Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

Sam Radley crouched in the underbrush, confident that between his camouflage clothing and the dense tree line, his presence was well concealed. He checked his watch and then raised the binoculars to his eyes, slowly scanning the gravel road in the distance. As soon as they’d heard the plans for the theft, Collig had sent a team of officers to survey the area and report back with the most likely place a car would wait. This was the only place a quarter of a mile south of the tracks that had access to the train but was still well hidden. Since the men hadn’t been any more specific than this when discussing their plans, Sam could only hope the police hadn’t missed anything more remote. If so they couldn’t put the second half of their own plan into action. Once the men with Frank were captured and the others realized something had gone wrong, Joe would more than likely be killed. Sam quickly shook off that thought and settled back against the tree to wait.

It was only a few moments later when Sam heard the sound of a car approaching. He lifted the binoculars again even as he melted further into the brush, quickly spotting the car. Two men were in the front seat with Joe alone in the back. By the way he was sitting, pitched slightly forward, Sam surmised his hands were bound behind his back. Adjusting the powerful binoculars, Sam zeroed in on the leather strap around Joe’s neck – and the bomb attached to it. He stared at it for a moment, trying to judge how easy, or difficult, it would be to disarm it, finally giving up when he realized he couldn’t see much detail from this distance. Lowering the binoculars, he checked his watch. Right on time, a train whistled in the distance. Sam smiled and reached for the small duffel bag on the ground next to him. ‘Time for a little distraction…’

*****

Joe shifted as much as he could in the backseat of the car, virtually ignored by the two men in the front seat. The muscles in his upper back were starting to cramp. With his hands tied behind him they’d been held immobile for almost four hours. He tried rolling his shoulders to loosen them up a little but the small movement didn’t help much. Letting his gaze wander, he stared out the window thinking, with more than a little irony, what a beautiful day it was. The sky was a striking shade of blue with the sun high in the sky, blocked only by the occasional passing of a white fluffy cloud. With the windows rolled down, he could hear the birds singing and, if he listened closely enough, the skittering of the small animals.

Settling back against the seat as best he could, Joe wondered how Frank was doing and hoped he’d found some way to escape or at least signal for help. On the drive over Joe had hoped someone would notice him, maybe be struck by the unnatural way he was sitting in the car or the piece of leather around his neck. But no one did. He began trying to surreptitiously catch the eye of people in passing cars without being caught himself. Staring at the other drivers at stoplights he hoped they’d ‘feel’ the weight of his stare. If only someone had turned to look at him – just one person! – he was certain he could have somehow communicated that he needed help. Joe was disheartened to find that between talking on their cell phones, to other people in the car, singing along to the radio or just being lost in their own thoughts, not one person even gave him a cursory glance. He’d felt invisible – and discouraged.

Now staring out the window and seeing nothing but trees and underbrush, Joe realized that had been preferable to just sitting here, isolated, waiting…wondering…remembering. Suddenly Keith Rashman’s face loomed up in front of him. He shivered, almost feeling the cold water being dumped over his head.

“When leather dries…it shrinks.”

Joe swallowed hard, trying to quash the emotions welling up inside him. With his nerves on overload, he was acutely aware of the leather, soft against his skin and despite knowing it wasn’t possible, he swore it was getting tighter.

Feeling himself quickly spiraling out of control, Joe forced himself to picture Frank kneeling in front of him, talking to him, giving him the lifeline he needed.

“Think about Vanessa, the wedding, the honeymoon – and breathe. Slow and easy… just relax and breathe…that’s it…”

Joe latched onto his brother’s advice and held on tight. He took a deep breath in and slowly exhaled, repeating the words to himself as he tried to slow his racing heart. Slowly he realized Frank was right. It had been thoughts of Vanessa that kept him holding on through his nightmare with Rashman. He’d focused on her, on their memories together and the future they were planning; it was what had kept him alive until Frank and Fenton arrived. ‘If it worked once…’ he thought hopefully.

Another deep breath and he focused in on their honeymoon plans. He’d insisted on making all the arrangements himself, wanting Vanessa to be surprised. She knew where they were going – Cat Island in the Bahamas – as she’d chosen the destination herself, but beyond that Joe had kept her in the dark. Closing his eyes, Joe pictured the checklist he had in his desk at work, reviewing what he’d already done and what he still needed to do.

‘Okay, the villa she wanted is reserved. Three-sixty view of the island, private road, access to our own private beach, staff only shows up if we call them. She wants to swim with dolphins…better check on reservations for that when I get back; see if I need to make them now.

‘What else did she want to do…snorkeling. We can either take a boat out with a group tour or snorkel right off the beach. Jet ski’s are already at the villa. Parasailing…do we need reservations for that? Maybe one day we could rent a boat and just go exploring. Better check out a map of the area now, though. It would be so not cool for me to get us lost out in the ocean on our honeymoon!’

A sound in the distance quickly brought Joe back to the present and made his blood run cold – a train whistle. The man in the passenger seat, the leader, turned and smiled at him. “Won’t be long now.”

Joe glared and was about to respond when there was a loud pop from the woods just to their right. Birds cried out in surprise and a chorus of fluttering wings signaled their flight for safety. Joe immediately snapped his head to the right, as did the two men in the front. Suddenly the woods that only seconds earlier were alive with sound were deathly quiet. A tense silence filled the car.

“That sounded like a gunshot!” the driver finally said in a hushed voice.

Three sets of eyes scanned the tree line, looking for any sign of movement but saw nothing.

“Only a few yards away,” the leader murmured. “Too close to be one of our men.”

The two looked at each other and then turned and stared at Joe. “Don’t look at me! I don’t know what it was!” he responded, though his curiosity was piqued.

The leader looked at the driver. “Go check it out.” The other man nodded and got out of the car. Gun drawn, he slowly approached the direction the sound had come from and then disappeared into the trees.

A minute passed in silence, then another and another. Joe could tell by the way he was fidgeting that the man in front of him was getting nervous. Finally he pulled a cell phone from his pocket and flipped it open, pressing one button.

“Cower?” He waited a few seconds for a response and when none came, he tried again. “Cower! What’s going on?”

He waited another minute then tried one more time. “Cower!” Still getting no answer, the man turned and glared at Joe. “I hope your brother isn’t trying to play hero. If so, he’s severely underestimated us.” He held up his cell phone and pointed it at the strap around Joe’s neck. “I can detonate that by remote and even have the pleasure of watching you die. It’s powerful enough to blow your head off without causing much collateral damage.”

Joe hid the fear that spiked inside him. It might not be Frank, but he was certain someone trying to get him out of this mess was responsible for the gunshot and the first man’s apparent disappearance. As if in confirmation, Joe saw movement out of the corner of his eye. His gut instinct told him not to move, not to acknowledge what he saw, so he sat, never taking his eyes off the man in front of him.

“You said this thing would only go off if the other bomb didn’t. That was a lie,” Joe stated trying to keep the man occupied and buy time for whoever was out there. “So did you lie about not being able to stop it, too?”

The man said nothing. He simply stared into Joe’s eyes and smiled, letting his expression say it all.

“Bastard,” Joe spat out.

The man just laughed, letting his guard down for a few seconds but that’s all it took. A figure suddenly loomed up next to the open passenger window. An arm snaked inside and the barrel of a gun was pressed firmly against the back of the man’s head. “Move and you’re dead.”

‘Thank God,’ Joe thought at the familiar voice, but couldn’t feel any relief just yet. “Sam, the phone!” he cried out.

With lightning quick reflexes, Sam’s hand flashed out and grabbed the phone, shoving it in his pocket. “Now, both hands on the dashboard where I can see them,” Sam ordered, his gun never wavering.

Joe watched nervously as the man did as he was told, glaring at Joe murderously over his shoulder.

“I’m going to open the door,” Sam continued. “You’re going to get out, move five feet away from the car, lie face down on the ground and put your hands behind your head. Got it?”

The man nodded angrily and Joe looked on, a little awed. It was rare he got to see Sam in action and was impressed. Sam’s voice was natural and easy, as if he were ordering lunch at the local fast food restaurant, but his tone said he’d pull the trigger in a heartbeat if he wasn’t obeyed.

With a final scathing look in Joe’s direction the man slowly got out of the car. Sam stood just far enough away as to be out of reach but close enough to deliver a fatal shot if necessary. Joe continued watching nervously as the man slowly dropped to his knees and then to his stomach. Lacing his hands behind his neck, the man turned his head towards Joe.

Joe held his breath as Sam grabbed one of the man’s arms and snapped a handcuff on it. He pulled it down and grabbed the other arm. As Sam cuffed his wrists together, the man addressed him, though his eyes were locked on Joe. “You just made a huge mistake.”

“Shut up,” Sam ordered as he pulled a bandana from his back pocket and shoved it into the man’s mouth, tying it tightly behind his head. Finally, Sam looked up, focusing all his attention on Joe as he hurried towards the car.

As Sam approached Joe spoke rapidly, the words tumbling out in a rush. “The bomb! They can detonate it by phone! The other guy…if he gets loose he can…he can…” Joe stopped, unable to finish.

Sam reached into another pocket, pulled out a cell phone and held it up, grinning. “Don’t forget, I’ve been doing this almost longer than you’ve been alive.”

Immediately Joe’s cheeks flushed red. “Sorry,” he mumbled with an embarrassed smile.

“That’s okay,” Sam said easily. “You’re a little stressed at the moment.”

“Ya think?” Joe replied, his sense of humor resurfacing. Sam pulled the door open and Joe wriggled closer swinging his legs out. “Man, am I glad to see you!”

“Feeling’s mutual,” Sam grinned. He helped Joe out and quickly sliced the ropes binding his wrists.

“Do you know if Frank’s okay?” Joe asked worriedly.

“Your dad’s with him,” Sam responded. Joe exhaled in relief and slumped against the car as Sam patted him on the shoulder comfortingly. “Okay, let’s get a look at your necklace,” he murmured, trying to put Joe at ease a little.

Joe tilted his head slightly giving Sam a better view. There was tense silence as Sam examined it. Joe swallowed nervously, rubbing his sore wrists. “They said if you try to take it off, it’ll detonate.”

“Yeah, I know,” Sam said distractedly.

“What? How?” Joe blurted out.

Sam smiled mysteriously. “Tell ya later. Right now I want to make sure I can get this off as soon as Frank detonates that first bomb.”

Joe’s eyes grew wide and he stared at Sam, stunned. How did Sam know about any of this? As the youngest Hardy opened his mouth to ask, a loud explosion split the air and they both flinched. Recovering quickly, they turned towards the sound and immediately saw wisps of black smoke beginning to waft up over the trees. Once the reverberations stopped, Sam looked back at Joe. Moving closer and peering intently at the digital timer on the bomb around Joe’s neck, he looked up and smiled. “It stopped.”

“Thank God,” Joe said softly. Shaking with relief, he closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again he stared at Sam, pleadingly. “Can you get it off now? Please?”

“Absolutely,” Sam replied, determined. He flipped open his switchblade again, having already decided crude and fast was the way to go. He didn’t know all the details of what had happened when Keith Rashman had held Joe, but he knew enough to understand Joe needed the piece of leather gone…now. “Don’t move,” Sam murmured, not wanting to nick Joe while cutting the bomb off. As he reached towards Joe they both heard a click followed by a soft, insistent beeping. Their eyes met and they stared at each other in horror. There was a second timer! Sam looked at the glowing red numbers as they steadily counted downward. The bomb was going to explode in thirty seconds….

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Disclaimer

The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The Hardy Boys Fan Fiction authors of the Hardy Detective Agency have just borrowed them for an adventure or two. The authors promise to put the boys back when they are done with them. The authors do claim copyright to the original characters in this story. Please do not borrow original characters without express permission of the authors.