"This one is about 90 miles northwest of the city but it will probably take you at least two hours to get there. It’s not a straight shot." Carlos explained, going over the route with Frank. "I’d try it before any of the others. Based on their recent pattern, it’s by far the most likely place they’d take him."

Frank nodded studying the map intently.

"I really wish I could go with you, but I’ve been working a case undercover for the past six months and I finally got a meeting with the top guy in the smuggling ring we’ve been trying to crack." Carlos said apologetically.

"You’ve already been a big help." Frank assured him. "Without you, we wouldn’t even know where to begin looking. You’ve saved us a lot of time."

"I just wish I could do more." Carlos glanced at his watch and stood up to leave. He hesitated a moment, trying to decide whether he should really verbalize what he was thinking.

"What is it?" Frank asked, sensing he wanted to say something more.

"Just…be prepared, Frank." He said vaguely.

"Prepared?" Frank repeated, puzzled. "For what? Meeting up with Rashman and Malick?"

"No… I meant…" Carlos stopped, thinking maybe he shouldn’t have said anything at all.

"Come on, Carlos. You can’t say something like that and not explain it."

"Prepare yourself for what you’re going to find. He gets some kind of perverse pleasure out of photographing his victims as they are being tortured and sending one to the family. I’ve seen some of those pictures, Frank. Your brother…he’s going to be in bad shape. Just be ready for it." Carlos said sadly.

Frank swallowed hard, extending a hand to the detective. "Thanks again for all your help." He said hoarsely.

"Good luck." Sanchez replied. "I hope you find him in time."

As he watched Carlos Sanchez walk away, Frank sank back into the chair and put his head in his hands.

*****

Down the hall, Fenton Hardy was in a heated discussion with Justin Gray and several other Secret Service agents along with their superiors in Washington, D.C. via conference call. He had been trying to convince them to spare a few agents in the search for Joe. Gray seemed inclined to agree, but as Fenton had feared, his superiors didn’t think that finding Joe was a top priority.

"You just said you wanted to catch them. If you find Joe, you’ll find your assassins!" Fenton pointed out trying to keep the condescension out of his voice.

"True, but they aren’t the brains behind the organization, just the muscle. We’d rather catch the top level of the syndicate." The supervisor in D.C. replied.

"So you won’t even spare one agent to help find my son."

"I just can’t see my way clear to do that. We’ll need every agent we have working on this right in Chicago."

"You do understand if not for Joe you never would have known about the assassination attempt." Fenton retorted.

"And we are very grateful."

"But not grateful enough to care whether he lives or dies." Fenton tried to keep his voice steady.

A heavy sigh came through the speakerphone. "I’m sorry, Mr. Hardy. I cannot spare any agents to help search for a kidnapped civilian."

"But the kidnapped civilian is the only reason we know about this." Justin Gray reinforced what Fenton had already said. He wanted to help the Hardy’s find Joe, he felt they owed them that much, even if his superiors didn’t seem to agree. "I’m sure I can spare…"

"I’m sure you can’t, Agent Gray." The voice said coldly. "I’m sorry, but the answer is no. I do hope you understand, Mr. Hardy."

"No, I don’t understand at all." Fenton replied, making sure his contempt and disgust was clear to all. Standing up, he turned and left the small office, slamming the door behind him.

Leaning back against it, he felt the emotions he’d been keeping suppressed all night demanding to be released. Inexplicably, his eyes started to burn with tears. He had no idea how he and Frank were going to find Joe on their own. This was the most important search he had ever undertaken in his life, and he was not at all sure they had any chance of succeeding.

"They won’t help, huh?"

Fenton opened his eyes and saw George standing in front of him, sympathy in his eyes.

"No." Fenton replied quietly.

George reached out and squeezed his friend’s shoulder. "Fenton you’re the best at what you do. If anyone can find him, you can."

Fenton smiled weakly at his friend. "Thanks."

"I just wish I could do more to help you." George said, as the two men walked down the hall to the office where Frank was waiting.

"Getting Carlos here was a huge help, George. If not for him we really would have no clue where to start looking for Joe. And we can’t waste time searching blindly."

"Just let me know if there is anything else I can do." George said stopping next to an open door.

"We’ll need a rental car." Fenton said, hopefully.

"Already done. I’ll go get the details on where to pick it up." He replied, continuing down the hall to his office.

*****

Frank rubbed his eyes and glanced at the clock on the wall. Five thirty in the morning. After Sanchez’s comment about the pictures, he couldn’t stop thinking about Joe and what might be happening to him, yet he’d give anything to be able to block those thoughts from his mind. All night he had been listening to everyone talk about these two men who had taken his brother, and their callous disregard for human life. He didn’t miss the sympathetic looks people would throw his way when they thought he wasn’t looking or the whispers about a wild goose chase. Frank realized with a shudder, that he was no longer as confident that they would find Joe, alive and unhurt, as he had been upon arriving over eight hours ago.

Checking the clock again, Frank was frustrated to see another ten minutes had passed. Frank could hear the ticking of the clock echoing in his ears, mocking him. Time was not on their side and every second they waited was another second Joe was being subjected to God knows what kind of abuse at the hands of these animals.

Frank was a firm believer in science, in fact, tangible things he could see for himself. Yet he also believed, with all his heart, that he and his brother shared a special bond that no one else understood. He prayed that Joe would use that bond tonight to survive whatever was in store for him.

Reaching forward, Frank picked up the three pictures lying on the table in front of him. Keith Rashman, Dennis Malick and Joe. Carlos had spent several hours with Frank going over detailed maps of the area where he believed Rashman and Malick had taken Joe. Sanchez had apologized profusely for not being able to narrow down the area any further. While Frank was grateful for all the help Sanchez had given them, he came to the depressing conclusion that searching for Joe was going to be like looking for a needle in a haystack. The area Sanchez had pointed out was wide-open, unoccupied, desolate land that few people had any reason to visit.

Once they had concluded their meeting, Frank had gone to make still pictures of Rashman and Malick from the security videotape. The task had been easy and he had spent the past forty-five minutes awaiting his father’s return from his meeting. They planned to leave as soon as possible for the area Sanchez had directed them to. They would pass through several small towns en route, where they planned to stop and ask the locals if they had seen Joe or his captors, hence the need for the pictures.

As Frank’s mind began to whirl anew with horrible images of his brother being beaten and tortured, he was relieved to hear his father’s voice drifting down the hall, getting louder as he approached. When Fenton appeared in the doorway, Frank knew immediately the news was not good.

"They refuse to help." Fenton said simply.

"What?" Frank asked, unbelieving. "How can they say no? If it wasn’t for Joe…"

"I know, Frank, but their answer is no." Fenton said curtly, the strain starting to wear on him. "We’re on our own."

Exhausted from the emotional roller coaster, Frank suddenly felt his eyes fill with tears and quickly spun away from his father, hoping to hide them, but he was not quick enough. Fenton felt a stab of guilt, for taking out his frustration on Frank who was obviously having a much more difficult time with this than Fenton had originally thought. Putting a hand on Frank’s shoulder, Fenton gently turned his older son around to face him.

"I’m sorry, Frank. I didn’t mean to take out my frustration on you." He said apologetically.

Frank nodded, wiping at his eyes. He looked at his father and Fenton was struck by how young and vulnerable he suddenly seemed.

‘Sometimes I forget they are still my children.’ Fenton realized, having become quite comfortable working side by side with his sons and looking at them as equals. ‘Sometimes I forget they still need their Daddy.’ He thought pulling Frank into him and hugging him tightly.

"I’m scared, Dad." Frank whispered. "Will we even be able to find him? What kind of shape will he be in if we do? Will he even be alive?" Frank questioned his father, suddenly filled with doubt. Pulling away, his deep brown eyes reflected the intense fear he felt for his younger brother.

Fenton placed his hands on Frank’s shoulders and stared into his eyes – eyes that so often mirrored his own. He could hear the hesitation in Frank’s voice and knew he was terrified that he would never see Joe alive again.

"We will find him, Frank. And he will be alive. I came out here to bring my son home – not retrieve his body." Fenton said with absolute certainty.

"Excuse me." Justin Gray entered the room interrupting their conversation. "I have some news."

Frank’s heart stopped, as he was certain the man was about to tell him Joe’s body had been found.

"What is it?" Fenton asked, fearing he already knew the answer.

"The fund raiser has been cancelled. We’ll be making the announcement first thing this morning."

"No!" Frank cried out. "You can’t do that! You’ll be signing Joe’s death warrant!"

"Believe me, I explained the circumstances of the situation, but my superiors felt that it was prudent to cancel the event and announce it as soon as possible." Gray said, hating himself for not standing up to those who had disagreed with him. He had never liked the idea of sacrificing one innocent person to save another, no matter how powerful the ‘other’ person was.

"Just give us one day to find him. We have a lead now. We know where to start looking for him." Fenton implored him.

"I’m sorry." Gray said simply.

"You’ve already refused to help us search for him. The least you can do is give us a little time to find him on our own. All I'm asking is that you put off announcing the fundraiser has been cancelled for twenty-four hours. As long as they think it's still happening they need Joe alive to tell them where that file is. As soon as you announce the cancellation he's useless to them. Please, just give me one day to find my son." Fenton pleaded with the agent.

"Again, I'm sorry, but that's just not possible."

"Why not?" Frank asked angrily. "Joe mistakenly gets a file and has the presence of mind not only to hide it, but gets word to us that he did. If not for him you never would have known about this! He saved not only the life of Senator Hurley, but probably the President as well!"

"Yes, it would seem so." The agent acquiesced.

"And in return you can't even give us twenty-four hours to find him?" Fenton said, incredulous.

"I'm sorry, but we have to announce the cancellation now. Do you have any idea how many people will be inconvenienced if we put off this announcement for another day?"

Frank watched in shock as his father's tenuous grip on his temper gave way completely. Grabbing Agent Gray by the front of his shirt, Fenton threw the agent up against the wall, his brown eyes shooting fire at the stunned man.

"Inconvenience?!" He bellowed. "Are you saying my son's life isn't worth inconveniencing a few people?!"

Justin Gray was about to reply that it was closer to a few thousand people who would be inconvenienced when it hit him that somewhere along the line he had turned into one of those cookie cutter government agents that he had always detested. The ones who followed the party line without question and no longer thought for themselves. Hurley was safe. The President was safe. If not for Joe Hardy, there was a very good chance they both would have been assassinated. He didn't even need to think about it.

"You have twenty-four hours."