Chapter 15

Frank stood at the edge of the forest staring into the trees. In the darkening night, he saw the shadow of something large dart through the underbrush. Heart pounding, Frank tried to back away but a cry for help made him stop dead. The voice was Joe's!

"Joe!" Frank yelled as he started to run towards the forest. But something stopped him.

Joe screamed again and Frank struggled furiously against the iron grip that held him.

"Let me go!" he yelled. "I need to help my brother!"

The grip on Frank tightened. He couldn't breathe.

Joe screamed again, a horrible blood-curling scream, followed by a bone chilling silence.

"Let me go! Let me go!" Frank screamed. "I need to help my brother!"

"You're brother's dead!" a voice whispered in his ear. "And you killed him. You sent him out into the woods."

"No!" Frank sobbed. "No!"

"Yes," the voice said. "And you killed your mother too…"

A masked figure appeared in front of Frank, holding his mother.

"Mom!" Frank cried.

His mother smiled at him as the masked figure put a gun to her head.

"You did this," the voice taunted. "Your plan failed. It's all your fault."

"NO! NO! PLEASE!" Frank screamed and fought furiously against whatever was holding him.

The masked man pulled the trigger and there was a deafening bang. Frank's mother disappeared before his eyes.

"MOM!" The scream tore from Frank's throat.

The masked figure turned to face Frank and pointed the gun. Frank froze.

This is all my fault, he thought.

Frank heard the gunshot and then he was falling…

Frank shot up in bed, his heart thumping wildly. Glancing down, he saw his mother asleep beside him. It was a dream, he told himself, trying to breathe normally. Just a dream.

Frank glanced at the window. He could see the first watery rays of the morning sun filtering through the glass.

It's morning, he realised. They'll be here soon.

Frank lay back down. He had already started to question his plan the night before, and the dream had rattled him. Now that the time had come to execute his plan, he was terrified.

What if it all went wrong?

Frank bit his lip and shook his head, trying to erase the brutal images that his dream had left him with. Tears welled up in his eyes and he felt his breathing hitch painfully in his throat. If anything happened to Joe or his mother because of his plan…

No! Frank scolded himself. Don't think like that! It's too late to turn back now, you can do this.

Slowly, Frank regained control of his emotions. Everything had gone according to plan. Joe had had the whole night to get help before the kidnappers discovered he was gone. The basement was sealed up tight. Everything was as Frank had intended it. Things would be fine.

Just then, Frank heard footsteps coming towards the basement and quickly shut his eyes. He wanted the kidnappers to think he was still asleep.

Frank heard the click of the lock and then the door opened. Footsteps came towards the bed. He lay still, not daring to move.

"What the…" he heard a voice gasp. Footsteps moved hurriedly around the basement. Still Frank didn't move.

Seconds later, Frank heard the voice bellow, "TRENT! GET DOWN HERE! WE GOT A PROBLEM!"

Frank decided it was time to wake up. Moving his head slowly and yawning slightly, Frank rubbed his eyes. He heard heavy footsteps thunder downstairs to the basement and sat up slowly, pretending to blink as two more masked men rushed into the basement. One of them was carrying a gun.

"Are you crazy?" snarled the man with the gun. "What did I tell you? No names…"

"We've got bigger problems," interrupted the man nearest to the bed. Frank recognised him as the man with the English accent.

"What do you mean?" demanded the other man.

The leader, Frank realised feeling a slight shiver run down his back. This man scared him more than any of the others.

"The blond kid's gone!"

"What do you mean he's gone?" demanded the leader. "How could he be gone?"

"I don't know," the man with the English accent growled. "But he ain't here!"

Seeing Frank awake, the leader moved quickly to the bed. Frank did his best to look sleepy eyed.

The leader grabbed him by the collar and hauled him out of bed.

"Where's your brother?" he spat at Frank.

"I don't know," Frank lied.

"What do you mean you don't know!" The leader shook Frank roughly. "Where is he?"

"I don't know!" cried Frank fearfully. It had been part of his plan to act scared, but Frank was now realising that this was the one part of the plan that he wouldn't have to act.

The leader struck Frank hard across the face. "You'd better start talking and you'd better start talking now, or I'll make you very sorry!" His last words were heavy with inflection and Frank gulped. "Where is your brother?"

"I d-don't know," gasped Frank. "One of the men took him to the bathroom last night and he never came back!"

"WHAT!" the leader roared and dropped Frank to the floor so quickly that he toppled backwards.

He whirled around to face the other two men. "Which of you did it? Where's the kid?"

The other two men didn't answer. Frank couldn't see their faces, but he could practically hear their shock in the ringing silence that followed the accusation.

Finally, one of them spoke. "I didn't come near the Hardys last night! Once they were fed, they were locked up and that was it!" It was the young voiced man.

"That kid's lying," snarled the man with the English accent.

The leader turned back and stared down at Frank who was cowering on the floor. "Where's your brother?" His voice was quiet, but it held a frightening menace. Frank started to shake a little.

"I don't know!" he whimpered. "He never came back." Frank looked at the other two men. This was it, he needed to make the leader believe one of them had done it. "Please," he implored, "where's my brother?"

The leader hit the roof. "YOU DIRTY DOUBLECROSSERS! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TRYING TO PULL?"

"Nothing!" the man with the English accent insisted angrily. "Both kids and the woman were here last night when I checked on them. I'm telling you, that kid's lying!"

"If he's lying then where's the other kid?" demanded the leader. "'Cause he sure as hell didn't just walk out that door!"

Frank could hear the doubt and distrust in his voice.

The window then!" the man with the English accent shot back.

"I nailed that shut!" snapped the man with the young voice. "Look, I'll prove it to you!" He strode over to the window and tugged at it.

Frank prayed that the window would hold.

It did. "See?" said the young voiced man.

The leader was silent for several minutes, looking from one man to another. Finally, he turned again to Frank. "Which one of them was it?" he asked.

"What?" said Frank, confused.

"Which one of them was it? Which one of them took your brother?"

"I don't know," Frank told him.

"You're not a very bright kid, are you?" said the leader in a low growl. "It seems there's a lot you don't know!"

"I don't know! He was wearing a mask!" said Frank.

"We're all wearing masks!" snapped the leader.

"Then how am I supposed to know which one is which?" said Frank as he sniffed, playing up the little-boy-lost act.

The leader turned back to the other two men and raised his gun at them. "You two had better start talking, and you'd better start talking now! Where's that kid?"

The men started to yell at one another and Frank felt a little flutter of triumph. His plan was working. Not only were the men not looking for Joe, but they were arguing amongst themselves, doubting each other. Frank hoped that meant they would slip up when Joe arrived with help.

If he arrives with help.

The unsettling thought flashed in his mind as Frank remembered the dream.

No! Frank insisted silently. Joe's fine. He got away. He'll get help.

The men had forgotten Frank who was still sitting on the floor. Frank watched them continue to argue, his elation growing with every minute. The men were now too distracted to maintain their previous vigilance.

Suddenly, from behind him came a noise that made his heart sink. A groan.

Laura Hardy was waking up.

Frank turned to see his mother emerge from beneath the blankets, her eyes blurry with sleep and fever.

Laura tried to sit up. The shouting and yelling had permeated through the thick fog in her head and pulled her from a feverish torpor. She shook her head, disoriented and confused.

What's going on?

Harsh male voices sounded in her ear and made her throbbing head ache.

Why don't they keep it down?

Shivering, Laura wondered why she felt so cold. She opened her eyes and the room spun a little. Fighting a wave of dizziness, Laura sat up. After a few seconds, the room stopped spinning. Laura didn't recognise her surroundings. She was in a dingy basement.

Confused, Laura looked down and saw Frank sitting on the floor in front of her, his eyes wide with fear. Something broke through the fog in her head.

Men…

Laura looked in the direction of the harsh voices. Three masked men were yelling at one another, and one of them had a gun trained on the other two.

Their kidnappers.

Laura pulled herself out of her stupor. They were hostages. Her sons needed her. Laura looked down at Frank again and realised something.

"Frank, where's Joe?"

Her voice alerted the men to their presence once more, and they turned towards them. Laura ignored them. Her eyes frantically scanned the basement.

"Frank, where's Joe?" she demanded, her voice hoarse, but rising with every syllable.

"That's a very good question," growled the leader, his gun still pointing at the other men.

"What do you mean? Where is he? Where's my son?" Laura cried, as she tossed off the blankets and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

"No idea," growled the man with the English accent.

"WHAT?" cried Laura as she stood up, tottering unsteadily.

"Sit your ass back down, lady!" the leader snapped.

"I won't! Where's my son? Where is he?"

There was an edge of hysteria in her voice that frightened Frank. The leader looked far too trigger-happy to be dealing with his hysterical mother right now.

"Mom," he whispered. "Sit down! Please sit down!"

"What have you done with my son?" she demanded, moving towards the men.

"I said sit down!" shouted the leader as he swung his gun on Laura.

But Laura ignored him. Delirious with fever, panic and worry, she didn't even notice the gun.

"Mom, please!" Frank begged. His plan was falling apart, and he felt panic rise as the image from his dream entered his thoughts. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of the masked men move towards the leader.

"You'd better sit down if you don't want to die!" the leader told her, cocking the trigger.

"NO!" screamed Frank, terrified, as he watched things spin out of control.

Laura paused, unsure, and looked back at Frank. The leader also glanced at him.

The distraction was all the other man needed. Lunging at the leader, he went for the gun.

They wrestled with one another, each one keeping a firm grip on the gun. The other man was yelling at them and, in all the chaos, Frank saw what his mother was going to do a split second too late.

"Mom! No!" he screamed as she grabbed for the gun.

Frank's heart shot into his throat with terror as he watched his mother wrestle with the men.

And then the gun went off.

Fenton Hardy stood staring at the scene before him.

He had only gone a few feet with the other men when he realised that he hadn't really said goodbye to Joe. The thought bothered him in light of all that had happened in the last two days, and Fenton had motioned to the others to stop and wait before running back to Joe. If anything happened to him, at least Joe's last memory of him wouldn't be one in which he was turning his back.

He had returned to discover his son struggling in the grip of a man Fenton thought he could trust; a police officer.

Fenton heard the man's words to Joe and bile rose in his throat.

"Take your hands off my son, you bastard!" he snarled.

Rawston and Joe looked up as Fenton stepped towards them. Joe was wild eyed with fear and Rawston looked furious.

"You came back," Rawston commented uselessly.

"Lucky I did!" Fenton said dangerously, taking another step towards them.

Rawston retreated, dragging Joe with him. "Stay there, Hardy, I'm warning you."

"Rawston?" an incredulous voice behind Fenton gasped. The detective turned to see Sheriff Coombs standing behind him, staring in shock at Rawston. He had returned to see where Fenton had gone.

"What's going on?" the sheriff demanded. "Fenton?"

"Damned if I know!" growled Fenton, not taking his eyes off Rawston or Joe.

JR continued to bark furiously in the back of the car.

Suddenly, Joe bit down hard on Rawston's fingers and he pulled his hand from Joe's mouth quickly. "Why you little…"

"Dad! He's one of the kidnappers!" Joe cried out.

Fenton and the sheriff's mouths dropped open in simultaneous shock.

"Rawston?" the sheriff spluttered. "You're the local man?"

"You'd better believe it!" Rawston sneered.

"But…why?" The sheriff couldn't understand it. Rawston had been his deputy for five years.

"WHY?" Rawston yelled. "Because I was sick of being your dogsbody! Sick of this damn town where everybody knows your business and nobody forgets your past! There's nowhere to hide in this town…but I found somewhere!" he added with a mad glint in his eye.

"How?" said the sheriff. "I just don't understand…"

"You're not supposed to, you fat bastard!" Rawston spat. "You stay where you are!" he yelled suddenly at Fenton who had been edging quietly away from the sheriff and out of Rawston's line of vision. "Or I'll break the kid's neck!"

Fenton stopped moving.

Rawston looked him directly in the eye. "The big man!" he jeered. "The great detective, Fenton Hardy, and I had him fooled!"

"And it looks like these men have you fooled," said Fenton in a low voice. "How did they talk you into all this? Blackmail? Bribery?"

Rawston gave another laugh that sent shivers down Joe's spine.

"You make bribery sound like a bad thing! Do you know the kind of money I'm getting for my help? More than enough to get me out of this town and set me up for life!"

"You think so?" said Fenton coldly. "How do you know they won't just kill you when they don't need you anymore?"

"Come off it!" Rawston scoffed. "I'm not going to be cowed by a line like that! They paid me cash up front! Why bother if they were going to kill me? Hardy, the only people they intend to kill is your family!"

Joe had been listening to this exchange with a growing sense of horror. It was finally dawning on him what these men might do to his mother and brother, what they would do if his father didn't get there on time.

Rawston had not expected a child as small as Joe to be of any great threat to him, and had loosened his hold a little as he taunted Fenton.

Joe felt it slacken. Fuelled by the terror of what might happen to his mother and Frank, Joe twisted around quickly in Rawston's grip and kneed him hard in the groin. "Ooof!" gasped Rawston, releasing Joe and doubling forward in pain.

In blind panic, Joe swung his small fist at Rawston's face.

"Ow!" Joe cried as his fist collided with Rawston's nose and Rawston yelled in pain.

"You little…" Rawston screamed as he lurched at Joe.

But Joe's actions had given Fenton the time he needed to act. He was on Rawston in a second, knocking him to the ground.

"I don't think so!" Fenton snarled, as he pinned Rawston down and twisted his arm behind him. Rawston howled in pain.

"Sheriff, give me your handcuffs," said Fenton, just as Con, Jack and Tom raced towards them.

"What's going on?" demanded Con, taking in the scene before him.

Sheriff Coombs handed Fenton his handcuffs and turned to face Con. "It would seem that Rawston is the local man helping those thugs," he said grimly.

"What!" said Con. "How…"

"No time for explanations," said Fenton as he cuffed Rawston and hauled him to his feet. "We've wasted too much time. We have to get to the house. Sheriff, can you watch Rawston?"

"Sorry, Fenton, but I'm afraid I don't want to be held responsible for what I'll do if I'm left alone with this man," said Sheriff Coombs, an ugly look on his face.

"I'll do it," Tom offered.

"There's a spare pistol in the trunk of the patrol car," Sheriff Coombs told him. "You have my full permission to use it if this scum even puts one toe out of line!"

Tom nodded, walked to the patrol car and popped the trunk.

"If there's any spare handcuffs in there, bring them too," called Fenton. "We'll need something to subdue the others with."

"There's only three of them now," said Jack, watching Tom hand the spare cuffs to Fenton.

"We don't know that," said Fenton. "The safest thing to do is assume there's more, that way we can't be surprised. Ready?"

The others nodded and Fenton turned to Joe. "Are you okay?" he asked. He could see that Joe was near tears, but didn't want to cry in front of the other men.

"Yeah," Joe whispered, his voice tight.

"Good," said Fenton. "You were very brave, Joe. I'm very proud of you." Turning to Tom, he asked, "are you sure you can handle him?"

"Sure can," said Tom calmly, as he coolly aimed the gun at Rawston's trussed up figure. "Never did like you much, Rawston, always figured you were a no good son-of-a-gun!"

"Yeah, well, now he's evidence," growled Fenton. Stooping, he picked Joe up. "Let's go," he said to the men.

They looked at Joe, startled.

"Fenton, what…" Con began but Fenton cut him off.

"Joe's coming with us. No arguments."

Fenton turned and started to walk up the path.

Con looked at Sam, surprised, but Sam merely shrugged and started to follow Fenton.

"Better not to ask," he called to the others. Silently, they moved after them.

As they drew near the house, Fenton put Joe on the ground and knelt beside him.

"Joe, I'm heading in there to get your mom and Frank," he said. "But I need you to stay here. I want you to hide behind a tree and don't come out until I tell you, no matter what!"

Joe nodded, his heart thumping hopefully. Soon, his mother and brother would be safe.

"Good boy," said Fenton. "Which way is the basement?"

"Round the back," Joe whispered.

Fenton turned to the men. "First, we check that Frank and Laura are still locked in the basement and out of harm's way, then we surprise the kidnappers."

The men nodded their agreement and Fenton smiled grimly. "Okay, lets do it. Joe, get out of sight."

Once Joe was obscured from view, Fenton nodded to the other men and they moved silently towards the back of the house. They were almost there when the sound of a gun shot echoed from the basement.

A/N: Once again, thanks to everyone who reviewed. Feedback is always wonderful, and any writer I know thrives on it!

Soapymouth: Actually, I do like Fenton. I just feel that in the books he can be a bit too career oriented and as I'm developing a Hardy Boys series, I wanted Fenton to have a nasty shock to make him appreciate his family more.

MBsinger: Thank you very much, I'm glad you like the story.

Paperdaises: I'm glad you think the chapters are action packed. And you're right, Joe sure manages to attract a lot of trouble!