?"

"It's not as if he's in a state to use them. FRANK! YO FRANK! DUDE?" They paused, but Frank didn't respond. "Not gonna happen."

"Here, have these," Nancy said, grim faced, and slid the remaining gun cases over.

There followed the mechanical noise of each gun being made ready, then stillness as they zoned their minds. Con and Joe's eyes came to rest fully on Fenton. He held his hand up and counted down from three to one. As soon as he lowered the third finger, they sprung from their hiding places, and dashed randomly across the bullpen, pooling their death metal directly at the doors.