Disclaimer: I do not own the Hardy Boys or any of the book characters.I do have some OCs though that are mine.
Rating/Setting: Rating is T. Setting is close to blue-spine. Frank is 17, Joe is 16.
Author's Notes: Joe chapter. Frank will be away for several chapters. I need to develop this part of the story and don't want to break until I reach a certain point. ;-) Frankettes just hold on… he will return! I promise!
And a big thank you to all who have reviewed! I really appreciate it! Keep doing it!
Chapter Ten
A knock sounded at the door and Joe quickly got to his feet beside the bed. He heard the lock tumblers turning and then the door was opened. A well-muscled man about Joe's height opened the door. In his hand was a gun of some sort, which he pointed at Joe.
"Back against the wall," the man said. "If you try anything I'll have to sedate you."
So, it's a dart gun, Joe mused as he complied with the man's request. When his back was to the wall, the man stepped to the side. Joe's apprehension greatly increased as an attractive woman, about forty he guessed, stepped into the room with a basket.
Sitting the basket on the floor, the woman stood and smoothed her dress and swung her head to flip her long honey blonde hair over her shoulder. "These clothes should fit you, Joe. My husband, Dominic, and I will expect you to be showered and dressed in hour. George will return to show you the way." She moved as if to leave the room, but then turned, "Dominic and I want to be hospitable, but we need to make sure that you… behave. Don't give us cause to be uncivilized." With that she left and George closed and locked the door.
Joe stood with his back still against the wall. Kidnapped. Held against his will. Locked in a room. Threatened with a dart gun. And she was worried about being 'uncivilized?' Joe shook his head as he moved to the basket that the woman had brought. She hadn't introduced herself but he had two names to file away. Looking into the basket, he found khaki pants, a polo shirt, underwear, socks, shoes, and a belt. In addition, there was a small electric travel razor and deodorant. Taking the basket with him toward the bathroom, he wondered what the couple wanted him for. In an hour, he figured he'd find out.
.**********.
Joe was sitting on the end of his bed when the knock came at the door. George's voice carried through. "Put your back against the wall." Joe figured this would be the common practice while he was here. He moved to stand as commanded and the door opened.
George smiled as he saw the surprise on the teenager's face. "This is Hans," he said gesturing to the large German shepherd beside him. "He's here to make sure you behave." He gave a chuckle. Stepping back and making a sweeping gesture toward the hall, he continued, "Mr. and Mrs. Laird are expecting you."
After only a slight hesitation, Joe walked from the room. He had nothing to fear from the dog as long as an attack command wasn't given. Therefore, he went in the direction that George indicated and found himself in a narrow hallway. At the end of the hall, he opened the door and exited into a wide and heavily decorated corridor. Expensive looking paintings with ornate frames hung on walls covered in intricate wallpaper. Where he had been must have been a servants' area. This had to be the main house where official guests and the owners would stay. A heavily carved staircase was in front of him and George indicated that he should descend. As he went down, he could hear the soft pads of Hans' feet on the treads behind him.
"To the left," George said as they reached the bottom.
Joe walked toward the open door on the left side of the large entryway. The woman from earlier was seated near the head of large wooden table that could seat at least twenty. The man who sat at the head of the table arose when Joe walked into the room and stood just inside.
"Ah, Joseph. Please come and sit next to me." When Joe didn't make a move, he added, "Where are my manners. I am Dominic Laird and this is my wife, Marilyn. Now, please. Come join us."
After hearing a whispered command in a foreign language behind him, a low growl came from Hans. There was no chance of him countermanding the dog's orders. The language sounded like northern Europe but he wasn't sure. His attention focused back on the table in front of him. He wanted answers and bizarre as this was, he would have to obey. Joe walked down the side of the table opposite of the one where Mrs. Laird sat. Joe observed Dominic Laird as he walked. The man was about his height with dark hair peppered with gray and was probably a decade older than his wife. His face had the weathered look of a man who spent a lot of time outdoors. Joe stopped when he came to the seat across from Marilyn Laird. A place setting was there and Mr. Laird, gestured toward the seat. Carefully pulling out the heavy wooden chair, he seated himself.
Dominic Laird smiled at him. "You must be wondering why you're here." At Joe's nod, he said, "We'll talk about it over dinner." With a hand signal to George, the message was relayed elsewhere by radio and a side door opened. A young man entered pushing a cart.
Joe's eyes went to him with the hope that this was someone who could help.
Soft laughter came from Joe's left as Dominic watched him. "You will find no help from anyone here, Joseph. All of my employees are sworn to secrecy and are well paid to keep it."
Joe was sure there was also some kind of threat involved, but he had to admit, the servant didn't even glance his way as he placed a salad and a full dinner plate in front of him. As the meal was being placed, he realized that his utensils were plastic while the Lairds' were silver. Holding up the plastic fork, he looked to Dominic.
Dominic was putting down his wine glass when he saw the fork. "Don't be ridiculous, Joseph, I'm not going to give you sharp metal implements." Waving at the plastic, he said, "And I know that given time, you could even make these into a formidable weapon, but I don't think you can do it over the course of dinner while we're watching you. Your food is already cut up, so the fork should be sufficient."
"Why?" Joe asked as he put the fork down.
Dominic picked up his knife and fork and began to cut the steak in front of him. He didn't feign ignorance of what Joe was asking. "I needed a challenge."
"A challenge?"
Dominic put a piece of steak in his mouth and chewed slowly. When he had finished, he looked to Joe. "Yes. You see, I'm a hunter and I have exhausted all the game worth hunting on the planet. I needed something fresh. Something that could really challenge me. The obvious solution would be to find subjects that could try to outwit me and survive."
"Subjects," Joe said softly. "You mean people."
Dominic waved his fork in the air in a dismissive gesture. "Semantics. Subjects or people. Doesn't matter. What matters is the challenge."
Any appetite that Joe had was gone as he realized what Dominic had in store for him. "You hunt… and kill… people."
Swallowing another bite, Dominic replied, "Indeed, I hunt them. I only kill them when I tire of them or they refuse to engage in the hunt. Of course, some are killed due to injuries they sustain in the hunt. However, if you complete each challenge, I provide medical care and a chance to recoup before the next challenge."
Joe's eyes moved from Dominic to Marilyn who seemed unfazed by what her husband said. The woman was delicately eating on her salad and seemed uninterested in the conversation. Turning back toward Dominic, Joe asked, "You plan to… hunt me?" Joe couldn't keep the apprehension out of his voice. This was the stuff that horror movies were made of.
Putting down his knife and fork, Dominic turned his full attention on Joe and looked him in the eyes. "Yes. I specifically requested you or brother."
Joe's eyes were glued to the man as he spoke.
"The last three subjects were small challenges. I was hoping for a bigger a challenge. You and your brother have started making a reputation for yourselves as being resourceful and smart. Throw in the fact that you are both young and athletic and it's the perfect package."
Joe's thoughts were on the fact that Frank had been a target as well… and could still be one. But a question came to his mind, "Why don't you go for older subjects who have more experience?"
"Because if I started taking older subjects with specific characteristics, it would become too much of a discernible pattern. Taking teenagers as part of a trafficking operation just means you are one of many without any pattern to find."
Unfortunately, the man made sense. The man was also sociopath. He had to get away. If he didn't escape, when Dominic tired of him, Frank would probably be on his list of subjects to acquire.
"You should eat, Joseph. You'll have to find your own food while we're on the hunt." Dominic's tone was casual as he returned to eating.
Picking up his fork, Joe did his best though the food stuck in his throat as he tried to swallow.
"We'll begin the hunt tomorrow bright and early. I'll have your clothes for you in the morning and will give you your goal and time frame."
With that, the Lairds engaged in casual dinner conversation as if this were a common occurrence. Joe's stomach turned as he realized that to them it very well could be.