THE NETWORK MYSTERY

By Cassidy Montague

Chapter Six – "Secret Agents and Bunny Rabbits"

"Calm down, Joseph," Fenton Hardy reached out a hand and grabbed his youngest son's shoulder, forcing the younger man to slow down his frenetic walking to stand beside him. The blonde haired youth turned slowly, his blue eyes focused on something in the distance for just a moment before he met Fenton's brown-eyed gaze. The detective waited a moment until he was sure that his son was fully with him before he spoke again.

"Just calm down, son," Fenton released the shoulder he held but kept Joe's gaze. The teenager took a deep, slow, long breath and Fenton saw the rigid tension in Joe's shoulders ease a little until his son stood more easily at his side and nodded. "We aren't going to do Frank any good by going off half-cocked, you know that don't you?"

"I know that," Joe agreed. "I know all kinds of things. Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens. I'm trying to think of all kinds of happy thoughts to calm down but they all lead me back to Frank and I remember he's gone and I tense up again. Lucky me, huh?"

"Huh," Fenton echoed. "Raindrops on roses… didn't you hate that movie?"

Joe shrugged and brushed a blonde curl out of his eyes. The younger boy stared pensively at his father.

"I despise that movie," Joe admitted casually. "But that damned song… sorry, darned song… got stuck in my head and I can't get it out. I might as well think of something just as innocuous – like bunny rabbits and baby birds. None of it works."

Fenton sighed and shook his head. "Maybe bringing you out here was a mistake."

"Maybe bringing me out here was the right thing," Joe countered in a steady voice. "After all, you need back-up just as much as I did and Sam isn't available."

Sam Radley, Fenton Hardy's partner, was on vacation in Bermuda for the next two weeks and there was no way Fenton was going to call him home when his wedding anniversary was coming up. Ellen Radley was a calm, patient and caring woman but she had her moments when some things were just too much, such as an absent husband for her wedding anniversary.

Fenton smiled, remembering his own tenth anniversary with Laura. Frank had been all of five back then and Joe had been about to turn four. They had persuaded Gertrude to stay with the boys – the start of a tradition around the Hardy house – and had gone off to a romantic cruise around Barmet Bay. Fenton still remembered how beautiful his wife was, dressed in a plunging v-line dress that took his breath away even now. A tenth anniversary was a special thing – Fenton would definitely hold off on calling in Radley, even with Frank missing.

I'll just have to cope with the yelling later, Fenton thought. He knew for sure, too. When Radley got home and found out that Frank had been kidnapped, he would go ballistic that Fenton didn't call him.

Joe shifted uneasily on the pavement, his sneakers squishing slightly in a puddle as they walked slowly down the sidewalk toward the train station. This late at night it was deserted; there were no trains expected in or out for several hours and they would have it all to themselves – hopefully – during the meeting with Gray. Fenton wondered just what was going through his son's mind – Joe was quiet and apprehensive, both unusual states for his youngest. Used to kinetic energy and a forceful personality from the blonde-haired boy, quiet seemed unnatural and a little gut wrenching.

Fenton vowed to find Frank – in one piece – if it killed him. Not only for himself and for his mother, but for the young man walking beside him. Joe wouldn't cope well if something happened to Frank. Not that he would either but Joe…

Stay alive, Frank, Fenton thought again.

"You remember that rabbit we found when I was… I think I was about eight?" Joe asked his father a few minutes later.

Back to rabbits again? Fenton thought. He cast his memory back to the past and did, indeed, find a memory of the boys finding a rabbit in the backyard. Joe, all tousle headed and excited, bounced happily beside Frank who held a soft ball of fluff in his hands. The dark-haired boy sat their prize on the table and Fenton remembered seeing the sorriest excuse of rabbit-hood he'd ever seen.

"I remember," Fenton said out loud.

"Frank didn't want to bring it in," Joe said softly. "He said the rabbit wouldn't be happy indoors, that it was an outdoor rabbit. I kept badgering him, though, until he'd bring the rabbit inside and he did. And then the rabbit bit Aunt Gertrude on the finger and we had to take it and Aunt Gertrude to the hospital to get them both checked for rabies."

"Yeeeeees," Fenton drew the word out into a slow hiss. "I do remember that. Why are you thinking of that now?"

"I don't know, really," Joe sighed forlornly. "I just got to thinking about rabbits and I remembered that one. I wanted to name it Fluffy since it was all fluffy but I didn't get a chance."

Joe looked over at his father again and stopped walking.

"I just don't want what's going on with Frank to turn out like what happened to Fluffy," Joe stuffed his hands into his pockets. "And I hope he bites them. Hard."

Startled, Fenton laughed. "He just might, son," Fenton continued to smile. "He just might."

Joe looked around the station and motioned to Track B. "We're here. Where's Gray at?"

Fenton looked around as well and saw no sign of the older agent. He put his hand into his pocket, fingering the revolver he carried there and he motioned to Joe.

"Stay close to me, son," he ordered. "I'm starting to get a really funny feeling about this."

"You think Gray might be behind Frank's kidnapping?" Joe stepped closer to his father, obeying instinctively. "That this is all a trap of some kind?"

"It might be," Fenton admitted. "So we're going to have to be twice as careful."

Joe shivered slightly and drew his jacket more tightly about himself. Fenton stepped forward slowly, leaving the gun in his pocket but ready to pull it at any moment. He stopped walking when he saw the shadow of a man near the wall on the other side of Track B and he walked cautiously toward the shadow.

"Gray?" he called out softly. "Come out. We're here."

"I was expecting Frank and Joe," Arthur Gray stepped out of the darkness, his shadow receding as he walked forward. "Not you."

"I'm a pinch-hitter," Fenton narrowed his eyes at the agent. Dressed in his usual non-descript gray clothing, Arthur Gray looked years older than the last time Fenton saw him. His hand shook slightly with the cold and the jacket the older man wore looked too light to deal with the cool air. "What's going on?"

Gray looked around, a cautious expression on his face. "I wanted to tell Frank to forget he saw me this morning," Gray said. "That if he tells anyone what he knows – if any of you tell anyone what you know – you could all be in danger."

"It's a little late for that," Joe glared hostilely at the agent, smacking one hand into the other. It made a sound that caused Gray to jump just a little and step backward. "As if you don't know."

"Joe," Fenton warned his son, holding his hand and making a step back motion to the youth.

"What is it I don't know?" Gray demanded as he slumped further into the rumbled jacket. "I'm afraid I'm out of the loop at the moment."

"Frank was kidnapped today," Joe retorted hotly. "Right from our house. Three gunmen came in, scared my mother half to death, tied all of us up and took Frank, right from the house. Three men in business suits. Your agents I bet."

"If they are I know nothing about it," Gray stepped forward, an angry expression on his face. "I'm out of the loop right now. Persona non grata. There's a shoot-to-kill order out there. Any agent who sees me will do me in immediately. You won't have to worry about killing me yourself, Joseph. My fellow agents will be more than happy to do it."

"Why did they take Frank?" Fenton said. "I assume you have some reasoning for that."

"I don't know," Gray said. "I didn't tell a soul that I know he saw me at the church this morning. I left the note on the front seat of the van when it was at the mall and let it go. The only thing I can think of is they're watching you. They may have overheard one or all of you talking about it. Since Frank was the only person who actually saw me, well, he's the one that they wanted to take. He'll be able to tell them about the diamonds…"

"Yeah, Gray, what about those diamonds?" Joe demanded as he smacked his hands together again. Fenton glared at his son. "Have a sudden urge to buy illegally obtained diamonds?"

"I do if I want to clear my name," Gray said. "I do if I want to have any chance to live through this whole thing."

Joe shook his head. "I don't believe a word you're saying. I think you took Frank for your own reasons and you're either going to kill him or use him for your own purposes. I've seen what you do with agents!"

Fenton held out a hand to his son again, making a calming motion. Joe sighed and shook his head.

"Fine," he said. "Just fine."

Fenton turned back to Gray. "My son, while sometimes a hothead, has a few valid points. You haven't exactly proven yourself to be trustworthy in the past, Gray. You've damned near gotten my sons killed more than once in the past and I know you'd do anything you have to if it meant getting what you want or need. Taking Frank may be part of some sick game you're playing. What assurance do we have that it isn't?"

Gray glared at him and crossed his arms angrily.

"What kind of proof do you want?" Gray demanded. "Do you want someone to shoot me? Is that going to prove to you I'm being sincere? I don't exactly have proof."

Fenton shrugged mildly. "Then it seems we're at a standstill. My first thought here is to take you into the police station and let them question you."

"Then you might as well take that gun you're carrying and shoot me now," Gray retorted. "Because it will have the same effect!"

"Okay," Fenton said. "Can you help us find Frank? If your people – or one of the other agencies – has him, then we don't have a hope on our own of getting him back anytime soon."

Gray sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I might be able to help," he admitted. "But I'm going to have to be very careful about what I do and you can't be dogging me the whole time. I do have a place for you to start, however. There's a building on the outskirts of town that's owned by the Network – at least if you trace ownership far enough it's owned by the Network. 19198 Prince Henry Boulevard. Know where that is?"

"I know the area," Fenton said mildly.

"Then you might start there. But be careful, they have the place wired six ways from Sunday."

Fenton nodded. "Fine. And what will you be doing?"

"Getting a large weight off my back. I've got a few people I can still trust, I'll find out what I can from them. In the meantime, do NOT mention to anyone that you saw me. If you do, they could come after you as well. I'm surprised that they didn't take all of you."

"Of course they didn't take all of us," Joe said. "After all, if they took me or Frank, or both of us, Dad's busy running around trying to find Frank but leaving them alone. If they take Dad, though, or the whole family, then they get every alphabet agency out there and a few people haven't heard of down on them like wet on rain. Speaking of which Dad, why don't we have your contacts helping out?"

Fenton said nothing in answer that. He merely regarded his son with a good-natured smile and Joe desisted.

"Boys," Gray said suddenly as he drifted back toward the shadows. "Be very careful. The men who have taken over the Network are not nice people and they are out to cause real damage. Whatever you do, look over your shoulder at all times."

Fenton nodded. "Naturally."

Gray disappeared into the shadows and darkness a moment later, leaving Fenton and Joe on their own. As father and son continued back toward their parked car, Joe turned to his father, a half-amused smile on his face.

"Do you trust him?" Joe asked softly.

"Not as far as I can throw him," Fenton admitted. "But it doesn't mean I'm going to ignore any possible leads he gives us. I'm – we are just going to be cautious when we do it."

Joe grinned. "Let's go find Frank, dad."

"Let's do," Fenton agreed.

It was so crowded where he lay. And cold.

Frank coughed and sniffed as he huddled into a tighter ball and tried to get warm. It felt like the whole world was moving around him and his stomach complained as he was jostled and jiggled and waggled all over the place. Something smelled bad, too, and there was something hard underneath his right hip.

Frank moaned and regretted it; a fiery pain took place of the scratchy ache in his throat and he huddled even more tightly as he tried to ease the pain, ease the cold, get comfortable.

What happened to his nice warm couch?

Unable to stay awake, Frank drifted off again into a cold, uncomfortable, sleep….