J.M.J.

Author's note: Thank you for continuing to read! In particular, thank you to angelicalkiss, max2013, and drogorath for your reviews on the previous chapter! Angelicalkiss: Yes, long-distance relationships are very difficult, and we will have to see how Joe and Iola handle this. Max2013: There is definitely room for lots of trouble in this mystery! Drogrorath: I try to explain a bit in this chapter why they really can't have any political support, but then the Hardys are resourceful. They'll figure something out. Thank you all again and God bless!

Chapter III

There were a lot of possible reactions that Frank was preparing himself for when he broke the news to Callie that he would be leaving for possible a few weeks and all their plans for the rest of summer would have to be pushed to the wayside. At worst, he was afraid she might be angry with him. At best, he hoped she would be supportive and understanding. The one thing he wasn't expecting was for her to start laughing.

"I don't get it," he said. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing, really," Callie said. She shook her head and tried to stop her laughing. "It's just that if it was any other guy, this would sound like some really bad attempt to break up without actually saying the words. I don't know why that struck me as funny."

The couple was strolling through one of the parks in Bayport. It was still early enough that the day wasn't hot yet, but the forecast was calling for the temperature to rise later on.

"I'm sorry," Frank said. "I know we had some plans, and I know it's not really fair to give something else priority at the drop of a hat like this."

"It's an emergency, I get that." Callie looked down at her hands. "Jim needs help, and you need answers about Black Rose, considering people's lives could be saved by putting them out of business. And this is literally your job. It should take priority over going out on dates. I really don't want to be a jealous girlfriend."

Frank halted his steps. "Wait. You're not worried about Jones being there, are you?"

"No, silly." Callie grinned. "I was talking about Madame Mystery. I know you and Jones are still friends, and that's completely fine with me. If merely being in her presence would let her steal you away from me, then that means you were never really mine, and if you're not, I'm better off knowing about this now than later, even if it isn't the most fun thing to find out about. And all that goes for Madame Mystery, too."

Frank chuckled. "Well, Ms. Shaw, let me assure you that there is no chance of either Jones or Madame Mystery stealing me away from you, even if the latter does demand a lot of my time. But she really doesn't hold a candle to you."

"She is a fickle lady, isn't she?" Callie tried to casually look away to hide her blush.

"Very." Frank paused for a moment before going on. "You know, this is a situation we're going to be in a lot. It's not the first time Dad and Joe and me have traveled for a case, and it won't be the last time. Are you sure that's something you're okay with?"

Callie nodded. "It's fine. At least, it will be fine if you're okay with me not just sitting around and pining for you. I'll miss you, of course, a lot, but I need to be an entire person on my own, too. I need to find something worthwhile I can do. I just don't know what. Any ideas?"

"Hmm. Nothing right off that isn't a cliché. But you already do worthwhile things. What about your painting?"

Callie shrugged. "It's just a hobby. Nobody besides my mother and you care about my paintings, and no offense, but you're both a tad biased."

"That's just because nobody else has seen them," Frank insisted. "You have a lot of talent. You should use it."

"Use it for what? They're just paintings. It's not like people wouldn't survive without them. The world's obviously gotten along without them this long. And there are so many great artists. What could I possibly contribute?"

"Art is important," Frank said. "Sure, people can survive without it, but it makes life better in so many ways. A really good painting can inspire people and make them happy. As for what you can contribute…You know, I've met some rich, snobby, art connoisseur-types. They might have a good taste in art, and there certainly isn't anything wrong with some of the paintings they buy and brag about, but they don't really get any good out of them. They just want them for the status. Then there are a lot of people who can get some good out of art who don't care whether it was painted Leonardo da Vinci or Callie Shaw, as long as it's something they happen to like. So there's a lot you could contribute, if you're willing to try."

"Well, I'll try. Of course, I will. You only have to give me half an excuse to keep trying. I still wish I could have gone to art school, though. I'd be able to do a lot more good that way."

"Why don't you?"

Callie shrugged again. "My parents won't go for it. They said I needed to focus on studying something that can help me get a decent job. They say studying art is a waste of time."

"Do you like your business classes?" Frank asked.

"The honest truth? I hate them. But, you know, that's life as an adult, isn't it?"

Frank shook his head. "It doesn't have to be. It doesn't seem fair that I can do something I love and you have to be stuck doing something you hate. With all due respect, I think your parents are wrong on this one."

"With all due respect, I don't think I have a lot of choice." Callie sighed, but then she squared her shoulders. "It's not all bad. It's just life, and when things don't work out the way you want them to, you just have to make the best out of what you get."

"I guess so," Frank said, but he wasn't convinced.

HBHBHBHBHB

At the same time, Joe and Iola were sitting on the back porch of the Morton house. The rest of Iola's family were away for the morning, and that left the couple the chance to talk without being interrupted.

"I know it's not as exciting as everything I had planned," Joe told her half-apologetically.

"That's okay," Iola told him. "Sitting and talking is good, too, and we haven't had the chance to do that in a long time."

"No kidding, and this will be the last chance we get for awhile, so I guess we'd better make the best of it."

"Right. Although there is something I wanted to show you." Iola bent over and pulled her shoe and sock off her right foot. She clenched her teeth and concentrated. Slowly and jerkily, her toes moved.

"Whoa!" Joe shifted his position so that he was on his knees and could see better. "That's amazing!"

"I know, isn't it?" Iola smiled broadly. "The doctors all said it was impossible that I would ever get any feeling back in my legs at all. The coach is really a wonderworker. He says that with a lot of hard work, I might even be able to walk again someday, at least a little bit."

"That's great! But I don't get how it works."

"Well, he has me do a lot of terrible exercises. I remember the first time he had me do them, I was almost in tears. I'll admit, the first couple of weeks I was there, I just wanted to go home, but Coach kept pushing me, and it's really made a difference. I'll never be able to thank him enough." Iola's eyes sparkled in a dreamy sort of way as she pulled her sock and shoe back on.

Joe's grin lost something of its genuineness as he watched that sparkle and little smile that accompanied it. "You know, I've been meaning to ask for a while now. Does this Coach have a name?"

"Of course. It's Lonny Whitaker. He has everybody call him 'Coach', though. He's really a great person, and he has a fascinating story, too."

"Oh," Joe said a bit less than enthusiastically.

Iola didn't notice. "He went into the military straight out of high school. He was in the Air Force, and he was over in Afghanistan and had to parachute out when his plane was shot down. He had a hard landing and broke his back. The doctors told him he'd never walk again, but he worked at it and worked at it. He still limps a little, but otherwise you'd never know that he'd ever been hurt. He's such an amazing person."

"Yeah. Sounds like it." Joe looked down at his hands. "How old did you say he was?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe in his forties? Somewhere in there. His kids are still little, but I don't think he got married until he was a little older."

Joe perked up. "He's married? With kids?"

"That's what I just said." Iola gave him a curious look. "Hey, wait. You weren't thinking I had a crush on him or something, were you?"

"Well, you've got to admit, the way you talk about him, kinda feels that way sometimes."

Iola rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "That's actually kind of cute that you'd be jealous of him, but no. It's not that way at all. He's like a super-cool uncle or something like that. Besides, even if he wasn't way too old for me and already taken, I'm already taken myself." She glanced away for a moment. "It was a hard decision to make, to go back to Texas for school instead of going to Clairmont with you and Frank and Callie. I've missed all you guys—especially you—so much this summer, and this will probably go on for years still. But if there's any chance I could walk again, I've got to take it. You've got to understand that, Joe."

Joe took her hand. "I do understand. Really. I would never ask you to do anything different. It's kind of a bad example, but it's kind of like this new case. I've got to go and help Jim, even though it's not too easy giving up the little bit of time we have together."

"I understand that, too," Iola assured him. "We've both gotta do what we've gotta do. And if we really are meant to be together and that's what we really want, we'll get through this and it will all be okay."

"Right."

Joe squeezed her hand and they looked at one another for a few moments before Joe leaned over and kissed her.

HBHBHBHBHB

"Fenton Hardy, have you lost your mind?" Fenton's older sister, Gertrude, was standing in the doorway of Fenton and Laura's bedroom with her arms folded. Fenton sighed as he finished zipping up his luggage case, but Gertrude carried right on. "You're taking the boys to face those insane murderers over in a country in Asia that nobody's ever even heard of before when you couldn't even stop them right here in our own backyard? Have you completely forgotten what's happened every other time you've gotten involved with Black Rose?"

"No, I haven't forgotten." Fenton turned around to face her.

"Well, let me remind you anyway," Gertrude went on, much too excited to concede a point to her brother. "The first time, in New York, they killed that Beretta couple with the three little kids, and Gregorio Moretti was killed, and his daughter was blinded, and then there was that FBI agent…What was her name?"

"Christine Roche," Fenton said quietly.

"Right, Christine Roche. And the second time, it was Mitch Johnson…"

"Stop," Fenton told her, a wave of pain washing over him as he thought of his old partner from his days with the NYPD and how Mitch had been murdered. "I know what's happened every time, Gertrude. But can't you see that's why we've got to put a stop to Black Rose?"

Gertrude's face softened. "I know, but why can't someone else stop them? I know you, and I know you feel like you can't sit back while other people do the work, but isn't it just possible that sometimes you are doing the most good by letting someone else handle? What if something happens to one of the boys? Or to you? Or to all three of you?"

"I've thought about it." Fenton rubbed his forehead as he felt a headache coming on. "Believe me, I've thought about, and not just in this case, either. Every case we've ever taken on, I've thought about it. I don't know what I'd do if…if the worst happened to either Frank or Joe, but I've come close enough to seeing it that I know it wouldn't be pretty. So trust me when I say that this is something I've wrestled with over and over again."

"And you're still going to let them go on a dangerous case like this?"

Fenton had to nod several times before he could get the words to cooperate. "Yes. Yes, I am."

"Why?" It wasn't sharp like Gertrude's questions usually were. It was almost a desperate plea, one last appeal to reason.

"Because somebody needs to and we're willing and able, and we're possibly the only people in the world who are willing and able. If it makes you feel any better, I did talk to some of my connections in the FBI. This is way out of their jurisdiction. It's way out of the jurisdiction of any U.S. agency. If the government got involved, it would cause an international incident with China, of all countries, and that's something that we have to avoid. Even us being private citizens could cause a lot of trouble, but we at least have a chance of pulling it off without risking World War III. And before you ask why I'm taking Frank and Joe instead of Sam, it's because they really are adults now. I know they do have some more growing up to do. In a way, no one is ever really done growing up, but you don't grow up by sitting back and letting other people take all the risks. They're old enough to make these decisions, and making them now is better than waiting for some future date when living in safety has made it harder for them to accept risks and time hasn't made it one bit easier on me. It's like losing them when they're forty would be any easier than it would be now. I know there's a frighteningly high chance of me living to regret those words, but as much I'd like to keep them safe from absolutely everything, I can't and I shouldn't try."

Gertrude let out a sigh. "I know, but I don't have to like it."

"I don't either," Fenton admitted. "But maybe we can learn something that will shut Black Rose down for good and we can stop worrying about them, at least."

Gertrude shrugged. "There will just be another criminal organization after them."

Before the conversation could go any further, Laura came into the room, and Gertrude used the opportunity to go and worry and pray by herself.

For a few moments, Laura didn't say anything. Then she asked, "Are you sure you're going to be all right?"

"I can't be sure about anything where Black Rose is involved."

Laura shook her head. "I didn't mean just that. You had another nightmare the other night, and don't pretend you didn't. Are you sure you're up to something like this? You need to be at the top of your game."

Fenton had his back turned and he chewed on his lip for a few seconds as he thought about how to respond. To be honest, he wasn't sure at all that he was up to this, and he was sure he couldn't convince Laura otherwise. "Nobody else is going to go if we don't. We could be missing the opportunity for some answers that we need. Besides that, the boys owe it to Jim as a friend to help him out. It's entirely possible that he could be in danger, too. We won't know until we get some more facts. As for the nightmare thing, I think putting Black Rose to rest would go a long way in curing me."

"I don't think it's that simple."

"They're dreams. Nothing more." Fenton glanced at the luggage on their bed. "Since we won't be leaving for a couple of days, I think I'll put these in the closet downstairs so we won't have to be tripping over them." He always packed a few days in advance of leaving on a case, if he had sufficient warning, so that he could spend the time up until departure attending to any other business that was necessary.

Laura followed him downstairs, and while Fenton was putting the luggage in the closet, the doorbell rang. Laura went to answer it and found Biff Hooper standing on the doorstep.

"Hi, Mrs. Hardy," Biff greeted her. "Are Frank and Joe here? I need to talk to them right away."

"They're both out on dates," Laura replied. "I'm sorry. I don't know when they're planning on getting back."

Biff bit his lip in consternation and then noticed Mr. Hardy standing behind his wife. "Oh! Mr. Hardy, you'd be even better to talk to, since it would kind of be up to you. It's about this trip to Ziyou. I want to come."

"You want to come," Fenton repeated. "Are you sure about that? This isn't like most of the other cases you've helped with. It's going to be dangerous."

"I know. That's why I want to go. I've seen what these Black Rose jokers do, and I want to help stop them. I want to help Jim, too. Don't forget, he stayed with us when he was an exchange student. We got to be really good friends, even if we haven't talked in three years."

"What about your parents and your job?"

"My parents would understand, maybe." Biff frowned, thinking about that one. "Okay, they probably wouldn't, but they can't stop me if this is something I really think I need to do. As for my job, it's just a summer job and it would be ending in a couple of weeks anyway. My boss is great. If I told him that an emergency came up, I'm sure he'd understand. Besides, if I got killed, I wouldn't have to worry about whether he'd hire me back next summer."

"That's really not funny, Biff," Laura told him.

"No, it's not," Fenton agreed. "If I was going to let you come along, I'd need to know that you were taking this seriously and that you'd do as you're told."

"I am taking it seriously," Biff insisted. "I can't help cracking a joke every now and then, but if you let me go, I won't tell any the entire time and I'd follow orders. Anything you told me to do."

"Anything?" Fenton asked.

"Absolutely anything." Biff punctuated it with several quick nods.

"Then stay home."

Biff's face fell. He opened his mouth to protest, but he realized that he'd been backed into a corner. If he tried to argue with Mr. Hardy, he'd just be proving that he couldn't follow orders and he'd never convince him to let him come along. He sighed and started to turn away. "You win, Mr. Hardy. That was a low trick, but I did say 'absolutely anything.'"

One corner of Fenton's mouth turned up slightly. "You're right. It was a low trick. But it looks like you can follow orders better than I thought. If you really think you need to come, then you've got as much right as the rest of us. I'll see if it can be arranged. I am going to hold you to those two promises, though."

Biff was still trying to process the sudden change in course that events had just taken. "Wait. You mean, I can come? That was just a test?"

"That's one way of looking at it." Fenton chuckled.

"So I can come?" Biff wrung the detective's hand enthusiastically. "Thank you, Mr. Hardy! Thank you! You won't regret it!"

I hope not, was all Fenton could think.