He heard the gas shut off and the tank being shut. Shoes tapped against the pavement as his captor moved away from the car, probably to go inside and pay for the fuel. Joe lifted the lid of the trunk and peered around. He could see Barlow through the front window. He was pointing to the cigarette shelf behind the attendant. Joe eased himself out of the trunk and made his way painfully over to the pay phone at the end of the building.

Still in his hospital gown, Joe had no money, but the phone did not charge for dialing 911. Joe hit the buttons and waited impatiently while the call went through. He heard the phone pick up on the other end and began speaking, not waiting for anyone to talk to him for fear it would take too much time and he would be discovered.

“My name is Joe Hardy,” Joe said. “I was abducted from Bayport General Hospital. The number here is 555-4545. My abductor is Walter Barlow, he’s driving a...” Joe broke off as a hand appeared out of nowhere and cut him off.

“Tsk, tsk,” Walter said, then smashed a fist into Joe’s face.

***

“Laura, honey,” Fenton said as he and Frank entered the hospital room where Laura had been placed. The doctor had decided to keep her overnight for observation.

“That man took Joe,” Laura cried. “I tried to stop him but...”

“Shh, it’s okay,” Fenton told her. “We’ll get him back.”

“Any idea on where Barlow might have taken Joe?” Collig asked Frank.

Frank shook his head. “Pete would know,” he said. “If we could get him to talk.”

Chief Collig’s radio crackled at that moment and he moved away for some privacy. “How are you feeling?” Frank asked, going over to his mother’s bedside.

Tears sprang to her eyes as she looked up at Frank. “I’m so sorry,” she said softly.

“It’s not your fault, mom,” Frank comforted her.

“No, it’s mine. I should have suspected one of them might come back after Joe,” Fenton said, his voice full of remorse.

“We have a starting point,” Collig said, coming over and interrupting them. “Apparently Joe got away long enough to call and give them the number at the phone he was using. He was cut off before he could give any more info other than that he had been kidnapped by Barlow.”

“Did you trace the number?” Frank demanded.

“It’s a pay phone at a gas station on HWY 17,” Collig answered.

“They could be going anywhere!” Laura moaned.

“No,” disagreed Chief Collig. “There’s an old farm out that way, about two miles off the main drag that we have been keeping under surveillance. A car matching the one Barlow drives was spotted out there a couple of times.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Laura demanded. “Go! Get my son!”

***

Walter pulled to a stop in front of the depilated barn and got out. He removed the gun from his belt and opened the trunk. “Wake up,” he growled at Joe.

Joe didn’t move and his eyes remained closed. “Get up!” Walter ordered, his voice getting louder as he nudged Joe with his gun.

Joe groaned and moved his head as his eyes fluttered open. “Get out now,” Walter ordered him again, poking Joe with the barrel.

Joe turned to his side and used his left arm to help lift himself to a sitting position. He could feel the moisture seeping through his bandages as he climbed out of the car. “Stop dragging,” Walter snarled, shoving Joe toward the entrance to the barn.

“Why did you bring him?” demanded a heavyset man with curly black hair as Joe and Walter entered the barn.

“We needed a hostage,” Walter said and then told him and the other five men who gathered around about the raid on the boat. “Pete’s going to prison because of this kid,” he ended, shoving Joe to the ground.

“We better move out,” said the man with the long black beard that was streaked with gray. “You probably led the cops right to us.”

“I kept an eye out,” Walter declared, drawing himself up haughtily. “No one followed me. And I did bring us some insurance, just in case something went wrong.”

“The only thing that went wrong was your coming here,” snarled the bearded man. “We’ve kept this location secret for years but once you got involved we started having visitors.”

“What are you talking about?” Walter demanded.

“Two hikers were here the day before yesterday,” Walter was informed. “Less than two hours after you left. And two days before that, your boy dropped in. Said he had a taker who wanted more than he had. Your kid’s so stupid he had no idea it was a narc.”

“Maybe it wasn’t,” Walter defended his son.

“Yes, he was,” said a man with dirty blond hair. “I took him out myself. No one will find that body.”

“Where’d you leave it?” Walter asked, grinning.

“Mickey and I took it to the dump and buried it. It’s bound to be under a thousand feet or more of garbage by now,” the man answered with a deep laugh.

“And now we have to get rid of two more bodies,” said the bearded man.

“Two?” Walter asked. “We only have the kid to dispose of after we’ve used him.”

“The kid,” the bearded man agreed. “And you,” he added, pulling a gun from the waist of his pants and aiming it at Walter. Before Walter could move, the gun rang out and Walter fell to the ground.

“Tie the kid up,” the blond ordered two of the men. “Walter was right about one thing. We might need a little insurance.”

***

Chief Collig pulled his car off the road almost a mile before the designated area. “We’ll walk in,” Collig informed Fenton and Frank. “We can’t chance them seeing us.”

Getting out of the car, Collig walked over to his men as they exited their vehicles to give them some final instructions before they moved in. A bit later they were taking up positions outside of the barn. They were amazed to find there was no outlook but once they got a glimpse inside, they understood. The men were almost ready to evacuate!

“What about the kid?” one of the men was asking as the Hardys, Collig and Riley got within hearing.

“He was supposed to be a hostage,” the bearded man answered. “But I think he would be more trouble than he is worth.”

The men looked over to where Joe lay on the floor with his hands and feet tied. There was blood covering the front of his gown and his eyes were closed just as they had been since they had started tying him up.

“Should we put him out of his misery?” asked the dirty blond.

“Don’t even waste the ammo,” the bearded man answered. “If he isn’t already dead, it won’t be long.”

“Move!” Collig issued the order over his talkie.

Within seconds the men were surrounded. “Just try it,” Riley told one of the men, his tone almost begging him to go for his gun.

Swallowing nervously, the man lifted his hands into the air. The other men followed suit and Collig called in for an ambulance as the Hardys rushed to Joe’s side. “Is he...” Collig asked.

“He’s alive,” Fenton answered, his voice terse. He and Frank untied Joe and tried, unsuccessfully, to revive him.

“Sir!” shouted one of the officers that were looking over the evidence. “Barlow is over here.”

Frank’s eyes narrowed to slits and he stood up, ready to exact his own revenge for the damage Barlow had done to his brother. “Bring him out,” Collig ordered.

“He’s dead, Sir,” the officer replied. “He was shot.”

Collig turned to the prisoners. One of them shrugged. “He was a liability.” Feeling cheated, but relieved, Frank sank back to his knees beside Joe and remained there until the ambulance arrived.

Four hours later, Joe was back in the hospital. His mother had insisted on leaving her room and was sitting in a wheelchair beside Joe’s bed. Fenton was resting in the chair on the other side of the bed and Frank was standing at the foot. Joe’s stitches had come open and he had begun bleeding on the trip to the barn. After a transfusion and having fresh stitches put in, Joe was doing well. He had woken up half an hour ago and been informed of the men’s capture and Joe had reported the murder of the DEA agent he had overheard the men talk about.

“I’ll call Collig and let him know about the DEA man,” Fenton said, standing up. “He can get the place dug up.”

“Where are you going?” Laura asked, looking at her husband as he came to her side.

Fenton smiled at her as the nurse entered the room. “Visiting hours are over,” Nurse Stover stated before Fenton could say a word.

“I’m staying,” Frank insisted, his expression mutinous.

“That’s fine, dear,” she replied, smiling at him. “But one of you will have to leave. And one of you,” she added, looking pointedly at Laura, “must return to her room.”

“Our cue, my dear,” Fenton said. He moved to Joe’s side and ruffled his hair. “I’ll be back in the morning.”

Joe nodded. “Thanks,” he said.

“For what?” Fenton asked, curiously.

“For being a great dad,” Joe replied, thinking of Walter and feeling sorry for Pete.

Fenton bent down and kissed Joe’s forehead. “No fair!” Laura protested. “I can’t do that!”

Laughing, Fenton took the handles of Laura’s wheelchair and rolled her out of the room as Frank sand down into the extra chair. Dinner was brought in shortly thereafter, the nurse even bringing in a tray for Frank. After the trays had been removed, the nurse came in to check Joe’s pulse and temperature then closed the door to give the brother’s some privacy.

Frank flipped off the light and sank down into the chair. “You can’t sleep there,“ Joe protested. “You’re exhausted.”

“Which means I can sleep anywhere,” Frank assured him with a smile. There was no way he was going to leave Joe alone after almost losing him again!

Joe bit his bottom lip and scooted over. “Come on in,” he offered.

“Forget it,” Frank declined. “We might have gotten away with it when we were kids but I don‘t think we could pull it off now.”

“If you won’t lay down, then neither will I,” Joe insisted stubbornly and started to get out of bed.

“Okay, okay,” Frank hurriedly agreed, easing Joe back against the bed. He went around and climbed in on the other side, grateful the beds were a bit larger than the twin beds they had at home.

Frank put an arm out and Joe laid his head on it, closing his eyes and smiling. It was good to be with family, Joe thought as he drifted off to sleep.

Two hours later the nurse opened the door and saw the two boys sleeping peacefully. Here we go again, she thought smiling nostalgically as she backed out of the room and closed the door.

End