Joe’s words seemed to reverberate in Mr. Hardy’s quiet study. Fenton and Frank exchanged glances, and Jack Wayne blinked in astonishment.

"Someone else?" he repeated. "Who else is there?"

"An unknown – the "X" factor." Fenton said quietly. "Someone who had access to the plane before takeoff. It could be someone who works for you, Jack, or someone who works for another of the charter services that use the same building, or another building nearby."

"But no one went into the plane after I put the coke in," Jack protested. "I would remember seeing someone, I’m sure."

"You were on the phone," Frank reminded him. "There was a span of time when you were in your office, and April hadn’t yet decided to take your plane."

"I suppose it could have happened then," Jack admitted. "But – but who?"

"That’s what we’re going to find out!" Joe assured him briskly. "And I think I know just the way to do it!" He grinned over at Frank. "You are gonna love this, big brother!"

"Oh, I’ll bet." Frank said dryly. "Okay, let’s hear it."

"Jack, you admit you’re going to need a substitute pilot for a little while, don’t you? While April’s not able to fly?" Jack nodded, and Joe continued, his blue eyes sparkling. "Well, Frank’s a licensed pilot, and just yesterday he was saying how much he’d like to take one of your babies up. Why don’t you have him take over April’s flights for a few days? It’s an undercover job that’s tailor-made for him…he keeps an eye on the people, who work for you, and he also gets to fly!"

Frank couldn’t restrain a grin of anticipation; he’d rarely heard Joe propose a plan he liked so much. "I think that would be great!" he exclaimed. Then his face fell. "But Joe, Jack is down to one plane, remember?"

Jack held up a forestalling hand. "But I was going to have to borrow or lease a plane to replace it," he said. "I can’t make do with only one plane. The insurance company will provide the money to lease one while the claims are processed and a new one purchased. I would have had to hire another pilot to take April’s place; Joe’s right about that. It might as well be you, Frank, if you’d like to do it." He thought for a moment. "I think I’ll talk to Linda – that’s Jesse’s widow. She might be willing to let me rent Jesse’s plane…and she could use the money." He tilted an inquiring eyebrow in Frank’s direction. "Want to do it, Frank?"

"Do I? Try and stop me!" Frank exulted. "This is great, Jack!" He exchanged a triumphant high-five with Joe

"There’s another part of it, remember." Fenton cleared his throat significantly. "Deke and Ernie – I’ll never be able to think of those two names separately again, I’m afraid! – still think Jack swindled them out of their cocaine. He’s still in danger – and April’s still in danger, too."

The boys sobered. "I can keep an eye on Jack, when I’m at the hangar." Frank offered.

"And April has just acquired a full-time bodyguard," Joe chimed in. "I won’t let anything happen to her, Jack." he assured her anxious-eyed brother.

"I know you’ll do your best, Joe." Jack replied…but the anxiety didn’t leave his eyes.

*****

Late that night, after Megan and Vanessa had departed for their respective homes, and Jack had bid his little sister goodnight and gone back to their house alone, Joe Hardy lay awake, thinking over the events of the day. He felt as if his emotions had been on a Ferris wheel, with the rapid changes in his opinion of Jack Wayne; but he was finally content, secure in the knowledge that Jack had not let them down, after all.

Joe smiled to himself, remembering April’s slow descent of the stairs when she came down for dinner, with Vanessa and Megan in attendance. The older girls had fixed her hair, and helped her change her clothes, and her hazel eyes were sparkling with shy delight. Although he was still a bit disconcerted that April’s gaze seemed to follow him a great deal of the time, Joe was happy to see her looking so much improved. Laura had fixed a casserole for dinner that didn’t require any cutting, and April had managed to eat with her left hand, albeit slowly.

Cute kid…he mused. He yawned and turned on his side, preparing to let himself slide into sleep – and stopped, hearing what sounded like a soft whimper. He lifted his head from the pillow and listened. Frank having one of those nightmares? But it wasn’t Frank; Joe could hear his brother’s soft snores through the open doors of the bathroom which connected their bedrooms. Maybe I imagined it…No, there it is again.

Realizing where the sound was coming from, Joe slipped from his bed and quickly pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a shirt that were tossed over a chair. He went into the hall and tapped lightly on the door to the guest room.

"April?" he whispered, not wanting to wake either Frank or his parents. "April, it’s Joe. Are you okay?"

Another sob reached his ears. Joe put his hand on the doorknob.

"April, is it okay if I come in?"

"Y-yes," came the soft answer. Joe opened the door and went in, a little surprised to find the room softly lit by the bedside table lamp. April was propped in bed on several pillows, her broken arm supported by yet another. Her face was turned into a pillow, and tears were evident on her cheeks.

"I heard you crying," Joe said with concern. "Is your arm hurting you? Or does something else hurt?"

"Not – exactly." April sniffed, and swiped at her eyes. "It’s more – I can’t sleep, that’s all."

"Strange house?" Joe smiled. "I know it’s hard to fall asleep when you’re not used to a place."

She shook her head. "I’m – too upset – and mad," she admitted. "I’m still mad at Jack for getting mixed up in a drug deal. And I’m hurt because I know he thinks I’m not a good enough pilot to fly for him any more. I crashed the plane; he’ll never trust me to fly for him again. And – and I’m afraid. Jack’s going to go to prison, isn’t he, Joe?"

Joe realized with a start that so far as April knew, Jack was involved in running drugs with Ernie and Deke. No one had told her any differently; they had not shared Jack’s story with Laura or the girls. He sat down beside her, on the edge of the bed.

"I don’t think Jack wanted you to know all of this," he began. "but I believe you deserve to be told." Quietly, he related the story that Jack had told them earlier, explaining what he had decided after Jesse Robertson’s death, and the things he had done. Joe was careful to omit the part about Jack’s tampering with the oil line, however; if Jack wanted April to ever know that, he’d have to tell her himself.

When he reached the conclusion, Joe smiled at April. "Still mad?"

"Yes and no," she replied. "I’m really, really glad he’s not running drugs – and I can see why he wanted to avenge Jesse’s death – but Joe, why didn’t he trust me in the first place?!"

Joe thought fast. "He does trust you, April. He was just trying to protect you. After all, you are only 16 – and you’re his baby sister!"

April bristled. "Baby sister, baby sister," she snapped. "That’s all I hear, ‘baby sister.’ I’m not a baby!"

"Hey, chill out…Frank does the same thing to me." Joe told her. "And he sure doesn’t have that ten-year age gap that Jack does over you!" He thought about it for a moment. "They can’t help it; they just feel protective, even if we don’t need or want it. And I don’t think it ever changes. Frank will probably still be calling me ‘baby brother,’ and trying to look out for me, when we’re both in our 40’s!"

April giggled at his comment. "I suppose so," she admitted. "But I’m tired of him treating me like I’m too young and stupid to be trusted."

"Hey—" Joe put a finger under her chin and made her look at him. "Jack trusts you enough to pilot for him, and that’s a lot of trust. But remember, he’s responsible for you, since your dad died. He was just trying to keep you from being hurt."

She dropped her gaze. "I guess you’re right…I know you’re right."

"Think you can sleep now?" Joe stood up. "Can I get you anything? Pain pills, drink of water, anything like that?"

"No thanks, Joe. I’m fine." She smiled wearily. "I am getting sleepy, I guess."

"Good. I’ll see you in the morning, then." Joe switched off the bedside lamp and left the room, carefully shutting the door. Behind him, April closed her eyes, a dreamy smile curving her mouth upward as she drifted off to sleep.

*****

Frank was up early the next morning, anxious to be on his way to his new job. Although Jack wasn’t expecting him until eight o’clock, Frank was ready to leave by seven, and had to force himself to sit quietly reading the morning paper and making conversation with his parents. Neither Joe nor April had made an appearance at this early hour.

"You’re really looking forward to this, aren’t you?" Fenton asked, as he saw Frank look at the clock for the fifth time in ten minutes.

"I really am," Frank admitted with a grin. "I want to help Jack with the drug sting, of course – but I want to fly again, too!"

Finally seven-thirty arrived, and Frank felt he could leave for the airfield without appearing too overeager. When he pulled the van into the parking lot, he felt as if bubbles of anticipation were rising in his throat. He walked quickly into the hangar, looking around for Jack. There was no sign of the young pilot, but two other men were working, stacking cartons and checking invoices. They both wore coveralls with the scripted Wayne’s World logo sewn on a pocket.

One of the men was tall and lanky, and quite young; perhaps a year or so older than Frank himself. He had wavy dark hair, cut quite short, and dark eyes. He looked up from his work and grinned as the Hardy boy walked over to him.

"Hi there! You must be Frank, right? Jack called and told us you were coming in today." He held out his hand. "I’m Jason Montgomery. I do maintenance, and cargo handling, and cleanup, and – and anything else I’m told to do!"

"Do you pilot?" Frank asked, returning the cordial handclasp.

Jason shook his head. "No – not me! I like planes when they’re on the ground!" They laughed together.

The second man approached now. Frank noted that he was older, probably in his late 30’s or early 40’s, and of medium height, about 5’10". He had pale blonde hair, and his eyes were a light blue shade that reminded Frank of a Weimaraner’s. He too extended his hand to the Hardy boy.

"Hello there. I’m Roger Taylor. I’m in charge of cargo here…and I do occasional maintenance and engine repair." Roger Taylor smiled thinly.

"Nice to meet you." Frank said, and returned the smile, but he thought: Somehow, I don’t feel like I’d want Mr. Taylor hovering over my shoulder! He gave himself a mental shake. What did you tell Joe? Don’t make snap judgments!

"Jack said he taught you to fly?" Jason asked eagerly.

"That’s right." Frank nodded. Before he could continue the conversation, the sound of quick footsteps made all three of them turn towards the entrance again. Jack Wayne strode in, whistling.

"Morning, guys! You ready for this, Frank?" he inquired, laughing when Frank nodded enthusiastically. "Is the plane loaded, Roger? I want to go up with Frank and make sure he hasn’t forgotten everything I ever taught him."

"It’s ready to go," the older man replied. "Gassed up and all the cargo’s on and secured."

"Great!" Jack clapped Frank on the back. "Let’s go; no time like the present!"

Frank and Jack climbed aboard, Frank settling into the pilot’s seat and Jack taking the copilot’s. "Pretend I’m not here," Jack instructed, "and just do everything like you’re on your own…unless you have a question, that is."

Frank took a deep breath and let it out. Do it right, Hardy! He started the engines, and began checking the various switches, dials and controls. Jack watched silently, a slight smile on his tanned face. After a few tense minutes, Frank began to relax; things were coming easily, and he realized he knew exactly what he was doing. He glanced over at Jack. "Ready."

Jack gestured toward the radio. "Go ahead."

Frank contacted the tower announcing his imminent departure, and was told which runway he should use. He let up on the brakes and gave the plane some gas, and the little craft moved smoothly along the tarmac. When they reached the end of the runway, he again spoke to the tower, and received the eagerly-anticipated "cleared for takeoff" announcement.

Taxi down the runway…build up the speed…pull back on the yoke – now! As if Frank’s thoughts had been spoken instructions and the little plane an intelligent being, it gave a smooth leap into the air, and the ground fell away from beneath them. Frank couldn’t restrain a triumphant grin, and he heard Jack’s indulgent chuckle and quiet "nice one" to his right.

Once cruising at one thousand feet and cleared from radio contact with the Bayport tower, Frank glanced over at his former instructor. "What do you want me to do now?"

"Just do a few banks and turns, just the general stuff," Jack replied. "Get used to flying again…and remember, this critter is larger than the one you used to fly, and you’ll have a lot of weight sometimes, with cargo."

Frank obeyed, reminding himself yet again that he would be flying cargo runs, not playing. He concentrated on doing each turn and bank, dive and climb, with the greatest precision. After a few more minutes, however, Jack spoke again.

"You’re doing great, Frank; just relax. You’re not trying for your pilot’s license again, you know! This is just a refresher!"

"I know." But I want to do it perfectly! was his mental addition. "I met your cargo handlers, Jason and Roger." he commented, changing the subject abruptly.

"Ummm. Yes, Jason and Roger." Jack nodded. "Any first impressions?"

Frank shook his head. "Jason is a nice kid. Roger is – I’m sure he’s great, but he seems sort of – I don’t know, repressive, I guess. That sounds stupid, I know—"

Jack began to laugh. "Your instincts are better than I thought!" he said. "Roger isn’t a cargo handler by trade, Frank. He’s a DEA agent, working undercover!"

"What?" Frank was so startled he nearly let the plane drop into a dive.

"When this whole mess started, after Jesse was killed, the DEA sent him in, to keep an eye on things at the airfield in general, and Wayne’s World in particular. Jason doesn’t know that Roger’s anything other than the guy who handles paperwork, plus an occasional repair job, or helping load cargo. April doesn’t either. I know – and your dad knows – and now you do."

Frank leveled the plane out and banked into a turn, heading back toward the airport. "I didn’t think about that…the DEA, I mean. No wonder he struck me as being a little ‘off,’ if he’s an agent."

Jack chuckled. "Ever think that might be true of you and Joe, too?" Frank shot him a surprised stare, then reluctantly grinned.

When they hit a pocket of warm air that pushed the little plane upwards with a jolt, Jack began to laugh reminiscently. "Do those bother you, Frank?" he asked, as the boy guided them back to a level position again.

"No, not usually. Joe hates turbulence, though – makes him sick."

Jack laughed harder. "Oh, don’t I know it! Frank, don’t ever tell Joe I did this – but when I was attempting to teach your brother to fly, I made him upchuck more than once – by making the plane feel like it was hitting really rough turbulence."

"What?" Frank didn’t know whether to laugh or be annoyed on Joe’s behalf. "That was kind of mean, Jack!"

"I didn’t do it a whole lot, just a couple of times, when he wasn’t paying close enough attention to something I was trying to teach him. Just enough to wake him up a little…"

"You did that on purpose—" Frank marveled. "And here I thought he was just unfortunate enough to hit turbulence when he was flying…I remember, he came down from a couple of flights looking totally green." He paused. "Can you teach me to do it?" he asked with a wicked grin.

Jack smiled conspiratorially. "Some day, Frank…some day."

Too soon for Frank, they were approaching the runways again. He radioed the tower for landing clearance, located the indicated runway, and brought the little cargo plane down in a smooth, fast landing – Yes! – that had Jack grinning and giving him a thumbs-up as he taxied back to the Wayne’s World hangar. When Frank switched the engine off, he turned to his former instructor and smiled hopefully.

"Did I pass?" he asked. Although he was sure he had done well, Frank still felt butterflies in his stomach as he waited for Jack’s reply.

Jack’s grin widened. "To make a really bad joke – with flying colors!" he chuckled. "Congratulations and welcome to Wayne’s World, Frank! You can make the cargo run as soon as you’ve had a chance to catch your breath."

Jack was right, Frank noted as he climbed out of the plane. He needed a chance to catch his breath; he was nearly panting with a combination of exhilaration and nerves. He happily accepted Jason’s and Roger’s congratulations, and went inside to get a drink of water. While he was there, he heard the telephone ring, then Jack’s voice answering it.

A few minutes later, Jack emerged from his office, smiling broadly. "I just got a call from the NTSB investigator!" he announced. Frank nodded, waiting for Jack to continue. He knew NTSB stood for the National Transportation Safety Board, an agency that investigated the causes of airplane crashes. "According to preliminary investigation, the cause of April’s crash was mechanical fault, not pilot error."

Frank couldn’t help snorting with laughter at this. "You knew that already, Jack," he murmured to his friend.

"I know, I know!" Jack responded. "But April will be glad to hear it from the official investigators. She’s been so worried that I thought it was her fault the plane crashed; that I didn’t want her to fly for me anymore. Silly, but there it is."

"She cares more about what you think than what the NTSB or the FAA thinks!" Frank stated firmly. "She looks up to you, and she hates to think you considered her a failure as a pilot."

Jack nodded ruefully. "I know. I just couldn’t tell her that I knew she didn’t do anything wrong, without admitting – well, you know." he murmured. He leaned against the nearest wall, folding his arms across his chest. "Ever get tired of being a big brother, Frank?" he asked.

Frank’s lips twitched. "Well, sometimes maybe. You?"

"April always looks at me like I should have all the answers," Jack lamented. "and then she gets so upset when I don’t. She’s got this image in her squirrelly little brain, of the perfect older brother – and there’s no way I can live up to it. She never wants to listen to any advice, though, I notice."

"I know what you mean." Frank agreed, grateful for the chance to share his "big brother" woes with a comrade. "Joe’s been rushing in without looking ahead for nearly 18 years now, and I’ve had to rush after him to try and keep him out of trouble all that time. Sometimes I get tired of being the perfect role model. Joe expects me to be calm and rational in an emergency." He grinned reminiscently. "That doesn’t always work anymore, though….I can’t keep my cool if anything happens to Megan. Joe finds that hard to handle sometimes. He can’t look to me for guidance because I’m too busy going out of my mind about her."

Jack chuckled. "Younger siblings – they drive you nuts, but you can’t imagine living without them, either….You ready to make your first cargo run?" He laughed at Frank’s enthusiastic response. "Okay, hotshot, let’s get you into the air!"

*****

That evening, the normally reserved Frank was bubbling with excitement over his day at Wayne’s World; so much so that his family teased him at the dinner table. April joined in on the fun, intimating that she was worried Frank was about to steal her job from her. She was slightly envious of him; after all, those afternoon runs had been hers.

"There you are, older and a guy at that!" she mock-pouted. "Jack would much rather have you fly for him. By the time my arm and ribs heal, you’ll be so entrenched there that I won’t have a chance!" She winked at Joe, as Frank’s mouth dropped open in consternation, then continued in a sad tone. "I’ll have to go apply at one of the other services, I guess…."

"April, you know that’s not true! – oh, you little brat, you’re kidding!" Frank heaved an exasperated sigh. "As if having Joe around wasn’t bad enough. You’re ganging up on me!"

"I want to do something tomorrow," April announced, as they began eating their dessert of warm gingerbread with whipped cream. "mmmm, Mrs. Hardy, this is so good!…. Anyway, I’d like to get my car from the lot at the airfield. Would that be possible?" She glanced from Frank to Joe, inquiringly.

Joe shrugged. "Why not? Although you can’t drive it, you know; not with your arm in that cast and sling."

She sighed, downcast. "I know. But I don’t want it parked there in the lot much longer; I’m afraid someone might decide to start stripping it for parts, or something."

"Why don’t you just drive it home after work tomorrow, Frank?" Joe suggested. "That would be the easiest thing to do."

"Well, sure Joe – I could drive it home, but then someone would have to take me to work. Do I hear you volunteering to get up at 6:00 to get me there?"

"Six o’clock!" Joe spluttered, nearly choking on his gingerbread. "You don’t have to be there until eight! Why would I have to get up at six?"

"I want to be there early." Frank replied coolly.

Joe shuddered dramatically. "Let’s find another plan," he hastily suggested. "How about if you take the van to work, and someone else drops me off later, and I can drive April’s car back here."

Fenton cleared his throat meaningfully, and when Joe looked at him, the detective glanced at April, whose head was bent over her plate as she concentrated on managing to eat with her left hand. Joe got the message: you need to stay with April, remember?

"Or – April and I could go together," Joe amended, almost without a break. "Want to do that, April?"

She looked up and smiled happily at him. "I’d like that a lot, Joe."

"I’ll call Jack after dinner, and tell him what’s going on; he was going to pick me up for work so that you could have the van, Joe. I’ll tell him that you and April are going to get her car later, and I’ll just drive the van to work." Frank volunteered. "Now the only question is, who gets to take April and Joe over to the airfield?" He looked at his mother, who smiled and shrugged; Laura would do it if she had to, but she was going to wait and see if her sons came up with a better plan.

"I think I have that covered," Joe grinned. "I’ll call Vanessa, and ask if she’ll pick us up. She said something about meeting Megan for lunch; she can drop us on her way."

Some of the happiness dimmed from April’s face. She dropped her eyes back to her plate, and concentrated once more on her gingerbread. Always…always just the little sister….

*****

Later that evening, in a hotel near the airport, two men sat at a table, deep in discussion. Both were irritable and frustrated; things had not been going well for Deke and Ernie lately.

"…we nearly drowned him, Ernie, and he still didn’t tell us what he did with the actual coke!" Burly Deke slapped the table in disgust.

"We should have drowned him," Ernie growled. "I don’t know how he did it, but that slimeball managed to switch the real stuff for baby powder. Baby powder, can you believe it?" He picked up his cigar from the ashtray on the table and put it in his mouth.

"Good thing you decided to check it out," Deke mumbled, almost too low for Ernie’s ears. Secretly, he had been appalled at the other man’s temerity in opening up the heavily wrapped and sealed brick, but now he was glad Ernie had dared to do so.

"Maybe we’re threatening Jack Wayne the wrong way." Ernie’s dark beady eyes gleamed as a new thought occurred to him. "If we can’t find out what he did with the drugs – or make him give them up to us, if he still has them – maybe he should lose something that’s important to him."

"Like what?" Deke asked. "Blow up his other plane, or something?"

"Well, that’s not too bad an idea," Ernie conceded. "But that wasn’t what I was thinking of. I had something even more precious in mind."

Deke frowned, puzzled, and Ernie wondered for a moment just how much brain power the big man actually possessed. "His sister, you idiot! The cute kid at the hospital! The one you locked in the closet!"

"Aw, Ernie, do we have to kill her? She’s such a cute little thing…"

"I don’t care if she’s Shirley Temple! We’ve coddled Jack Wayne for long enough. It’s time to play rough."