"We should just kill him," Hamby whined. "We aren't kidnappers. It's too much trouble."
"Well we are now," snapped Stevens, keeping his eyes the path ahead of them. "Until we're ordered to do otherwise, the kid stays alive."
Joe wondered who gave the men their orders. On the ride out of town he had remembered where he had seen them before. They had been on the FBI's website the last time he had gone there for information for his dad. Both men were wanted for murder.
The two men pulled Joe along between them down a dirt path that ended at the base of a rock outcrop. From there, they headed west for roughly a mile before coming to a stop at a log cabin. Hamby rapped on the door.
"Who is it?" snarled a deep baritone from within.
"Who do you think it is?" snapped Hamby irately.
"We got the kid," Stevens said.
"About time," returned the beefy, bearded man who opened the door. "Put him in the cellar."
A few minutes later Joe was lying on the cellar floor. His feet were now bound and the rope that wrapped around his throat ran to his wrists and then to his feet so that if he tried to free himself he would strangle. The bandana that had been stuffed in his mouth in the mall's parking lot was gone only to be replaced by a wide piece of duct tape. He was left without a blindfolded however and Joe knew that meant there was no way he was going to be released by his captors.
"Say cheese," the bearded man said mockingly as he used a Polaroid to snap a picture of Joe on the dirt floor. Joe blinked at the unexpected brightness but before his eyes could readjust to the dim light in the cellar, the light was extinguished as the door above closed after the men had exited.
"Then tell me what they're doing in Bayport!" Fenton shouted at Agent Blaine, a man in his late twenties with dirty blond hair and sharp brown eyes.
"I can't," Blaine responded in a calm voice. "It's classified. You will just have to let us do our job. We will find your son."
"That's ridiculous!" Laura inserted, her blue eyes flashing. "My husband has top security clearance. There isn't any case he can't work on."
"There's always a first, ma'am," Blaine stated, his expression sardonic. "I will be in touch," he added as he hurried from the room and out the front door.
"What a horrible man," Laura stated. "You are not going to listen to him, are you?" she demanded, rounding on her husband.
"Of course not," Fenton dismissed the notion. "I'm going to call around and see if any of the other stores have sold any shovels today to any non-regular customers," he said.
"After the fiasco at the mall, they probably just stole some," Frank said with a scowl.
"More than likely," agreed Fenton with a heavy sigh. "But we have to start somewhere. If I come up empty then you, your friends and I will have to start asking around. If the shovels were stolen then perhaps Joe is being held somewhere in the general vicinity where they went missing."
Agent Blaine stepped into the passenger side of the car and pulled out a walkie-talkie. "I want all communication monitored," he instructed his men. "I want to know where each Hardy is at all times," he ended.
"Even the woman?" asked the driver, quirking a sandy brow.
Blaine gave a curt nod. "Oh yes," he stated. "We can't allow the enemy to use the boy and the enemy might consider Mrs. Hardy a weak link and go through her."
"They are going to kill the boy," the driver stated.
Blaine nodded. "There is more at stake here than just one life. But I have heard a lot about the youth. I am sure he would make the sacrifice himself."
Joe wondered who gave the men their orders. On the ride out of town he had remembered where he had seen them before. They had been on the FBI's website the last time he had gone there for information for his dad. Both men were wanted for murder.
The two men pulled Joe along between them down a dirt path that ended at the base of a rock outcrop. From there, they headed west for roughly a mile before coming to a stop at a log cabin. Hamby rapped on the door.
"Who is it?" snarled a deep baritone from within.
"Who do you think it is?" snapped Hamby irately.
"We got the kid," Stevens said.
"About time," returned the beefy, bearded man who opened the door. "Put him in the cellar."
A few minutes later Joe was lying on the cellar floor. His feet were now bound and the rope that wrapped around his throat ran to his wrists and then to his feet so that if he tried to free himself he would strangle. The bandana that had been stuffed in his mouth in the mall's parking lot was gone only to be replaced by a wide piece of duct tape. He was left without a blindfolded however and Joe knew that meant there was no way he was going to be released by his captors.
"Say cheese," the bearded man said mockingly as he used a Polaroid to snap a picture of Joe on the dirt floor. Joe blinked at the unexpected brightness but before his eyes could readjust to the dim light in the cellar, the light was extinguished as the door above closed after the men had exited.
"Then tell me what they're doing in Bayport!" Fenton shouted at Agent Blaine, a man in his late twenties with dirty blond hair and sharp brown eyes.
"I can't," Blaine responded in a calm voice. "It's classified. You will just have to let us do our job. We will find your son."
"That's ridiculous!" Laura inserted, her blue eyes flashing. "My husband has top security clearance. There isn't any case he can't work on."
"There's always a first, ma'am," Blaine stated, his expression sardonic. "I will be in touch," he added as he hurried from the room and out the front door.
"What a horrible man," Laura stated. "You are not going to listen to him, are you?" she demanded, rounding on her husband.
"Of course not," Fenton dismissed the notion. "I'm going to call around and see if any of the other stores have sold any shovels today to any non-regular customers," he said.
"After the fiasco at the mall, they probably just stole some," Frank said with a scowl.
"More than likely," agreed Fenton with a heavy sigh. "But we have to start somewhere. If I come up empty then you, your friends and I will have to start asking around. If the shovels were stolen then perhaps Joe is being held somewhere in the general vicinity where they went missing."
Agent Blaine stepped into the passenger side of the car and pulled out a walkie-talkie. "I want all communication monitored," he instructed his men. "I want to know where each Hardy is at all times," he ended.
"Even the woman?" asked the driver, quirking a sandy brow.
Blaine gave a curt nod. "Oh yes," he stated. "We can't allow the enemy to use the boy and the enemy might consider Mrs. Hardy a weak link and go through her."
"They are going to kill the boy," the driver stated.
Blaine nodded. "There is more at stake here than just one life. But I have heard a lot about the youth. I am sure he would make the sacrifice himself."