"I have a debt I need to pay off. A pretty hefty one. When I got the letter about the inheritance from dear old Uncle George, it was like some kind of sign. With my share and Vanessa’s I’ll have enough to pay off the debt and still have some left over for me. Even after taxes."

As they all clearly heard Ryan state his intent to acquire Vanessa’s share of the inheritance, Tony threw Frank a huge grin and a thumbs up. Frank nodded and smiled back, but knew that Ryan simply stating his intentions wasn’t enough. They needed an actual confession.

Listening to the comments Ryan made about the woman Vanessa had become, Frank winced at Joe’s growled response.

‘Easy, Bro. Don’t blow it now. We need more.’ Frank thought nervously.

Relieved at Joe’s lack of any further response, Frank smiled when he realized he’d been right. Ryan had no idea he’d been investigated in Florida and simply thought Joe had indeed remembered too much too soon.

His relief was fleeting as he heard the painful slap Ryan delivered at Joe’s comment on Andrea Bender. Moving on sheer instinct Frank immediately started to rise, coming to his brothers defense the only thing on his mind. He had barely started to move when Biff grabbed his arm, pulling him back down. Yanking his arm away, Frank glared at Biff despite the fact that he knew Biff had done the right thing.

As Ryan began talking faster, Frank leaned forward looking around Biff at his father who was on the other side of the barn doors, crouched down next to Ezra Collig. Fenton smiled at Frank as Ryan described to Joe how he had gained access to the building launching into the full confession they so desperately needed.

Sitting back, Frank felt an air of depression settle around him as they learned how Vanessa’s temporary escape into the bathroom only resulted in Ryan getting the time he needed to inject a large dose of LSD into a now dazed Joe. Particularly difficult for everyone, was listening to Ryan describe his attack on Vanessa and her attempts to fight back during Joe’s severe reaction to the drug that quickly took control of his mind.

Frank felt his anger turning into a full blown rage as Ryan refused to tell Joe who had actually stabbed Vanessa, preferring instead to watch Joe suffer, still not knowing if he was the one who had inflicted the almost fatal wounds. Incensed at Ryan’s tactics, Frank barely heard him conclude his confession with the escape off the balcony. However, Frank did hear Ryan’s final words and they chilled him to the bone.

"It’s time to get this over with once and for all."

Frank looked at his father and Ezra Collig frantically. Footsteps could be heard inside the barn, indicating Ryan was moving again but no more words were spoken. Seconds ticked by in total silence. Taking a chance, Frank silently rose to a standing position and peered through the open window.

Frank’s eyes grew wide and he was sure his heart stopped as he saw Ryan grab Joe’s arm, pull it straight and place the needle flush against Joe’s skin. Snapping his head around, Frank began gesturing wildly. Immediately, Ezra Collig and Con Riley stormed through the barn doors, guns drawn.

"Freeze! Bayport Police!"

Time stood still for barely a second and then there was a flash of movement. Suddenly Ryan was behind Joe, his left hand enmeshed in Joe’s hair. He roughly pulled Joe’s head back, leaving Joe’s neck exposed and vulnerable. The syringe in his right hand was now dangerously close to the carotid artery on Joe’s neck, which funneled blood from the heart directly to the brain. Ryan’s cold blue eyes searched out Fenton Hardy. Staring into the angry face of Joe’s father, Ryan pressed the tip of the needle into Joe’s skin, making the slightest indentation.

"There’s enough LSD in here to kill him in less than a minute." Ryan warned darkly.

Despite the life or death situation Joe found himself in, he couldn’t help but break into a tiny smile as his eyes locked on Frank’s. His scalp was screaming from Ryan’s unrelenting grip on his hair and Joe could feel the tip of the needle dangerously close to piercing the skin on his neck, yet he wasn’t the least bit worried. Frank had arrived with the cavalry just as Joe knew he would, leading Joe to believe the plan had come off without a hitch.

Joe looked from Frank to his father, noting the seething anger Fenton had directed squarely at Ryan. After Ryan’s proclamation of Joe’s impending demise, a deathly silence ensued which was now broken by Con Riley.

"Ryan, put the syringe down and take a few steps back." Con said, his voice calm and soothing. "Vanessa is recovering. No one’s been killed yet. Things will go a lot easier on you if you let him go now."

"Easier?" Ryan repeated his voice elevated slightly. "Easier how? I get to spend the next forty years in prison instead of my whole life? Thanks, but I think I’ll pass."

As Ryan spoke, his hand began to shake as the reality of the situation hit him. "You guys were out there the whole time?" He asked, getting no response. Joe grimaced, as Ryan pulled harder on his hair, pressing down on the needle allowing it to just barely penetrate the skin. "You set me up!" He snarled through gritted teeth.

"Ryan!" Con barked, trying to get Ryan’s attention off of Joe and back on him. "What will it take for you to let him go?"

"Negotiate?" Ryan asked, not sure whether Con should be trusted.

"Negotiate." Con agreed. "We don’t want Joe to get hurt and you don’t want to go to prison. We should be able to reach some kind of compromise."

"A plane." Ryan demanded. "I want a private plane to take me out of the country. Transportation to the airport. Two hundred thousand dollars."

"That can be arranged." Con replied.

"And him," Ryan gave another little tug on Joe’s hair, "as a hostage."

"Uh-uh. No deal." Con said evenly.

"You can take me." Frank quickly spoke up. "I’m a licensed pilot. You’ll get a pilot and a hostage in one shot and you’ll have one less person to keep an eye on." There was a tense silence as Ryan considered Frank’s offer.

Seeing Ryan’s attention was momentarily diverted from him, Joe focused not on his older brother, but instead on Ezra Collig. Staring intently, he watched the police chief’s every move, knowing his timing had to be perfect. Joe was suddenly very grateful for that fateful Saturday morning, several months earlier, when he couldn’t sleep. He’d gone down to the police firing range to get in some target practice and found one other person with the same idea – Chief Ezra Collig. Somehow, they’d gotten into a friendly competition and that was when Joe learned the veteran cop’s well-kept secret. Collig was an expert marksman, a sharpshooter extraordinaire. While Joe was by far the best marksman in his family, Ezra Collig had put him to shame, effortlessly hitting the bulls-eye dead center every time.

Joe now watched him carefully, looking for the signs. He could feel Frank’s eyes on him, imploring Joe to look at him, make eye contact, but Joe couldn’t take the chance of glancing away even for a second. He watched and waited patiently, not even daring to blink. And then he saw it. The hard steel-blue eyes narrowed ever so slightly. The trigger finger moved just a hair.

Bracing himself for the painful jolt he knew was unavoidable, Joe forcefully shifted his weight to the left, throwing himself to the floor. At the same instant, a gunshot echoed through the old barn. Ryan cried out in pain as the syringe flew from his hand. He clutched at his right shoulder feebly, in a futile attempt to stop the instantaneous flow of blood. In seconds, Riley and Collig had Ryan in handcuffs with Riley holding a makeshift pressure dressing over the bullet wound as Collig radioed for an ambulance.

"Should I make it two?" Collig directed the question at Fenton Hardy who, along with Frank, was feverishly working to free Joe from the ropes still holding him to the chair.

"No, I’m fine." Joe replied quickly. As the last of his bonds fell away, Joe sat on the floor grimacing and rubbing his sore shoulder.

"Are you sure about that?" Collig asked at the look on Joe’s face.

"Yeah, just a bruise." Joe smiled.

"Let me see." Frank said worriedly, hovering over his brother.

Joe sat back, letting Frank examine his shoulder carefully, not saying a word. He’d seen the terror on his brother’s face when Ryan had pressed the needle to his neck. If taking a few moments to satisfy himself that Joe was none the worse for wear would make Frank happy, Joe was more than willing to go along with it.

"You’re really all right?" Fenton asked apprehensively, absently ruffling Joe’s hair the way he did when Joe was a child.

Joe stifled a sigh at the gesture he hated, knowing it simply meant his father was deeply concerned about him.

Glancing down, Fenton let out a small gasp. "Your arm! It’s bleeding!" Fenton cried out, not even trying to hide the panic in his voice. Looking back at his son, Fenton’s eyes held the same look of fear.

"Joe…did he…are you…" Fenton began but stumbled over the words. Taking a deep breath, he tried again. "Were you injected with any of the LSD?"

‘Please, God, please let him say no.’ Fenton prayed as his eyes began to burn. ‘Please say no.’ He silently pleaded with Joe.

"No, Dad, I wasn’t." Joe assured him. "The tip of the needle must have pierced my skin, but thanks to you guys he didn’t have time to finish." Joe smiled, glancing around at his friends gratefully.

Fenton’s shoulders slumped and he let out an audible sigh of relief. "Thank you." He whispered, squeezing his eyes shut.

Joe looked at his father worriedly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Dad," he said softly, "are you all right?"

All of a sudden, Fenton grabbed Joe, pulling him into a tight hug. Automatically, Joe hugged his father back, momentarily stunned when he though he heard a muffled sob.

"Dad?" Joe repeated, growing concerned at his father’s totally out of character reaction.

Fenton found he couldn’t respond, simply holding tightly to his youngest son, lost in the guilt he’d never come to terms with six years earlier. After all this time, Fenton still hadn’t forgiven himself for his part in the hell Joe had gone through when, at the age of seventeen, he was kidnapped resulting in short-lived heroin addiction.

At the time, Fenton had punished Joe for deliberately leaving the house when he had been expressly told not to. In not allowing Joe to accompany he and Frank on a stake out that night, Joe had been a sitting duck. When the Hardy home was broken into, Joe had been abducted as Laura was left behind, locked in the basement all night.

Over the next two days, Joe had been regularly injected with heroin in a failed attempt to get him permanently addicted to the drug. After being rescued by Fenton, Joe had been taken to Bayport General Hospital and then spent time in a drug rehabilitation facility. While he hadn’t become addicted to the drug, he’d been given enough heroin during his captivity to cause physical withdrawal symptoms.

Determined to bring down the drug operation, Joe had let his family believe he’d become addicted to the drug, embarking on a solo undercover assignment. Eventually, Frank had discovered what Joe was up to resulting in the two of them, along with Fenton, Sam and several law enforcement agencies bringing down the suppliers who had kept Bayport's drug dealers in business.

Apparently, Ryan’s forcibly injecting Joe with LSD had triggered the terrifying memories for Fenton, which in turn dredged up the guilt he had buried so many years ago. Despite the fact that Joe was now a grown man, Fenton still felt he had once again failed to protect his son from the horrors of drugs.

Sensing his father just needed to know he had come out of the whole ordeal unharmed, Joe patted Fenton on the back.

"Dad, it’s okay. I’m fine. Really." Joe murmured.

Finally feeling his father’s grip loosen a bit, Joe stepped back and looked into Fenton’s red-rimmed eyes, flashing his best smile.

Placing his hand on the back of Joe’s neck, Fenton squeezed lightly and finally smiled back at his son. "Yes. You are." He rasped.

As Frank watched the two, Joe grinned at his brother. "Thanks for the save, Bro. I told you it would be a piece of cake."

Frank pushed down the lump in his throat as the realization hit him. ‘He thinks I was here the whole time! He has no idea what really happened!’

"Uh, Joe…" Frank started to explain, stopping abruptly when Fenton seemed to go into a coughing spasm.

Looking up, Frank saw the look in his father’s eyes, knowing immediately the coughing jag was a ruse. ‘Not now!’ The look said. ‘Later!’

As Joe turned to stare at Ryan, Frank saw the anxiety in his brother’s face and knew exactly what it meant. Frank strode across the room coming to a stop in front of Ryan.

"Tell him." Frank ordered, anger blazing in his eyes.

"Tell him what?" Ryan queried, knowing full well what Frank wanted.

"Tell him who stabbed Vanessa." Frank took another step closer.

Slowly, Biff, Tony, Chet and Phil flanked Frank. Unaccustomed to the anger they heard in his voice, they hovered closely, watching and waiting.

Ryan held Frank’s gaze a second longer before turning his eyes on Joe. Seeing the anguish Joe couldn’t hide, Ryan smiled sadistically.

"No." He said simply, thoroughly enjoying Joe’s torment.

Immediately Frank lunged forward, grabbing for Ryan. Just as quickly, he felt his friends holding him back, murmuring words of caution.

"Tell him." Frank repeated obviously struggling to control his normally non-existent temper. "He’ll find out anyway as soon as Vanessa wakes up." Frank reminded Ryan relaxing enough to appease his friends who backed off slightly.

"Frank, don’t worry about." Joe said quietly. "It’s okay."

"It is not okay." Frank repeated hatred permeating each word, as his eyes bored into Ryan.

Looking back at Frank, Ryan was completely unfazed by the fire in his eyes. "Let him suffer." He said maliciously.

As the others looked on in shock, Frank’s fist shot out, catching Ryan square on the chin, snapping his head back. "That’s for Joe." He spat out, glaring down at Ryan. Turning, Frank walked back to his younger brother and placed a hand on his back protectively. "Let’s get out of here."

As the two brothers approached the door, Joe turned to Frank and smiled knowingly. "Felt good, didn’t it?"

"Damn good." Frank murmured, unable to contain a little smile of his own.

As they walked out into the afternoon sun, Frank’s cell phone broke the silence. "It’s Callie." He announced seeing the number on the screen.

"Hey, Babe." Frank listened a moment and then broke out in a huge grin. "We’re on our way!" He exclaimed picking up speed as he pocketed the phone. Turning around and walking backwards, Frank motioned for his younger brother to pick up the pace.

"Come on, Joe! Hurry up!"

"What’s the rush?" Joe asked, his cramped muscles protesting the rapid movement.