A/n: PSA of the day: Better to crack your bicycle helmet than your head. Also, Road rash is quite nasty looking. Hubby got hit by a car yesterday. Luckily the only casualty is the helmet as the car was doing under 15 and slowing to take a turn. Still freaked me right the you know what out.
Chapter Eight
Under cover of night, Mario Junior and his henchmen made their way to the back side of the brick building that housed the Hardy and Sons Detective Agency. Junior knew he'd have the entire weekend to implement his plan, as the news of Joe's wedding had been published in the weekly paper as a fairly decent sized article by a former classmate of the boys, Liz Webling. It caused minor consternation as the original plan had been to blow up both together, but ultimately he opted to go forward anyway. He'd figured he could just assassinate Joe at the funeral along with Fenton.
The siblings he had hired to do the job were twins. The only way he could tell them apart was by the length of their hair. The brother wore his in a greasy ponytail while the sister had hers cropped short in a pageboy. Both were nearly silent, speaking only in short sentences and rarely at that. As many twins seemed to do from an outsider's point of view, they appeared to be communicating with each other silently. They carried identical gym bags, each loaded with the equipment and supplies needed to install an incendiary device. Without waiting for instruction they got right to work, trusting that Junior had taken care of any alarms or other security issues. They worked methodically and carefully, being extremely precise in everything they did. It took several hours and it was well into the wee hours of the morning when they finished, but Junior chuckled evilly at the finished product.
"They won't know what hit them!" he chortled as he literally rubbed his hands together like a bad parody of Snidely Wiplash. The twins were less jovial but just as self satisfied. This was their tribute to their father, dead in the prison Fenton Hardy had sent him to. He paid them in cash as well as tickets for separate ways out of town. The sister was taking the train into NYC, where she was catching a flight to Rio. Her brother had a bus ticket to Philadelphia, from where he too was flying to Brazil.
Mario Junior went home and formally apologized to his father and publicly once again pledged his loyalty and obedience, all the while smirking inside. The truly delicious part was the bomb was untraceable once it went off. To any Arson Investigator, it would appear as if the fuse box shorted out, causing a fire that spread to the gas line. There would be no evidence left behind for the Police to find and launch a manhunt. It would all be chalked up to a tragic accident. He decided to twist the knife a little more and anonymously arranged for large funeral wreathes in the name of all three Hardy men to be delivered to whatever funeral home would be used.
Aldo Mazzola was equally busy, setting up two separate ambush spots along the road in anticipation of the brothers' return the next day. Each spot was a self contained zone, with their own weapon, getaway vehicle and other supplies located conveniently nearby where they would be accessible but unnoticed. Not knowing exactly when he could expect the car to pass by, and only knowing the time of the wedding, listed oh so helpfully in Mz. Webling's article, he set up an overnight camp at the first ambush spot. He'd knew he'd get no sleep, but was well prepared with hot coffee in a large thermos at the first location and energy drinks in the second, kept cold by freezing first then being stored in a small cooler. A couple of sandwiches and some granola bars in each location rounded out his preparations. He settled in for a long night, huddled under a sleeping bag draped over his shoulders and a small propane lantern illuminating the book he brought along to pass the time until the sun rose the next morning.
A/n: Going forward I have decided to disallow guest reviews. If you cannot be bothered to create a profile and log in and then leave unhelpful critiques, I don't need the aggravation. If you are going to leave comments at least have the courtesy to allow rebuttal. To be fair, I will also disallow 'nice' anonymous reviews as well. I realize this may make my stories seem as if they are not being read, but since I ultimately do this for my own enjoyment I really don't care if feathers get ruffled. Yes its a pain to log in every ten days and yes the security protocols are a bit much. but if others can do it, so can you.