Hey, I told you I'd get another chapter out tonight! This one is nice and short, some angst, fun to write you know.

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All was silent for the moment. "What's the job?"

"Kill the Hardy Boys."


Frank groaned out loud, pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Are you kidding me?" He laughed out loud, surprising the guards and his own father. "Are you seriously-you know, I'm not, I called it. I wish Joe was hearing this, I think he would die laughing. Oh well, then you wouldn't need to kill us right?"

Frank was pissed off. He stomped towards the middle of the road, and when Fenton tried to call out his name and stop him, he didn't even listen. Anger bubbled up inside of him, threatening to spill over. It was the same thing, the same threat over and over and over again. It never stopped.

"I mean, isn't it always kidnap the Hardys, get information out of the Hardys, kill the Hardy's." He sneered at the last part, aiming it directly at the guards.

Frank understood certain dangers came with being the son of a detective, and with being detectives themselves. But it didn't mean that it had to be hard. Always attack the Hardy Boys, and it never ended. He knew the job never ended, they would always be hunted by more criminals by putting them away for good.

"I'm so sick of it. And it's not my fault, it's not my father's fault, it's not any of our faults. It's all your fault, you and every other criminal that has ever targeted us." By this point, Frank had captured his audience's attention and had walked right up to the two bodyguards.

"So it's over. You're finished, drop your guns and put your hand behind your head." Frank commanded, right up in the guard's faces.

The two bodyguards looked at each other and down back at Frank, stretching to their identical six and a half foot height. Then they laughed, loud and gruff. Frank growled, and the guards just laughed even harder.

"What's stopping us from shooting you right here and now? You're not even armed," The second guard asked, the first time he had talked.

Then Frank smiled, immediately reaching into his back waistband and pulling out the gun Fenton had. His father had handed it off to him as soon as he started ranting. Frank held it out with two hands, feet shoulder-width apart, aimed directly at the chest of the first guard. As soon as Frank drew his, the two bodyguards drew theirs, aiming it at Frank.

"Two against one? Doesn't seem very fair," the guard said, giving Frank a dirty smile.

"Trust me, I drop you and your partner her before you even have the chance to blink," Frank whispered fiercely. "No one touches my family."

The staredown was intense, and all was fine until two gunshots rang out from the street.