Disclaimer: We do not own the Hardy Boys or any of the canon book characters, nor do we own the Sentinel or any of the canon television characters, and are making no monies from this story. Any Original Characters belong to the author(s). Co-written with Talefeathers of the HDA.

For those of you who are not familiar with The Sentinel's characters, we hope this will be a pleasant introduction to them for you. For those of you who are already acquainted with Blair, Jim, Simon and the others – enjoy!

Trying to fit these four stories into two different story arcs [Hardy Boys and The Sentinel] just barely worked. Band of Brothers and Welcome to Cascade take place before September Song begins [Hardy universe] , and any time after The Perfect Partner [Sentinel universe]. Missing Persons happens right after Fanfare for June [Hardys]; A Matter of Public Record takes place any time between Death on the Fourth of July and February Flirtations [Hardys], and before Remodel and Rebuild [Sentinel].

The stories in the series were written in 2006 and 2007. Technology does not match today's levels. Also, we apologize for the liberties we took with the NCAA playoffs. We really do know better, but had to have several games in one place for the story to work!

Band of Brothers

A Sentinel/Hardy Boys Crossover story

By EvergreenDreamweaver and Talefeathers

Chapter 3

Standing just out of the rain, watching the hordes of people exiting both the Convention Center and the Sports Complex, Jim, Joe and Con waited patiently for Frank, Daryl and Blair to return.

"I've got five bucks that says they'll never make it back in ten minutes," Con offered, grinning, but Jim shook his head.

"No bet, Riley; I know my partner."

"What, they will be back in ten minutes?"

"Nope. He'll be in there for an hour."

"An HOUR!" Joe exclaimed, appalled. "But what about dinner!?"

Ellison bit back a smile. "If Daryl has anything to say about it," he conceded, "they won't be very late for dinner. How about your brother?"

"Frank said they wouldn't be late for dinner, and he'll keep his word," Joe asserted...although he looked just a trifle doubtful.

"I wish they'd hurry up," Riley complained, as another lightning bolt zigzagged down the leaden sky. "It's going to storm like all get-out any minute!"

Ellison agreed with Con's assessment; his weather-sense was tingling mightily, and he wanted to get inside, away from the thunder, the lightning flashes, and the spatters of wind-driven rain. And he wanted some dinner. A steak would be nice – a steak and a baked potato. And green beans, and a salad, and...peach pie. Snap it up, Chief! I'm gettin' wet, here, and damn hungry!

Waiting there, just barely sheltered from the driving downpour, Jim Ellison was abruptly aware of the increased rushing-water noise he was picking up. It had nudged at his consciousness all day, a subliminal pestering that he had tried to ignore, but suddenly it was no longer subliminal, it was hammering at him with devastating intensity. He looked over at the fountain, and saw the water jets – barely visible through the rain – falter and disappear, as if a tap had been turned off.

A resounding crack! echoed in the air, sounding almost like another thunderclap or close lightning strike – but Ellison knew it was neither of those things. He took two steps out into the open, his gaze riveted on the nearby Sports Complex, and then another, louder crack! sounded...and to his utter horror, the Sentinel of Cascade saw the corner of the big building – the building containing Blair, Daryl, and Frank Hardy – suddenly collapse in on itself and sink into the ground!

There was a split-second of absolute silence as all the onlookers gaped in horror. Then suddenly the unnatural calm gave way to frenzied chaos: screams and cries of dismay rent the air, people ran about in frantic confusion – those closest to the building in a instinct-driven desire to flee from danger, those further away turning back in morbid fascination.

Subtly, quietly, the attendees of the police procedures seminar temporarily took over: groups of officers from across the nation settled into an unspoken but well-understood chain of command as they began to respond to the emergency. The din of anxious cries began to give way to the more subdued buzz of calm, but urgent, orders issuing from the grim-faced rescuers.

"Jim! I've got to go – need to get in touch with Chief Collig," Con Riley called out. Jim nodded his understanding and waved the other detective on his way, then turned just in time to stop a frantic Joe Hardy from dashing into the collapsed building. .

"FRANK! FRANK!" Joe screeched, and shoved past the Sentinel.

Jim grabbed his arm and jerked him back roughly. "NO!" he shouted, "are you trying to get yourself killed?"

"I've got to help Frank!" Joe yelled, completely distraught, and tried to free himself from the detective's iron grip. "That part of the building that fell in – that's where they were...Damnit, Ellison, let me go!"

"You dashing in there isn't going to help Frank – or Daryl, or Blair!" Ellison snarled. "Now hang on a minute and let me think!"

Joe didn't like it, but he realized that Jim had a point. Grudgingly, he waited while Ellison stared bleakly at the devastation. At last the older man stirred. "I'm going after them," he said calmly. "You'd better stay here—"

"No way in hell," Joe snapped. "That's my brother down there! Maybe if you had a brother you'd understand how I feel, but—"

Ellison's head snapped around and Joe shrank back at the haunted, horror-filled expression in the ice-blue eyes. Ellison not understand? Not care? No way!

"I do have a brother," the detective said softly. "He's in Cascade, and perfectly safe. But sometimes brotherhood doesn't have anything to do with DNA, Joe. Blair is my partner, and my best friend...and my brother in every way that matters...and he means more to me than anyone else in the world. You got that?"

Joe nodded, feeling ashamed of himself. "Got it," he muttered. "So how can we find them?"

Jim scowled. He knew what he needed to do – but he didn't want to do it in front of the younger Hardy boy. He knew he was going to have to, though, if he was going to find Blair and the others. God, Blair, where in hell are you...? Concentrate, Ellison, damnit! Blair needs you at the top of your form, not disintegrating! He flinched as a crack of thunder and a flash of lightning hammered at him.

"First, we get as close as we can to where we think they might be," he said at last. "You're familiar with the layout of the building and I'm not. So I'm going to need your help."

"Anything." Joe pointed towards the back corner of the building, where the devastation was worst. "Let's start there."

The place was crowded, even though many of the spectators had left before the cave in. But somehow Joe Hardy and Jim Ellison managed to get through the chaos. Only once were they challenged.

"Hey! You two can't go down there!" It was a uniformed Bayport officer who halted their progress.

Jim reached into his pocket and pulled out his badge. "I'm Detective Ellison, from Cascade, Washington," he said calmly. "I was at the police procedures seminar next door. My partner is in there somewhere – and my boss's son – and his brother." He indicated Joe. "And yes, we're going in."

"I'm Joe Hardy; my brother Frank's down there," Joe put in. He didn't know the officer, but hoped the familiar name might carry some weight.

"You don't have to worry; I was an Army Ranger and a medic as well; I know what I'm doing," Jim added. "And I'll watch out for Joe."

The officer hesitated only a second longer. "Go ahead," he said, and waved them past. "Do you need a flashlight or anything?"

"We're fine," Ellison replied, already picking his way through the rubble again, with Joe scurrying behind him. But they hadn't gone very far before Joe stopped.

"Detective Ellison?"

"What?" Jim barely looked around, just kept searching for places to put his feet that wouldn't start a secondary cave-in.

"Could you wait a minute? I have an idea."

Ellison stopped, and turned, frowning ferociously. "What is it?"

Joe looked around nervously. "Maybe this is of no use...I'm not sure, but..."

"Just spit it out, kid." Ellison's growl would have been intimidating, if Joe hadn't realized that the detective was worried sick about his partner's whereabouts.

"Well...getting through all of this is going to take hours." Joe pointed at the sunken pit filled with what had been walls and floors and electrical wiring. "But – there might – um, I might know another way..."

"What way?" Jim stopped scowling quite so blackly, alert to any new possibility, no matter how bizarre it might be.

"It's...well, once upon a time, way back, there was a theater here. Not a movie theater, a real one, you know, with a stage and an orchestra pit and dressing rooms and all that. One of those real 'off-off-Broadway' types, you know? The Sports Complex was built on top of it, after a fire destroyed most of the building," Joe said hesitantly. "There was a real rabbit-warren of tunnels down underneath. He didn't say so, but that might be part of what Frank was going to show Daryl and Blair."

"And...?" Jim tried to rein in his impatience. They were wasting valuable time; what was the kid's point in all this rambling?

"Well – when we were younger, you know, 12, 13, Frank and I and some of our friends, a whole lot of us, used to explore down there," Joe explained. "We weren't supposed to, of course; our folks said it was dangerous, and all, but we did it anyway. We'd go down and play Capture the Flag in the dark, with just flashlights..." He broke off, seeing Ellison's ill-concealed sigh. "It's just that – I think there might be a way to get into those old tunnels and get under all this!" He gestured at the pit again. "We could maybe get closer that way. I think I could find it, I think we could get to it from the other side of the building, where it didn't fall...But...if you think it's a bad idea, we don't have to...it's just that..."

The detective stopped him with an upraised hand. "Lead the way, kid."