A/n: The slightest of departures here, while still being within my self imposed constraints. No sign of the boys, but the bad guys aren't the only ones you get to see. I realize that these chapters from the BG point of view jump further ahead and when you next see the boys it's a back track of sorts, but when you factor in I am only wanting to show you the BG in specific instances, you will hopefully realize they don't have as much to say. Also, it extends the cliff hanger from Ch 9 that much longer bwahahahah
Chapter Ten
Aldo Mazzola congratulated himself on his choice of ambush locations. On a secluded stretch of the only road that led into Bayport from this direction, he picked two spots that were on curves in areas miles from civilization. He only wished they were also cell phone dead zones, but those were becoming ever more rare. He compensated by bringing along a scanner where he kept a close ear on the emergency frequencies. Even if Hardy survived the crash he would be causing by shooting out the tire, Mazolla would hear any 911 call made and be able to act accordingly.
He allowed himself the luxury of sleeping from 10 pm til just after 5 am, which gave him plenty of time to set up the high powered sniper rifle. He settled in and forced himself to stay relaxed. His patience was rewarded just before 930 am when the sound of a well tuned sports car reached his ears before it was within sight. It was only the second car to pass by since he had laid down behind the rifle at 530. Using the scope, he easily recognized the Impala and a yellow, feral grin appeared as he noted the second person in the car. The fact that Frank Hardy was driving caused him only a second's hesitation. He knew the elder brother had less experience driving the car and was therefore not as in tune with its handling. He was betting it would be harder to keep control once the tire blew.
With Joe being in the passenger seat and thus closer to him, Mazolla briefly considered going for the head shot, but discarded that thought almost immediately. That wouldn't cause the car to crash and he could not take the chance that Frank might survive. He took aim and gently squeezed the trigger just as the car was reaching the curve. He kept his eye on the sight and followed the car around the curve until it disappeared out of his view. He waited an eternity for the tell tale sound of metal crunching or brakes squealing; but after three minutes there was nothing and he had to conclude he had failed. He swiftly stood and raced to the small motor bike he had concealed earlier and drove it over the the ridge to his next spot, having timed the distance between his prior location and this one to be 30 minutes by car, but by his route he made it in just over 15. That gave him plenty of time to get situated in this new spot. The entire time time he kept an ear glued to the scanner, and couldn't decide whether to be glad there was no call about a car accident on Route 53 or not.
Using a sniper rifle identical to the one he had left at the other location, he resumed the same position, deciding to wait an hour to see if the Impala made an appearance. 90 minutes later, there was no sign of the car, no chatter on any emergency frequency and no sound of sirens rushing to the scene of a bad car accident. Furthermore not a single other car had traveled in either direction. Aldo concluded, therefore, that the car had missed the guardrail completely and gone straight over the cliff. He knew he would be unable to visually confirm this though, due to the possibility of leaving behind evidence such as tire tracks or other clues to indicate someone arrived and had not rendered any aid. Rather reluctantly, he packed up everything and went to report to Vincente his probable success.
Sam Radley was woken up at the ungodly hour of 8 am on Sunday. He had gone to bed extremely late the night before having stayed til the very end of the reception, which had been temporarily suspended due to a power outage that lasted about 45 minutes after a very strong storm blew through town during the ceremony itself. There were many jokes about omens among the guests, but the bride and groom took it all in stride and invited everyone to come to the spot they had chosen to get their wedding pictures taken. By the time that was done, word had come back that the banquet hall had power and was ready for them.
As he stumbled down the stairs blearily, telling Ethel to stay in bed, he groused "I'm coming already!" as the doorbell was joined by insistent pounding. "Sheesh." Throwing open the door, ready to ream out whoever it was, he stopped mid growl at the interloper. He stood there, gaping until she pushed past him into the hallway.
Spinning around, Joanna hissed in a low voice that was positively reeking with fear "How's your bomb defusing skills?!"
Sam shook his head to clear the almost hangover that was threatening to invade. "That's more Frank's territory than mine. Why do you ask?" already suspecting he really didn't want to know.
"Went by the office this morning. I wanted some peace and quiet, the kids are driving me insane and Jim was going to be busy all day working on the yard. Figured I'd get some paperwork done." Joanna had calmed down a fraction, but her eyes were still nervous. "Of course the storm knocked out the power there and all the breakers were tripped, so I went down into the basement to reset them." she took out her cell phone and held it out. "I found this attached to the box."
Sam gingerly took the proffered phone and gasped at the slightly out of focus picture she had taken.
"Holy shit." he breathed, going pale.
"I ran out of there and straight here. There is no way in hell I am going to bother a single Hardy about this right now." she still spoke quietly.
"Probably a smart move. Let me make a phone call." He ran upstairs and pulled on a pair of slacks and tossed a polo shirt on even as he soothed Ethel back into slumber. As he came back down stairs he was already dialing. "Con. I really hate to call you at this hour but we got a problem." he quickly described Joanna's discovery and even had her email the picture to the chief of Police's phone. "I think we need to keep this extra quiet. As in let's not tell Fenton or the boys. Joe doesn't need his honeymoon ruined."
Con agreed, his own post wedding reception hangover immediately replaced by a crisis induced headache that was just as bad. He instructed the two to meet him and the bomb squad at the Agency in 15 minutes. Once off the phone with Sam, he got to work, making phones calls in between getting dressed. He told Lt Matthesen of EOD to do this on the down low. "Unmarked vehicle, no lights or sirens. Stealthy, got it? I'll meet you there." Upon hearing the affirmative, he hung up and made his way to his car and drove right to the Agency, thanking the powers that be that it was quiet on the streets and he didn't need to announce his presence.
By the time he arrived, everyone else had as well. Matthesen had indeed took his instructions to heart, none of his people were in uniform, although he knew all the safety gear would be in the back of the nondescript black panel van he was casually leaning against. "Have you seen it?" Con Riley asked crisply as he stepped out of his car.
"Yup. Rigged to blow via timer mid morning on Monday. Big enough to destroy the entire building." When he heard that, Sam swore under his breath, suddenly all too aware that not three weeks earlier, Phil and Pam Cohen had moved out of the apartment upstairs in anticipation of her giving birth. Pam had been telecommuting since her pregnancy had been wrought with very severe morning sickness and her doctor advised that she decrease her workload. If they were still living there, the casualty list would have included innocents, not counting anyone who happened to be walking by when it blew.
"Can you disarm it?" was all he said, albeit tensely.
"Yup. I recognized the design. It's a Hollister."
When he heard the name, Sam's swearing reached audible levels. Joanna just looked at him blankly until he explained. "Fenton put Paul Hollister away years ago. His specialty was blowing up safes. His two kids followed in their old man's footsteps and when Dear Old Dad died in prison..." he broke off at Joanna's understanding nod.
"Swore revenge. Gotcha." She looked at Sam. "Do we call Fenton now?"
"Nope. He's retired anyway. I wanna take care of this first. Present it as a fait accompli. No need to get hm worked up, or Frank. You and I can do this. Shouldn't take too long to corner the rats." He turned to Con who was quietly discussing the plan with Matthesen. "Any chance of some help, Con?"
"Of course. Anything you need, the Department's resources are all yours."
A tense couple of hours were spent with Matthesen and his team painstakingly disarming the bomb while a nervous Sam, Joanna and Con waited outside and out of blast radius. Con had also quietly brought in the Fire department. "Just in case." but the EOD expert eventually came outside with a smile on his tired face.
"Got it. My boys are bagging it now." Audible sighs of relief all around competed with words of thanks. Matthesen shrugged it off, saying "All in a days' work. Hey Chief is it okay if the boys take tomorrow off?!" he grinned at his boss. "Or you could just pay us all overtime for coming in on a weekend..." he trailed off in amusement.
"Thought you were on call 24/7/365?!" Con retorted before grinning himself and giving his okay.
Three days later, Sam and Joanna had tracked down the Hollister siblings to Rio and amazingly enough got no grief at all from local authorities who are all too willing to help the Americanos apprehend the siblings who had extensive Interpol dossiers. Sam flew down alone as Joanna was unable to find a last second babysitter on three hours' notice, although she did suggest bringing up the possibility of hiring a nanny and billing it to the Agency as part of her expense account. The raid was painless and brother and sister were taken with little fuss. But that is where the good luck streak ended. Despite being taken separately and having no interaction, neither Hollister talked.. at all. No amount of questioning got Sam anywhere, or the Interpol agent from Italy who invited herself along to see if she could persuade the Americans to let her have them instead, over a high profile and deadly bomb that killed several bank employees and customers a few years earlier.
Eventually, Sam called Fenton from Rio and broke the news, asking for his opinion. After some thought, Fenton decided to let Interpol have their crack. "They failed to get their revenge, and that's better than any jail time we could impose. Interpol is a lot less forgiving. But when you get back I expect a full report and a damn good explanation as to why you never even told Frank!" Properly chagrined, Sam promised to 'fess all when he returned.
A/n: and at least one crisis averted. but will the Impala survive?! Remember what I did to Joe's Mustang...See you on Tuesday!