Disclaimer: I do not own the Hardy Boys or any of the book characters.
Thank you! To Wendylouwho10 as usual for reading for flow and content. Typos are mine and I find them all the time!
Rating/Setting: Rating is T. Started as kinda blue spine with a touch of Casefiles but is now completely AU. Frank is 20 and Joe is 19.
Author's Notes: And this story more than any of my others, I think, has past characters/themes show up. I hope you like how past stories are woven into my current ones. :-)
And yes, Cherylann, there is a Frank and Callie scene here too. ;-D
Thanks everyone for reading and reviewing!
Chapter Eleven
Frank was silently ushered in Nick Sacco's house office. Glancing around, Frank saw that he was alone and seated himself in the leather chair directly in front of Sacco's desk. It creaked slightly with his weight. It was just five months ago that he was in this office waiting to set in motion a fake sniper shot for his brother. The irony that Joe might be taking a real sniper shot against his girlfriend or his family was not lost on him. The door behind him made a noise and Frank looked over his shoulder to see Nick Sacco entering and closing the door.
"Frank, how are you?" Nick asked he moved to seat himself behind the imposing dark wood desk.
"As well as can be expected," Frank responded.
Sacco nodded and opened a drawer in his desk removing a manila envelope which he tossed across the desk to Frank.
Frank eyed the envelope and then glanced up to Sacco.
Nick nodded at it and said, "Open it. It's all I have and it's damn little I'm afraid."
Reaching forward with two fingers, Frank dragged it across the desk so that he could pick it up. Pulling documents from the envelope, he found only two things: a picture of a man and a typed page. Frank looked up from them. "Who is he?"
"An Assassin."
Frank gazed at the picture and then looked to the document. His heart sank. It was a note from a Sacco family member who stated that the Assassins had been contacted regarding the hit on Nick Sacco earlier in the year. A hit that was instead given to Joe Hardy. If the Assassins knew of this, this would make two times that the Hardys had interfered in Assassin business and it was no wonder they were targeted. His eyes went back to the picture.
"Do you have a name?"
"Just Hassan."
"Why his picture?" Frank held up the item.
"We know that Hassan works in the New York state area but we are never able to find him."
Frank figured that the Sacco family would be happy to eliminate the man if they could. He may have dealt some blows to the Sacco family himself.
"That's all we have. They are very secretive and while we had some open communication in the past once we determined that they were willing to take a hit on me, we cut all ties."
Frank looked at the picture. It was little to go on but it was something. Maybe ORT would be able to get a facial recognition on him somewhere. He looked up as he put the items back in the envelope. "Thank you," he said as he stood and reached across the desk to shake Sacco's hand.
Sacco, who had stood and reached his own hand out, shook Frank's hand firmly and released it. "This isn't the end of my debt to you and your brother. My life is worth more than that information but I hope it helps in some way."
Frank nodded and left. There wasn't anything more to say. He clutched the envelope tightly. Maybe it would be of some use.
.**********.
Agent Johnson looked at the photo that Frank had handed him. "We'll run this and see if we get any hits." He looked at the picture again. "The beard and the hat it will make it hard to be definitive but every piece of information we have gives us more to go on."
Frank waited as Johnson placed the picture on the table and then clasped his hands in front of him. "You'll let me know?" Frank asked and realized that it was a stupid question. They'd let him know.
"Of course," Johnson replied and then added, "How are you holding up?"
Frank crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm making it, sir."
"Cut back on your time here if you need to."
Frank shook his head. "I can't. It's what's keeping me sane." He didn't add that Vanessa was using the ORT network to get him messages. She didn't want to send them to him any other way except when he was logged in on the system. And she needed to know what was going on. He knew he'd be climbing the walls if he were in her situation.
"Then by means keep working. Just know that we all understand if you need a break."
"Thank you, sir. I'm going to go back to work now unless there's something else?"
"No, that's it. I'll let you know if we get anything from this."
As Frank left the room, he didn't see a lot of forward progress attached to that information, but like Johnson said, it was another piece of the puzzle.
.**********.
Joe blinked rapidly as he leaned back against the wall. The sandwich was gone and he was certain that the drug combination had been changed. He felt… jittery. The photo album sat within his reach now and it called to him strongly. What would it hurt to look at it? I know what they did. There can't be anything new… can there? No. I won't. He closed his eyes and began whispering again, "The Lord is my Shepherd…."
.**********.
The next day…
He hadn't touched the sandwich. His eyes were on the blue vinyl book. Finally, they put him back in the chair even though he didn't eat anything. Joe watched dispassionately as the man who had brought in the box of items days ago came in this time with a syringe. I didn't eat the food; I didn't get the drugs. It was a simple concept but with whatever was in his system, he just had a hard time thinking.
.**********.
Another day has passed…
The sandwich was gone quickly; he didn't want another shot of that particular medicine. Nausea had plagued him for hours after that and being strapped to a chair when you felt like you wanted to throw up was extremely unpleasant, especially when there's nothing in your stomach to throw up. The dry heaves while strapped in the chair had been rather painful and he'd eat their drug-laced food to keep from that again.
His mind wandered. It's the drugs. It's not them. Remember this is what they want. Why? To separate me emotionally from Frank and Vanessa? Why? He paused; his thoughts went back to what little he knew about VanStall. Letting out a ragged sob, he finally realized what they were doing. They want me to kill Vanessa and maybe myself. He balled his fists up and closed his eyes tightly. I have to let them think I believe it. I have to but I can't. I can't believe. I won't hurt Vanessa. I'd rather die…. But I'd rather live and to do that….
Now his eyes were on the photo album again. Decision made, he reached for it and picked it up. Opening it, he was struck with longing and homesickness as he saw Frank and Vanessa. But then the feeling changed as he noticed the entwined fingers. Flip. Two pictures now, one on each side. Frank's arm was around Vanessa in one and she was smiling. The other one showed the pair gazing lovingly into each other's eyes. Joe studied the picture. The clothing is definitely Vanessa's.That's the sweater I bought for her at Christmas.The watch on Frank's arm is his.But they could be recreated. Photo-shopped, he thought. The next picture stopped him cold. It was a picture of Frank standing behind Vanessa with his arms wrapped around her. His eyes were drawn to Frank's arm, just below his t-shirt sleeve. Frank had a distinctive birthmark on his right arm in that spot… and it was there in the picture. Joe pulled it from the plastic sleeve and held it close to his face. It was there. It could be photo-shopped. They could easily do it. He looked at the picture again. Everything looked perfect. It didn't look altered. But that's what makes it photo-shopped, he told himself. Carefully, he put it to the side and picked up the album again. The pictures were more of the same. He found another with the birthmark. He tossed the album away from him angrily and grabbed his head. His hands didn't find any hair to grasp, only the rough uneven stubble.
He pressed his palms tightly against his eyes as he rocked back and forth. No. They didn't lie. It's part of the Assassins' plan. I can't believe. Heaven help me, it was Frank's birthmark. No. I won't believe it. Not real. Faked. Photo-shopped. Lies. But who is lying? Joe threw himself back against the wall hitting his head hard. He felt light-headed. I won't hurt Vanessa. I'd rather die. He threw his head back again and again.
In seconds, men rushed into the room and dragged him to the chair.
"No! No!" he shouted as he pulled against them but they were too many and too strong and soon he was back in the chair. He was exhausted when they left him. Opening his eyes slowly, he looked in front of him. The picture that had been in the album was now on the floor in front of him. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the pain in his head.
.**********.
Frank sat on the back deck with Chet and gazed into the backyard. "I'm holding up," he finally said answering Chet's question as to how he was.
"You know if there's anything I—"
Frank turned a genuine smile on his friend. "I know, Chet. You don't have to say it." He shrugged as the smile faded. "Unfortunately there's not very much that I can even do now and that's part of what is so frustrating."
"I won't say that I know what you're going through… but you know I can empathize with you," Chet said as he leaned forward in the chair causing it to creak.
Frank looked away. "Yeah. You've been through it twice. I'm ahead of you in the count though." Finally, after a few moments of silence, Frank looked back at Chet. "Tell Iola thank you for going out with Callie. I'm afraid that I haven't been the best of company and she needs her friends too."
"You know she's your friend too," Chet said carefully.
Frank couldn't stop the scowl from appearing on his face but he removed it quickly. "Listen, Chet, I just can't handle being around her right now."
"You know she—"
"I know—"
"Well, why don't you act like it?" Chet said with some exasperation. "She hasn't done anything wrong and you haven't responded to any of her calls, texts, or emails. She's afraid to come by the house because of how you might react and she doesn't want to upset you any further."
Frank's scowl returned. "How considerate," he said scornfully and then he noticed the shocked look on Chet's face and realized how he was acting. Both hands went to his face where he rubbed his skin vigorously before dropping them to his lap. "Man, I'm sorry. That was uncalled for."
"No. This isn't the time or place for me to be bringing this up. This is a discussion for AFTER Joe is home and safe."Chet leaned back. "I'm supposed to be here offering support and instead…" his voice drifted off. "I'm here if you need me and I'll pass along your thanks to Iola."
Frank looked contrite. "I really am grateful. I wasn't making that up. She's one of Callie's closest friends and I'm glad she has her to lean on."
"Just know I'm here for you too," Chet said as he stood. "I'll go now."
Frank didn't stand but looked up. "Would you stay a little longer? I think I'd like to talk about your plans for the Halloween party this year."
Chet paused and then smiled. "I was thinking another costume party would be good. I know they're Joe's favorite." He sat back down.
"Yeah, they are. I think it would be great." Frank smiled as his friend began discussing the event, knowing that Chet really hadn't thought that much about the holiday that was still months away. But he was talking about it for him; to give him a distraction. And it was working but he also planned to hold Chet to all his party plans when Joe returned. He had a feeling that Joe would need the holiday distraction himself.
.**********.
Frank closed the door behind Chet and smiled. He was really a good friend. Frank pulled out his phone and looked at the messages and emails. His eyes scanned the text items- nothing new. He pulled up his email as he headed for his father's office. Dark brown eyes scanned the inbox and he stopped in the middle of the living room and opened a message. It was from Sandy Rand. He smiled slightly as he read it. Rachel had finished her community service the previous year and was now finishing up her probation as she started her senior year of high school in September. Rachel was enrolled in elective classes that would help her with a nursing degree. Sandy once again thanked him for everything that the Hardys had done to help her family.
Frank's smile faded as he pressed the button that returned his screen to black. He pivoted and sat on the couch and rested his arms on his thighs. Staring at the carpet in front of him he went back over everything Joe had been through in the last three years and he wondered if this would be the time they didn't find Joe in time. Realizing he was starting to dwell on negative things, he lifted the phone up and dialed a number.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Callie. Do you have time to come over?" Even to him, his voice sounded down.
On Callie's end there was no hesitation. "I'm on my way." The sounds of her closing a door came through the phone. "Do you want to talk while I drive over?"
"No," he said as he smiled slightly to himself. "I'll be okay. I'll be waiting on the porch for you."
"Okay. See you in fifteen. And, Frank?"
"Yeah?" He asked as he moved to the front door.
"I love you."
A smile was on his face as he opened the door. "Love you too. See you soon."
"Bye."
He pressed the disconnect button and smiled as he sat down. She's just what I need. My rock. His thoughts went back to Joe and his reasoning for wanting to go ahead and marry Vanessa. Maybe his brother was right, but now was not the time for those thoughts but maybe after his brother was home….