"How many’s that you’ve made?" asked Frank over his shoulder to Kiwi who was stretched out across the back seat of the hatchback.

"About 20," he muttered, pulling the twine tightly around the arrow’s nock trapping the three flight feathers. Two of the feathers were black, one white. The white feather would hopefully stand out in the dark, and act as an indication as to which way the arrow should be loaded onto the bowstring. It was hoped this would give Kiwi at least a fighting chance of letting off the arrows accurately while concealed in the darkness of the trees. He tied it off and snipped away the excess thread with his craft knife.

"20? Will that be enough?"

"It’ll have to be, we’re almost there and you need to drop me off."

Frank looked out of the side window and realized his friend was correct. "Okay, I’ll let you out here, but you’ve got to be careful you’re not spotted, the dark clothes won’t protect you from the seeing eye if you’re stupid about things."

"Relax Frank Mate, just worry about your side of things, and allow me to worry about mine."

"Okay," Frank conceded, feeling a tension headache beginning to form between his eyes. The older Hardy brother hated feeling out of control, but this situation was totally out of his hands. He tried to ignored the impending migraine and pulled the car over. Walking around to the back of the hatchback and rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand, he opened the door and helped Kiwi unload Alex’s longbow and arrows. Kiwi shoved as many arrows as possible into Alex’s quiver and pushed the remainder into his belt. Frank leaned on the 5ft bow and look up at his friend, his eyes flashing in the moonlight, "promise me you’ll be real careful Kiwi," he pleaded again, handing his friend a small coin like object.

Kiwi looked hard at his friend, his mouth set in a tight line, "Frank…don’t do this to yourself!" he accepted the round disc and shoved it deeply into his pocket. Taking the bow from his American friend he pulled hard on the string and let it go with a loud ‘twang’ to test the tension. Without another word he turned and was gone into the trees, the darkness quickly swallowing him up.

***

Joe squinted as the door was suddenly flung open, the sudden dazzling light hurting his sensitive eyes. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been lying on the cold-concreted floor, but knew it had been a few hours judging from the pain in his cramped limbs and the numbness to his hands and bare feet.

Two men came forward without giving him time to recover his senses and forced a pillowcase over his head, tucking it firmly down his shirt’s neck opening. He was hoisted up and near enough carried from the room. Totally disorientated as to what was happening, Joe had no choice but to allow himself to be lifted and tossed onto the back of a vehicle. He felt the automobile lurch as the weight of further people were added to the load. Hearing the slamming of back doors, he realized he must be on the back of a van or truck.

"Let’s go," someone ordered, a voice Joe hadn’t heard before – it was certainly not one of the men he’d previously met.

Joe had been trying to sit up but when the vehicle began moving it caused him to loose his balance. Someone grabbed him tightly around the waist and pulled him back until he was leaning more comfortably against the wall of the van, "look Kid," a male voice whispered urgently, close to his cloth covered head, "don’t cause any trouble or anything. Just behave yourself and do everything you’re told and you’ll get home, okay? I can only protect you up to a point." Joe nodded and the stranger patted him on the shoulder.

"What’s that you’re saying to the boy?" snapped a voice.

"Nothing Mike."

***

Frank parked the car in the parking lot and disembarked. He retrieved something heavy from the passenger foot-well, pushed it down the back of his trousers and disguised it’s presence by dropping his shirt over the top. He knew he was taking a terrible risk, but didn’t want to place the whole burden of responsibility on his New Zealand friend’s shoulders – which was the reason he’d decided against letting him in on his insane, back-up plan.

He checked his watch again - only ten minutes to go. "I hope Kiwi’s managed to get himself into position."

His hand crept up to the ring hanging about his neck, his fingers playing absently with it as he walked across the bridge. He rounded the trees, seeing the huge expanse of abandoned park laid out in front of him. Heart hammering, he walked confidently forward and stood in the center of the vast grassy area.

Presently, he saw the dark outline of a van come through the far foliage. It was driven down the field until it’s headlights picked Frank’s lone figure out and then stopped and began to turn around. The older Hardy brother retrieved a small item from his top pocket while walking forward to meet the vehicle.

Someone disembarked from the passenger side and advanced until he was in a position to address Frank, he was donned in a balaclava. "Alex Morris?" he asked loudly.

"Correct," Frank replied, hoping his accent was ‘English’ enough. To his relief the man didn’t look twice at him, but continued around the back, unlatched the doors and flung them wide.

Frank took in the chilling site of his brother being held up by two men dressed identically to the first man. Joe was tied hand and foot and his head was encased in a hood of some sort.

"Are you okay Joe?" asked Frank. Joe nodded.

"You got the ring?" asked the first man again.

Frank lifted the long lace over his head and indicated he had the ring by swinging it to and fro in front of him.

"Stop messing about and throw it over here," said the man.

Frank over-armed it hard, flinging it towards the back of the van. The man made a grab for it as it sailed passed but missed. "Temper…temper…!" He muttered. Climbing up into the vehicle he quickly locating the ring again. Pulling a small flashlight from his pocket, he proceeded to inspect the piece of jewelry closely.

"You’ve got the ring, now release my friend," Frank pleaded.

The man shook his head and carried on looking at the prize closely. He wandered behind Joe and then came up to the shoulder of the man standing to Joe’s right, he whispered something in his ear and the man released the younger Hardy brother’s arm, transferring the responsibility of co-supporting their captive to his leader. He jumped down and headed around the side of the van and climbed into the recently vacated passenger seat.

"It’s a nice ring isn’t it?" asked the man, hooking it around Joe’s neck.

Frank swallowed, realizing something had gone wrong, "yes it is, will you release my friend now?"

The man in the balaclava laughed and shook his head almost sadly, "how much of a fool to you think I am Alex? Did you really think you could fool me a second time?" He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a pistol.

"Uh oh…" thought Frank, trying hard not to panic. He watched horrified as the man turned side on and pushed the gun into his brother’s temple.

Even though blind as to what was being done to him, Joe had obviously realized what was happening and made a clumsy attempt to jerk away. Mike’s grip tightened on his arm and he pressed the pistol even harder to the teenager’s head.

The man on the other side of Joe jerked upright, his eyes going wide behind the balaclava, "what are you doing?" he screeched.

"I’m sick of playing about with these people, I want the ring back, and if it means killing one or two of them to get to it – so be it! Rather them then me…"

"You can’t do it Mike! Are you insane?" shouted his friend.

Frank’s hand went immediately to the back of his jeans and he started to raise his shirttail, realizing, that despite his confident assurances, Kiwi must have lost his nerve.

Mike started to pull the trigger back and Frank shut his eyes, not wanting to witness what was about to occur, knowing he wasn’t going to be quick enough to put a stop to what was happening. Suddenly feeling a puff of air next to his ear and hearing a buzzing noise, Frank’s eyes snapped open in time to see an arrow hit the gun broadside, sending it tumbling grip over barrel into the confines of the van.

"GET OUT OF THE WAY ALEX!" the familiarly accented voice of Kiwi roared from behind him and he threw himself face forward, just as another arrow thudded into the side wall of the van, actually burying itself, quivering, into the metalwork - right next to Mike’s head. Its flight path had been right where Frank’s head had been positioned seconds before.

Mike’s reluctant friend had already retreated further into the back of the van and was curled up into a ball. The other three in the front seats had ducked for cover, and could not longer be seen. Another five arrows zapped the van in close order, with Mike still standing there stunned, a sitting duck.

Frank looked up and saw Mike looking about him for the gun, while still holding Joe up with one hand. When an arrow missed his brother’s shoulder by about a centimeter Frank decided to call a halt to the proceedings.

"KIWI, STOP!" he shouted. The arrows ceased their flight and Frank got to his feet again, he was just about to start taking charge when he heard Kiwi speak up in a commanding tone, he turned surprised in the direction of his friend’s controlled voice.

"Martin, I know that’s you, and you certainly know who I am. You also know I’m a crack shot with this long bow – a much better shot than you’ll ever be with a gun - especially in the dark." Mike stopped looking about and froze, "I’ve got an arrow aimed right at your head, let Joe go, or I’m going to drop you where you stand."

Everything went very quiet, and Frank suddenly became aware of how cold the night was, he looked back at Joe and his captor, hoping Mike would take heed of Kiwi’s order. He tried to figure out how many arrows Kiwi must have remaining and estimated it at around six or so.

Mike had been standing stock still all this time, his eyes the only thing giving away his panicked expression. Pulling himself together, he suddenly dragged Joe across in front of him to use him as a human shield.

"Let him go!" insisted Frank loudly, taking a couple of warning steps forward, realizing Kiwi’s advantage was gone.

"I don’t think so," replied Mike, starting to yank Joe backwards in the direction of the gun.

"OH NO YOU DON’T" shouted Frank, taking a running jump onto the footplate and pulling out a morning-star flail from the back of his jeans.

"FRANK?" shouted Kiwi in astonishment through the trees, forgetting to call him Alex altogether.

Mike’s eyes widened with a mixture of fear and frustration when he saw the ball of spikes, dangling from the handle in Frank’s hand and immediately shoved Joe violently forward, causing the two Hardy brothers to collide together. They both fell from the back of the van and landed with a dull thud on the grass, Joe’s forehead came into sharp contact with Frank’s temple, knocking his older brother senseless.

Mike made a grab for the gun, quickly walked to the doorway again and pointed the weapon down towards the two stricken brothers, he carefully aimed and was about to fire when he felt a strong stinging pain and numbness in his fingers as an arrow speared his hand. He dropped the gun and screamed, clutching his injured, bleeding limb.

Looking at the macabre site of the arrow sticking out of his hand, Mike bellowed, "GET US OUT OF HERE!" to the driver. He threw himself to the floor as two more arrows passed over his head and pierced the windscreen, shattering it into tiny pieces. The van suddenly lurched away, it’s open doors swinging wildly. "THIS ISN’T THE END – DO YOU HEAR ME? THIS…IS…NOT…THE…END!" yelled Mike as the van headed upfield, steering to and fro in order to avoid the last couple of arrows, which flew at the tires.

***

Kiwi threw down the long bow and crashed out through the trees towards his stricken friends. He could see Joe moving about, trying to disentangle himself, but Frank didn’t appear to be moving at all.

"Joe? You okay Matey?" he asked, pulling him upwards into a sitting position and ripping away the pillow case to look into his face. Joe mouthed the word, "yes" and looked down mortified at his brother’s still form, lying beside him.

"Man! You have one hard head bro!" Frank suddenly said quietly and winced when his hand touched his temple.

Kiwi, who was leaning over Frank at this point, allowed his anger and concern to boil over, "you nearly gave me a heart attack jumping on the back of the van like that with a morning-star flail – WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?" he yelled while inspecting the older Hardy brother’s forehead. Satisfied Frank was not badly injured he turned his attention to untying Joe’s wrists and feet, "you don’t even know how to use one of those things!" he continued.

"I had to do something, Joe was about to be taken again – or worse!" Frank argued. He sat up slowly his eyes finally focusing properly on his brother and friend. "Anyhow, it’s all in a days work for Joe and me…"

Kiwi gave a deep sigh, feeling himself calming down again. "What made you pick a flail for goodness sake? Wouldn’t a mace have been a more practical weapon?"

Frank grinned sheepishly, "but it looked so…so…mean hanging there on it’s hook on the basement wall!" he replied.

"Dear god - Alex has created a monster!"

Frank turned his attention to his tired looking brother and pulled him in for a hug, pounding him on the back, Joe returned the gesture as well as he could, his hands still numb. With one arm still about Joe’s shoulders he offered his other hand to Kiwi, "thanks Dave, that’s three I owe you now…"

"…Three?" asked Kiwi quizzically, gripping Frank’s hand back with both of his.

"Yeah, you’ve saved my life twice now, and now Joe’s life as well."

"Hey, it’s all in a day’s work for me, mate" he batted back, laughing. Suddenly his grin dropped, and his face became deadly serious, "Guys?…"

"What?" asked Frank, glancing about nervously.

"Can you hear what I’m hearing?"

The three of them began to look about, trying to ascertain what it was Kiwi was listening to. They simultaneously realized what the noise was when they saw a car come bursting through the trees on the other side of the park and head at speed straight at them – it was Mike’s sport’s car.

Kiwi stood up, attempting to pull Joe to his feet at the same time.

Frank staggered upright, still feeling dazed and realized he’d automatically picked up the morning-star flail from the ground. He shook his head to clear it and started running a little unsteadily towards the speeding car.

"Frank! Don’t be stupid, it’s suicide!" yelled Kiwi, holding Joe up who was having difficulty standing upright.

"Get Joe out of the way, head for the trees!" snapped Frank now running full tilt.

Kiwi pulled Joe’s arm about his shoulders and began moving them both as quickly as possible away from harm’s way, "is your brother always this rashly impulsive?" he asked through gritted teeth.

Joe wanted so desperately to answer with, "no, that’s usually my prerogative…" but, of course, was unable to.