Frank finally received the third degree from Nancy the day before she returned to River Heights. He told her the whole story, leaving nothing out. When he told her that none of his family members were a close enough match for a transplant, she promised to have her friends back home tested. Joe had taken the news that he wasn’t a match very hard. He had actually cried when they got home and he and Frank had stayed up until the wee hours of the morning talking.

"Wouldn’t it be ironic of Ned were a match?" Joe remarked after Nancy left. Frank threw a sofa pillow at Joe and stuck his tongue out.

"I think it would be funny." Joe had then dodged another pillow on his way out of the room.

Later that week he pulled stakeout duty again. There had been a little while where they hadn’t been watching, but the boat traffic had picked back up again. I hate stake-outs! he thought for the millionth time as he drifted off to sleep.

By nine o’clock that night, Joe was in his usual place, waiting for something to happen. As he waited his thoughts wandered back to Frank. It was so strange working without his partner, Joe thought. But Frank had reached the point where it took all of his energy just to stay awake for more than four hours at a time. His thick brown hair was now completely gone and he stayed cold. Just the other day Joe had come home from a volleyball game to find Frank in sweats and wrapped in a blanket as he watched a movie with their sister.

So for the next two hours, Joe sat in the van. Since he didn’t have Frank to talk to, he found himself playing games as he grew increasingly bored. A few people came in and out, but no one that Joe found overly interesting. Until he spotted CJ Ericson.

Joe perked up instantly and decided to follow him inside. He crept silently out of the van and followed his quarry inside the warehouse. CJ went through a maze of boxes, then he stopped. Joe ducked down behind a stack of packing crates and peeked around them. CJ was standing in front of an angry looking man.

He looks like a fish! was Joe’s first thought. The man had bulging eyes, a tiny mouth that was working in and out and folds of skin under his chin. Joe wrinkled his nose in disgust. He probably smells like a fish too!

Joe could hear them talking in low tones, but was unable to make out what they were saying. Fish-Face didn’t sound too happy though. He crept closer until he could clearly hear them, then crouched down behind another stack of crates.

"You have let yourself get distracted, Ericson!" Fish-Face shouted.

CJ glared at Fish-Face. "I have every right to get distracted. They killed my brother!"

Joe smiled. CJ was in trouble for stalking Frank!

"I want you focused on your job here! I want this warehouse empty, do you understand?!" Fish-Face was turning red now. "I want you to stay away from the Hardys, Ericson. You have more important things to do than get revenge."

"Joe Hardy shot and killed my brother. I will make him pay for it."

"You can do whatever you want to them after you have fulfilled your obligation to the organization," Fish-Face conceded. "But if it hadn’t been for us, you’d be dead!"

CJ leaned into the face of the man in front of him and scowled. "I don’t owe you people anything. If it hadn’t been for your organization I never would have heard of the Hardys!"

Joe wished desperately Frank were there. He always had a plan, whereas Joe had no idea what he should do next. Should he jump CJ and Fish-Face? Nah, he thought. That’ll just make ‘em mad and I might get myself killed. Follow them? But which one? Nabbing Fish-Face would crack the case for his dad. But on the other hand, getting CJ would assure Frank’s safety.

Frank, how do you deal with this all the time? Joe silently asked his brother. As it turned out, Joe didn’t have to make a decision, for pain suddenly exploded in his head and the world went black.

Fish-Face glanced over at where the fleshly THUD had come from and saw one of his men standing there, a rifle in his hands. "What are you doing?"

"Caught us an intruder. He should be out for a while."

CJ went over and looked at the person, then smiled.

Sometime later Joe began to wake up. He tried to rub his eyes, but found his hands wouldn’t move. He blinked rapidly a few times to clear his vision, then took in his surroundings. He was still in the warehouse, only now he was tied tightly to a chair. There was a piece of duct tape over his mouth.

Then Joe heard voices behind him and he tensed. It was CJ and Fish-Face, still arguing. Fish-Face leaned down in Joe’s face. I was right, Joe thought. He does smell like a fish!

"CJ here tells me you’re Joe Hardy. That true?"

Joe didn’t move. Then he flinched as the duct tape was ripped off. "Is that true?" Fish-Face repeated. Joe just stared at the man. Then Joe felt a stinging blow to the side of his face and he pulled back. Still he said nothing. Fish-Face glowered at him for a minute, then left.

CJ flicked open a switchblade. "You’re too late, Hardy."

"And what does that mean?" Joe shot back, finally daring to open his mouth.

CJ twisted the blade around in his hands, making the light bounce off the shiny steel. "I know all about the surveillance your dad has set up on this place." He smiled as Joe’s brow furrowed in confusion.

"How?" Joe demanded.

"That’s for me to know, and you to find out. I also know that Frankie won’t be able to get you out of this little mess."

Joe knew exactly what CJ was implying. Frank was in the hospital receiving another round of chemotherapy. He was to be discharged the next day. "You leave Frank alone!"

At that, CJ laughed. "Make me, Joseph. You can’t even protect yourself from me. So we’ve rigged a few little surprises."

Warning bells went off in Joe’s head at the menacing tone. "Such as?"

CJ pulled up a crate and sat on it. "First off, there’s nothing left in this warehouse except you. Matter of fact, there never was anything in this warehouse!"

Joe’s eye narrowed. They’d been duped into watching a decoy!

"Second, I’m through playing around. Next time we meet, IF there is a next time for you, Frank will die.

If Joe hadn’t been tied up, he would have strangled the man sitting in front of him.

"We’ve also got a rather explosive surprise especially for you." CJ stood as Fish-Face walked back in, carrying a box. He set it on the floor next to the crate and in about 15 minutes he had a bomb assembled.

"You’re crazy!" Joe shouted.

Fish-Face slapped another piece of duct tape over Joe’s mouth. "Not crazy. Just a believer in extra insurance." He then bent down and set the timer. "You have two hours before this blows." He smiled evilly. "Enjoy!" He then waved at Joe and the two turned and left the now empty building.

Joe stared at the red display of the timer as it counted down. Tiny beads of sweat rolled down his face and stung his eyes. I have to get out here! he thought wildly.

He finally began working at the knots that bound his hands together. They were tight and well-tied. It took him an hour to get free. He had wasted half an hour staring at the timer, willing it to stop and he was now mentally kicking himself. There was now only 30 minutes left for him to find a way out.

Joe finally stood up and shook the ropes away. He pulled the tape off as he was hit with a wave of dizziness so strong he was forced to sit back down. He bent over and put his head between his knees for a few minutes, breathing deeply. When the dizziness passed, he slowly straightened up and saw another 5 minutes had passed. Joe grimaced as his hand went to the back of his head. He then winced in pain as his hand passed over the bump. "Ow."

He glanced at the timer. Twenty minutes left. "Alright, Hardy!" he told himself. "Quit fooling around and get out of here!" He looked around and spotted a window half-covered with plywood. He picked up a crowbar lying on the ground and began to pry the wood off. He kept glancing over his shoulder.

He finally ripped the last of the board off and looked around desperately for something to break the window with besides the crowbar. His eyes landed on the chair he’d been tied to. He grabbed the chair and glanced at the timer. Thirty seconds. Joe heaved the chair through the window and sent out a shower of shattered glass. He then dived out the window and rolled as he hit the ground. He scrambled to his feet and began to run.

Joe felt the explosion more than he heard it. The shockwave propelled him into the bay, where he stayed underwater and began to swim. When he surfaced, the night sky was lit up bright orange. Pieces of burning wood and debris floated on the surface of the water.

Joe swam to the closest dock and pulled himself out of the cold water. He shook the salt-water from his hair, then wrung his shirt out. He jogged over to the van for his cell-phone. He then leaned against the vehicle as he dialed 911. After reporting the fire, he called home.

A sleepy voice answered. "Hello."

"Dad, we have a problem."

"What?"

"The warehouse just blew up."

Fenton sat bolt upright in bed, waking Laura in the process. "Blew up? Are you OK?"

"Yeah. I’m a little wet though. I ended up taking an unplanned swim." Joe could hear the sirens of the firetrucks and police cruisers getting closer.

"I’ll be right there, Joe." With that Fenton hung up. Five minutes later he was on his way to the warehouse with some dry clothes for Joe at Laura’s insistence.

When he arrived at the warehouse, there were firefighters everywhere. Joe was wrapped in a blanket and sitting on one of the trucks. Fenton made his way over to his son and sat down beside him. "What happened?"

Joe gave Fenton a quick rundown of what had happened. When he finished, he looked up at his father, his blue eyes filled with fear. "Dad, Ericson was serious about killing Frank. Could we go to the hospital and check on him?"

Fenton pushed a lock of wet hair from Joe’s forehead, then wrapped his arms around him. "Of course we can." He hadn’t seen Joe this scared in ages. "After you give your statement to the police."

Joe nodded, then relaxed in his father’s arms. Con came over and took his statement, then promised to get Fenton a copy of the bomb report and the fire marshall report. Joe then changed into the dry clothes his father had brought him and they left the scene to check on Frank at the hospital.

It took some talking on Fenton’s part to get into Frank’s room, but they made it. Joe walked in quietly and looked at his brother.

Frank was sound asleep, his chest rising and falling in the rhythmic breathing of deep sleep. A dim lamp was turned on in the corner and Joe could see Frank’s face. He was pale, but he looked alright. Joe sighed with relief.

He then sat down in the chair next to the bed and gently touched Frank’s hand. Frank’s fingers closed around Joe’s, but he didn’t wake up. "Dad?" Joe whispered.

Fenton went to the bed. "What?"

"Can I stay here?" Joe looked at his father, a pleading look in his eyes.

Fenton couldn’t say no. "Of course you can. Your mother will bring your things in the morning. I’ll tell the nurses." Fenton squeezed Joe’s shoulder, then left the room, leaving the brothers alone.