Disclaimer: I do not own the Hardy Boys or any of the book characters.

Thank you! To Wendylouwho10 as usual for reading for flow and content. Typos are mine and I find them all the time!

Rating/Setting: Rating is T. Started as kinda blue spine with a touch of Casefiles but is now completely AU. Frank is 20 and Joe is 19.

Author's Notes: I should have put a trigger warning in early in the story and I think all of them are out in the open at the moment. Sorry for the late warning. If you've been reading my stories, then you know I have a penchant for certain things. :-) This story has a darker theme than many of the other stories and things will get worse before they get better! Thanks as always for the reviews! And thanks for reading!

Chapter Ten

Frank was in his backyard with cell phone in hand. He hadn't told his father what he was doing. Whether he approved or not, he was going to make this call. After selecting the name 'Nick Sacco' from his contacts, he held the phone to his ear and listened to the ringing. Nick picked up on the third ring.

"This is a surprise Mr. Hardy," Nick's voice came pleasantly through the phone.

"I need to call in that favor you said you owed me and my brother." Frank was terse and to the point. He was definitely tense after getting the information from ORT about Yates.

"One moment."

Frank could hear the sounds of movement and quiet voices and then Nick was back on the line.

"I'm alone now. What do you need?" Sacco was all business understanding that Frank's request and tone meant there was serious business to be dealt with.

Frank steadied himself and said, "Joe's been abducted by a group called the Assassins and he's been missing for days. We don't have any leads and I'm hoping that someone in your organization has heard something."

Sacco was quiet for a moment and then responded, "We don't deal with the Assassins but we know of them. I'm currently out of town but I'll be back in a few days. Give me until then and I'll call you to set up a meeting to share what we've found out."

Even though waiting a few days irritated Frank, he knew that Sacco would need some time. "I'll be waiting for your call."

The call disconnected and Frank let his hand with the phone drop to his side. "Now I'll just have to wait for that info," he said softly to himself as he looked at the tree house in the old oak.

.**********.

Joe chewed mindlessly on the sandwich. It lost all its taste and he felt it was either the drugs in the sandwich or a physical side effect of the drugs. Maybe his taste had been affected. There was small click; he didn't even glance at the door when he heard it open. It was folly to think he could escape anyone in his current physical and mental state. His mind went back to his situation. The room was still white and he still had to sit in that blasted chair for hours upon end but the lights no longer fluctuated wildly and no music played. Instead it was unrelenting silence that was his torture now. That and…

Joe's eyes moved over to the area in front of his chair. The picture of Vanessa and Frank was on the floor there; left for him by his captors. It was no longer in its frame but it was there- the only bit of color in the pristine white of the room. His eyes roamed back to the floor near to him. The blood spatters from his numerous beatings were gone. They were removed at some point when he was asleep from his drugged food.

"Look at me, Joe," the woman said. His eyes finally turned slowly to find her. "We have located some more pictures that you should see."

She squatted down out of the range of his hands, obviously not willing to chance anything. After all he was a trained agent. But it was the closest she had been to him while he was unrestrained. After placing a bit of cloth and what appeared to be a photo album down in front of her, she stood and exited the room.

Joe took the last bite of his tasteless sandwich and though he knew he shouldn't, he pulled the cloth and book toward him. Pulling the cloth from underneath it, he found it to be a pair of white cotton boxers. The cloth felt smooth and soft in his hands. It was the first clothing he had had in over a week; he was no longer certain of how long he had been imprisoned. Carefully, he pulled them on and then sat again- the album in front of him. Joe reached for the small booklet and then withdrew his hand. I won't play their game. I won't. Closing his eyes, he lay down and stretched out enjoying the slight respite from his confinement to the chair. I wonder how long they'll leave me like this since I didn't look at their pictures? His answer was an hour of blissful rest; it was the longest period he had ever had out of the chair.

.**********.

Three days later…

Joe sat with his back against the wall eating his PB&J sandwich. As with each day he had sat just out of arms' reach of the photo album left by his captors. The picture of Frank and Vanessa sat on the floor in front of his chair where it had been left. He had made no attempt to touch either of the items though he looked often at the spot where the photo album sat when he was eating. There was precious little to do and so his eyes were drawn there. The small album looked to contain about twenty pictures. The exterior was a blue vinyl with 'Photo Album' written in an italic cursive gold script. It was a cheap one that you could buy at any dollar store. Each day they had left him with the album for an hour before he was told to return to the chair, the album staying in the same spot.

I wonder what they would do if I looked at it? Would they let me sit out longer? He considered this as he finished his sandwich. Closing his eyes he thought,It's not real. They wouldn't do… anything. They told me everything. I love them. They love me. He scooted closer to the album and let his fingers trace over the words. His eyes squeezed shut and he brought his hand back to his lap quickly, as if he had touched something hot. No. It's what they want. I can't. I won't. He opened his eyes and looked back to the album. If I do it, maybe they'll leave me unrestrained longer. Whatever is in there isn't real. I won't believe it. I won't. But he knew that he'd have a problem with it. He was already thinking ill thoughts of Iola and her predictions. As if what she had told him had brought all this about. Logically, he knew it wasn't true but he was thinking the thoughts anyway and he couldn't get rid of them. The picture on the floor. He looked to it. He hadn't been near it but the image was burned in his mind. Not. Real. Photo altered. The words ground out in his head as he forced himself to believe it. He wouldn't touch the album. Not today anyway.

He scooted away from the album and brought his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. Gently he laid his head on his knees and shed quiet tears.

.**********.

"It won't be long now," Maya said as she looked through the glass at Joe.

"Right on schedule," Hassan said as he looked in as well.

"We will be once he looks at the album." Her tone was satisfied.

.**********.

Frank and Callie sat on a bench overlooking Barmet Bay at the scenic lookout on this sunny, hot July afternoon. Frank had surprised even himself as he had driven Callie there. Joe had said he liked to come here to think and to be honest, Frank was looking for ways to feel closer to his brother during his absence. Feeling Callie's hand squeeze his, he looked over to her. "Thanks for coming with me."

She scooted as close to him as possible, their entwined hands resting on her bare knee. The day was hot and they were in shorts and t-shirts. Callie reached up to push her hair back behind her ear. The breeze was the only thing making sitting in the sun bearable. "Anytime."

Frank glanced away. He hadn't thought that he could feel closer to Callie than he had but he realized now that he was. Of course his mom and dad had been there for him but Callie had been his rock. She listened. She questioned. And what was most important she never tried to make it sound like things would be all right. Looking out over the white-capped waves of the bay he said, "Thanks for not giving me the song and dance routine."

He felt her move back a little. "Um, what?"

Continuing to look over the water he said, "You know, 'everything will be all right, Frank.' 'Don't worry, he'll be fine.'"

"But, Frank-" she began but he cut her off as he turned to face her.

"I'm not saying that we won't find him and I'm not saying that he won't be fine… eventually. But our friends haven't been through this like I have. They haven't been the ones to see Joe when we've managed to find him just in the nick of time." He thought back to finding Joe on the shore of Lake Superior and more recently of finding him in that cemetery. He shivered despite the heat.

Callie reached up to stroke his face. He could feel the stubble beneath her fingers as she traced his jaw line. His breath caught in his throat as his eyes met hers and saw the deep compassion there.

"Oh, baby, I'm under no illusions as to how serious this is," she said softly. "I wasn't there to find Joe but I saw you soon after you returned from those times and I saw the toll it took on you. You and your father are doing everything you can to find him and if anyone can find him, it will be the two of you."

Frank broke his gaze away. "My track record hasn't-"

Callie broke in this time as her fingers reached to turn his face back to hers. "You were there in Whitaker's State Park. You were there in NY City. You were just seventeen when Joe and Iola were abducted." She smiled a little. "You've grown a lot since then. You have even more skills." Her tone was calm and serious. "Whatever happens… I'm here for you. Don't try pretending to be strong. Be yourself with me." Her head bobbed as she continued to stroke his face. "I'm here come hell or high water. In it for the long haul. Whatever phrase you want to use. If…" For the first time, her voice faltered, "If things fall apart. I'll be here to help you pick up the pieces." She drew a deep breath and gave him a watery smile as her hand dropped from his face.

Frank was speechless. He didn't know what to say as he looked into her eyes. Wisps of blonde hair blew across her face as the breeze continued to blow. The sun was behind her making her blonde hair shine like a halo. She truly was his angel at the moment. "What did I do to deserve you?" he whispered.

"Some things are meant to be," she whispered back as she leaned forward slightly.

It seemed an odd time to kiss her considering the nature of their conversation, but he felt so unbelievably close to her that he just had to make the feeling tangible. He leaned over to kiss her and she met him halfway. Where their bodies touched felt electrified. He felt her arms go around his neck as she pressed against him. Their kisses were filled with passion, love, and to a degree… desperation because they both knew that if everything fell apart it would take a very long time to pick up the pieces.