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

Thank you: Wendylouwho10 as always for being my sounding board and flow checker. ;-D Typos and grammar errors are mine.

Rating/Setting: Rating is T. Continues my "Taken" series. This one comes after "Debts." Setting started out as kinda blue spine with a touch of Casefiles and is now very AU. F/20 J/18.

Author's Notes: This chapter ends this story. Just like with the last if you review and have PM enabled, I'll PM you the title and summary for the next story! I'm now on chapter 15 of the next story! I anticipate it being about 20 chapters, maybe a little longer. So review if you want to know what the next story will be!


Chapter Twelve

Fenton Hardy was livid as he sat in the ORT conference room with Agents Johnson and Williams, Frank, Joe, and Vanessa. He had been called to come in for the ORT debriefing on the mission. They had told him that the three were all right but an attempt had been made and foiled and they were coming in for a debriefing before going to their homes. Johnson and Williams had given him the debrief papers just twenty minutes before the trio came in.

"Dad, my arm is fine. It's just a little stiff," Joe said carefully.

Fenton stared at his son for a moment and then said, "I think you know that while your arm is a concern, it is secondary to you having a confirmed sniper kill at age eighteen."

Joe didn't lower his eyes from his father's stern gaze. "It was the Assassin or Frank; I think you agree with my choice."

"That's just it!" Fenton exploded. He turned his anger toward those more appropriate. "You KNOW the Network! Yet you still had them go!"

"We didn't make them," Johnson said calmly.

Fenton laughed derisively. "Like the three of them would tell you no."

"Dad!" Frank's voice was loud and like a knife slicing through the air. "It was OUR choice. You told us about your experience with the Network and we chose to go. And yes, we do trust Agents Johnson and Williams but we aren't idiots!" His voice dropped. "You didn't raise us that way."

Fenton's anger abated somewhat. His children and Vanessa would live with the memories from this mission and he didn't need to make things worse for them. "You shouldn't have been in that position."

"Mr. Hardy?"

Fenton turned in surprise to Vanessa. He hadn't really expected her to speak after his outburst but he should have realized that she would always speak her mind… especially if it concerned Joe.

"None of us are happy with how the Network handled some aspects of this assignment." She looked to the ORT agents. "However, there is nothing to indicate that the Network knew that an attack would occur. In light of the fact that none of the campers were harmed and the Zanes are now safe shows that we should take pride in our part of that."

Fenton deflated more. "I'm not questioning your actions—"

"Just Joe's," she said firmly.

Fenton stopped and looked from the young woman to his son. "I just didn't want him to—" Fenton paused, closed his eyes and drew a deep breath before opening them. He looked into Joe's eyes and said, "I'm glad you made that choice. It was no different than the choice your mother made at Whitaker's State Park and no different than the choice I would have made in Michigan. Never doubt that. I just wish you didn't have to make that choice at such a young age."

"Thank you, dad," Joe whispered out, finally showing the emotion that was hidden behind his stoic facial expression.

The room remained quiet for a moment and then Fenton turned to the agents. "Conduct your debriefing." He flipped through the papers on the table. "I don't see where there is much more to question."

"There isn't regarding what happened once the plan was put into motion," Johnson said. If he were relieved that Fenton had calmed down, he didn't show it. "Agent Williams and I wanted to check on the Network agents' behavior toward the three of you while you were in your cover as campers."

"Well, they treated me just like the other girls," Vanessa said. "But they definitely were evaluating Frank and Joe.

"What do you mean?" Williams asked.

"They had me spar with Agent Peaks," Frank said as he leaned back and crossed his arms. "Clary came right out and told me they wanted to see if we could do the things listed in your reports. He said it was just in case they needed us on loan again."

"What about you, Joe?" Williams asked as she made a notation on her tablet.

"They purposefully pushed my buttons by pairing Vanessa up with an obvious flirt and then having me spar with him. They had me show how well I could shoot when we were doing individual shooting." Joe paused and the fingers drummed on his chair arm. "They made references to my time with Laird whenever we were outside."

"Ticked me off," Vanessa muttered.

When Williams looked to Johnson, Fenton asked, "I certainly hope you at least plan to speak to them about that behavior."

Johnson's tone was firm. "Oh, believe me. We have a number of things to address with Agent Gray when we speak to him."

"Is that all then?" Frank asked the agents.

"Yes, we're done," Williams said as she stood. "You have a couple of days left of break. Enjoy them if you can."

The agents left the room and the other four stood.

"Would you mind giving Joe and I a moment?" Fenton asked. Frank and Vanessa both agreed and stepped out, closing the door behind them.

Joe looked a little apprehensive and Fenton was sorry that he had made his son feel that way. He walked slowly over to him and embraced him, being careful with Joe's injured arm. "You always make me proud. Never doubt that. Never," he said as he gave Joe a final squeeze.

"Thanks, dad." He looked down towards his shoes and then up into his father's eyes. "I know that you didn't want me to be in this position, but Agent Gray said something at our debriefing that just stuck with me."

"What?" Fenton couldn't think of anything helpful that little rat could say.

"He basically told Vanessa if she wanted safe she shouldn't have paired with us and ORT but should have gone with the FBI," Joe said with a smile.

Fenton bristled.

"It's okay, dad. He was right. Frank and I signed up for this kind of work." He reached out and put his good hand on his father's shoulder. "I'm also good at it."

"I know," Fenton said with a smile. "It's part of what worries me. The choices ORT and the Network might force you into."

"I have you, Frank, and Vanessa to help me," Joe smiled and then it faded. "But the choices are always mine and my responsibility." His face grew more concerned. "Ummm, Mom…."

"Ah." Fenton reached out and rubbed his son on the back. "She won't know. Classified."

"Right. Right," Joe said with relief. "I just don't want her— you know."

"I know. You're still her baby," Fenton said somewhat wistfully. "When did you grow up?"

"One dark night on the way to the Mortons'." Joe's eyes showed that haunted look for a few seconds and then it was gone.

Fenton wasn't sure what to say about that but he put his arm around Joe and moved to the door. Sometimes you didn't need words.

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

That evening, Joe and Vanessa were playing a game of cards at her mother's house. Andrea was in the kitchen cleaning up from the meal she had fixed for them. They had offered to help, but she had shooed them back into the living room.

Joe looked at his hand and then up at Vanessa with a mischievous wink. "How about a bet? If I win, I get to take you home. If you win, you can come home with me."**

Vanessa laughed. "I'm already home!" She stopped and looked at him. He was still smiling. "Wait… is that from a movie?"

"I got a thank you note from Jeffrey before we left Richmond. He gave me a few quotes to help me out." Joe's grin was broad as Vanessa threw a pillow at him and laughed.


**"If I win, I get to take you home. If you win, you can come home with me." Trees Lounge (1996)

.*.


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

Epilogue:

Al-Rousasa looked at the file that had just been placed on his desk. "Another failure, Hassan?"

"I'm afraid so, sir," the man said quietly. "None of them were taken?" he asked, meaning the Assassins that had been sent.

"None were taken. All followed protocol or were killed outright, none escaped."

Al-Rousasa looked at some of the surveillance photos that had been taken of Camp Perseverance. He pulled out a shot that showed a group walking across an open area. Four figures were circled. "It's a shame we couldn't take them out on Monday when we discovered they were there. A clean kill would have been easiest and best but the client wanted to try for a capture." He let out a snort. "Now they have nothing." He grabbed a pen and drew an additional circle around two of the figures. "These Hardy boys have shown up twice in two months interfering with our operations." He circled another figure. "It appears that Joe's girlfriend is also an agent." He smiled and it was not pleasant. "It will make things so much easier.

"How, sir?" Hassan asked carefully.

Al-Rousas reached into a drawer and dropped four additional folders on his desk. He waved his hand over them. "Five cases of agencies costing us money." He flipped open several folders. "CIA. Network. SWAT. ATF." He paused as he looked inside one of the folders. He shook his head. "I told you once before that these people and the agencies they work for all need to be taught a lesson."

"Have you devised a plan?" Hassan asked.

"I have and it's time I shared it with you. People will think twice before interfering with the Assassins again," Al-Rousasa said with a smile.

Hassan returned the smile.

"Tomorrow I will share the plan with you. But now, I need to contact Maya and let her know that her sister is dead." Hassan pulled the picture taken of the group in Virginia. "I think she may want to be in on the plan to avenge her sister's death."

"Isn't she currently working with the Assassins in Mumbai?"

"She is, but I think I will release her from her service there." He looked back at the picture. "Sibling bonds are strong and it may take her to break this one."

"As you will," Hassan said and bowed before leaving the room.

Al-Rousasa stared at the picture and whispered, "One whose bond was broken to break another." He smiled again. "Poetic."