Frank swallowed hard, and immediately regretted it as he felt the razor-sharp blade of the knife bite into his Adam's apple. He breathed in deeply, trying to reason with both terror and helplessness, which were struggling to arise in his chest amidst the erratic poundings of his heart. He had absolutely no doubt that whoever was holding a knife against his throat was the same guy who attacked them last night. There was no mistaking the over-powering stench of perfume oozing from the guy, the same stench he'd smelt on him the night before. But unlike then, there was no one to save him now.

Frank reached for the driver's door. "Not there. Get in the passenger side." Damn, Frank thought as his would-be abductor prodded him over to the other side of the van. Frank was hoping to jump the guy but apparently he was no fool. Frank was then forced to scoot over to the driver's side and the ski-masked man slid into the passenger's seat that Frank had just vacated, thrusting out the knife toward the elder Hardy. "Don't you try anything stupid."

"What do you want from me?" Frank's voice sounded hollow and he dropped his gaze to his lap, as if defeated. With lightning speed, his assailant snaked out a hand and grabbed the cell phone off which Frank had been surreptitiously eyeing off the floor. Again Frank cursed silently.

"I know what you're thinking smart boy. But you know what? I'm way smarter than you. Now drive," he growled. Though his ski mask muffled his voice a little but it sounded strange. It was not particularly the voice, but something else...He must be from out-of-town, Frank thought, swallowing again as fear rose in his throat. He knew what this guy was capable of. How the hell am I going to get out of this one? Am I going to die tonight? Though his movements were calm and controlled, the wheels in his mind were racing with each other, each trying to come up with an escape plan.

Frank drove in silence past gloomy-looking houses, the dark, deserted stretch of road giving the whole neighbourhood an aura of mysterious, not to mention down-right spooky ambiance. He might as well just do away with me now, Frank thought. It's not as if anyone's going to notice, painfully aware of the tip of the knife poking through the side of his shirt, threatening to penetrate the fragile layer of his skin.

"Where are we going?"

"Just shut up and drive. We're going to have some fun tonight, you and me." Frank's breath caught in his throat as he suddenly felt the icy-cold blade trace down the side of his face, as cold as the ball of fear gripping his heart.

No, there's still a chance, Frank told himself stubbornly as he reached up to fasten his seatbelt, aware of the guy's intense gaze watching his every move with great caution. Until I'm dead, there is still a chance. Frank had no doubt that the guy would kill him, like he did the other kids. All Frank had to do was make sure he didn't die without a fight.

"Can we stop now?" Joe requested. Tessa placed her hands on her hips and studied him slouching in the chair.

"What's the matter, Joe? You look distracted. And I can tell that you have barely paid any attention since we started," she said with a frown.

"I did pay attention."

"Oh then explain to me about the Avogadro theories."

"Umm, that for every action in a system there's an opposite reaction to it?" Joe answered uncertainly. Tessa sighed in resignation.

Oops, Joe thought sheepishly. True, he had been distracted since the very beginning but honestly Joe himself couldn't tell why. Something was relentlessly nagging at the back of his mind, tugging at the core of his brain, demanding his attention and stealing his concentration. If only Joe could figure out what it was. At first Joe wanted to just discard the feeling, but through his past experience he'd learnt to rely heavily on his instincts and this time his instincts were telling him that something was wrong. Dreadfully wrong.

Joe smiled weakly at Tessa as she bent to close the open book in front of him. Great going, Joe. There's a gorgeous girl who's perfectly willing to tutor you and you're day-dreaming. Or rather, night-dreaming, he thought, throwing a look out the window of the study. Black night sky camouflaged almost everything; it was so dark.

"I'm sorry, Tess, I, ah... " Joe fidgeted uneasily. Something is definitely wrong, he thought frantically at the intensity of the bad feeling, which was gnawing at his heart, churning in his stomach. Could it be-? No, Frank said that he was going straight back home so nothing would happen...or would it? Joe began to feel sweat forming on his forehead. Tessa was saying something, but he was not listening to her words at all. His sixth sense was repeating the same word over and over; dangerdangerdangerdangerdanger

Joe Hardy sensed danger. And he didn't find it pleasant at all.

Frank glanced surreptitiously at the guy sitting next to him out of the corner of his eye. They had been driving for over 5 minutes now and still he hadn't said anything, only leaning against the passenger door and staring at him with a look of contempt through the icy-cold eyes hidden behind the mask. Frank could feel the glare burning into him like acid corroding through skin.

The silence between was suddenly broken when Frank's kidnapper launched into a song. He sang softly under his breath and though Frank couldn't hear most of it, he couldn't help feeling the icy chill running down his back as he recognized the tune. Damn. So this is the modus operandi. Sing oldies and then you kill. Strange, Frank thought. Under a different circumstance, Frank would have found it funny. But he knew there was nothing funny about getting impaled with a scalpel or a surgical knife.

When they reached the junction, the guy, still singing the wiggly-tailed doggie song, pointed with his knife to the left. He's taking me to town, Frank realized with a sinking heart. My guess is he's taking me to a hotel. Here goes, Frank thought as he made a left turn, swallowing hard.

Frank nearly jumped out of his skin when the phone in the kidnapper's hand suddenly rang.

"Hmm, Joe..." he read the Caller ID out loud. "Who's Joe?"

Frank bit his lips, unsure of what to say. The phone kept on ringing and ringing and at that moment, Frank would have given anything to answer the phone.

"Wait, don't tell me...I know! He's your brother, right?"

How did he know that? Frank wondered as a cold chill ran down his back. Please don't tell me he's after Joe too. Please, anything but that. At last the incessant ringing stopped. A few seconds later, it rang again. The guy let it ring for a few minutes then eventually it stopped. The van barely moved a few feet when it rang again.

"Hmm..." the guy said again, frowning in displeasure. "Maybe I should go after this brother of yours...seems like he's not the kind to give up easily. I bet he's going to last the longest."

Frank felt fury boiling in him like acid. "You leave my brother alone, you-"

"Don't worry, Frank. I'll let you go first then only I'll let Joe have his turn. How about that?"

"You touch my brother and I'll-" Frank hissed angrily.

"You'll do nothing. If you were so smart you would have seen a long time ago that you are not exactly in the position to do anything, except of course-" he shrugged, "-die. You can't do anything to me."

"I can do THIS!!!"

Frank suddenly stepped hard on the brake, and the tires screeched painfully, but nothing was more painful than the cracking sound that the knife-wielding guy's head made as it slammed against the windshield. Score one for Hardy, Frank thought joyously and with lightning speed, he released his seatbelt, twisted sideways, grabbed the disoriented kidnapper by the lapel of his jacket, slammed him against the passenger door, grabbed the knife in one quick motion and held it against the guy's throat; all done in less than 5 seconds. Ha!! Score two for Hardy! Frank thought, giving himself a mental high-five.

Now time for score three, Frank thought grimly, reaching for the mask.

I'm going to uncover a murderer.

Frank's fingers curled around the bottom of the woollen disguise.

The moment of truth. You are going dow-

HOONNNNKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

For a split second, Frank was so taken by surprise his body jerked, completely startled. And in that split second, the abductor sprang to life, and gave Frank a quick, fast chop on the arm. The knife tumbled out of Frank's grasp and dropped onto the floor. Thinking quickly, Frank pushed it under the driver's seat with the tip of his shoe.

"Damn!!" Frank looked up just to a big, meaty fist rocketing toward his face, and the next thing he knew, a devastating punch landed on his jaw, sending him slamming against the window. For a few seconds, Frank could only see stars. Don't black out, Hardy, don't black out...

HOOOOOOONNNNNNNNKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!

The sudden blare of car horn was so loud that it jolted Frank back to reality. Dazed, he groaned loudly when he heard the unmistakable sound of the passenger door opening and slamming shut.

No, I won't let him get away! Frank thought frantically. He fumbled with the door, but all the cars started honking, and that combined with the fierce poundings in his head, and the explosion of stars in front of his eyes, it made Frank want to pass out all over again.

He peered out through the side window blearily; his vision clearing just enough to let him see the guy run through the direct flow of traffic, miraculously missing getting hit more than twice. There was no way to catch him now.

Frank cursed loudly and slammed a fist against the steering wheel. Though shaken as he was, Frank couldn't help thinking that he could have done something. I could have taken that guy, Frank thought angrily. Now he's loose again.

"He's not answering." Joe hung up the phone, a perplexed look on his face. Tessa laid a hand on his arm. She couldn't understand what Joe was so worried about.

"Joe, why are you so worried about Frank? Isn't he big enough to take care of himself?" She asked the same question she'd been badgering Joe with since they had stopped revising. Joe was practically restless with anxiety, pacing up and down the study. And now he was pacing again, faster this time, so fast that Tessa could literally see the red in the carpet turning orange.

"Of course he is, but-" Joe shook his head and went on with his pacing. There was still two hours to go before 11, and Joe didn't think he could stand waiting for 2 hours to know if something had indeed happened to Frank. The fact that Frank was not answering his calls terrified him even more. Something was wrong. He could feel it. Oh my God, what if the killer got to him? Joe thought in horror, bile rising in his throat. What if-

"Hey, Joe, relax..." Tessa had taken hold of his arm and was leading him to the sofa. "Sit."

"Now tell me what's wrong." Joe took a deep breath. Then he started to talk.

Joe told her everything from the start, that they were investigators, about the case they were working on, the murders, and his fear for Frank. Tessa's face changed, her lips beginning to tremble.

"What about Craig?" she asked tearfully.

Joe let out a sigh. Craig was still missing and truthfully he didn't know what to say to her. Except the fact that he personally thought that her missing friend was most probably dead. But he didn't need to say it. It was written all over his face.

"He's dead, isn't he?" Tears started filling her eyes and she drew back, her small shoulders hunched together as she hitched a sob.

"I don't know," Joe whispered, looking down at his feet. "I just don't know..." Frank. Is Frank dead too?

Then suddenly the doorbell rang. Joe marched to the front door, his strides big and long, ignoring the little voice in his head warning him to be careful; it could be anybody.

"Frank!!! Oh thank God..." Joe exclaimed happily, breaking into a big grin when he opened the door. Then his smile faded.

"What the hell happened?" he gasped. Tessa who had joined him at the door gasped too.

Frank was standing at the door, his face so swollen his left eye was almost shut. A large bruise, which was quickly turning to purple adorned one side of his face. "Hey, bro," he said wryly.

"Who did that?" Joe asked furiously, his fingers balling into big fists involuntarily.

"Aren't you at least going to let me come in first?"

"Oh, sure, uh, come in," Tessa stammered, letting Frank in. Then she turned and headed for the kitchen. "I'll, uh, get some ice for your face." Frank had to smile at her wince as she took a look at his face again.

Now that he was alone with his brother, Frank began to tell him everything. Joe's face had started paling when Frank told him he was jumped after dropping him off, and as Frank relayed the rest of the story, Joe was positively white.

"Hey," Frank said gently after he'd finished telling his brother what had happened. Tessa had quietly returned and now Frank was holding an ice pack against his swollen jaw. Joe was as still as a statue, his face a mask of horror. "You okay, Joe? Breathe, will you? You're scaring me."

"I knew it..." Joe whispered. "I knew something had happened..."

"How did you-"

"Just a bad feeling, a strong one." Joe shook his head in disbelief. "This is the second he'd come after you, Frank. I think we need to notify the police, and-and Dad, and you should be guarded 24 hours a day-"

"Hey, Joe, relax. We'll notify the police later, okay? Now I just feel like falling into bed and feeling sorry for myself. The prospect of me going out on dates for the rest of the year had suddenly plunged to zero."

"How can you even joke about this?" Joe blew up angrily, shooting out of his seat and resumed his previous pacing. "Your life is in danger, Frank!"

Frank rolled his eyes. "You think I don't know that? But at least I'm keeping a cool head about it. It's better that way."

"Well, it's not going to be any better if you suddenly found yourself WITHOUT a head to keep cool anymore, is it, Frank?" Joe retorted. Tessa was watching the argument intently. She could see how Joe really cared for his brother. She couldn't help admiring him for it.

Frank shook his head. "Come, I'll take you home. You're angry, you're agitated and there's no way you're going to be of any use to Tessa tonight. Mind if you guys finish the class a little early today?"

"No, of course not," Tessa said hurriedly. She locked eyes with Joe. "I, ah...have something else to do anyway." Secretly Tessa grabbed Joe's hand and gave it a squeeze. Joe looked up in surprise.

"Take Frank home. He needs the rest." Joe nodded silently. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

Joe broke into a small smile. "Yeah." Then he walked out the door.

She watched as the brothers walked down the driveway heading toward their van. She watched as Frank sling an arm around his brother's shoulders. She watched as Frank ruffled the back of Joe's head affectionately. Then her face broke into a smile. Good thing they're as close as brothers can get, she thought. Or else, Frank would have a tougher time going through this. But she wondered if their closeness was strong enough to keep Frank from falling into the killer's hands.. Tessa had a strong feeling that the killer was going to strike again and this time someone was definitely bound to get hurt.

"So how are things with Tessa? And have you made up with Vanessa yet?"

"Fine. No." Joe's voice was curt and hard.

"So what did you learn today?" Frank tried to strike up a conversation. Again. This was his third attempt. Either Joe would answer his questions with one-word answers or he wouldn't answer at all.

"Things," Joe muttered. Frank turned to look at his brother in exasperation. He hated it when Joe was in one of his moods; there was nothing he hated more than his brother was being unreasonably, pig-headedly uncommunicative. Well, except maybe being trapped in a cramped vehicle with a lunatic with a knife.

"Come on, Joe, what the hell's wrong with you? Why are you so quiet?"

Joe said nothing; he just glared at his brother.

Frank shook his head. Then suddenly he wrenched the van in a U-turn and instead of going forward to their house, which was just a few meters away, he turned back, heading toward town.

Joe remained silent throughout the ride, not the least bit curious as to where Frank was taking them. All he cared about was how close he'd come to losing his brother for the second time. And he was angry at the way Frank was being oh-so-casual about it, as if this thing happened every day. Doesn't he realize the danger he's in? Joe thought angrily, huffing when Frank started whistling along with the radio. Joe knew that unlike him, Frank tended to always be cool under pressure and sometimes infuriatingly so. But this is too much!!! Joe closed his eyes when Frank started banging the heels of his hands on the steering wheel in time with the music.

Doesn't he see that it's going to kill me if I lose him?

"Alright Joe, we're here."

Joe shook his head as he followed Frank into the pizza parlour. Of all the places, Joe didn't expect Frank to bring them to a restaurant.

"Sit." Joe sat at the counter.

Frank sat down next to him. A waiter came over.

"So what do you want?"

Joe shrugged.

"Come on. My treat," Frank said generously.

"Pepperoni."

"Alright, give me one slice of vegetarian pizza and two slices of pepperoni for my brother here and two sodas, please," Frank said and after the waiter left, he turned his head sideways, studying his brother closely. After a while, Frank began to speak.

"Come on, Joe. Tell me what's wrong," Frank said gently.

Joe hung his head low. Guess it's time for another heart-to-heart talk, he thought. We seem to have a lot of that lately.

Joe buried his face in his hands, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Nothing."

"I know there's something troubling you. And I think I know what it is," Frank said casually, smiling his thanks as a waitress brought their orders.

"Then why ask?" Joe asked dully.

Frank took a deep breath. "Because I'm scared too."

Joe looked sharply at his brother, his food left untouched.

"Some people hide their sadness behind smiles and laughter. And that's also what some people do with fear." Joe still wasn't satisfied.

"You shouldn't hide fear, Frank. Not from people who care about you."

Frank felt a lump rise in his throat. He watched the emotions play across Joe's drawn face; he realized just how scared Joe was. Probably more scared than Frank himself. Guilt washed over him. His nightmare had taught him one thing; he didn't need Joe dying to make him realize how much he loved his little brother, he loved Joe all the same no matter what. Joe was his brother. And he was Joe's.

"I'm so scared, Frank," Joe whispered. "The thought of that killer going after you-" Joe couldn't bring himself to finish his sentence. He just shook his head and stared down at his now-cold pizza.

Frank laid a comforting hand on his brother's rigid shoulder.

"Didn't I tell you that I would always be there for you, Joe? I'm not going anywhere. And neither are you. I told you once and I'll tell you again. I'm going to protect you until my last breath," Frank said, referring to their conversation in the cabin, when Frank had just woken up from his terrible nightmare.

v"And I know you will do the same for me too. And if something happens to me, or to you, we will go through it together like we always do."

"And what if that something happens to be death?" Joe's voice was a barely whisper. Frank froze. He didn't expect Joe to ask that question. It was like a slap in the face; powerful and unexpected. "What will we do then?"

When Frank didn't answer, Joe began to laugh softly. Frank stared at his brother in amazement. Joe is really impossible to understand; one minute he's moping and the other he's laughing.

"See? You can't answer that," Joe said, his blue eyes filled with sorrow despite his chuckles. "You can't promise me anything, Frank. We can't cheat death. No one can."

Then the Hardys shared a moment of intimate silence like they always did. It was a moment when they felt truly content with each other's company, a moment when they felt the closest to each other, a moment when the love and understanding were so profound that they were almost palpable. No words were needed. Only silence.

"And you call yourself smart?"

He shrugged. "Hardy's not going anywhere. I can always get him tomorrow."

"Oh no, you won't."

"What do you mean?"

"You see that?"

He looked at the empty glass on the table. An empty Coke can sat next to it.

"Yeah, so?"

"I tested my alchemy skills on you, sugar. The purest, rarest form of poison made from verusa roots, dragon's tail and a type of root only found in the deep jungles of Borneo. You're going to die in about-oh, 10 seconds ago."

A burning pain suddenly seized his chest; hot liquid fire coursed through his every nerve. In agony he dropped to the floor and screamed as the poison made his way into his system, penetrating every stage of the body's defence mechanisms, scorching every limb and every sinew in his body. He screamed and screamed as his body jerked spasmodically like a puppet tied to hundreds of strings pulled in hundreds of different directions.

"Actually, it's just wash detergent plus some rat poison plus some gasoline...just a little drop was enough actually, it is that powerful. Planning to use on Frank Hardy but since he's NOT HERE," a sharp boot kicked hard into his side, "-then I guess you'll do."

He screamed again but this time no sound reverberated from his vocal cords. His pain-racked face locked in a silent scream; he thrashed and writhed in agony for half an hour. And then his whole body went still.