Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

Joe Hardy sighed with relief as the helicopter lifted off the island. He quickly pulled on the headphones to protect his ears from the loud noise of the rotor blades.

The rhythm of the helicopter blade whopping around above him and the persistent pain that still wracked his battered body caused Joe to close his eyes. Within minutes of takeoff, the blond Hardy boy was asleep in the small storage compartment.

Roger Davis swore under his breath as he watched the ‘copter quickly disappear from view. He suspected that the boy had somehow managed to get on board. He turned and ran back into the house, making his way to the hidden office underground.

“Hana-bird! Come in!” Davis shouted into the radio microphone.

“Yo, Landowner. What’s the problem? You said to come back to the island in four hours,” responded Hana Puta, the helicopter pilot.

“Get back here now! You’ve got a stowaway!” Davis replied.

“No can do, my man! I just got enough petrol to get to Manila ,” Puta answered. “I gotta refuel.”

Roger slammed the mic back in its stand. He looked up as Robert Daniels walked into the room.

“Is he on the helicopter?” Robert asked.

“That’d be my guess,” Roger said, shaking his head.

“Get us another helicopter now!” Daniels ordered. “I can’t lose Joe now! I’ll never get him back!”

* * *

After picking up Chet Morton at the coffee shop, Frank Hardy began the trek home. He drove north away from the busy traffic of New York City toward the familiar roads of Barmet County .

Most of the trip was made in silence. Chet dozed off in the front passenger seat and Luke Martin sat quietly in the back seat.

“Frank?” Luke almost jumped at the sound of his own voice as it broke the stillness in the car. “Ah, do you think Captain Lucas was telling the truth?”

“Yeah,” Frank replied with a sigh. “He was afraid of the police, so yes, I think he was being honest except about who hired his brother.”

“So his brother Roger took Joe,” Luke pondered out loud. “Now the question is, who is he working for?”

Frank couldn’t help but smile. “Yes my friend. That is the question. Hopefully, my Dad will be able to help supply some of the answers.”

‘And maybe, a little help from the phone company,’ Frank added to himself.

* * *

Hana Puta smiled as he replaced the mic. He glanced briefly toward the rear of the helicopter. He couldn’t see the boy, but he knew the kid was back there.

Puta flew the black bird into a private airport south of Manila . He landed the ‘copter and removed his headphones. The pilot made his way to the back of the helicopter and glanced down at the sleeping youth.

“Hey, Hana!” A shout sounded outside the ‘copter.

“Hello, my brother!” Hana greeted Peter Puta. “I have a great surprise!”

“Yes?”

“The boy on the island? He is sleeping on my bird,” Hana replied with a grin.

“How?” Peter asked, bewildered.

“He crawled inside while I was getting a drink in the shed,” Hana replied. “I have an idea, brother. We could make much money from this boy.

“Yes,” the pilot said softly, “I wonder how much Mister Rich-Island-owner will pay to get his golden boy back?”

* * *

After dropping off his friends at the Morton’s farm, Frank pulled into the driveway of his house on the corner of Elm and High Street.

“Dad?” Frank called out as he walked in the back door.

“He’s at the police station,” answered a weary voice.

Frank turned toward the sound and his heart broke as he peered into his mother’s sad blue eyes. Without another word, Frank wrapped his 6’ 1” frame lovingly around the petite woman.

“I just want Joe home,” she sobbed quietly, leaning against her oldest son for strength.

“I’m sorry, Frank,” Laura Hardy said suddenly, pulling herself away.

“Don’t be,” Frank replied, giving her his best smile. “I miss Joe, too. I think I needed that as much as you did.”

A few hours later, Frank wearily pushed his chair away from his computer desk. He’d found Lucas Davidson’s phone records and was downloading them into a file.

While he waited, Frank wandered into his brother’s room. He flipped on the light and sat on the edge of Joe’s bed. He glanced at the Batman alarm clock on the nightstand. A slip of paper partially tucked underneath caught his attention.

Frank pulled the paper free and studied it for a few minutes. It was a phone number with an area code for the Bronx area in New York . Above the number were the words, ‘Uncle Robert’ in Joe’s familiar scrawl. Frank frowned, he knew that number. He carried the paper to the hall table and picked up the phone.

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Disclaimer

The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The Hardy Boys Fan Fiction authors of the Hardy Detective Agency have just borrowed them for an adventure or two. The authors promise to put the boys back when they are done with them. The authors do claim copyright to the original characters in this story. Please do not borrow original characters without express permission of the authors.