The boys could see the feet of the approaching men and knew that they would never make it out the door in time, especially as Joe was injured. "Sorry for dragging you into this" Joe whispered to Frank through gritted teeth.

"Hey, I was doing nothing important" Frank managed a wry smile. "I’d gotten bored of going surfing on my own!" "How’s your arm" he added, his face clouding over suddenly with concern.

Frank shifted a little so that he could get a better look at Joe’s wound. The bullet had hit him on the back part of his upper left arm, just below the shoulder. The tourniquet seemed to have stemmed the worst of the bleeding but there was a nasty wound.

"It hurts like hell" was Joe’s reply, "But I’ll live, as long as we get out of here that is."

At that moment another shot rang out from a different part of the casino and a man’s voice shouted "Drop your guns!" Frank and Joe recognized the voice as belonging to Jim Rogers.

At least eight security guards were surrounding the men trying to kill Frank and Joe. The men turned their attention from the two brothers and they took up a defensive stance facing the security guards.

This was the opportunity that Frank had been waiting for. Frank linked one arms through Joe’s uninjured one, and holding their breath the pair made a dash for the side door and crashed through it onto the ground.

Joe hissed in pain as his injured arm made contact with the concrete outside the casino. Frank, however, was on his feet in a flash and helped his brother off the ground. As they picked themselves up and started to run they could hear gun shots from inside the casino.

The two boys ran as hard as they could around the side of the building and across a grassy area until they reached the main street. Frank frantically waved down passing taxis, and eventually one pulled up.

"Where to?", the driver asked, looked nervously at the two by mow, much disheveled Hardy’s, one of whom was holding one arm against what looked to be a bullet wound? Joe gave the driver the motel address and he pulled away from the curb.

"We’re going to have to get out of the motel quick" began Joe, looking at Frank. "Those men may well get away from the security guards, in which case they are going to come after us. Besides, now that we know where Frazer is, we can’t waste anymore time here.

"Joe, we need to get your arm seen to, you can’t play super-avenger with a bullet wound you know! Frank was half angry and half amused at his younger brother’s attitude. The old Joe Hardy was never far from the surface, always ready to charge off and find the bad guys, no matter how much the danger.

"My arm is fine Frank…"began Joe but he was interrupted. "Your arm has a rather large hole in it Joe; I’d hardly call that fine. Now will you for once listen to me, and let me at least call a doctor at the motel."

Joe reluctantly acquiesced and leaned back against the car seat, his head against the head rest, and his eyes closed. Frank looked at him and sighed quietly. ‘What have you gotten yourself into, Joe’ he thought to himself. ‘And what are you getting me into? I just hope my older brother radar doesn’t let me down anymore.’

Soon the taxi pulled up at the motel, Frank paid and the two went into Joe’s room. Frank called reception and asked them to phone a doctor, then he busied himself packing his and Joe’s few things while Joe lay down on the bed, his arm evidently causing him more pain then he was going to admit.

As Frank gathered up the papers that had lain on the spare bed in the room, he suddenly stopped. Until now, he hadn’t taken much notice of them. Most of them were photos, court reports, statements, and files relating to Arnold Frazer. One file however was dated only five months previously, and had to relate to the night that Vanessa had nearly died, the night she had lost the baby.

Looking around to make sure his brother was asleep; Frank sat down and began reading the statements that he, Joe and Vanessa had given the police that night. Frank started to re-read his own statement. He had been in such shock that night that he barely remembered what he had said.

‘Why did I pick him,’ he asked himself again, looking over at Joe, now almost asleep on the bed. Even as the thought went though his mind he suddenly realized that he knew the answer.

He had picked Joe because he knew that he couldn’t ever be happy if Joe were to die. That was the simple truth. Frank knew, deep down, that he was one half of a whole, and Joe was the other half.

If you cut a plant at the stem, eventually that plant will fade away and wither, it needs roots in order to thrive. In some strange way, Joe was that root. That was why Frank had chosen him.

He shook himself, and shoved the papers back into the file as he heard a knock on the door. "Joe" Frank went over and shook his brother on the shoulder. "The doctor is here"

***

The sun was just starting to disappear as Frank guided their newly rented station wagon across the Nevada desert towards the Grand Canyon.

Joe, sulking slightly because he hadn’t been allowed to drive, was sitting in the passenger seat of the car, his arm in a bandage, a sling around his shoulder.

Frank looked into the back seat of the car at the shot-gun lying there. Joe had produced it from under the mattress in the motel room and insisted on bringing it; no matter how much Frank had pleaded and then argued with him. Frank hated the sight of the thing.

They had driven in total silence for the past hour. Joe was fiddling with radio, changing the station every two minutes, and Frank was beginning to get more than a little irritated.

"Joe, will you just leave the radio alone, PLEASE!" he finally burst out. Immediately he regretted his tone of voice as Joe looked him, a startled expression on his face. "Sorry," he muttered

Again there was silence.

"How’s the arm?" Frank finally asked.

"Ok… better" came Joes reply.

"Have you any idea what or where to begin looking for Frazer once we get here?" Frank continued. "The Grand Canyon is an awfully big place. I’m getting a needle and haystack feeling."

"You’re the brains of the outfit, aren’t you?" Joe shot back to him sarcastically.

Frank but his lip, ‘Now’s definitely not the time for an argument’ he thought to himself.

Out loud he said "I thought we’d go to the Ranger’s office and see if he can tell us the location of any cabins close to the canyon edge."

Joe simply nodded.

Frank felt his blood start to boil. He pulled the car over to the edge of the road suddenly, and sent stones flying in every direction.

"Look Joe, we need to talk now!" "I know you’re angry with me over Vanessa but this isn’t the time or the place. We need to find Frazer, for my sakes as much as yours. I have just as much reason to hate him, Joe, he kidnapped my girlfriend, remember?"

Joe listened in stunned silence. "Frank" he finally managed to say. "This is not about me being angry with you, I mean, its not just about me being angry with you. Mainly it’s about Vanessa, well ,me and Vanessa to be exact.

"What do you mean?" asked Frank

"I mean that I thought that by coming out here and finding Frazer, that things would be ok between us again, that they would go back to the way they were. And I just can’t stop thinking about it"

Frank put his hand on Joe’s shoulder. "Look Joe, things are never going to be exactly the same between you too. Vanessa lost a baby, and it has to affect her, and you."

Joe put his head in his hands. "Frank, it was awful. Vanessa cried nearly all the time for the first week, and there was nothing that I could do to stop her. Then she used to go off by herself for walks nearly every evening"

"It was like she was shutting me out" Joe finished.

"Look" Frank said. "I know I wasn’t there but I talked to Vanessa a lot on the phone, and she kept telling me how good you had been, how you knew that she needed space and never pressured her. She really loves you Joe"

Joe smiled. "What a time for a heart to heart" he said. "There are probably a half a dozen of Frazer’s goons behind us and we are sitting on the side of the road talking about our feelings.

"Let’s get going so" Frank replied, as he started the car.