Yeah, I killed off Frank before this story even began... :(
And to anyone who read the note about where I thought Bayport was, please ignore that. Chromde reminded me about some of the facts (thank you!), so just know that Bayport is probably in New Jersey (but New York elements might be mixed in).

I do not own the Hardy Boys.

Enjoy!


Fenton Hardy had never thought that his sons would never be separated. They were always something more than brothers. They were best friends, the kind that understood almost everything about the other.

He never thought ATAC would bring the mess that it did, either. Fenton had opposed their new idea from the start, but the other board members were convinced that it was the only way to make people safer.

"You're teaching kids how to kill, and giving them guns!"

The statement echoed in his memory as he looked at the picture on the desk of his study. A golden frame held a picture of Frank, smiling into the camera, his arm around Joe.

Frank had joined the new program that ATAC offered. It had been called Project Assassin Agents, or Project AA for short. As the name implied, the chosen agents would be taught how to wield weapons and kill, should the situation call for it. Only two had been in the program. Jackie Rose had been one of them, a foster care child who currently did not have a family. The other was Frank.

The agency decided not to use Joe. They claimed he was too impulsive. The blonde teenager was upset, but accepted the news. He had a harder time when Frank agreed to undergo the training, however.

"You're innocence doesn't need to be ruined. Besides, you have a life."

That was Frank's response. He had resented his brother slightly, after Joe decided not to take a mission so he wouldn't miss the chance to attend a school dance party. That once choice had upset the bond between the two, but Fenton never thought it would be that much.

Still, he had silently hoped that one day, Frank would come back from his training. He was always traveling to learn new techniques, or work on actual missions. It was even reported that he had shot a man in order to save someone's life. But as the days turned into weeks, the great private investigator's hopes steadily fell.

More than three weeks ago, all of the family's hope had vanished. Laura and Trudy had been told that Frank had joined a learning program that had been funded to take kids around the nation to get a greater learning experience. They were fed another lie, but the ultimate truth was the same.

Frank Hardy had been killed.

No body had been found, but a security tape had shown Frank being shot, and then the area around him had been set on fire before the camera experienced some issues from the fire. Fenton had watched the video, Frank's screams scarring his mind.

What troubled Fenton the most was that the killer was still out there. The person who tortured his son, murdered the teenager, was walking among the public.

Another issue bothered Fenton Hardy. Before Frank crossed the line between life and death, members of ATAC had died. Thank God, it wasn't any of the agents. If those kids were the victims, he would never be able to live with himself.

But it was puzzling, all the same. The highest officials, some who have helped create ATAC, were dying. Not just dying, either. They were killed off. Murdered. Some with bullets, other with poisons or explosives. But they all met the same fate.

Besides being a part of ATAC, the people had no connection to each other at all. It was puzzling, but revealed something about the killers: whoever was behind this knew about the organization. There were too many dead adults for it all to be a coincidence.

The phone cut off the rest of his thoughts.

He picked it up quickly after recognizing the number. "Yes?"

"Three men have been found dead."

Fenton swore silently. Another three have been killed. "Where?"

"Binghamton. All by bullet shots."

"Send me the info."

"Will do."

Fenton put down the phone, only to have it ring again. This time, it was an unlisted number. Assuming it was a telemarketer or something, he allowed the ringing to continue. With any luck, the second they heard the answering machine, they would give up.

He was surprised to even hear a voice when the answering machine started recording. But the voice itself was a whole other matter.

"Hello, Fenton." It had been a voice disguiser that mixed different pitches together, so it sound like multiple voices at once. Some parts sounded digital, while some seemed authentic.

"Don't bother to pick up the phone. In fact, you might want the answering machine to record this all."

"To make in simple: you are in my territory. You have been messing with my stuff. So I'm gonna do the same to you. And this time, it won't be just anyone's life…"

Fenton pressed the record button that was part of his phone (ATAC had given it to him, just in case). Once he made sure the conversation was being recorded, he picked up the phone. "What do you want?"

"So, you already figured out who I am?"

"You're a murderer. You're the one after all of those agents."

"Very good. I see that you still kept your edge as a detective."

"How did you find out about our operation?"

"I have my ways, Fenton. You of all people should know how many different ways we can… extract information. But that's not supposed to be our topic."

"What do you want?"

"Stay off my turf, Fenton Hardy. If you're smart, you'll back off before anything unfortunate happens to your family…"

"What…?"

"You miss your son, don't you? He ran off to try and be a good person, but after all that effort, he died." Fenton mentally saw the smirk that the killer had on his/her face.

"You killed Frank."

"Yes I did, Fenton."

"Why?"

"I have my reasons. But I have a feeling that Frank is lonely in the hole where he is. Maybe he needs Joseph to join him…"

Fenton shot up from his seat, clutching the phone to his ear. "You wouldn't dare…"

"You know my demands, Fenton. Don't ever say I didn't warn you."

The phone line went dead. Fenton was shaking as he put the phone back into the base, trying to understand the information fully.

The killer had called him, had enjoyed the pain that Fenton had for the death of his oldest son. And the killer was planning the same fate for Joe, unless Fenton back off the case of finding the ATAC killer.

Like hell am I letting this bastard get away.

There was a knock at the door, putting whatever thoughts Fenton had about the killer on hold. "Come in."

Joe walked into the room, his book bag hanging off of his left shoulder. He had been looking down, but the second he noticed the window, he peered outside, as if worried about an unknown force.

"Joe, what is it?"

Joe literally jumped at those words, and a look of a frightened child was seen in his face as he faced his father.

"Sorry, Dad. I mean… I don't want to interrupt anything… Maybe it's just me being paranoid, that's all."

Fenton sighed. "Joe, I have no idea what you're talking about. Sit down and tell me."

"You're busy-"

"Joseph."

The stern voice had somewhat surprised the blonde teenager. He sat down in the seat in the couch across from the desk, letting his backpack sit on the floor next to his feet. He leaned back, trying to focus on anything but his father's face.

"There's this girl. I think she might be stalking me."

------------

Snake sat next to the phone in the old house. He couldn't help but smile to himself. He knew he would win this battle. It wasn't that hard to pick sides at the moment.

He held Frank Hardy's journal in his hand. He had read it quite a few times, trying to grasp what the boy had gone through in his life before he had met Snake.

Hawk said she didn't need the journal anymore. She had her part down. Snake had even watched her today. She was too perfect for the job.

"But I killed Jackie with love."

The words echoed in his mind. What did he kill Frank with? Hatred? Or indifference?

Snake tossed the journal into the fireplace, hoping that he could light a fire later. He saw the book only as a burden, since he had no longer use for the pages filled with love and happiness.

For all that Snake was concerned with, those emotions didn't really exist.