I've had a lot of really heart-warming reviews lately. Thank you so much, you've all been so kind. I'm glad I'm entertaining you. We are down to our three or four chapters now. I really hope I've tied off all those loose ends because they're flapping around all over the place. :-)


CHAPTER 38

Lights flashed, siren blared and the ambulance driver shot off like a rally driver, a bona-fide life and death dash with Frank's life in his hands. Steve the paramedic staggered down the gangway, colliding with Carl, his colleague, who held on to the gurney's rail. Steve ended up at the rear of the ambulance.

Joe leaned across the gap and rested his hands on Frank's forearm. "Don't die on us Frank, yeah? Don't do that. Not after all the work you did. Not now you got Nancy back."

They continued to be thrown all over the place, so Carl advised Joe stretch out on the bench seat as a pillow appeared under his head.

The paramedics crouched awkwardly in the little spare room available to lower their center of balance. Carl briefly stood to take something from his pocket and turned his attention to Joe, perching himself on the end of the bench seat. Fair to say the younger Hardy brother's state of health had been neglected.

"I think I'm okay," Joe said. He tried to reach across the gangway to Frank, but Frank was too far away.

Carl took Joe's arm and rested it back on the bench. "Probably, but I'm taking a look at you anyway."

Joe attempted to relax as a light shone in his eye. Carl leaned right over him with his forearms pressed into his chest. Joe tried to ignore the beam making his headache worse and the bony elbows. It wasn't Carl's fault; he had to keep his equilibrium somehow.

The light-beam moved from one eye to the other, then it went away and Carl looked back at his partner.

Steve had gotten back onto his feet with one hand on the rail of Frank's bed. He switched his attention from monitoring Frank's vitals to watching Joe, especially when Carl didn't break contact.

"What?" Joe asked.

After a few seconds of unspoken commentary, Carl turned back. "Relax for me Joe, I'm going to take another look," and the light returned, flicking backwards and forwards from one eye to the other. Joe must have fidgeted or something because Carl said, "Okay Joe, I don't want you to move around, try to lie still, I know it's difficult, but I need you to be calm. Let us know if you start to feel nauseous." The light went away. "Can you lie on your side for me?"

"Why?" Joe asked, repositioning himself. At least this way he could see Frank. Carl retained a hand on his shoulder.

The vehicle slowed to a halt. Joe assumed they were stopping in traffic, but then the vehicle backed up and leaned to one side as it prepared to turn. The blinkers made as much noise as the siren, banging around in Joe's skull. Carl's hand went away and he stood. Joe looked to see him lean toward the driver. "What's going on? Why are we turning around?" He rubbed his eye hard to try and get his vision back.

Carl stuck a finger in his ear to shut Joe out, leaned closer to the driver, nodded and turned to relay something quickly to Steve. Carl turned awkwardly and joined Steve to mess with the life-saving equipment hooked into Frank's body. They began to remove the heart monitor. "Don't move Joe, stay there."

Joe went to protest but the ambulance swung into a tight about turn and rolled him onto his back. A hand found his shoulder and returned him to his original position. "Don't move." He looked to see the paramedics brace themselves as the vehicle slammed into forward motion again, and roll on at breakneck speed. Carl and Steve returned to Frank, to continue what they'd started.

"What's happening?" Joe shouted. "Stop what you're doing! Don't make me a liar, I told Frank we're safe." He sat up. "We don't know the code and Pandora's destroyed. Don't you get there's no profit in this? All you're gonna benefit from is Frank's death if you disconnect him to take him away." Joe swung his legs onto the floor and stood to battle their hands away from the machines and Frank. "This is insane…STOP!"

Steve caught Joe's wrists and pushed them away. "Joe, were not putting Frank at risk. Lie back, we're making a detour." He gave Joe a gentle push and the back of his legs hit the bench seat and folded so he sat down. The EMTs shared a look. "He's growing confused, getting over-excited."

"Confused, my ass!" Joe lurched to push himself between Frank and them. "Hello! I'm right here, talk to me, not at me. Stop this vehicle!" He now suspected the only reason he'd been allowed on the ambulance had been to trap the brother's in one place. "Get away from my bro!" The vehicle swayed violently. He lost his feet and tipped forward onto the seat again.

"Behave yourself," Steve ordered. "You could have fallen on your brother!"

Two pairs of hands seized Joe as he tried to get up again.

"Can't we go any faster?" Carl bellowed at the driver. "We got a volatile situation developing back here." The driver put his thumb up and the forward propulsion kicked up even more and unbalanced them. Steve tripped over his own feet and dropped down onto Joe. He used it as an excuse to hold Joe down while Carl attempted to lift Joe's legs onto the bench seat. Joe kicked him off, but Carl returned with a syringe in hand, drawing down liquid into it. "Nothing to worry about, Joe, I'm going to—"

"I don't think so, Pal!" Joe hit out and knocked the syringe from Carl's fingers, then used his superior strength to push Steve off. "You guys need to get off the script! You want over-excited and volatile? You're gonna get over-excited and volatile!" He got up and dived over into the front seat.

"What the—" the driver spluttered as Joe landed beside him. "Where did you spring from?"

"Your worst possible nightmare, Buster!" Joe swivelled around into a seated position, grabbed handfuls of the driver's jacket and reared up to shake him. "Stop this ambulance!" he snarled, but found himself blinded by lights and squinted out of the windshield to see they were coming up on a line of cars, their beams on full. He still couldn't see out of the one eye, but the other discerned a group of shadowed figures. Joe's arms momentarily stilled. "NO!" The brakes slammed on full and catapulted him into the dashboard, taking the driver with him.

The driver ripped himself free and snatched the door open to leap out onto the asphalt. "I don't get paid enough for this," he complained. Joe heard his voice recede as the man moved quickly away. "He attacked me…the size of him."

Joe reared up and glared darkly through the window at him. "You'd better run, Pal!"

The driver ran backwards a few more steps. "Sheesh!" People ran past the driver towards the ambulance.

"Don't touch him, I'll deal with it," someone shouted from the other side of the ambulance.

"I don't think you will," Joe muttered. He slid across into the driver's seat and reached for the ignition, ignoring the fact the split to his forehead had begun to bleed again. He glanced back to find Carl and Steve still there holding Frank steady and not looking at all secure in their surroundings. Joe didn't have time to eject them so decided to take them along. "Hold tight, Boys, we're going for a ride!" Joe called. "You do anything to Frank and you'll pay…massively." He reached to shut the driver's door but someone held it open. Joe shrugged his shoulders. "You get pulled along as I back up? Your problem!"

The passenger door opened and someone prepared to climb aboard but Joe's hand had already grasped the key. He turned the engine over. Regrettably the transmission wasn't in neutral and the ambulance jerked, stalled and rocked him into the steering column. He curled his lip in frustration.

Men were at the driver's door about to grab Joe, as someone pulled themselves on to the passenger seat.

"DAMMIT!" Joe bellowed. He reached to unhook a fire extinguisher, held it high and spun toward the intruder.

"Joe, STOP!"

He jerked his arm back and froze at the sight of his dad.

"You okay?" Fenton asked calmly, and gently took the extinguisher from him as someone else reached inside to pluck the key from the ignition.

"What the…FREAK'S happening, Dad? Suddenly we were turning and no one would tell me why and they came at me with a hypo, exactly like what happened to Nan. They're unhooking Frank from the machines. We need to stop them, they're KILLING him!" He swiped at his eye, he still couldn't see. He grunted angrily. "Stupid eye!"

Fenton placed hands on his upper arms. "Listen carefully, Joe," he said in a quiet tone as he held solid eye contact. "They've sent an air-ambulance for both of you. A chopper arrived after you left so they recalled the ambulance. Everyone wants to help. You grasping what I'm telling you?"

"I'm not a moron!"

"I know…I know. I think your head's worse than we thought, but it's all good."

His dad's soothing voice ensured Joe became calmer in response. He looked back into the interior to see a group of people in clothes which screamed 'military' lifting Frank off. Frank had been severed from the portable ventilator but they'd reintroduced the mask and were manually pumping air in rhythmically. One of the mystery men climbed back aboard and moved further into the ambulance to dip and presumably pick up another piece of equipment.

Joe switched to look out of the front window and realized the cars barring their way were squad cars with their front lights beaming their way. Ben Wright stood there, with a look of concern. Finally, Joe looked at his father. "I think…I misread things. My head's banging."

"No surprise." Fenton rose onto his knees until he was above his son, and put his arms around his son's shoulders. "Look at Ben, I think you worried him half to death when you ran off."

Joe looked, and as he turned away he experienced a prickle of heat in his neck. He spun back to see the guy who'd just climbed aboard with a syringe in his hand. "Sorry, was necessary," he said and laid a hand on Joe shoulder. "Can't have you getting agitated on the chopper."

"Dad? What did you do?" Joe asked feeling his head growing heavy and already hearing his own voice slurring. He found himself angled precariously over the open doorway, the only thing stopping him from falling out onto the road being his father's arms. "Come on, Son, job's done," his father said into his ear. Then Joe felt himself tilted over the tipping point and gentle hands caught and supported him down onto a stretcher.

-o0o-

'You're a father now, Constantine Riley! Time to step up the plate…imbecile!'

Con, continued to internally berate himself as he stepped from the car outside the Oaklands Hotel. He couldn't help it. Although irrational, his conscience continued to beat him about the head, doing a good job of convincing him he should hold himself accountable for what had happened to James and Vanessa.

"You all right?" Mrs Holliday asked with a frown as he stepped into the hall.

No he wasn't, but he wasn't about to tell her that. "It's Vanessa I'm concerned about," he hedged. "Where is she?"

"Up in the panic room, having a lie down. She fainted and is running a temperature. Overdone it I expect. Look, Con. Do you want a coffee? I can put a brandy in it?"

Con ignored her offer and glared over her head towards the stars. "She fainted? A worry!"

"Not really, Con. I'm surprised it didn't happen earlier. Stress and a lack of sleep…coffee?"

"She decent?" He stared down at his bloodied hands.

"Go on up, she'll be glad to see you."

"I need to wash my hands," he muttered. "I don't want to scare her any more than she already is." Con climbed the stairs and went to his room, let himself in and shut the door.

He leaned back against the wood and closed his eyes, but then he looked down again at his hands and then up to the bathroom. He went there, stripping off his jacket, vest, belt, gun and shirt as he went, abandoning them wherever they landed. At the basin, he ran the faucet on full until he got the water as steaming hot as he could stand, and went about meticulously scrubbing his son's blood away. He did this four times over, hard, with a nail brush, grimacing as the scolding hot water turned pink, almost as pink as his scorched and scratched arms. Eventually satisfied, he released the murky water into the drainage system.

He collapsed next to the toilet pan to be violently sick, then sat and waited for it to happen again, expecting it to, but it didn't. So, he stood and got damn angry. Paced the room and raved under his breath, putting himself freakin' straight.

There followed a period of relative stillness as he cleaned his teeth, splashed his face with cold water and changed into a fresh shirt - a grey one to match his mood. He hadn't button it properly before he felt his fury rise again, so sat on the edge of the bed to really calm down. His knees bounced. He didn't want Vanessa to witness him in that state, so he lay back and covered his eyes with his forearm, his booted feet now still on the carpet. He tried Joe's trick of counting slowly back from ten.

"Con," a voice said and shook him firmly.

He gasped and opened his eyes to see Mrs Holliday at the foot of the bed with his spare bedroom key in her hand. "Man alive!" he said, sat up quickly and fastened his shirt fully. He hadn't meant to fall asleep. "How long?"

"About two hours. I knocked on the door but you didn't hear me. Fenton's phoned, wondering where you are. James's gone into surgery.

"I promised I'd be there!"

"You wouldn't have been in time. They prioritised him, wheeled him straight through. Frank's in surgery too. Joe took a bad turn in the ambulance so they're running tests and he's staying in." She smiled at him. "You boys need to take better care of yourselves! Vanessa needed the rest, and so did you apparently so no harm done."

"I need to see her." Con got up and went into the hallway. "Idiot!" he spat at himself as he headed to the end of the corridor. "Suckiest father ever!"