Disclaimer: I do not own the Hardy Boys or any of the book characters.

Thank you: Wendylouwho10 who read over the story for me and made content suggestions, helped with the flow, and provided some spelling/grammar corrections. Typos are mine and I discover them all the time. :-)

Rating/Setting: Rating is T. Setting is blue spine-ish and AU. Timeline: Taken; Recovery; Retribution; Wild Pitch; and now this story. While you don't NEED to read the previous stories, things will be referenced and perhaps even some from my younger Hardys stories.

Author's Note: Well, that last chapter proved to be very popular. Hope the trends continues!


Chapter Sixteen

The next morning, Joe looked in the mirror at the shiner he had along with the bruise along his jaw line. He shook his head. "I hope that Fernand looks as bad as I do."

"Doesn't matter. You won," Vanessa replied as she munched on some toast.

They had decided to eat breakfast in so that Joe could sleep as long he wanted. Having fought the previous night, he wouldn't be expected to go in for training today. They'd rest up and go down to the cafeteria for lunch and see what gossip they could gather from those that would be eating there.

"Yeah, I won, but it sure doesn't feel like it," Joe said as he came to sit at the table with her. He had grabbed some OJ and a pop tart to eat. "Bobby told me that I might get paired with Frank as early as next week's Friday night event."

Vanessa laughed, "Well, Bobby hasn't been wrong about much yet."

Joe smiled back as he took a bite out of the chocolate frosted chocolate pop tart. "I should be well enough to put on a good show with Frank then."

Nodding, Vanessa said, "There's not much more prep work for us to do. It's just a matter of Frank being fast enough to open the lock on the office door and you getting the locks on the server door."

Joe shrugged and winced as he responded, "We're both good at that. I do need to get a small mirror to be able to use to check the hall out before I exit though."

"I'll get one when I go out next," Vanessa replied.

"So ORT hasn't said anything yet about how we're getting out?"

"Not in that last message. I guess they figure we've got to get the files before they give us details about how we're leaving."

"Makes sense, but I'd still like to know."

"Well, hopefully, we'll get to know soon," Vanessa said and then popped the last bite of toast in her mouth.

.**********.

That afternoon Vanessa walked into the Java Hut by herself. Joe's colorful collection of bruises would have drawn too much attention at the little coffee shop so he was resting at the apartment while she went to gather information from ORT. Once she had her small hazelnut coffee, she took her corner seat and signed into the secure server. Pulling up her email program, she typed in the information that she had from the previous evening as well as the updated plan.

She surfed around the web for a bit as she waited for a response. It was about twenty minutes later that Vanessa got a reply. Things looked good for the plan they had in place but then she had to school her features as she read ORT's plan for their extraction. Frank would stay for however long ORT let the organization run. Not knowing what they would get from the server they couldn't predict with certainty how long the mission would go. It could be up to a month before they would shut down the operation. At that time, Frank would be processed in the same way as the other fighters. But in an effort to reduce her and Joe's time in the mission, ORT would be sending a time-released pill for Joe to take during the fight that should occur with Frank. The message said she'd get more information on the drug and what to do when the fight was scheduled. But basically, it would simulate a condition called hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. The reasoning was that while it was not a common occurrence for teenagers to have a heart attack, it would not be completely unreasonable that Joe could have such a heart condition. The stress that fighting in a match would place on a heart could trigger a heart attack in someone with such a condition. With the limited medical staffing and the need to go under the radar, ORT believed that Zendel's would let Joe go if he indicated that he had a heart condition and might even force him to leave. Most likely the group would not want to risk one of the fighters dying in a match. It would be bad for business and potentially difficult to cover up.

After reading everything, she typed back a couple of questions that she already had. What about Joe's anti-depressant medication? Would anything specific need to be done after the episode for Joe to be all right? How was this supposed to work if he's fighting Frank? She already knew that Joe would be okay with it providing that ORT's response to her questions didn't send up any red flags. However, Frank Hardy was a different story. From her conversations with Joe and what she had read in the FBI reports, Frank wasn't going to like his baby brother being in that situation. The fact that Frank would have to stand there and watch it while doing little to help would be taxing to say the least. Exiting the programs and turning off the tablet, she gathered her things and left. She was not looking forward to relaying the information to the brothers.

.**********.

Joe looked at Vanessa with a frown. "They want me to fake a heart attack as a way to get out of the situation."

Vanessa sighed. "Not a heart attack, but hypertrophic cardiomyopathy . The symptoms are similar and it's the condition that young athletes tend to have that die from sudden cardiac failure. And they're doing this because they want to limit the amount of time that we are here and that would be the fastest way to get us out without breaking cover. If we wait until they bust the group then we'd probably miss school starting."

The wrinkles on Joe's forehead smoothed out. "I guess it makes sense. If they plan to let the organization go for up to a month before shutting them down, I could have to fight four or more times depending on how badly I'm hurt." Frowning again, he added, "But that leaves Frank here without anyone for back-up."

"I doubt we'd leave right away. After all, you'd be recovering from heart problems. They can't just shove us out the door. I'd say we could easily be here a week." She gave him a grim smile. "But it wouldn't be pleasant. You'd have to play the role of invalid."

Joe rolled his eyes. "I've never been good at that even when I have been hurt." He turned his gaze back to her. "Can you think of a better way?"

"Other than just waiting it out with Frank and the two of you having to fight probably two more times? No. There's not a good reason for us to leave without good cause. The money's good and you're good at fighting. It would be incredibly suspicious for two teens without any money or good prospects to give this up."

Joe nodded. "That's what I was thinking too." He pulled out one of the kitchen chairs and turned it around and straddled it. "I could stick it out. I can fight a couple more times."

"Yeah, I know you could. But if there's no health risk to this, then why wouldn't we take it?"

"What if they do take me to a real doctor?" Joe asked.

"ORT says there's no high level doctor in this area of the operation. You're to tell them when they question you that you have the condition and they're going to supply me with fake beta blocker heart meds for you. They'll be out of date which will play into the fact you didn't think it was a big deal. So when the fight ends, you're going to be visibly beat up. As long as you appear all right and know what the problem is, Carstairs will wait for medical treatment. It's not like they can take you to the ER without raising more questions than they want to answer."

"I guess you're right," Joe responded and then smiled mischievously.

"What?" Vanessa asked, seeing the gleam in his eye.

"I'm just glad you get to explain all this to Frank."

Vanessa groaned as she slumped in her chair. "Don't remind me. I think I'd better set that meeting up for somewhere away from here. It won't be good if he explodes in the laundry room."

Joe laughed. "Frank explode? Probably not. But it's better to be safe."

"Yeah. I think the toilet paper aisle of the Meijer's might be a good place."

Joe just laughed some more as he truly was glad that he didn't have to explain this to his brother.

.**********.

Thursday afternoon and Vanessa stood in the Meijer's looking at the selection of toilet paper that had the double roll feature. Behind her, she could hear Frank muttering and verbalizing what he didn't like about the plan. Reaching out, she got a nine roll pack. As she put the package in her cart, she turned and asked, "Got a better plan? Jake and I couldn't come up with one."

"Just give me a little time. I'm sure I can come up with one."

"Great," Vanessa said. "In the meantime, Jake and I will do some more checking on the movements of the fighters and the crowd during the fights tomorrow night."

"Yeah, about that…" Frank started and then stopped.

Vanessa turned from her cart to face Frank. "What is it?"

Frank drew a breath before he spoke. "I overheard Carstairs indicating that he wanted to hype up the potential match between Petrov and Winder."

"So? Makes sense. More betting. More money. The animosity that's already out there between the two of you should be easy to play up."

"That's just it. It's big at the apartment building, but the people attending the match don't know it. They also haven't seen Petrov fight anyone but Fernand. And while that was a really good fight and has people talking, they aren't going to put out big money unless they think Petrov can win."

"And the one fight isn't going to be enough?"

Frank shook his head.

"Then they're going to postpone the fight between you two so that Jake can get in another fight?"

"I hope that's what they intend," Frank responded.

"But it's not what you expect?" Vanessa probed.

"It's possible that Jake will have to fight again Saturday night."

Vanessa drew in a sharp breath. "But he's not recovered-"

"And if he can beat another fighter while he's in that condition in a fight right before mine-"

"It'll make a big impact on the crowd," Vanessa finished for him.

"Exactly."

Vanessa turned back to her cart. "I need to get back."

"I could be wrong," Frank said as she moved away.

"But you're probably not," she whispered to herself as she headed toward the checkout line.

.**********.

Six o'clock Friday evening finally arrived. Joe and Vanessa made their way to the board to check out the posting for the Saturday night fights. Word had gotten out to everyone that the management was looking to propel Jake Petrov into a similar standing as David Winder. David's group of friends had taken on a wounded air and indicated that while Jake was good, he wasn't in the same class as Winder. For his part, Joe had stayed pretty quiet and just glared at people. Bobby had taken of the role of self-proclaimed spokesman for Petrov and often exchanged verbal volleys with Winder's group.

Even though he pretty much knew that he would be on the card for Saturday night, Joe was still nervous as they walked down the corridor. Like last time, a small group was gathered around the board with several conversations going on. Joe could see Frank's dark brown hair amidst the group. Someone turned and caught sight of him and they quickly spread the word he was approaching. Soon most of the group was looking his way – Frank included. Joe glanced at the paper on the wall. He'd be fighting Marcus again. He'd fought him in a demo for Carstairs just a few days prior. Obviously, Carstairs was looking for a repeat performance.

Frank crossed his arms over his chest and said, "Don't know why they're in such a hurry to prove you deserve a shot against me."

Joe pulled Vanessa closer to his side and tilted his chin up a little more. "I fight who and when they tell me. If they think that a new guy has the chance to knock you down a couple of notches, who am I to argue?" Joe could hear the interested whispers around him.

Frank's eyes strayed to the beautiful blonde at his brother's side. "Well, I'm thinking you're just upset that your girlfriend spends a lot of time in the laundry-" Frank didn't have a chance to finish his insult as his brother rushed forward to grab his shirt and pin him to the wall.

"Don't. Ever. Speak about my girlfriend," Joe said with menace.

Hating to do it, but knowing it was part of their act, Frank replied, "I wasn't talking about speaking with her, I was going to show her-" Frank's voice was cut off as Joe's forearm pressed to his throat for a moment. Frank coughed and bent over as Bobby and another teen pulled Joe off of him.

Still pulling at the two men restraining him, Joe yelled, "I'll be the one to show you Winder!" Snatching his arm from Bobby, Joe grabbed Vanessa's hand and strode briskly down the hall. After pulling her into the elevator behind him, he dropped her hand and leaned back against the wall.

He could feel Vanessa's concern without her having to say anything. Looking up, he smiled and said, "I'm okay. It just felt weird going through that with my brother."

Vanessa looked at him with interest. "You and your brother never fight?"

Joe laughed remembering some of the loud arguments that he had Frank had gotten into over the years. "Oh, no. We definitely fight. Can't help but get into some arguments when you have a temper like mine."

"I don't think you have a temper," Vanessa interjected.

"Well, I'm not as bad as I used to be. Sometimes I act a little rashly but I think I've changed over the last year. I think there were only two times that Frank and I actually came to blows though." He shook his head as his eyes watched the numbers on the elevator panel. The bell dinged and the doors opened. He knew that Vanessa was still curious. Once they were in the apartment he said, "We had two fights while I was in middle school. It was just a couple of punches- a cut lip, black eye, that kind of thing. Nothing more."

Vanessa laughed. "Well, I'm glad to hear it because after seeing you fight and then knowing that your brother is supposed to be better-"

"Not 'supposed,' he is better."

"Well, in any case, I'm sure that a lot worse could happen than a black eye."

Joe smiled back. She was right. Even back at the end of middle school they could have done some damage to each other. But even through the anger that fueled the fights, there was never any intention to really hurt the other. When the fights were over, they had both felt ashamed about their behavior. Joe had been fourteen the last time that he had truly fought with his brother outside of a friendly sparring match. If things went the way they hoped, that would change the following week.