Mike Gregg/Martin Grantham had obviously decided Alex Morris/Frank Hardy was the preferred hit-and-run target because, although there were easier victims to mow down, he totally ignored the other two fleeing figures and spun the car on the grass and roared straight for the older Hardy brother.

Kiwi and Joe plunged into the greenery and tripped up. Although they both fell down, the New Zealander was immediately up on his feet again. Looking down at Joe who had raised himself up on his elbows, Kiwi ordered his friend to: "stay down," and pointed at Joe like he was a pet dog being taught a new ‘trick’, "you should be safer here, I’m going to help Frank out." He spun round and sprinting off.

"Who’s on a suicide mission now?" thought Joe as he watch his friend loping off.

He could see his brother on the grass standing stock still, obviously having out-maneuvered the car for the moment. His weapon arm was slightly raised, the spiked ball swaying to and fro. The moonlight was bouncing off the car’s hood at an angle, and showed a deep and painful looking indentation in the gleaming metal work - obviously Frank’s aim with the morning-star flail had been good.

The Toyota was turning in readiness for another assault. Frank was shouting "COME ON MIKE, COME AND GET ME - IF YOU CAN!" - obviously to keep Mike distracted while his brother and Kiwi escaped, unaware that Kiwi had simply dumped Joe in the nearby trees and was coming to his aid.

The car wheel-span and headed for it’s victim at a terrifying speed, it’s headlight beams full-on, flooding Frank’s vision. Joe felt more than a little scared for his brother and mentally urged Kiwi to hurry up and make his move.

Standing his ground, with his free arm shielding his eyes from the glare Frank was waiting for the optimum moment to jump clear. He was suddenly made aware of a smashing sound as an object was propelled through the side window of the car. Mike, also taken by surprise swerved the car and stalled it leaving Frank looking about him, stunned as to the this mysterious turn of events. Kiwi was instantly at his side, grabbing at his arm and hauling him away.

The car engine had been immediately fired-up and was being revved again, but this time Kiwi and Frank were one step ahead, and were plunging into the trees before the car was able to catch up with them. It stopped an mere inch from the oak tree Joe was sitting behind and they could see Mike bashing the steering wheel in frustration with the heel of his uninjured hand.

Helping Joe to his feet again, all three teenagers started to move quickly, Kiwi grabbing Alex’s longbow where he’d discarded it earlier as they passed by. Joe’s feet were finally starting to come to life and he found he was able to walk almost unaided. Luckily, the ground was mostly soft, so he was able to move without the fear of injuring his naked feet.

They listened to the sound of the sports car moving away into the distance.

"We’d better get back to the car pronto Mates. It’s only a minute drive from the other side to the car park. I’ll bet that Martin…Mike, or whatever-his-name-is will be driving around to head us off," Kiwi advised.

Frank suddenly had a horrible thought. "I hope the van’s not waiting for us," he said, pulling the other two up short, just before the bridge.

They stepped back into the overhanging branches and peered out. They could see the hatchback parked where Frank had left it, but there was no sign of the van. "Let’s chance it, we can’t stay here," decided the older Hardy brother. Remembering the ground covering on the parking lot, he passed the morning-star flail to Kiwi and hoisted his surprised brother up onto his shoulders, before moving onto the bridge. "You’d cut your feet to ribbons on the gravel," he offered by way of explanation.

Kiwi dug Frank’s car keys from his friend’s pocket and ran on ahead, listening out for the telltale sounds of a speeding car. He had the back door open and was throwing the weapons inside when he detected the first noises. "Frank Mate, quick, he’s coming," he said urgently, his voice sounding panicky - he’d had enough excitement, fear and adrenaline for one night, and just wanted to get home in one piece. He jumped into the driving seat, and fumbled shakily with the keys for a few seconds before succeeding in lodging it into the ignition and gunning the engine.

Frank opened the back passenger door and he and Joe both tumbled unceremoniously into the back together.

Kiwi immediately shot away, causing Joe to slip gracefully down into the gap between the front and back seats and the door to slam shut unaided behind them.

Gripping a headrest for balance, Joe hauled himself up and sat back into the vacant seat his brother had left for him.

Frank looked across at his younger brother and wanted to laugh because Joe’s hair was standing completely on end, but before he could, Kiwi took a sharp corner at speed and both brothers crashed into one another again.

"Whoa Kiwi! Take it easy!" Frank requested, rubbing his aching chest.

"No can do mate - enemy to the rear." The Hardy boys looked behind them and saw immediately what Kiwi was talking about, the Toyota was directly behind them, it’s more powerful engine preventing their escape, "help me Frank, I’m rubbish at this car driving thing!" begged Kiwi fearfully.

"You’ve done great so far…" began Frank reassuringly.

"…HELP ME!"

Frank leaned forward and placed his hand on Kiwi’s shoulder. "Okay Kiwi, but you need to relax, panicking will just make your driving worse."

"RELAX?" Kiwi screeched, "try telling that to the mad-insane-nutcase-bloke driving up behind us with the gun!"

Frank glanced up into the rear view mirror and saw Mike brandishing the pistol. Mike thrust his arm out of the window and started to aim it at them. "GET DOWN!" Frank shouted and he and Joe ducked.

"OH MY GOD!" Kiwi shouted, hunkering down in his seat and putting even more speed on, "HE’S GONNA KILL US!"

Mike didn’t shoot immediately and started driving the sports car up the side of the hatchback, as he drew level with Kiwi’s door, he looked across and started indicated with the gun for the New Zealander to pull over. "NOT BLOOMING LIKELY MATE…" yelled Kiwi and stomped on the brake. They screeched to a halt and the sports car shot away, ahead of them, fooled completely by Kiwi’s maneuver.

Kiwi Dave immediately started backing up speedily, pulled on the emergency brake and turned the steering wheel with all his might, performed a perfect 180 degree spin before streaking away again, the tires smoking.

"There you go Kiwi, my friend, told you all you had to do was relax!" said Frank, sounding out of breath. Joe leant forward and gripped his friend enthusiastically on the upper arm.

"More likely my need for the toilet actually, because there is NO WAY I feel relaxed…HERE HE COMES AGAIN!"

"Wait until you’re almost passing the next right turn and then swing into it at the last second," Frank instructed.

"And that’ll work?…" Kiwi shrieked in disbelief, peering wide-eyed into the mirror as Mike got closer and closer to their back fender. He saw the next right turn coming up and put even more power on, second guessing Mike’s intention of bumping them. Mike floored the accelerator and nudged the hatchback, throwing Kiwi forward into the steering wheel. "NOW HE’S REALLY MADE ME MAD!" the New Zealander roared.

Frank and Joe glanced at one another upon seeing the determination on Kiwi’s face in the mirror. Drawing level with the right hand turn, Kiwi suddenly pulled hard on the wheel, throwing all his weight into it, turning the hatchback at the last possible second, the car skidding with the exertion. Mike’s Toyota carried on forward, clipping the corner of their fender, helping their vehicle to turn even more quickly. Kiwi got the car back under control and headed up the road.

Joe, watching out of the back window, was satisfied to note that Mike’s car had gone into an out-of-control spin. It was obvious he was going to lose valuable time trying to get his sports car back on target.

Joe’s head snapped back round when he heard someone crying, he locked eyes with his brother, both of them mortified. It was only after a few seconds they realized the noise wasn’t weeping, it was Kiwi’s famous manic laughter. "Showed him, didn’t I guys?" he said, thumping the gear stick in his excitement, "this car chase stuff is great fun…GREAT FUN!"

"If you say so Kiwi," said Frank, his brow furrowed. He and Joe exchanged quick grins.

Joe nudged his brother and pointed out the back window. In the distance he’d spotted a red car. Frank had to squint for a few long seconds before spying what his brother was seeing. "Erm…Kiwi…I think you might have spoken too soon, Mike’s on our trail again."

"Doesn’t that guy EVER give up?" snapped Kiwi through gritted teeth, "I’m tired of this, let’s LOOSE THIS SUCKER!" With that he screeched around the next left and roared up the street, passing darkened houses and turned right with a purpose.

Frank and Joe were starting to get disorientated, not sure where their friend was taking them, Kiwi saw their expressions in the mirror and smiled. "Don’t panic guys, there’s method in my madness…" he put the brakes on and slapped the gears into reverse "…and the madness is here." He began backing up someone’s driveway and drove straight into an open garage.

The short, stockily built, bald headed man who’d been leaning over a work bench at the back of the garage turned in astonishment with his mouth hanging open as the car stopped two feet from his legs. Before he could utter a word of objection, Kiwi was jumping out and lowering the door shutters loudly. He finally turned around and addressed the man, "hi Paul, sorry to drop in unannounced like this, but we ran into a spot of trouble – hope you don’t mind mate?"

"Help yourself." replied Paul, pushing his glasses up his nose, no longer looking the least bit bemused.

"Great!"

"What been going on?" asked Paul, folding his arms and looking quizzically up at the New Zealander.

"I didn’t take your advice that’s what, we tried to fight someone bigger than us with the table leg, when we should have been using the table. It’s just lucky I remembered you like to do your wood-turning at night."

Frank and Joe alighted from the car and turned to meet the man before them.

Paul looked them both up and down, his eyes resting on Joe’s dirty bare feet, his face barely hiding his amusement. "I used to know people like you. They’re known as layabouts now, but in my day they were called hippies!" he joked.

"Erm...can someone tell us what’s going on?" asked Frank hesitantly, looking from one to the other, "and what’s all this about table legs?"

***

"You should have told me about Mike attacking you," Frank was remonstrating at Kiwi as they entered the house. He turned and started dead-bolting the front door.

"I didn’t think about it once I’d discovered Joe was missing, I was just too panicked! Besides, you didn’t tell me about the morning-star flail, so I think we’re about even - wouldn’t you say?"

Frank made a growling noise and switched the kitchen light on.

Joe padded passed in his bare feet giving Frank barely enough time to lurch forward and pull him to a stop before he stepped on a deadly piece of glass. Joe looked down and jumped backwards in surprise.

"Better put something on your feet, we didn’t have time to sweep up," instructed his brother wisely.

Joe clutched his heart and went to find some footwear.

"Look at the state of this place," Kiwi muttered.

Frank raised an eyebrow in agreement. "We’d better get this place ship-shape tomorrow, this’ll be the last thing Helen will want to be seeing."

Joe entered again and went immediately to the back door and surveyed the clumsy looking fix-up job Kiwi and Frank had made. Looking like a game-show assistant, he indicated towards it with both hands and started to laugh.

"Yeah, thanks Joe, we know - you don’t need to tell us. We were a bit strapped for time," Frank pointed out.

Joe’s eyes fell on the biscuit barrel and he immediately headed for it, glass crunching under foot. He ripped the lid off and grabbed a handful before plowing into them like a man half-starved.

Frank turned to Kiwi, who was watching Joe with a faint look of amusement. "You told me earlier that you knew Mike previously as Martin Grantham?"

Kiwi nodded and Joe immediately took another handful of cookies and came forward to listen.

"What do you make of him, has he always been that crazy?" Frank continued.

"No. The Martin that I knew was arrogant, but certainly not a total nut-case," he paused before continuing, "of course, Mark, Rob and Helen could tell you more, I’ve only known him for a few weeks. The fact that he uses an alias is interesting though, it’s a though he’s trying to hide something."

"I thought that too. Have you ever heard any rumors of him doing anything underhand or illegal?"

"I was warned to be careful if he should offer me anything for sale. Apparently, he specializes in stuff that’s ‘fallen off the backs of lorries’."

"This is a little more serious than simply re-selling illegally obtained merchandise," Frank remarked thoughtfully, "was he ever violent?"

"Other than on the battle field you mean?" Frank nodded. "Not that I know of."

There was a pause as Frank stood in quiet contemplation. "I think I know why Mike’s so keen to get the ring back..." he announced slowly and quietly, obviously still running the notion through in his mind.

The other two expectantly awaited his explanation, Joe finally pulling Frank’s wrist to try and hurry his thought processes along.

Frank dragged his brown eyes back into the present, losing that far-away look and he proceeded to explain his theory to the other two. "While I was searching the apartment, Mike received a couple of ‘friendly’ visitors who knocked on the door. When he didn’t answer they chose to kick it in rather than come back later."

"And you were in the flat at the time?" asked Kiwi, his eyes wide.

"Yeah - but I hid in a cupboard and sneaked passed them after they’d gone further into the building,"

Joe and Kiwi looked momentarily horrified.

"Anyway, that’s not important," he said dismissively before continuing, "when they initially came to the door, they shouted something like ’I hope you’ve got the ring for us’."

Kiwi glanced at Joe, "so, what you’re hypothesizing is that the reason he wants the ring back so desperately is because he’s being threatened by someone else?"

"Could be, but I must admit it sounds far-fetched, and why would they be threatening him anyway?"

Joe, who had been sitting on the table listening to the conversation jumped down and indicated for the two of them to follow him. He took them into the study and fired up the computer. Sitting down, he began to type:

"Why?" asked Frank, "Bramwell doesn’t seem to have been any help so far, other than getting hold of some equipment for us. In fact, he’s been getting in the way, destroying evidence and upsetting everyone."

"Explain…" asked Kiwi.

"He’s right you know," Kiwi agreed, moving back from the screen. "We’ve got to consider Helen’s safety. Mike will probably assume she’s still got the ring. She’s safe for the moment, because he doesn’t know where she is, but she may be back tomorrow." Kiwi threw Frank a knowing glance, "anyway, it’ll be easy to pin point Mike now, no matter where he goes, so the Police will easily catch up with him."

*?* asked Joe, confused.

Frank turned to Kiwi and grinned, "so, you managed to deliver yours too?" he asked.

"Course I did, why do you think the first arrow was so late in arriving? Hardly even had the time to aim first – did you plant yours?"

"Yep, threw it in the van along with the ring."

Frank and Kiwi delivered a high-five over Joe’s head.

*FOR GOD’S SAKE ????????????????????!!!!!!!!!!!* Joe jumped up and shook his brother by the shoulder roughly.

"Sorry Joe," Frank apologized, detaching himself and laughing, "Me and Kiwi planted homing devises on both the van and the car, so we can pick up their trail tomorrow." Consulting his watch, he was surprised to see it was 2.00 in the morning. "I’ll ring Kyle in the morning and tell him the good news, but right now we really need to get some sleep. Judging from our brilliant job of D.I.Y. on the back door, I don’t think we should leave the house unguarded - I’ll take the first watch."

Joe pursed his lips and thrust up two fingers as an indication that he should take the second watch.

Frank shook his head at him. "No way Joe - you’re more in need of a rest than us," replied his brother.

Joe sat and started tapping on the computer in protest, but his brother and friend where already leaving the room.