After a ten-minute drive, Joe was at the boathouse. Biff was waiting for him. One look at the determined set of Joe’s face told him that Joe was in no mood to talk. They gassed up the sleek powerboat, and gave the engine a good going-over, then headed out into Barmet Bay.

"Do you have a plan, Joe?" Biff asked.

"That’s Frank’s department, remember? All I know is, no matter what it takes, I’m not leaving without him," Joe answered.

When they arrived at the sea entrance, Joe cut power and very carefully threaded his way through the reef. The last thing he wanted to do was rip the bottom out of the Sleuth. He then cut the power way back and let the waves carry the sleek craft into the pond.

Joe cut the engine completely, and tied up to the dock. He then surveyed the area. It hadn’t changed much since the last time they were in the Napoli looking for their father. The door was still well concealed with brush, but had been left open a crack so it was easy to find.

Joe made himself wait for half an hour, then he and Biff dis-embarked. Joe was carrying a backpack with flashlights, a blanket, and some water just in case.

"Does anybody know where we are?" Biff asked as they headed for the door.

"I left a note on the kitchen table." Joe glanced at his watch. "Dad should see it in about half an hour." He pulled out the flashlights and handed one to Biff, then pulled the door open.

Joe flashed his light around and was not surprised to see stacks of crates. Once again, the cave was being used for smuggling. Joe popped the lid off of one and was not surprised at what he found.

"What is it this time?" Biff asked. Even though he hadn’t been with Frank and Joe the first time they were in this cave, he’d heard all about.

"Guns." Joe closed the crate, then led the way to the door that led to the upper levels of the cave.

Everything about the cave was still familiar to him. Felix Snattman had never gotten to build his boys home. He had died of a heart attack in prison three months into his sentence. The house and grounds above them had once again fallen into disrepair, and was currently for sale.

For some strange reason, Joe found himself being drawn to the room where they’d found their father. He could not explain what was going on to anyone, not even himself. He just knew. It didn’t take him long to get there.

Joe glanced ad Biff who smiled re-assuringly. Joe shook his head. "It’s too quiet. Something’s not right."

"Don’t say that!" Biff groaned.

"Why not?"

"Because every time you do, I end up getting tied up."

Joe shrugged and placed his hand on the knob. As he expected, it was locked. He pulled his lockpick set out of his pocket and very quickly had the door unlocked. He put the set away, then slowly turned the knob. The door swung in, and he flashed his light around.

Frank was lying on his side on the floor, his arms behind his back.

Joe rushed to his brother and untied his hands, then felt his face. He was burning with fever. Joe lifted Frank in his arms and held him close. "Frank," he whispered.

Frank slowly opened his eyes and saw Joe’s worried face. "Joe." His voice was the faintest of whispers. He was shivering from cold, and pain. "He’ll be in here any minute."

"Who will?" Joe asked.

"I will," a voice said from the doorway. Joe looked to see CJ Ericson standing there. Joe’s blue eyes turned icy.

"I hope you realize how wonderful it is to have a brother, Joe. Because you don’t have much time left with yours." Ericson stepped back quickly and closed the door. Joe heard the lock click and footsteps receded.

Joe turned his attention back to Frank, who was now shivering almost uncontrollably. This role reversal was very alien and strange to Joe, and he wasn’t sure he liked it. "It’s OK, Frank. We’re going to get you out of here," he said softly. He looked up at Biff, who pulled the blanket out and handed it to Joe.

Frank let Joe wrap it around him. "How? It’s just the two of you." Frank looked at his brother, wondering what on earth had been going through his mind.

Joe recognized that look and smiled. It felt good to see it again. "I didn’t come in here planning to bust out with you. I know you can’t make it. Dad and the police will be here soon."

"And you know this how?"

"I left a note on the kitchen table that will have Dad jumping down Collig’s throat to send some men out here."

"Oh." Frank carefully and slowly shifted his position until he was as comfortable as he could be leaning against Joe, then let himself fall asleep. It was only thing he could do at the moment to fight the pain Joe still knew nothing about.

And true to Joe’s prediction, Fenton had "jumped down" Collig’s throat and convinced him that a search warrant and a SWAT team were necessary. After spending a little over 3 hours getting the warrant, then convincing the real estate agent, they were on their way.

Fenton was on pins and needles as they drove. He couldn’t help thinking about Joe’s dream. And praying that it wouldn’t come true.

Then Fenton saw the house. It looked deserted. Fenton got out of car and went inside. He went straight to the hidden entrance and pulled the door open. Just as he was about to step through, Con placed a hand on his arm. "Let one of the SWAT officers go first. We have no idea what’s down there."

Fenton stepped back and let the SWAT team go first. Even though he was anxious to get to Frank, he knew Con was right.

CJ looked up from the money he was counting as someone burst into the room. "There’s cops coming!" the guy shouted.

CJ slammed his hand down on the table, letting loose a few choice words, then jumped up and ran to the room where he had the Hardys locked up. Joe and Biff were taken completely by surprise, and CJ jerked Frank up, holding a pistol to his head.

Joe started to stand up, then froze as the pistol cocked. "Say goodbye to Frankie, Joe," CJ hissed.

Frank could see that Joe’s anger had reached the boiling point. "Joe, I’ll be fine. Stay put!" he ordered with as much strength as he could muster.

"But, Frank-" Joe stopped as the door slammed shut and was once again locked. He went to the door and slammed his fist into it, then slid down to the floor. "We HAVE to get out of here!" he told Biff.

Biff walked over to the door and inspected the knob. He then pulled out his pocketknife and flipped the screwdriver blade out.

"What are you doing?" Joe asked.

"Taking the doorknob off."

"Why didn’t I think of that?" Joe mentally kicked himself, the started to help.

Frank was taken downstairs to the storeroom and tied to a chair. He watched silently as CJ’s gang loaded up their goods. Frank wondered how close his father and the cops actually were. They must not have gotten to the grounds of the house yet if the gang was taking the time to pack their goods up.

Over the last couple of days, Frank had learned that CJ was skimming weapons from his boss Rawlins. Or as Joe had dubbed him, Fish-Face. CJ had been at it for almost a year now. In fact, it had been the elder Ericson’s idea.

Frank began to work on the knots holding him prisoner, but found out quickly that he was too weak to make much progress, even though his hands were tied in front of him. Unbidden, he though of Callie. If I make it out of here, he though, I’m apologizing to her.

Then he saw CJ walking towards him. "I haven’t quite made up my mind what I’m going to do to you yet," CJ remarked. Frank just looked at him. "I am leaning towards just shooting you and leaving your body here for your precious brother to find."

Frank finally spoke up. His voice was weak and betrayed exactly how badly he felt, but it was strong with conviction. "If you kill me, Joe will hunt you down. You won’t be able to hide. Anywhere you go, he will follow you."

CJ smiled his evil smile that sent a cold chill down Frank’s spine. "I know."

Joe kicked the door open and ran out into the hall, straight into another person. He went into defense mode before he realized it was his father.

"Joe," Fenton grabbed his arm. "Where’s Frank?"

Joe instantly relaxed. "I don’t know. Ericson came and got him about half an hour ago." Joe then saw the police officers behind his father. "Dad, he’s got tons of illegal weapons down there. I popped one of the crates open."

Fenton glanced back at Con. "We have a warrant to arrest him, Joe," Con assured. "He’s not getting away. Take us down there."

Joe nodded, then silently led the way down the stairs. The door into the huge room was open, and they could hear voices. One by one they all slipped inside. Joe fixed his gaze on Frank and began to slowly work his way towards him.

Frank raised his eyes and saw Joe smiling at him. Frank smiled back faintly, then inclined his head ever so slightly in Ericson’s direction. Joe nodded and flashed a ‘thumbs up’. Frank then glanced around discreetly and saw his father dart behind a stack of crates. He also caught a brief glimpse of what looked like a SWAT officer, and he finally let himself relax completely. He would be safe shortly, and the pain would go away.

Then he heard a shout, and Fenton appeared, prostrate on the floor. The rope holding Frank to the chair fell away, and Ericson jerked him up. An arm encircled his throat and Frank began gasping for breath. Then he felt the unmistakable chill of a gun barrel press against the side of his head.

"If anyone tries to stop me, I’ll blow Frankie’s head off!" Ericson shouted.

Frank saw the cops freeze. Ericson then nudged him towards the pond.

Joe clenched his fists and stepped out, blocking Ericson’s way. "Let him go."

Frank heard the icy anger in his brother’s voice, and saw his blue eyes flash.

"You’re a fool, Joseph Hardy!" Ericson spat out.

"No," Joe shot back. "You are. No one messes with my brother and gets away with it!" He took a step forward.

Frank felt the pressure on his throat increase. But at the same time the gun wavered. Frank gathered his strength and let go of the arm around his throat, then jammed his elbow into Ericson’s stomach. The arm choking him disappeared and Frank spun around, kicking Ericson’s legs out from under him.

Ericson toppled to the ground and the gun flew from his grasp. Joe dove for it and the SWAT team went into action rounding up the other men. Frank saw Ericson attack Joe and the two grappled for the gun. Not again! he thought. Frank then felt himself sway, then he slowly crumpled to the ground as blackness engulfed him.

Joe saw Frank hit the ground and threw a hard, fast right at Ericson’s jaw. Ericson staggered back from the force of the blow and Joe snatched the gun up, pointing it at Ericson. He was completely unaware that the rest of the gang had been subdued. All he knew was that Ericson had probably just cost Frank his life.

Joe’s finger wrapped around the trigger. Faintly he heard his father shout, "Joe, don’t!" Then Joe heard Frank’s voice in his head. It was something that Frank had told him many times since Iola’s death. "Revenge is never worth it, Joe. Remember that if anything ever happens to me."

Joe flicked the safety on and lowered the pistol. "I’m not going to be like you." He handed the pistol to Con, who slapped cuffs on Ericson and began to read him his rights.

Joe ran to Frank, who was now untied and being cradled in their dad’s arms. He could see the rope burns, and the bruise forming on Frank’s throat. Joe took his brother’s hand and squeezed it. Frank’s eyes fluttered opened and he smiled at Joe.

"I remembered," Joe whispered.

"Good. I knew you wouldn’t let me down." Frank managed to squeeze back, then his eyes closed as his body shuddered.

Joe looked at his father in alarm. "Dad, how are we going to get him out of here?"

"Very carefully," Fenton answered. Frank shuddered again, then coughed briefly.

Joe could feel panic rising up in him. He just knew Frank was dying. He heard Con say something about an ambulance waiting for them.

"Joe?"

Joe looked up from Frank’s pale face into his father’s worried face. "What?"

"Do you think you can carry him?"

Joe nodded. "Yes." He then glanced over his shoulder toward the pond. "What about the Sleuth?"

"Biff’s going to take it back to the boathouse."

Joe nodded again, then carefully stood up with Frank in his arms. He’d lost weight, and Joe was slightly shocked at how light he was. "Stay with me here, Frank," he whispered.

"I’m trying, bro," Frank answered.

Slowly, Joe carried his brother up the stairs as tears stung the back of his eyes. But he willed them away. Frank’s breathing was labored and growing raspy. When Joe stepped out into the bedroom, a stretcher was waiting. Joe gently laid Frank down and started to step back, but Frank grabbed his hand.

"Stay with me, Joe," he begged softly.

Joe nodded. "OK. I’m not going anywhere."

The brothers held tightly to each other’s hand all the way to the hospital. Dr. Sanders had been called and was waiting for them. He decided to let Joe stay when he saw the tight grip Frank had on his hand.

"Do you want to tell him, Joe?" Dr. Sanders asked.

Joe smiled. In the rush to find Frank, he had completely forgotten! He bent over next to Frank’s ear. "Frank, they found a donor for the transplant. You’re going to be OK. Just hang in there."

Frank managed to open his eyes. "Really?"

Joe nodded, smiling. "Really. Just hang in there, OK?"