Chapter 16
Frank watched in horrified slow motion as the masked man who had been yelling from the side slumped to the floor. A little puddle of blood began to form beneath him, and the scuffle in the middle of the room stopped as everyone froze.
"Look what you've done!" the man with the English accent yelled at the leader, panic evident in his voice.
The leader ignored him, using the moment to wrench the gun from his and Laura's grasp. Quickly, he pistol whipped Laura across the temple before smashing her up against the wall. Laura collapsed in a heap on the ground.
"MOM!" Frank screamed and started towards his mother.
The leader grabbed him before he could reach her and twisted Frank's arm at a painful angle. The little boy cried out in pain.
"Oh God! Oh God!" the man with the English accent was muttering, as he knelt beside the injured masked man who was moaning in pain.
"Get up!" the leader ordered harshly.
The other man looked at him. "What?"
"You heard me!" snapped the leader. "Get up! We have work to do."
The man with the English accent didn't move.
"He's hurt! We need to get him to a hospital."
"And just how do you plan on getting him to a hospital without explaining what happened?" asked the leader in a cold voice.
"I don't know, but we can't just leave him here," said the man with the English accent.
"We can and we will," said the leader in a dangerous voice. "Take him to the hospital and you could lead the cops or Fenton Hardy straight to us. And I don't think Alan Troy would be very happy if that were to happen, do you?"
The other man gasped. "What are you doing? You're using names…"
"It doesn't matter now," the leader cut him off. "One kid's gone, she" - he indicated Laura - "is half-dead already and this kid knows my name. I'm afraid that none of the Hardys will be returning home. We just need to keep these two around long enough to control Hardy and hide the fact that we don't have the other kid anymore."
The leaders voice was calm and deliberate as he pronounced the fate of the Hardy family. Frank went rigid, too horrified to cry.
The other man spoke up at once. "No way! I didn't sign on for this! Kidnapping is one thing, but you're talking about murder."
"That's exactly what you signed on for," the leader coldly informed him. "Did you really think Alan Troy would have let them return home to Daddy dearest after all he's done?"
"But…the masks…we didn't use names…" the other man spluttered. "What was the point if we were never going to let them live?"
"Because I wanted you and dumbass on the floor there to believe it!" the leader sneered. "I knew you two would have a problem with that element of the plan so I fudged a few facts. Of course, he's not really a problem anymore, is he?" He indicated the injured man who was still moaning on the floor.
The other man edged away from the leader towards the door of the basement. "Count me out," he said. "I want no part in this."
"Coward!" spat the leader, as he trained his gun on the other man. The other man stopped dead. "You're all talk, but when it comes to doing the dirty work, you want to run away like a little girl! But unfortunately for you, pal, that's not an option here. You're either in this all the way or you end up like him!"
The other man was silent. Frank could see that he had no idea what to do.
And neither had Frank.
He had been listening to the exchange between the two men with mounting terror, realising that there was no way out for him and his mother. They were dead. His plan had failed.
The other man edged a little closer to the door.
"Stay where you are," the leader warned him quietly, keeping his gun trained on him. He forced Frank forward where the boy could no longer see his mother; Laura and the injured kidnapper were now behind them.
"What are you doing?" asked the other man, apprehension in his voice as he eyed the gun.
"Do you know something?" said the leader, ignoring the question. "I don't like you, Johnny, and I don't trust you. You and that other dumbass wouldn't have been my first choice for this…but then, he didn't really want to do this, he needed a certain amount of persuasion!" The leader laughed coldly. "That's why I never trusted him either! And when the other kid went missing, I knew I was right. In fact, I'd be doing Mr. Troy a big favour if I wiped you both out now."
The leader took careful aim.
"Trent, please, no!" the other man begged.
Frank heard the click of the hammer being cocked somewhere above him and closed his eyes. He didn't want to see this.
"FREEZE!" he heard a familiar voice yell, and opened his eyes in shock.
Fenton Hardy stood framed in the doorway, his gun aimed straight at the man holding Frank.
Fenton Hardy stood in the doorway to the dank basement and attempted to keep his surging emotions under control.
Every terrifying thought, every horrifying emotion, had risen to the surface when he had heard the gunshot echo from the basement. It had taken every ounce of strength that Sam possessed to stop him from rushing straight down into the basement. Con had chanced a peek through the basement window and consoled Fenton with the news that it was one of the kidnappers who had been shot. He had neglected to tell Fenton that Laura Hardy was also lying on the floor.
The men had then snuck around to the front of the house and composed an emergency plan. Sam and Jack would remain outside, both to prevent any escapes and to surprise the kidnappers if necessary. Fenton, Con and Sheriff Coombs would enter the house and confront them.
They had entered the house and moved silently towards the basement. Hearing the end of the kidnappers' conversation, Fenton felt his alarm rise. He wasn't sure what had caused the argument, but if this man was prepared to shoot one of his own, then Frank and Laura could be next.
Fenton couldn't let that happen.
He moved into view while gesturing to Con and Sheriff Coombs to remain hidden.
"FREEZE!" he yelled as he surveyed the scene in front of him.
The sight turned his blood to ice. The injured kidnapper lay just behind the kidnapper with the gun, blood pooling out slowly beneath him. Laura lay a few feet away from him and was out of the line of fire.
But Frank was directly in it.
"Hardy?" the leader gasped and quickly aimed the gun at Frank's head. "Make one move and I'll blow his brains out!"
The man with the gun had the child's arm twisted up at a painful angle and Fenton could see the small face contorted in pain.
Fenton knew he had to keep his cool. His family's lives depended on it.
"It's over, let him go," said Fenton quietly, his gun steady.
"You think so?" the man sneered. "And it hasn't occurred to you that there are others?"
"We've already got Rawston," Fenton calmly informed him.
Frank was sure he heard the man's jaw drop behind his mask.
The leader recovered quickly. "Rawston's not the only one. Where do you think your other kid is?"
Fenton said nothing. He knew that Joe was safe and that the kidnapper was just trying to cow him into submission.
The leader also maintained a steadfast silence, his grip on Frank unwavering.
It was the man with the English accent who finally broke the silent stalemate.
"Trent, come on, let the kid go," he pleaded. "We're done for kidnapping, let's not go down for murder as well."
"Don't be stupid! We're not done, it's two against one," the leader reminded him.
"Actually," said Fenton, as Con and Sheriff Coombs stepped into view, "it's three against two."
The leader gave a strangled howl of anger. "Yeah? Well, we've still got him!"
He yanked Frank's arm higher, causing the boy to whimper in pain.
"Trent," said the other man, his voice now a high-pitched whine. "I don't want to go down for murder."
"Shut up!" the leader hissed. "What do you think Scott lying on the floor is? You were trying to take the gun from me…for all I know, you could have pulled the trigger!"
"I never touched the trigger!" the other man shot back. "And there's no way I'm taking the fall for murder, not for you!" He raised his hands. "I surrender."
"Fool," the leader mocked him. "Give in now and you're a dead man. If you go to jail, I guarantee there will be people there who won't take the chance that you'll talk."
"So you think he should die here instead?" Fenton cut in suddenly. "Because I guarantee that's what will happen if anything happens to my son!"
The man with the English accent glanced at Fenton. "I'll take my chances with them," he said, jerking a thumb at Fenton, Con and the sheriff.
"Then you'll lose," said the leader dangerously.
The other man ignored him and walked towards the sheriff, his hands raised.
Suddenly, and without warning, the leader fired at him. Soundlessly, the man dropped to the floor, blood oozing from his head.
Frank screamed in fright and Fenton moved towards them.
"Stay where you are!" the leader shouted, his gun against Frank's head once more.
"Let him go!" Fenton repeated, as Con knelt beside the other man and took his pulse.
"Dead," he said, shaking his head.
The leader emitted a low pitched laugh and Fenton felt terror rise in his throat. This man was losing control; he could see it in his actions and hear it in his voice.
"It's over," said Fenton, as he tried to mask the fear in his voice. "Let him go. Frank's just a child, he has nothing to do with this."
"I told you before, Hardy," snapped the leader, "your family have everything to do with this! They're your weakest link, my way to Tim Hanley…and if I can't have what I want then I'll snap that link!"
The leader increased the pressure against Frank's temple. "Say good-bye to your son, Fenton!"
"NO!" screamed Fenton, as Con and the sheriff began to yell.
Above them, they could hear Sam and Jack crashing through the house and down to the basement.
With all the attention focused on Fenton and the leader, no one had noticed when the inert mass on the floor began to stir. As all hell broke lose, the bloody figure of the fourth and final man rose up behind the leader.
Fenton only saw him seconds before he brought a crashing blow down on the leader's skull that sent him crumbling to the floor, Frank buried beneath him.
"Frank!" yelled Fenton as he jumped forward and tried to pull the unconscious man off his son. He could hear the boy's terrified screams muffled beneath the body.
Sam was by his side in a second, rolling the man off Frank.
"Frank," said Fenton, as he gently lifted the trembling child off the floor. "Are you okay?"
Frank, his face buried in his father's shoulder, nodded.
Fenton tried to calm the violently shaking child. "It's alright, Frankie, it's okay. It's all over, you're safe now," he said softly.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Jack and the sheriff accost the swaying masked man. Sam was handcuffing the unconscious leader.
His eyes strayed to Laura, who remained in a heap on the floor. Fenton's heart leapt painfully into his throat.
Laura! Oh God, please let her be alright…
Con saw his anguished gaze and was by the unconscious woman in a flash. Dropping to his knees, he quickly took her pulse.
He nodded to Fenton. "I've got a pulse. But we need to get her to the hospital."
Fenton swallowed and glanced at the shaking mess in his arms, feeling torn. He badly wanted to comfort his traumatised child, but he also desperately wanted to gather his wife in his arms and see for himself that she really was alive.
It was Sam who took the decision out of his hands.
He knelt beside Fenton and gently clasped Frank's shoulder. "Frank?" he said softly.
Frank looked at him through red, tear filled eyes. "Frank, I think you've just about been the bravest boy I've ever seen today. Would you do me the honour of helping me lead the bad guys out of here?"
Frank wiped his eyes and nodded. "'Kay," he mumbled.
"Good boy," smiled Sam as he stood up and held out his hand. "Lead the way, Frank."
With one last uncertain glance at his father who nodded encouragingly, Frank took Sam's hand and they exited the basement. Sheriff Coombs and Jack followed closely behind them, half carrying the injured kidnapper.
Con remained behind, guarding the unconscious leader.
Fenton moved swiftly to his wife. Reaching down, he grasped her wrist and breathed an audible sigh of relief when he felt a faint pulse. His relief turned to alarm, however, when he touched her cheek and felt how icy cold it was. Quickly he stripped off his jacket and wrapped her in it, before lifting her up in his arms.
He looked at Con who was watching him carefully. "Con, I…"
"Get to the hospital," said Con, before he could finish. "We can take care of things here until the police arrive. Laura and the boys need you more."
Fenton smiled a wordless flash of gratitude at Con and quickly carried Laura up the stairs.
Outside, the sheriff and Jack were tending to the injured kidnapper in the black van belonging to the kidnappers. Fenton could see he was bleeding heavily.
"He needs the hospital, Fenton," said Sam, appearing at his side, Frank in tow. "The sheriff and Jack are going to take him in the van. I'll stay here with Con and watch Mr. Big-Shot downstairs."
Fenton could hear the disgust in Sam's voice.
"Dad," Frank spoke up suddenly, his voice shaky. "We need to find Joe, he's out in the woods somewhere!"
"No, he's not, Frank," said Fenton gently, then raised his voice, "JOE! It's okay, you can come out now!"
Joe did not emerge from behind the tree.
"JOE!" Fenton called again, exchanging worried looks with Sam. Had something else happened?
Sam set off in a jog towards the spot where they had left Joe hiding.
"Frank, stay here," Fenton cautioned, as his older son showed signs of taking off after Sam.
Frank bit his lip worriedly.
Minutes later, Sam emerged from behind the tree, with a small blond figure walking in front of him rubbing his eyes.
"It's okay," he called. "He fell asleep!"
Fell asleep? Fenton frowned. He would have to get that lump on Joe's head checked out at the hospital.
"Joe!" Frank yelled, delight written all over his face.
"Frank!" Joe whooped, and raced the remaining few feet across the grass and flung himself at his older brother.
The two little boys hugged fiercely and Fenton felt a lump form in his throat.
I nearly lost them all, he thought.
It didn't bear thinking about.
"Fenton," Jack called, from where he was standing by the van. "Come on, we'll bring you and your family as far as the other cars. You can take them to the hospital in Tom's car."
"And Tom can have the pleasure of taking Rawston in!" spat the sheriff. "He's been telling me for years that rat's no good! I'll send out the boys to collect that other thug as soon as we reach the hospital."
Fenton nodded and climbed in to the front seat of the van, Laura still in his arms. He was amazed at how light she felt. Sam lifted the boys up beside him, while Jack climbed in behind the wheel. The sheriff was already in the back with the kidnapper.
As the van pulled out, Fenton glanced at his unconscious wife and felt a tremor of fear. Would Laura be alright?