Chapter 16
JT>> Whazzup? You haven't came in here to gather for a *#%#ing long time...
Alpha>> Been busy and all. Need some information.
JT>> Shoot. But I can't teach you how to hack into Maximillian Enterprise, I haven't succeeded yet.
Alpha>> When you do, tell me. I need to know about a certain hacker, Brines. If I remember correctly, he should have been discharged from juvenile detention 2 years ago for hacking into the FBI website. Since then, we have not seen his signature anywhere else.
JT>> You just don't know where to look. He now only hacks for people with personal...needs...for a price.
Alpha>> How do I get him?
JT>> Just post something, make your intentions known...pay the right price. He will come to you.
Alpha>> Spread the word for me. $50 000 for the successful break in into Maximillian Enterprise System.
JT>> Whoah...at that price, may I join?
Alpha>> You know where he is, you just ain't telling me. Tell him he must get it done by tonight. If he's not Brine, I'm not going to pay.
JT>> I need more time. He's hard to get hold of.
Alpha>> I don't care.
JT>> Did anyone tell you you're an asshole?
Alpha>> All the time man. Thanks. There'll be something in for you too. I'll wire to the same account.
JT>> No problemo.
----------Alpha has left the chat room----------
I wonder what Nancy saw in Frank? Well...he's *grudgingly* handsome, *more grudgingly* rich and dressed like he's posing for GQ but...in my eyes, he's an arrogant idiot. Still...he's a pretty good partner to work cases with. You can actually stop thinking because no matter what you thought does not count to him...snobbish...and what's that? Trying to laze? No way am I going to let you, *good naturedly* sickening child...
"Hey brat! Stop staring at the ceiling and do your reps." Michel had glanced in Joe's direction and realized that Joe had stopped working out on the treadmill and was looking up, a little pre-occupied.
"Huh?" Joe turned towards Michel and looked at him the same way he was looking at the ceiling, intense and a little confused.
"Joe? You were supposed to start off with twenty minutes of a slow walk on your treadmill...to train your legs...remember?" Michel began cautiously. He had not mentioned to Joe directly but he noticed that Joe was a little more and more forgetful lately and thus, he would prompt his friend until Joe himself remembered what he was supposed to do.
Joe knitted his brows together and finally nodded. "Oh yah...I was...just a little distracted..."
"Distracted enough to stop your treadmill?" Michel gave Joe a slightly annoyed look and went to program the treadmill all over again. Joe smiled a little weakly.
"I was just thinking...of other things...and I just forgot about it, no big deal..."
"You should get yourself a notebook one day, jot down everything you're supposed to do. Here...let's put it as fifteen minutes." Michel patted Joe on the back as he watched, with a little sadness at how Joe struggled to even walk properly now when he used to beat Michel to the field of stars, as the brat had termed it, even when he was under the influence. And Joe though seemed to be getting better, Michel noticed other funny behaviors besides his memory lapses, one of which was the intense stare at his hands, which would follow by the reluctance to touch anything, inanimate or animate, which Joe was doing now, and he almost laughed sadly when he watch Joe trying to touch the treadmill handles with only the tips of his fingers for support with much difficulty.
And thus he fell.
"Whoah...watch it..." Michel hurried over and picked Joe up from the floor. Joe shook Michel away and tried to stand by himself but Michel knew it was because Joe did not want to touch him. Michel could never confirm whether it was because Joe suddenly thought everything around him was too dirty or too clean. But Michel was not one to give in to Joe's tirades. He helped Joe up still.
"You still want to work out? You have done enough today actually."
Joe looked at the floor and shook his head. "I think I'll rot in my bed some more. Thanks."
A feeling of pity washed over Michel. Besides him, Samantha and the occasional guest, Joe hardly had any contact with the outside world and never stepped out of his room since that incident with Frank. Michel was also a little worried that Joe's weird behaviors were because he somehow knew about Hope's and Frank's engagement. He had instructed Samantha not to let Joe read any newspapers for the next few days and Samantha gave him a look that told him his orders were too late but he did not persist in finding out. He was a little afraid to.
Struck by an idea, he sat Joe down on his bed and started rummaging into Joe's wardrobe for something nicer than the white color t-shirt and pants that he was wearing. He threw a pair of cargo pants and a plain navy blue long-sleeve t-shirt with a hood onto Joe's bed. Joe looked at the clothes and then raised an eyebrow at him. He smiled and squeezed his friend's shoulders very gently, since the wounds still hurt. Though Joe cringed a little, he kept his grip and said, "We're going out."
"Why must we go out? Joe shuffled along behind Michel uncomfortably. His new wardrobe was all bought by Fenton who knew nothing about fashion but was advised by Michel to get clothes that were comfortable and practical. Joe's personal taste in long-sleeves and hooded tops would later dictate the purchases by Fenton Hardy. Yet, Joe never wore those expensive brands or more dressy stuff because he had no need to. Now that he was actually in something else besides black, he felt very ill at ease.
These are not my clothes, I'll soil them...
"Take your hood down...you're not that hideous you know..." Michel guided Joe down the stairs. Suddenly filled with an urge to release his bladder, he left Joe at the bottom of the stairs. Michel had shielded him from the servants and now that he was alone, he spotted the servants giving funny looks like he was a hermit just out of his hole and they were intrigued.
I'm a hermit alright, I've forgotten what's its like out here.
He knew he was supposed to stay put like Michel told him too but he could not help himself. Slowly walking to the living room, he saw that even in the bright sunlight that hurt his eyes and burned his soul, the platform was still dimmed, being in the darkest corner of the living room. As if in a trance, he tethered towards the finely crafted piano, and longed to hear the crystalline timber of the purest of tones.
Sitting down on the stool and with much effort, he lifted up the cover with all his strength. Suddenly, he remembered the night in the music room. Another numbness washed over him. The sudden realization that he was not able to play anymore seemed to have shut down the system that directed him to feel. He sat and stared at the ivory keys, ivory keys that would not welcome him anymore. And besides, he knew if he put his hands over the keys, the pure whiteness of it would stain red.
"There you are...I thought I told you to stay there?" Michel voice boomed and Joe turned to find Michel sitting on the stool next to him.
"I tried to. You were too long," came the soft reply. He felt Michel put an arm around him and though he was not in the mood for friendly affection, the touch comforted him a little. "I can't play anymore."
The hand on his shoulders patted it. Michel then stood up and had to drag Joe to his feet. Closing the piano for Joe, he replied very somberly, "Not long, complicated tunes. But I'm sure you can manage the simple ones, if you do your reps. They will heal, you know."
Joe knew that Michel was trying to comfort him, console him and thus he swallowed the temptation to scream at Michel. All those wonderful melodies that he loved so much, no heavy fingered person could bring them to life. He simply smiled wanly at Michel and walked away, with Michel following him now.
"I can't." Joe announced to Michel. Michel had driven them to the mall and had called in for tickets to a new movie that was screening.
"Why not?"
"There are people..."
"Joe...it's dinner time. There will be people." Michel unbelted himself and tried to help Joe but Joe flinched. Shrugging, Michel went over to the other side of the car, opened Joe's door and tried to drag Joe out.
"NO! I DON'T WANT TO! PLEASE!" Joe screamed, trying to push Michel away. The frantic look on his face made Michel a little guilty at having force Joe to do something he did not want to do. Yet, Joe could not hide from the world forever. He would have to face it one day.
"Joe, listen to me. I'm going to stick close to you. You'll be alright."
"Please...don't make me do this Michel, they'll see...they'll know..."
"Know what Joe?"
"I don't...don't ask Michel...don't make me do this...please..." Joe tried to shut the door but failed. Michel however relented. Joe was not going to greet the world that day after all.
"Then you want me to send you home?"
Another frighten look flashed Joe's face. He shook his head violently. "No home...can't..." He paused to breathe for a while. Then clamping his hands over his mouth, he pushed Michel aside again and Michel very quickly stepped aside too, knowing what would come next. Joe vomited all over the concrete ground of the car park, some of it splashed on Michel's car body.
"I'm so sorry. I just..." Joe stared at his vomit, his face turning red.
"Don't worry about a thing." He passed Joe a napkin which Joe took gratefully. "You're going to pay for the car wash."
"I don't want to go back there. Don't want to..."
"Then where do you want to go?"
Joe thought for the longest moment until his blue eyes flickered finally.
"I want to see stars."
They lied on the ground like they always did when they came to the spot. Michel watched pensively as Joe stared up with dull lifeless eyes that refused to reflect brilliance of the starry night sky. Normally, in the past, before all the unfortunate events happened, Joe would at least find some comfort in the stars and Michel was very worried that even the stars had lost its magic for Joe.
"I made Hope, Caramel and Malcolm star bracelets with straws..."
Michel looked up at the sky and smiled, maybe the stars could still work their charms.
"And I think they have forgotten about it."
"I don't think so. Malcolm will keep all the knick knacks we give him safe in a box somewhere." Michel tried to allay Joe's fears, he could speak for Malcolm but he could not speak for Hope.
Joe closed his eyes, as if deep in pain. Michel wanted to ask Joe where it hurt and then he realized the pain came from the inside of Joe, gnawing at Joe perhaps furiously. "She's getting married to Frank. I wished her well this morning before you came."
"You did? That's...gracious of you."
Joe smirked. "I almost asked her to come back to me. That's not so gracious. Had to put down the phone without saying goodbye."
Michel patted Joe's shoulder next to him, unsure of what to say. Sometimes, the things Joe did surprised him, made him a little in awe of the strength that was left inside the crushed shell.
"It's good she's not with me, I'll drive her crazy. I drive myself crazy..." He turned to Michel, his eyes disturbed. "You think I'm crazy too. I see it in your eyes sometimes."
"No Joe, I don't. I think you need..." Michel bit back his words when he saw Joe's facial expression changed to one of self-pity.
"You think I need help. I think so too. I thought I was getting better, I can forget about the past but it comes back all the time. I forget so many things lately...but I can't forget what I really want to. I'm afraid sometimes...so afraid I'll forget faces and things that are dear to me permanently...when you came into my room this afternoon, I almost forgot your name. And I would feel funny sometimes...I can't sleep and I don't feel refreshed though I'm supposed to have slept. And when I wake, there's like voices in my head, different voices and I can't place them so I gave them names, my alter-ego, Truth and...someone ...well...they were telling me this, telling me that, giving me bad headaches that make me want to scream...forget it...you won't understand."
"Joe..."
"I want to ask so many questions, so many things I feel I have to know...I know I'm a sinner, worse than anybody else, but I..."
Can I tell him? Will it make him go mad? He seemed ok now...yes, I'll tell him...
And if he goes mad because I confused him...no...I can't.
Damn! Why must things be so difficult.
"I need to know." Joe's eyes were filled with resolution then they shadowed over with the old bafflement. "But I don't know what I want to know. The things I want to do too, I can't. If I see another piano, I'm afraid I'll take a bat and bash it up. If I see another pair of running shoes, I'll take a scissors and snip it. The need to destruct things that remind me of the past, it has never been stronger."
Michel could do nothing. He put an arm around Joe, letting Joe seek some support from his shoulder. He was glad nobody, especially Nancy, was around, or they would surely be mistaken. Yet he knew Joe needed that support and he felt very responsible, knowing that he was the only one who could give him that support. But Joe refused it standing up hastily, shakily.
"Don't be that nice to me. I like it better when you call me a brat." He hissed at Michel who was standing up himself.
"You're closing yourself in again. What gives Joe? You know you can count on me. I have proved to be a friend who will risk busting my ass just to save your back. You bashed down my door and I didn't give you a bad time about it. If you could chat hours and hours with a stranger over the internet, why can't you open up more to me?"
Joe looked sadly at the stars above. "I tell you more things than I tell any other people. But it's just..."
"Just what?"
"He would bust his ass once to save my back too. Look what happened now? And we weren't just friends, we're brothers. Sooner or later, something in that thick skull of yours will give and you'll see what I saw in myself. And like everybody else, you'll go away too. It's easier for someone over the internet to just go away, but I know you, I know your face, heard your voice. Rejection in real life is a very difficult thing to take."
Now's my cue, I can tell him now. Now...
I don't have the money to send him to an institution yet...
He gripped Joe's shoulders hard then, not caring if it hurt. He wanted to drive a point home, save something inside that poor wretched soul.
"I'll always be your friend. You told me you don't need a surrogate brother. I won't try to be one. But I give you my word. My friendship can stand whatever test you throw at me."
And Joe smiled a half smile. In the darkness, Michel could see those lifeless eyes brimmed. "Thank you. Now, please take me back."
""What's those buildings over there?" Joe queried when they were in the car, about to drive off.
"Houses, newly built but not much takers since this is such an isolated place. We might not have the field to ourselves anymore in future." Michel answered as he started the ignition. He had wanted to buy a house from that new project, the price was right and it would be close to his field. He had even picked the best unit, one that overlooked the field and had an unblocked view of the night sky. It was also slightly further away from the rest, tucked in one corner, so it would be darker there, easier to see stars with.
As he drove past the new houses, Joe pointed to the exact same one he had in mind. "That will be the best one."
"I thought so too." Michel answered.
Joe laughed softly. "I hope you don't fight with me for that unit. I really want it. I'll hide it from the world any way I could just so I can have time to save and buy it. It's so close to the stars, just like the field."
Michel simply smiled and shook his head; driving off, glad for the redeemed closeness between him and Joe.
Chapter 17
Frank saw what he was waiting for around 0020 hrs. The intruder alert signal was blinking like crazy, someone was trying to break into his system.
Since he pestered, threatened and enticed his technical staff and researchers to come up with an almost hacker proof system, nobody ever made it pass the initial security. There were a few stages of security levels that a hacker must pass through before they could consider themselves hacking into Maximillian Enterprise. Frank tried himself once and only managed to make it pass the second stage. This intruder was cracking down the 2nd level with relative ease.
Sean Brines. Second to none, that's how you jested before you got caught by the FBI. I see your skills have improved.
He received an email, wondering how it got there, how the intruder knew about his email address. He then realized that Sean Brines must had made it pass the 2nd stage and had managed to crack into the company's emails accounts.
By the time you read this, your system had been already hacked. Good day.
Sitting up, Frank was a little afraid he was over his head. He had thought he could trace Sean's line through this method but then he realized that if Sean was as good as everybody claimed, Frank Hardy would be in for a tough time.
Especially when I'm not best.
The in house Trojan horse was working very hard but the hacker was faster and having a fantastic time, as far as Frank could tell. Frank then used his computer and a special program to counter hack the fellow, typing in what would appear to layman as gibberish with a ferocity that he was sure all his fingers would swell the next day.
The tug of war continued, neither side gaining any grounds against each other. While tracking, Frank added more commands to block the hacker. He too had to hack into the hacker's system which was very well guarded for a home system, if it was a home system. He glanced nervously at the popped up window on his computer- the IP address and the telephone line that was being used by the hacker was almost traced. But he was running out of time, soon, he would have to shut down the whole of Maximillian Enterprise System, take it off the internet and intranet, before the hacker could get into sensitive information.
However, the hacker seemed to be stuck, unable to unravel the passwords needed for the next stage he had to pass. The encryption was too sophisticated, too advance; something that Frank himself had not given the go-ahead to release into the market as he had no other forms of encryptions to replace it. Once in the market, all hackers could come together and it would be broken, though time was needed but Frank could not take the chance. He sat back, typing a little slower in triumphant. He heard the sweet sound of beeps. All the information he wanted was at hand. He had broken into the hacker's system as well and got the email address and he hoped he had not alerted the hacker's system. He was using newer programs that could stealthily bypass most intruders' alerts on firewalls available. However, he resisted the urge to send a little note over, not wanting to cause any alarm. He shut down the whole system, hoping that it would make the intruder think that he was succeeding. It would cost some money to put the system back on again, not to mention manpower but Frank felt it was worth it if it could lead them to Bob.
Why will I care about losing money at this point for the company?
But the truth is I do care. I do care about Maximillian though it brought me nothing but grief.
He picked up the phone; Michel would have to be informed immediately. He sensed some hostility and he suspected somehow it was because of Nancy. Sometimes, he felt that the tension between him and Michel was a little ridiculous, since they had worked so well together the last time.
"Don't Frank me! Joe would go along with me! He would just listen to my decisions! Why can't you..."
No, don't think about him anymore...there's closure...it's closed.
"Michel here..." a sleepy voice came over the phone.
"I found your guy. I'll give you his IP address and telephone number, use whichever you want to seek him. I'm too tired to check it out for you."
He could see Michel, in his mind, scrambling for a piece of paper and pencil. He could hear the sounds of someone pushing things away from a cluttered table and could imagine Michel's excitement.
If you're promoted, you got to treat me to Black Coffee. And please catch him before he cause any more harm to people close to me.
"I'm ready. Now, tell me."
JT>> He was close, but, well, he passed through 3 stages, he thought there's only 4 more to go before the system seemed to detect an intruder and shut down. The system's a little funny, unlike what we're used to now. He says he needs one more day.
Alpha>> No, only tonight. I issued a challenge, he lost.
JT>> Why are you so obsessed with Maximillian's System?
Alpha>> Because...just because.
-------Alpha left the chat room---------
Michel had booked a flight that would bring him to the London Municipal Airport, the nearest airport to the town he wanted to get to, Fairbanks, Nebraska. It was an unlikely place, that small little quiet town with less than a thousand inhabitants. But he had the address and he would have to try. He could call but he thought that paying the guy a visit would be much better.
It could be a wild goose chase.
But I have to risk it. There's nothing we can do here. We've been patrolling streets and no one had spotted him. And there's only so few of us.
The office was a little quiet with about 10 agents, including himself and Nancy, being mobilized to search for Bob and the rest, including Grey Man on another stint overseas, the same one as Fenton Hardy. But he knew Fenton Hardy would be back early, the rest of them would be occupied for quiet some time. There were only two others with general duties like paperwork and looking after intelligence and co-coordinating...things...Michel never understood what they co-coordinated but he knew that the Network had in recent years, shrunk in size.
Just as the terrorists' problem escalates. Great timing.
It was either due to the stringent requirements or the fact that it was difficult to recruit somebody into a life of secrecy. He ought to know that himself, he had experienced it first hand himself. His work ruined his marriage, broke his family. His wife had obtained full custody of his daughter and moved to Canada, remarried and sent him a letter telling him never to visit again. He was not one to take orders well, especially when it prevented him from seeing his daughter. He went over to Toronto, Canada in search of them only to find that she had moved again, whereabouts unknown.
Recalling the past brought a heaviness to his heart. He was in a good mood since his date with Nancy, even stopped brooding in those lonely nights for his chirpy little girl, but fact was fact, the reality was, not even a new love could replace the hollow in his heart when his daughter was taken away from him by the court.
And I'm protecting the country which justice system prevents me from seeing my daughter. My daughter. What a great irony. Now, maybe in some other country, I can probably just take my little Corrine home, steal all the money that Lilia took from me and still live like a free man.
"Hullo?" came the drowsy voice over the other line. It made no sense; Joe should be awake by now since it was already 11a.m. They had not gone out too late the other night. But Michel shrugged it off, thinking that Joe must have slept a little later.
"Joe, I won't be in town for a couple of days...and I want you though to keep exercising on your own and..."
Should I warn him about Bob?
"Take care of yourself, don't go out, don't pick up any calls from anyone who sound weird and if anything funny happened, call my mobile...you understand?"
"Hmm...ok...tired..."
"Ok, go back to sleep..." The phone disengaged immediately. Michel was a little hurt at being put down like that. "Brat." He spoke into the mouthpiece.
"Mic...you going to Fairbanks? You got leads?" Nancy strolled into his view; he felt his day brightened already.
"Yah...just checking it out. We need some clues to seek out Bob, find out if he's here already...it won't take too long."
Nancy gave him a hug that caught him by surprise and he was overjoyed. "Do you need me to come with you?"
"No need...you continue leading the team here...have you search all hotels, motels...?"
"Yes, but no suspicious characters or anything...but we're keeping a stake out...at some hotels randomly...there's just too little of us..."
Michel pulled Nancy away, though he hated to but he got a plane to catch and it was a two hours ride to the nearest airport. "Nan, just do your best, you'll be ok...and...please look after Joe...I got a nagging feeling..."
"I'll pop by when I can."
"Thanks." Michel was about to go off when Nancy pecked him on the cheeks.
"You better be back soon, I need a date for Frank's engagement party."
Floating, flying, cotton wool...
"No problemo I won't be long." He kissed Nancy back and loved it when she blushed.
"I can't send you to airport, I got some work to do...you'll be alright?"
"Yup...see you." He kissed her again on her forehead and she pushed him in the direction of the entrance of the Network office.
He took slow walk to the main road to grab a cab but there were many others fighting for cabs as well. Whatever taxis that passed his way were all filled and he was running out of time. He tried calling but the operator kept him on hold for a very long time. Just as he thought he was about to miss his flight, a black SUV pulled up. The window rolled down and he saw that it was Samantha.
"Hey, what brings you to Little Port?" Samantha asked him, her grey eyes flashing with curiosity.
"Oh, I...I had to meet someone here..." He was about to continue when Samantha pointed to his bag.
"Going somewhere? Need a lift to the train station?"
"No...actually...if you don't mind, could you send me to the airport?"
Samantha looked at her watch and smiled. "Alright, I guess Joe will not need me so soon, he's still sleeping and I had the servant bring up food to him. You shouldn't have taken him out until so late yesterday."
Michel gratefully climbed into the SUV which seemed like such a tough car for someone as sophisticated as her. She sensed his bafflement and gave him a very seductive smile.
"I like them manly...and rough...makes you feel like you got a dark side...you know...keeps me from becoming too predictable."
Michel nodded in amazement at the nurse. "You sure surprised me with your choice of cars...I wonder if your choice in men are the same."
She laughed and the laughter tinkled. "You're too young for me. I already got someone in mind."
Ahh...Fenton Hardy you old geezer...
"Who?"
She gave him a mysterious look and shook her head. "I'm not telling...it's...my secret...and his."
A Ha!.
Chapter 18
"Bye Lisa!" Marjory called after her friend had walked back to her dorm. She hated having to stay in campus, hated having to share toilets, kitchens, rooms. She had opted for a single room but there were only doubles available when she checked in and thus she had not choice but to take it. Even though she detested sharing facilities, anything was better than having to stay put at home and live in the constant, devouring fear that he would somehow do something to her again.
You're strong now Marjory and he's the weak one. He can't do anything to you now. Once a survivor, always a survivor. You're not as naïve as before.
She walked across the field and she knew beyond the slope that she was approaching would be her hall of residence. It was extremely quiet and deserted in the campus now as it was already the wee hours of the morning. She had been practicing with Lisa, another violinist, and they had been so engrossed that they lost track of time. Lisa's hall was very near the main campus, hers was still pretty far away.
Why did I have to move? I should have just dragged him out and dump him somewhere...dad's not around to stop me.
A pair of headlights shone into her face and she had to shield her eyes. Her heart pace quickened and she stood still, not knowing what to do. She should have accepted Lisa's offer of bunking over but she was too proud to do so. When the car passed her, she heard rowdy cries, loud metal music and shook her head.
I better walk faster...do I have my pepper spray with me? I'll never practice so hard again...I don't know campus can be so scary...
When she was reaching her hall, she felt her tenseness wear off. Suddenly, she felt a grip on her shoulders and she was about to scream when someone pressed a handkerchief into her face soaked with something smelly. The last thing she remembered before passing out was a black SUV parked in a distance and the smell of chlorine.
Stupid me...
"Nancy, is there anyway I can get Fenton? Please! Tell me!" Frank screamed into the phone. He felt like he had not done enough. His little sister had not gone back to her dorm the night before and when she did not show up for class as well, her concerned roommate called their house and Nigel immediately informed Frank. Frank had reported the matter to the police and he feared for the worse, that it was Bob who had got his hands on Marjory. The police had found nothing of interest near her hall and in her room and Frank almost tore off his hair deep in worry for her. But they had not found Bob and why would Bob want to take on a defenseless niece like Marjory who had not done anything to him? Bob should have came for him!
And there's always Joe. Any leads, any leads at all...
"Frank...what happened? What's wrong?" came Nancy's anxious voice over the line. Frank calmed himself down first and told Nancy about Marjory's disappearance.
"Are you in your office? I'll be there immediately." The phone went dead and Frank buried his head in his hands.
"Frank..." Hope knocked the door softly. It was already opened but Frank had not seen her walk in. He looked up and immediately stood up and walked over to her before pulling her into a fierce hug.
"Hope...I failed again...she's...she's so defenseless...what if...nothing can happen to her Hope, nothing..."
Hope stroked the back of his head and showered him with kisses. "They'll find her, she'll be alright..."
Frank stared at her with frightened eyes. "What if it's too late? I can't...I have to do something about it...he must not get to her."
"Frank! Where are you going?" Hope called after Frank who had grabbed his jacket and was storming out of the door.
"Frank!"
"Samantha, is Joe is in room?" Frank ran up the west wing stairs and spotted Samantha climbing down with a tray of uneaten food in her hands.
"Yes, he's still sleeping..." Samantha answered back, a little startled by Frank's appearance.
"At this time? He had a late night last night?" Frank stopped, his eyes piercing into Samantha's making her a little uncomfortable.
"I don't know...maybe...I was asleep but he was still in his room when I went to bed..." She replied, her eyes narrowed. "Is something wrong?"
"What time did you slept?" Frank asked her, gripping her shoulders so hard that his knuckles paled. Samantha, hindered by her tray, was unable to push away.
"Hey, you're hurting me. I think about 10 alright? I'm an early sleeper...he should be in his room all the time, let me go! And stay here, I'll go in with you after I put down the tray."
Frank noticed he was holding her a little too tight. Mumbling an apology, he raced to Joe's door and flung it open.
There he was, a pathetically thin figure underneath the blankets, sleeping a little too soundly. Frank drew open the curtains and let the sun shine onto Joe's face which showed signs of stirring. He then pulled the covers off, grabbed Joe by his t-shirt collar into a sitting position.
"What the...Frank? What are you doing here?" Joe rubbed his eyes and his expression of surprised changed when his vision cleared. "What did I do wrong now, brother?" He asked, too curtly for Frank's liking.
A fist landed on Joe's cheekbones, flinging Joe backwards on his bed. Samantha rushed into the room and tried to drag Frank away but Frank was too angry. Joe's expression caused Frank to think that Joe had anticipated Frank would come question him.
Because he had done it!
He shook Samantha roughly away and Samantha fell to the floor, her elbow hit the hard ground. Grabbing Joe by the collar again, he hollered into his brother's face.
"WHERE IS MARJORY? WHERE HAVE YOU TAKEN HER?"
Joe gave him a deadly stare and very steely replied, "I don't know. In your pockets?"
Frank raised his fist again but was stopped by Samantha who had crawled back to her feet and seeing the fist, rushed over to grab Frank's hand with all her might.
"He was here all the time! All the time alright! Look at him Frank! What can he do?" Samantha tried to yell some sense through Frank's anger and Frank lowered his fist. He knew she was right. Joe could not even walk properly. If he had wanted to do anything to Marjory, Marjory would more than likely overpower him or be too heavy for him to carry even if he had somehow knocked her unconscious. He was looking for a punching bag, and since Joe had raped Marjory before, he was the most likely punching bag.
And I shielded Marjory that night from him. An accomplice?
"If I find out you're behind her disappearance..." Frank began; his voice harsh even to his own ears.
"I'll slit my own throat when you do, just to save you the trouble." Joe glared lethally, defiantly at him.
Shaking Samantha off for the second time, he stormed out the way he got in.
"Are you ok Joe? I'll put some ointment on your cheek...it's going to be alright..." Samantha spoke in a motherly tone to Joe was still sitting up on his bed with the same expression, the same glare directed towards the opened door. Then the glare was gone, replaced by the achingly melancholy gaze..
She took a bottle of ointment from the medicine cabinet in Joe's bathroom and very gently applied it on his bruise cheek. "See, it won't hurt so much anymore...and the bruise will be gone..." When she was about to leave Joe's side, he grabbed her hands.
"Don't leave me." he spoke coarsely and looked at her in a strange funny way. "When I get hurt, she will hold me..."
She understood and pulled the young man into her embrace like how a mother would.
"I thought I'll find you here, Hope told me you ran off like a mad man." Nancy strolled up to him from her car. She had arrived just in time to see Frank coming out from the gates.
"I had to let off some steam." Frank muttered, kicking the curb. Nancy placed a calming hand on his shoulder.
"I hope you did not kill him, it can't be him."
"No, I bashed his pretty face." Frank replied sarcastically in a manner that made Nancy winced. He then turned to her. "Forget the useless Network. We'll find Bob ourselves."
"How?" Nancy enquired, "We have tried..."
Frank thought for a while. "We'll wait a day for Michel's phone call. I'm sure he'll call when he finds what he need...then we'll take it from there. By the time he's back...it's too late. Meanwhile, we can take another look at the hotels' records of guests, there's only 4 hotels and a few motels here in Barnett Bay and Little Port combined, I'm sure...since it's not peak season, we can find something."
Nancy nodded, though she knew it was a pretty futile move. The Network had checked through the records and found no suspicious names or customers. Bob might not even check into any hotels. But she would do anything to make Frank feel better.
"I never knew so many people visit Barnett Bay..." Frank scanned through the records of guests of all hotels to see if there was anything suspicious. They had returned to the Network branch and were seated at Nancy's desk. "You staked out at the hotels and found no signs of him?"
"None." Nancy replied. "Zilch."
"We can call everyone...but it'll be stupid...maybe he's not even in hotels...but he had no other properties in Barnett Bay...or anywhere near...it might not even be him...damn Nancy..." Frank threw the records across the table. Nancy stroked his hair.
"Don't be like this..."
"Nan, you know what Marjory's been through...I can't have her hurt again..." Frank voice was thick with anxiety and a heartache that broke Nancy's heart. She pulled the records closer to them and tried to get Frank thinking along with her.
"A hotel's a best bet for Bob to stay in, he's an Assassin, but from what I've seen, he's used to luxuries." Nancy deduced but Frank shook his head, almost in despair.
"But he had never been seen, unless he never leaves his hotel room..."
They looked at each other. Nancy wanted to kick herself, it was so obvious.
"The pits of room service..." Nancy joked. Frank smiled wanly at her.
"We'll go around ask if anyone in the hotel actually call for room service all day long!" Frank exclaimed but not in a happy way. It was done mockingly, a search for a needle out of a haystack. He was not confident of his own ridiculous and simplistic suggestions.
But Nancy thought a clue was better than no clue at all. "What are you waiting for? Let's go."
Chapter 19
Fairbanks, Nebraska was a small town, so small it made Barnett Bay looked like a whole country, Michel thought wryly to himself. Yet, in its quaintness and quietness, it had a strange romantic feel to it, some old, turn of the century feeling that one could not get in busy Barnett Bay.
He had traced the number and gotten the address, he only hoped he was not too late Armed with that a mug shot of the hacker from the FBI records, he was all set to comb the area for the guy. It was tough, trying to find the address and he finally found the house, forgotten, neglected and tucked away in a corner. He knocked the door twice. A lanky teenager of about 18 with a couple of days old stubble opened the door. Michel smiled to himself. He had hit jackpot.
"Sean Brines?"
The man eyed him suspiciously and was about to shut the door in his face when he flashed his phony card.
"FBI."
"Whaddya want from me? I don't know anything, happily living my life here, not cracking into your sucky website." Sean sat down opposite him and spoke wearily.
"I want to know about Bob Garland." Michel delved straight into the topic, hoping to catch Sean off guard. He threw Bob's picture on the coffee table. Sean's eyes flashed.
"Don't know who the hell he is." Sean moved a little funnily, bringing his left hand close to his side and Michel caught a glint of metal sticking out from Sean's pocket in that split second. He was quicker though. He took out his gun and pointed it at Sean's head.
"Don't play games with me, I'll shoot. You're an ex-convict with a gun, who are they going to believe? Now, drop your weapon, I just came for a few answers."
Sean bristled and spat on the floor. He drew out his gun and threw it aside. "Happy?"
Michel nodded. "Quite. Now, tell me about Bob Garland."
"I said I don't know..."
Michel cocked his gun. Sean was getting a little frightened; after all, he was just hacker who provided fake ID and passports from time to time. There was no point in losing his life over a customer.
"Ok, cool it, I'll tell you everything..."
"Good."
"How did you find me? I thought..."
"Yah, you tempered with our records, but you're not too smart...my friend's a better hacker...spotted you miles away in the internet." Michel grinned. Sean cursed and swore.
"Damn band of hackers, never trusted them!" he spat again and Michel waved gun threateningly.
"Out with it." He commanded brusquely.
"Bob Garland as you knew him, he's another name to me, we had dealings in the past...I swear I was being threatened...it's either that or my head...he tracked me down all the time because he said he told me too much...and I had to help him, but that was a couple of years ago. I was good with technology and some mobsters...you know...they fund me but I'm an independent worker. Bob, he was a different of mobster. He and his gang were crazy and we hacked into various companies taking out money and stuff...never been caught. He even ran off with my mother."
"Your mother?" Now Michel was getting a little intrigued.
"Yah, silly woman...saw him...liked these kind of men, she had flings with so many mobsters in her care that she just had to have a terrorist for kicks. She fell for him and left with him, I don't think they lasted but she never came back, not like she's always with me though."
"Oh...interesting...carry on..." Michel pitied the boy slightly. There seemed to be no love lost between mother and child.
"He came to me a couple of weeks ago...asked to fix him with a fake ID and a passport pronto. I was like...cool it man...and he made me do other things too...some hacking stuff...that part was easier, it was a home line...no firewalls, no anything...I got what he wanted."
"Elaborate...be quick about it too..." Michel was running a little out of patience. Sean still thought he could hide a little information.
"Ok...anyway, I tracked this user down for him...crazy guy...visiting suicide chat groups...are all terrorists bent on suicide? He was happy and made me give him a new identity, now, that takes time and some tweaking...trade secrets...and he now has a new name and a new past! Some dead guy I fiddled around with and in the records, he's now alive." Sean seemed to be relieving his past exploits.
Suicide chats...so he already got to Joe through that way...what's Joe's chat pal's name? Damn Joe for not telling me!
"Name! The name of the dead guy he now is!" Michel pressed urgently.
Sean clammed up and Michel knew the little weasel was thinking of making a deal.
"I tell you and you promise me not to arrest me. Or no deal..."
"I promise you."
The teenager thought a little deeper and shook his head. "He got his mob behind him! I tell you and they'll kill me..."
"He's not part of them anymore, I promise you that. If he gets close to them, he'll be killed by them. Why do you think he came to you alone and needed a new identity? Trust me, I won't arrest you. You've got my word. Either way, if you don't tell me, I'll just have to find out from another way..." He now pressed the gun to Sean's head. The direct contact with the cold nuzzle freaked the boy out.
"OK! OK...now, you promised! You're an FBI agent, honor and all the crap! The name's Danon Banks!"
"Good kid." Michel eased up. He looked at the kid and felt a little sorry for him. "Why get into this line? You should be out, schooling, dating girls..."
"Hey, don't get preachy and all the crap on me! You ain't the one with the crazy mother running off with different guys all the time and leaving me nothing! I did this to survive so I can open my own technological company next time...but things got out of hand you know? The money's good though."
Michel looked at the boy grimly. The boy was not beyond redemption but Michel had more urgent needs to attend to. He spotted a display case as he was about to leave the house. What he saw caused butterflies in his stomach, fire breathing kinds, kept him root for a moment. But in his moment of distraction, he did not notice Sean had very quickly lifted up a leg and kicked away his gun from his hand.
Stupid me! I'm so close!
Michel threw himself at Sean knocking the lean teenager to the ground. He felt something Sean reached behind him and too late he felt the butt of the gun slamming into his head.
Two hotels and 4 customers later, Nancy and Frank arrived at a nondescript hotel in the mid-section of Barnett Bay. It was a small white building with a swimming pool, a restaurant and lounge and not much else facilities. Walking up to the receptionist, Nancy smiled and used the same lies that got them to meet 2 very much involved couples on honeymoon, so much so that they did not even leave their rooms.
"Yes?" The receptionist this time was a handsome young man instead and Nancy was grateful for the eye-candy.
"I'm working for a magazine and I want to rate room service efficiency in hotels. I was wondering if you'll know of any guests who use room service very often for us to get a good gauge on this hotel's standard." Nancy flashed her brightest smile and flicked a hair a little flirtingly. The young man simply smiled strenuously.
"We do not divulge our guests actions..."
"Oh c'mon...it's just an article...if we give you a good review, you manager will be happy...hotel industries are facing a slump lately...you need all the good reviews you can get." Nancy cajoled and Frank nodded from behind his sunglasses. He had to dress incognito as most girls in Barnett Bay would recognize Frank Hardy.
Girls! Dress your best! You never know when you're going to meet the young, suave and rich Frank Hardy!
"Well..." The young man was still unfazed but he gazed a little longer at Frank. "I'll go get my manager...you can talk to him." He gave Frank a very friendly smile.
When he left, Nancy nudged Frank. "He likes you!"
Frank laughed and Nancy chuckled, glad to see him a little happier. "I have charms I don't know I did." Frank commented, amused. Nancy shook her head and socked him, just like old times when she caught a girl checking Frank out.
The manager, a portly man of about 40 and balding greeted them and practically told them the same answer. "We really can't, I'm sorry...you can ask any customers coming in and out of the hotel...I'm sure at least one will have some contact with our room-service..."
Nancy shook her head grimly. "That won't do...you see...we are doing a write up, a naughty one, to see which hotel offers friendly and efficient room service for honeymoon couples who just can't leave their hotel rooms...you know...the last thing they want would be to wait too long for their...energy replenisher...or be interrupted by an unfriendly face. So it must be someone who keep using room service, preferably all the guests you have who keep using room service so we can do a good gauge."
The manager looked at Nancy suspiciously. "What magazine is that?"
Without missing a heartbeat, Nancy took out a rather genuine card and said, "Marie Danes"
"No can do."
By this time, they were exasperated. In the two previous hotels, such security measures were secondary to free publicity. "Please, I'm just doing..."
Frank very gently steered Nancy away and took down his sunglasses. The manager saw his face and went into a slight shock. "Mr. Hardy! To what do we owe this pleasure?"
The young man behind the desk saw the scene too and stood opened mouth. Nancy giggled.
"Now, kind sir...you see...this is not only important to her...if you know what I mean..." he winked at him. "But if you let her get what she wants...I'll make sure I send a note of compliment to your director. I know him personally...and you don't have to worry about a thing at all...who knows...maybe you may even get a bonus...promotion... if not...that letter...might not be so nice...," Frank lied smoothly.
Nancy knew Frank influence could only go so far but his prestige and his wealth impressed people so much that they thought he could do anything. The manager nodded and guided Nancy to the desk. "Of course, I won't want to offend Mr. Hardy at all...come with me...I have the information here..."
Sifting through the customers' records, they came up with only one name, a man by the name of Danon Banks and both Nancy and Frank had a very good feeling, or bad feeling, depending on how one saw it, about it. But he had not ordered anything from last night onwards and the manager commented that maybe Mr. Danon was not that hungry.
They went up to the room, thanking the manager who thanked Frank profusely. Nancy knocked on the door and they waited. She knocked again, claiming room service and still no respond. Finally, Frank had enough of waiting and took out a lock pick. Nancy raised an eyebrow. He grinned sheepishly.
"I never go on an investigation without my lock pick. Cover me."
Nancy smiled and stood behind him while he worked the door. A few moments later, they heard a clicked and went in. The room was bare, the wardrobe was bare. The Danon guy had simply left. Frank rushed to an ashtray and sniffed at it.
"He did not quit smoking after all." He growled and then slammed his fist into the wall.
"DAMN!"
Nancy touched his hands as he rested his head against the wall.
"So what do we do now?" She asked him gently, trying to calm his nerves. Frank could always be calm if he was distracted by working his intelligence.
"Since they did not call him, no one saw him leave...we could not stake the hotels everyday...I guess...we just got to wait for Michel...but...I'll keep Hope safe though..."
And Joe. Will you protect Joe as well?
"Hope...Hope!" Frank quickly rushed for his mobile and Nancy knew he must be silently praying for history not to repeat itself.
"Hope! You're alright...just stay in the office...I know it's late...I'll come and fetch you home...alright?"
Turning to Nancy again, "We'll get him before he hurts anyone this time...we will." He seemed to be convincing himself, not Nancy. Nancy nodded and he pulled her into an embrace...for comfort and for something else.
Chapter 20
Fenton spotted his wheel-chair bound son in the airport with the brunette that he had dated flustered just as he was. He rushed over to Ben and Ben seemed shock to see his father.
"Dad!"
"Where have you gone for the past month?" Fenton demanded, he had no doubt that Ben was also informed about Marjory's disappearance. It was the middle of the night when he touched down; he wondered if Ben had taken the same transit plane with him.
"I was..." He glanced at the brunette which Fenton vaguely remembered as Regina. She smiled at Fenton but it was not a sweet shy smile of a girl who had met her boyfriend's father by chance, it was a smile to hide the fact that she was summing him up.
"Hello Fenton...your son's was getting married to me." Regina answered for Ben who gave Fenton a helpless shrug.
Fenton went red in his face. Besides Joe, Ben was another son of his which he had neglected because he was away all the time and could only share what he was doing with Frank. And Ben also was the eldest; parents gave their eldest the most independence.
Too much independence.
"I'll deal with you both later! We're going home now and find out in detail what happened to Marjory." Fenton led the way. Though he was in front of them in the noisy airport, he could still hear Regina's shrill voice over the din, talking to Ben.
"Probably some poor fool she offended in school. I'm not surprised at all..."
"Regina! Shh..."
"Alright...but only for your sake."
They shared a cab together and it was not a pleasant journey at all. Fenton on one hand was worried sick for his daughter. On the other hand, he was angry at his eldest son for getting married without informing anyone, and at himself for not taking the time to find out more about all his children's activities.
They have all grown up, they have their own thinking. What I did not do for them when they were children, I cannot do for them now.
Reaching the manor, he spotted Nancy but Frank was not there. He had informed Nancy and Frank to meet him there when Nancy managed to get him finally and he took the first flight available back.
"Dad, can I go wash up first?" Ben asked. Fenton shook his head.
"No, this is important. You both are sitting here and we'll discuss what the Ne...police... have found out. Where's Frank, Nancy?"
"He decided to stay with Hope, protect her or something..." There was a little tinge of unhappiness in Nancy's tone but Fenton ignored it for now. Frank's love life was Frank's problems to deal with. Right now, they have to find Marjory.
"You found out where Bob is?"
"Bob's here...but by the time we reach his hotel room, he was already gone. I have no idea where he could have gone."
Ben raised an eyebrow. Fenton had told the whole family that Bob was away on a prolonged vacation for his retirement and was never coming back. The whole deadly vial thing was kept under national classified files and thus, no one would know that Bob was actually arrested for terrorism.
"I thought he will be gone for a longer period of time...hope he does not bring back those yucky cigarettes..."
Fenton scowled at him and he shut up.
"We suspect Bob is the kidnapper. He...he ran into some financial problems and...have to resort to these means to extort money...he actually called Frank on his mobile...asked for the ransom." Nancy tried to sound as convincing as she could.
"Yes, actually, he went for an early retirement because he committed some fraud against the company, Frank did not expose him and asked him to get as far away from us as possible. He did things that were not very nice. I would have thought it was him as well." Fenton played along.
"Is there anything that you guys aren't telling me?" Ben asked, exasperated at all the missing loopholes. Regina shushed him.
"Honey, let them continue, they never tell you anything, anyway..."
Ben raised his hands in mock surrender as his new wife stroked his hair. "I need some water...does anyone need some water?"
Fenton suddenly felt very thirsty. It was late and thus the servants were all asleep in their quarters. Regina kissed her husband and went to fetch everyone a glass of water, and Fenton could see Ben raised an eyebrow in surprise. They, with the exception of Ben, who gulped down the whole glass, took a mouthful or two of water before continuing, thankful for the break.
"So...what we're saying is...if Bob approaches anyone of you, don't talk to him and call the police and us...Ben?" Fenton ordered firmly.
"I feel oozy." His eldest son head lolled back as his eyes started closing.
Fenton felt a little drowsy himself and had to steady himself. He looked at the glass of water and noticed Nancy's eyes flashing before she started staggering as well.
"Son...it's drugged..." He managed before seeing Ben fall into comatose state. Regina collapsed soon after Ben did and Nancy followed suit.
Before Fenton's eyes closed, he thought he could make up a blond figure creeping up to them with a gun. His last thoughts before he passed out on the sofa were that it was too thin to be Bob.
Michel woke up with a major splitting headache. He gingerly felt the back of his head and felt crusted blood. Wincing, he tried to stand up and found himself in a small, unkempt house.
And he remembered where he was and why he was there. He quickly checked his wallet, his money was still there, everything was intact but the kid was gone. Even his gun was still where Sean had kicked it. Looking at the time, he realized he had passed out for a day or so. Sean had not wanted to kill an FBI agent, he just needed time to plan his escape. If Michel was to check, he knew he would find the computer and equipment for forgery all gone.
Stepping out of the house giddily, he knew the first thing he must do was to get back to Barnett Bay and warn the Hardys, and pray that he was not too late.
"I can't sleep and I don't feel refreshed though I'm supposed to have slept."
Drugs? Hypnotism? Joe, if only I had known...
When he went out, he noticed that his rented car was gone. It caused him some money before he found someone who could take him to the airport.
You're not mad Joe, I don't think you are...yet. Please...be safe...and sane.
Michel dialed Nancy's number several time on his mobile but he could not get her. He dialed Frank's too and got no answer. It was getting frustrating and did not bode well. And he tried the Hardy's manor. Again he met with prolonged ringing tone that got his heart beating faster and faster.
The next earliest flight that he could take would only take him to back to Barnett Bay tomorrow night so he was actually behind in his investigations by two days. He dialed everyone's mobile and gotten an agent to check the Hardy's manor.
The only thing he could do then was to wait.