"Frank?"

"Yeah, it’s me. Listen, Joe, you need to come over here right away." Frank said.

"Why? What’s happened?" Joe demanded.

"Just come over. Now." Frank replied and hung up the phone, preferring that Joe hear Laura’s message for himself. Knowing it would take Joe at least ten minutes to get there, Frank sat down to finish his coffee.

Less than five minutes later, a dumbfounded Frank heard the squeal of tires in his driveway. It was followed by a car door being slammed shut, his own front door being thrown open and the sound of running feet. There was barely a second of complete silence when a very angry Joe confronted his stunned older brother.

"You hung up on me!" Joe accused.

Still a little shocked at Joe’s swift appearance, Frank glanced at the clock on the wall and shook his head before looking back at Joe.

"Just how fast were you going?" He asked, ignoring Joe’s accusation.

Joe smiled sheepishly and reddened a bit. "You don’t want to know."

"I’m sure I don’t." Frank agreed. He walked to the answering machine, motioning Joe to follow. "Listen to this."

Pressing the play button, Frank watched his brother carefully as he listened to the message. He saw initial relief as Joe heard their mother’s voice. It was followed in quick succession by surprise, anger and fierce determination.

"About time." Joe said angrily when the message was done. "They could have had her make that call last night!"

"And deprive us of all that anguish?" Frank replied, not wanting to voice his fear that Laura may have been too incapacitated to make the call the previous evening.

"Well, at least we know they’re okay for now." Joe began, restlessly pacing the room. "And after I get back tonight, we’ll know what the kidnappers want."

"Correction, little brother. After we get back."

Joe stopped, mid-pace, and turned on his sibling, his eyes narrowed. "She said I had to go alone, Frank. Alone. That means without you."

"No way." Frank said adamantly, his protective instincts all ready in high gear. "This has ‘set up’ written all over it. They all ready have Mom and Dad. No way am I letting them get you, too."

"Why would they grab me, Frank? Mom said only you can meet their demands. If I don’t come back, you won’t know what they want." Joe pointed out.

"No." Frank shook his head stubbornly. "I won’t let you go alone."

"You won’t let me go alone?" Joe growled.

"You heard me." Frank snapped, the lack of sleep making him unusually irritable. "It’s too dangerous."

"What, you think I’m incapable of making a simple pick up without my big brother there telling me what to do?!" Joe lashed out.

"No, of course not!" Frank shot back.

"If they had wanted you to pick up the ransom demands alone, would you be so insistent that I go with you?" Joe challenged.

Frank was silent for a moment. Joe had struck a nerve. "I just don’t like it, Joe. It doesn’t feel right."

"I don’t like it either," Joe concurred, "but it’s not worth risking Mom’s life."

Frank rubbed his eyes tiredly, sinking into a chair at the kitchen table. He stared at Joe, concern oozing out of every pore. Images of Joe slowly paraded across his vision. Joe lying in a bed at the Campbell Psychiatric Center, completely out of touch with reality; chained to a fence in the wilderness, near death; lying in yet another hospital bed attached to more machines than Frank thought possible; lying on the floor in pain, clutching his left arm protectively; smiling proudly every day, when he saw that Frank was still wearing the ID bracelet Joe had given him for his twenty-fifth birthday. Frank fingered the bracelet, knowing Joe was right. A chair scraped on the floor and Frank looked up to see his younger brother watching him from across the table.

"Frank, I know this is probably a set up, but our hands are tied. If they even suspect I’m not alone, they’ll kill Mom without a second thought. We don’t have a choice. I have to go alone." Joe felt a twinge of guilt seeing the anxiety on his brother’s face. "And if they do grab me, I know you’ll find us. You always do." Joe smiled.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." Frank replied. "And you’re right. We really don’t have a choice."

"What?" Joe leaned forward, cupping a hand to his ear. "Did you just say I was right?"

"You heard what I said." Frank said with a chuckle.

"Could you say it again?" Joe requested, a spark of mischief lighting his eyes. "Only this time could you preface it with ‘I was wrong.’ "