Boosting - Chapter 30

As soon as their container prison door had been slammed shut, Fenton climbed back to his feet. "Are you okay, honey?" he asked Bobbie, concerned he'd hurt her.

"No – I thought I was going home!" she said sardonically and allowed him to pull her upright again. "I'm never going to get out of here, am I?"

"Yes you will." Fenton promised and turned around trying to get his bearings. "I can't see a damn thing!"

"Welcome to my world. I'm at the stage where I don't even know if my eyes are open or closed." She walked away, footsteps receding until the camp bed squeaked as she sat.

"I've got my cell, so it's just a case of calling for help." Fenton lifted his phone to look at the screen. "Darn! No signal, must be because we're in a metal box." He put his hand out and turned to move towards where he thought the door was, but came into contact with a wall. So he shuffled sideways until he reached a corner. He remembered doing something similar at Carson Drew's house…that didn't turn out so well either. Now at the door, he pushed his phone closer and tried again, waving it about. "Still nothing." He sighed, put his cell away and started feeling and sliding his fingers down the central join.

"You're wasting your time," Bobbie said, eventually. "If you're trying to open the door you won't be able to. I've explored this box from top to bottom and there's no way out except through that door. The only person who opens it is Pete and he only comes twice a day – in the morning to let me out for a shower and bathroom visit, and then later to bring food and let me use the bathroom again. And he always has other men with him as escorts.

Fenton banged on the door and shouted, "Hey, open up!"

"Tried that too. Screamed myself hoarse and scraped my fists raw the first two days. No one hears...or no one cares."

"Dammit!" Fenton began making his way towards Bobbie's voice, intending to join her on the camp bed. There was clearly no point trying to break out if she hadn't managed it. He nearly jumped out of his skin when her fingers suddenly touched his chest after he'd taken only a few steps.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." Bobbie tentatively took his hands to lead him. "I'm used to the dimensions of this place, but it's so disorientating at first. Mind you don't trip, camp-bed's right in front of you."

Fenton felt the bed against his shins and was turned around. He sat and Bobbie did the same, her shoulder barely reaching his chest and drew her knees up under her chin. She was putting a brave face on things, but Fenton could sense she was badly frightened so he cautiously put an arm about her shoulders and she leaned against him. "How did you end up here, Bobbie?"

"Did my parents send you after me?"

"Yes. We were hired to come and look for you and the missing cars."

"How are ma and pa?" Bobbie asked. She was crying, quietly, so as to hide her emotions.

Fenton pretended not to have noticed. "Worried and fearing the worst. But I told them I'd find you and bring you home, and I will."

She grew quiet for a long time, lost in her own thoughts and Fenton didn't push further. Eventually she asked, "How did you find me, Mr…Fenton?"

Fenton swallowed and grimaced. "In your bedroom, I found your notebook under the floorboard—" he gave her shoulder a squeeze.

Bobbie made a noise, an embarrassed groan.

"—Sorry Bobbie. We needed to find you, it was the only way."

She asked, evenly. "Did you read it?"

"Uh…yes. That was the whole point of looking for it." Fenton was trying not to laugh. He didn't have to see to know her hands were over her crimson face.

"Oh no! You saw what I wrote about Joe, didn't you?" she asked, muffled.

"Maybe—"

"Oh no!"

Fenton patted her shoulder. "—But the stuff you wrote about Oscar Smuff? Inspired!"

Bobbie giggled.

"Don't worry, I haven't told anyone what was in the book, apart from the fact you'd gone to see Nancy."

"I hadn't actually only come to see Nancy Drew. I'd spent quite a while plotting out a map of where all the cars had been stolen to see if there was a pattern. When it indicated River Heights as being the eye of the storm, I decided to come and investigate. I thought I'd drop in on Nancy and introduce myself at the same time. I've always wanted to meet her. She's inspiring."

"It was lucky you did because Hannah was able to give just enough information to enable me to follow you and I found the map in your hotel room."

"Did you? Is that what bought you here?"

"It was," Fenton confirmed. "And Bobbie, I must say that the map was a brilliant piece of logical detective work. You should be proud of yourself."

Bobbie sat silently for a while again. "I don't think I'm going to be an investigator after all, I'm not cut out for it."

"Nonsense."

"No it's not, I've learned my lesson."

"Don't give up on it, speak to Nancy first. I'll introduce you once we're out of here."

"You know Nancy Drew well enough as to introduce me?"

"Bobbie, Nancy is dating Frank!"

"Is she? Since when?"

"A few weeks."

"Wow. I knew they'd worked together, but I never…makes sense I suppose." Bobbie's tucked her legs under herself into a more relaxed position. "When I worked out where I thought their base of operations was, I came out here on surveillance. Came for two days straight before I saw anything unusual. I was driving around and saw a truck outside one of the buildings. On the back was an old car, so I started taking photos. But I was spotted and they ambushed me. They locked me up in here and this is where I've been all this time."

"Have they hurt you, Bobbie?"

"No. But one of them – his name is Andy – he's bent on doing away with me and doesn't care if I'm within hearing distance when he says it. He's cruel. Pete won't let him though. He's the reason I'm here, but he's also the reason I'm still alive."

Fenton didn't like what he'd been told, though he didn't verbalise his fears. If the gang were desperate before, enough to hold a young girl hostage for so long, they would be even more so now. He feared this could push them into a territory they wouldn't ordinarily venture into. "Well, they'll have to come through me to get to you, sweetheart. I know things seem pretty dire right now, but Joe's on his way, so we're not totally helpless."

She sat upright. "Really? Joe Hardy's coming here?"

"Yep."

"Can I just set one thing straight? The thing with Joe in my notes? That was so two years ago. Got myself a real boyfriend. It was just a little crush."

Fenton laughed. "You don't have to explain, I know how these things work. Joe had more than his fair share of crushes, believe me, and not all healthy or realistic – probably more than his fair share. Now Frank? Not so much…too preoccupied with his intellect to be concerned with such inconveniences as the usual teenage angst – me and Laura are still waiting for him to go through that phase." He laughed at his own musings and Bobbie joined in—

—And then the door opened and a slither of light burst between the halves of the opening, the sound of laughter abruptly ceasing. Neither of them had noticed the sound of the padlock being opened.

Fenton tensed, squinting against the sudden shaft of late afternoon sunlight, dimmer now than when he'd first become imprisoned, turning dusky. Bobbie made a tremulous noise and crushed herself into him. If she could have done so, Fenton was sure she'd have climbed right inside him to hide.

"It's too soon…it's too soon!" she frantically whispered up into his ear.

Fenton supposed she meant it was too early for Pete to return, that it was unexpected, not part of the routine. He quickly stood up and pulled his charge up with him, tucking her firmly behind – wishing he'd swallowed his pride all those days ago and had brought along the weapon he was issued.

Once the double doors were fully open, Fenton was looking at five men silhouetted there. With the light behind them he was unable to see them in any clarity, one dimensional cardboard cut-outs. One stepped forward into the container and his face softened into focus. Fenton assumed from his earlier overheard snooping and from what Bobbie had told him, that this was Pete.

Pete didn't venture closer, just locked onto Fenton visually. "Who are you?"

Fenton shrugged. "A passer-by who heard this girl calling for help."

Pete's face twitched. "Liar. A passer-by wouldn't be able to crack a padlock open like you did without a key. Who are you really?"

"More to the point…who are you?" Fenton countered, evenly.

"—Uh, I've had enough of this!" One of the others suddenly piped up and surged forward with the other three and came straight at Fenton and Bobbie.

"Hey-hey-HEY! Keep away!" Fenton shouted, backing off and holding Bobbie even tighter so she also moved, still shielded by his body.

"Andy!" Pete said, warningly.

"What's the matter with you?" Andy snapped at Pete as he passed. "Stop pussy footing around!"

Then the men did exactly what Fenton had promised Bobbie they'd have to do – they went through him to get to her. Her grip tightened around Fenton's middle as he was manhandled by the men, and she was pulled along with him for a distance before one of the men gripped her tightly by the biceps and hauled her in the opposite direction. Her tenuous hold was torn clear and they were separated.

"Don't you hurt her…damn you!" Fenton shouted and reached out, but she was gone and he was forced up against the wall, his arms pinned by the wrists and elbows.

"Shut up," Andy muttered and started going through Fenton's pockets as he glared fiercely down his nose and jerked to try and get at him. Eventually Andy extracted Fenton's wallet, lock picking tools, phone and FBI badge. "Thought so…see?" Andy turned to Pete and waved the badge. "FBI scum, Fenton Hardy. I knew this was goin' to happen…didn't I warn you? You kept the girl here alive for too long, we should have gotten rid of her a long time ago." He threw the cell to the floor and stomped on it.

Pete pointed. "I've told you, we're not goin' down that road. Use your head; boosting cars is one thing, but murder? No way!"

Fenton looked at Bobbie. Her eyes were flitting about, terrified and he wished he could say something that would make her feel better, but he had nothing. All he had was the vague hope that Joe would make it in time to intervene. He looked at Pete who was still arguing with Andy. This was a man trying hard to pull back the control; he looked to be on the edge of lurching into a cloud of panic, he was losing it…and the worst part? He knew it too.

"If you won't do it, I'll do it for you!" Andy shouted.

"NO! We stick to my plan – it's a good plan. We tie 'em up in the trunk and I'll drive 'em to where we're goin'. We can decide what to do afterwards."

"We've had enough of your soft 'plans', Pete. We're gonna finish them off and leave the bodies in one of the empty containers. No one will find them for months – years even, and by then, we'll be long gone." Andy moved towards Bobbie, his hands reaching for her throat and she opened wide to scream and kicked back at the men holding her. A hand was forcefully laid across her face instantly silencing her and she was lifted and clasp even tighter, arms trapped. Her head was drawn back, exposing her neck.

Fenton bellowed for her to be left alone, but had started to be jostled as the men restraining him also made a move, an arm encircling his neck. Fenton thrust forward to unbalance and prevent the arm from getting a solid hold, but his momentum was used to force him down onto his knees and into a deadly headlock, so tight his carotid artery was being compressed, cutting off his circulation – his vision instantly started to grain out and pressure built in his head. Fenton had to fight, but his arms were pinned tight he couldn't breathe.

Sudden silence and a stillness – which was only broken upon Fenton hearing Pete say, "Back off, Andy!" The tone turned slightly clearer as Pete turned his face towards Fenton. "Let him take a breath!"

The arm adjusted around Fenton's neck and the stress was off which enabled him to take a painfully quick and deep exhalation of air. The prickly sensation began to clear and he looked up, fearful of what he was going to see…to witness what had become of little Bobbie Shandley…what he'd failed to prevent. But what he actually found was Pete standing with his arm out and a gun in his fist and Andy having paused, his fingers resting around Bobbie's throat. Andy was staring at the gun, his face going through a multitude of expressions, his fingers convulsing and wanting to tighten up.

"We're doing this my way. Agreed?" Pete snapped.

"You're a fool – they arrested your wife! Don't you want revenge for that?"

"Not against a girl I don't, so move back!" Although apparently in control again, Pete was betraying his cool exterior with a visibly shaking arm. "I said we're following my plan…are-we-in-agreement?" he asked again slowly and deliberately and pulled his shoulders back.

Andy's mouth curled. "Yeah, we're in agreement," he finally complied through gritted teeth. He sighed loudly and took that step away.

Bobbie made a tremulous sound from behind the hand that was still across her face and went limp in her attackers arms, eyes glistening as relieved tears erupted over the top.

Fenton dropped his chin, light-headed, but borne more from relief than from the strangulation he'd just endured.

"Tie 'em up, we're leaving." Pete backed up to the doorway and put the gun back in his jacket pocket. "Just don't forget I've got the gun, so I'm the boss."

Fenton's wrists were pulled together and an itchy twine encircled quickly and pulled tight before the same was done to his ankles. Then he was shoved flat out. Bobbie appeared next to him a few seconds later, trussed up in exactly the same way. "Hang on in there, Honey."

"I'm trying." Her voice was barely a whisper, her breathing uneven.

"Bring them out here," Pete said, stepping outside and pointing to the ground at the back of one of the doors where it was opened flat against the next box.

Fenton was pulled half aloft by the armpits, dragged and dropped onto the ground with his back to the door. Bobbie was carried out seconds later, and placed down next to him. She immediately drew her legs up and pushed her face into her knees, locking Fenton out. He shuffled himself right up next to her to ensure some sort of comforting contact.

Two more men entered the picture, one of them was One-arm. "What's happening?" he asked Andy, circumventing Pete as the leader.

"Pete's insisting that we gotta take them with us."

"You're kidding?" One-arm now addressed Pete. "We can't take them!"

"—I'm saying the same to you as I said to Andy…no one is killin' either of them. They're comin' with me and I'll decide what to do with 'em later."

"But that's crazy, they're dead weight," Andy said from the other side of Pete causing him to spin to face him.

"I'm with Andy on this one. I vote we finish this now!" said another of the men.

Pete's control was slipping again, the power running like water through his fingers. Spinning like a top from one face to the other, he was out numbered and out resolved by his mutinous crew who were now all throwing views and counter suggestions at him:

"I told you, Pete, you're losing it."

"Yeah, that's right!"

"I'm with Andy—"

"I don't want to, but whatever's necessary—"

"Whatever the majority go with—"

"Yeah, we'll vote on it—"

"Let's vote—"

Fenton Hardy wasn't an easily spooked man, but even he was starting to feel nervous. Pete was on the verge of giving in to his motley squad's demands – he was only one man, and a nervy one at that. All his crew had to do was to overpower him and take the gun. It would be only a matter of time before they realised and did just that. This was getting decidedly dodgy for Fenton and his charge.

And then something happened that altered the whole dynamics, Joe Hardy strode out into the middle of the little open square with his arms held out wide, palms open and friendly. "What's up? You all having a party and forgot to invite the guest of honour? I'm hurt, buddies!"