Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

Sam Radley pulled into the Hardy driveway and killed the engine. He sat for a moment, thinking of the strange turn the night had taken. After getting the call from Fenton there was no question he’d do whatever it took to help. Having no children of his own, he’d always considered Frank and Joe surrogate sons.

Getting out of the car Sam walked quickly to the office door and hurried through the darkened reception area, marveling at Fenton’s unflinching calm when he had every right to act like nothing more than a very distraught father. By the time he had contacted Sam, Fenton had already assessed the situation, realized they were flying blind and come up with the plan to at least try and get some information as to the trouble his sons had walked into.

Locating Joe in the deserted downtown streets of Bayport hadn’t been too difficult and attaching the GPS tracker to his car had been only slightly more so. However he had to get very close to the youngest Hardy to accomplish the most important task – planting a bug on him.

Despite being a master of disguise, Sam was afraid treading so far into Joe’s personal space would set off all kinds of alarms for the young detective. Or at the very least make him angry enough to take a swing at Sam! But for better or worse Joe had been distracted by concern for his older brother and had been little more than annoyed with the hapless drunk who’d accosted him.

Sam chuckled to himself thinking of the look that would appear on Joe’s face when, after this was all over, he fessed up to being the drunk and returning the five dollars Joe had given him. His smile faltered for the briefest second at the thought that this might not turn out to be something they could look back on and laugh; along with the chilling reminder that he and Fenton still had no idea what ‘this’ was.

Walking into the conference room he saw Fenton seated at the long table, a laptop open in front of him. Sam could hear the muffled sound of a car coming from the laptop’s small speakers.

“Run into any problems?” Fenton asked as Sam crossed the room and took a seat next to him. Wrinkling his nose and waving a hand in Sam’s general direction he added, “You smell like a distillery.”

Sam grinned in reply as he grabbed the coffee pot. “Joe’s no idiot. I had to play the part,” he said. Pouring himself a cup and refilling Fenton’s, he nodded towards the computer. “Is it working?”

“Perfectly,” Fenton responded, angling the laptop slightly so Sam could get a better view. A map of Bayport with a flashing red dot on it took up the whole screen.

“Where’s he been so far?” Sam asked, settling back in the chair.

Fenton reeled off the names of several stores as Sam looked at him in amazement and then whistled appreciatively. “He broke into all those stores without getting caught? You taught him well!”

Fenton reddened slightly. “A little too well, I think. I know for a fact a few of those stores have silent alarms.”

“And he didn’t trip them?”

“Nope,” Fenton nodded towards a scanner on the end of the table. “I’ve been monitoring the police band just in case.”

“Well, he’s just a jack of all trades now, isn’t he? A one-man crime spree!” Sam laughed. “If business gets slow he can commit the crimes as well as solve them!”

“Don’t give him any ideas,” Fenton muttered. “You know, I’m not sure if I should be proud or embarrassed that my son is apparently Bayport’s most prolific burglar.”

“I guess he hasn’t said anything helpful, being that he’s by himself, huh?” Sam asked hopefully.

“No, but I had no idea his vocabulary was so…colorful when he thinks no one can hear him!” Fenton said, rolling his eyes at Sam’s snort of laughter.

For the next two hours Sam watched his friend stare at the little red dot moving about on the screen, knowing it represented something very precious to the experienced investigator.

While Fenton Hardy took great pride in his work and had toiled long and hard to build the reputation he had, he was first and foremost a father – nothing took precedence over his children. And when they were in danger, he moved heaven and earth, with everything else coming to a stop, until they were safe again.

Time passed slowly and the coffee grew cold and bitter. While waiting was something that came with the job and both men had become adept at it, neither liked it much, especially when the stakes were as high as they were tonight.

With his head leaning back and eyes closed, Sam was resting, but not asleep. He was upright in an instant when Fenton let out an expletive that would have made a sailor blush.

“What is it?” Sam asked.

“He’s gone,” Fenton replied, tension in his voice.

“Gone?” Sam repeated, leaning forward and peering at the now empty map of Bayport. “How can he be gone?”

Fenton snorted in disgust and shrugged. “Beats me. But he is…” He glanced at Sam, worry creeping into his eyes. “Think maybe Joe found the tracker? He’d be angry that someone was tracking him.”

‘That’s putting it mildly!’ Sam thought, as he replied, “He was driving when the signal was lost, right? So he couldn’t have taken it off himself.”

“Yeah…you don’t think he was being watched the whole time, do you? Maybe they saw you and Joe and didn’t buy your harmless drunk act.” Fenton raked a hand through his hair, staring at the screen once more as if that could make the small red dot that represented his son suddenly reappear. “They might’ve run him off the road…”

“No, we can still hear him,” Sam pointed out, hoping to reassure his friend as he stared at the screen intently. “That stretch of road he was on,” he gestured towards the screen. “There are still some pretty nasty potholes from the winter snowstorms that the Department of Transportation hasn’t repaired yet.”

“It’s June, for God’s sake! What are they waiting for?” Fenton complained, although Sam could hear relief in his voice.

Sam patted him on the shoulder. “He probably hit one and the tracker fell off. The bug is still working fine,” he pointed out, as they heard Joe fiddling with the radio. “Hopefully when whoever is orchestrating this whole operation catches up with him, they or Joe will say something to give us a clue where he is.”

Fenton leaned back in his chair, and let out a weary sigh unable to keep the worried father under wraps any longer. “Maybe…” he said softly, “maybe…”

*****

Frank lay on the lumpy, Army-issue cot, hands behind his head, and stared up at the ceiling, trying to figure out exactly what the hell was going on. He’d been ambushed by four armed men just outside the condominium and forced into a waiting car; the guns they held just out of sight of passersby convinced him to go along without a fight. A little surprisingly, he hadn’t been hurt at all and in fact still had no idea why he’d been taken in the first place, other than as leverage to use against Joe.

Frank frowned, realizing even that didn’t make much sense. After being forced into the car, one of the men had bound his hands and blindfolded him. They’d then driven for approximately forty minutes, out to the country judging by the sounds outside. Once they’d arrived at their destination, Frank had been escorted to this room – basically a very small cinderblock prison – and left here.

There was a door and one tiny window set high in the wall, but other than that, the only things in the room were the cot he was lying on and a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. Frank had done a quick search of the room and realized escape would be virtually impossible.

The man who he assumed to be the leader had joined him a few hours earlier but only long enough to allow him to talk to Joe – on his own cell phone, no less! – apparently to appease a request from his younger brother.

From what Frank could gather of what he heard, they wanted Joe to do something for them and were using Frank to ensure his cooperation. He’d heard the man threaten his life if Joe told anyone what was going on and hoped his brother didn’t take the bait. He sighed then, knowing Joe was probably following their instructions to the letter, unwilling to risk Frank’s life on the off chance they might be bluffing. And if he were truthful with himself, Frank knew he’d do exactly the same thing if their situations were reversed.

Lost in thought, Frank was startled when the door suddenly opened and the man who’d let him speak to Joe on the phone earlier came in.

“Frank,” he smiled and nodded as if greeting an old friend.

Frank sat up, but said nothing, leery of the man.

“Your brother is very good at following orders,” he continued.

Frank raised an eyebrow in disbelief. ‘You obviously don’t know Joe very well!’ he thought sardonically.

“He apparently values your life quite highly.” Frank watched as the man began to pace the length of the claustrophobic room, glancing at him every few seconds. “And it turns out he’s quite resourceful.”

“What do you want?” Frank finally asked.

“Actually, that’s why I’m here,” the man smiled charmingly. “To explain exactly what we want with him…and you. That way you won’t be up all night wondering and you’ll be able to get a good night’s sleep. You’re going to need to be sharp tomorrow. After all, I wouldn’t want you to make any mistakes. Your brother’s life will depend on that…”

For the next several minutes Frank listened as the man outlined a very detailed and, Frank had to admit, well thought out plan. By the time the man finished explaining exactly what was going to happen once Joe arrived, Frank could only stare in disbelief.

He wanted to say “You’ll never get away with it!” but all he could do was stare as the man walked out of the room, closing the door behind him before sliding the dead bolt into place.

The gaping hole in the pit of his stomach told Frank that if things went according to plan, they very well could get away with it. He sat, stunned, as everything slowly sank in.

As the reality of what he’d just been told washed over him, he dropped his head to his hands.

‘Oh, God…we are so screwed…’

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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.