Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

“I-I’ll need protection! Davis ’ll send some goons to bring me down!” Perry cried. Beads of sweat were popping out along his forehead. “I’m dead-meat if Davis finds out!”

F.B.I. Agent Gary Scott gave a brief nod to Fenton and police chief Ezra Collig. Scott moved towards Perry.

“You tell us what you know, and I’ll do my best to see that you’re protected,” Scott assured the man.

Perry looked from one man’s face to the next. “Okay,” he finally agreed.

“Roger Davis contacted me back in December. I knew him from a previous job that made me about thirty grand, so I agreed to help him.

“He said a friend wanted a kidnapping arranged.”

“Did he give you any specifics?” Scott questioned.

“He said the kid’s name was Joe Hardy and he was seventeen. I didn’t recognize the name or – I swear Mr. Hardy- I never would’a had any part of this!”

Fenton merely stared at this scum who helped arrange the kidnapping of his younger son.

Perry licked his lips nervously. “Anyway, Davis sent me an order for a coffin. He planned to take the kid in…”

“Oh my God!” Fenton Hardy paled as the ramifications of Perry’s words hit his heart. “You put my 17-year-old son in a coffin!” Fenton lunged for Perry’s throat.

Ezra and Gary Scott pulled the men apart. Fenton collapsed in a chair, burying his head in his hands.

“He could breathe!” Perry stated, glancing wildly at Mr. Hardy. "Davis designed the coffin so the ends were made out of a thin veneer that was porous.”

“Where was he taking the kid and who else knew about this arrangement?” Scott questioned.

“Davis asked me to get some muscle to help. I contacted Raphael Jackson,” Perry continued.

“A local man; got a rap sheet a mile long,” Collig interjected.

Perry nodded. “Jackson has connections. He got some other guy to help and a British drug we could use on the kid to keep him asleep.”

“Metabast,” Fenton said, barely above a whisper.

“Right,” Perry said. “Davis said his employer didn’t want the kid hurt at all. He said the boy was his son, so Jackson found a drug with no permanent side effects.”

“Go on,” encouraged Scott.

“I-I don’t know where he was takin’ the kid, I swear,” Perry continued, “but I know it would take about 18 hours for them to arrive.”

“18 hours!” Fenton said, incredulous. “That’s got to be half way around the world!”

* * *

“Hello? Hello, is anyone there?”

Frank instantly recognized the voice of Lucas Davidson on the other end of the line. He hung up the phone and stared at the paper. He couldn’t wait any longer for his father to get home.

Frank dashed down the back staircase and headed for the kitchen. He grabbed his mother’s car keys and was out the door.

“Frank!”

The dark-haired youth turned back to the house and saw his mother holding up the telephone. He walked back toward the door.

“It’s your father,” Laura Hardy stated, handing him the portable phone.

“Son? Stay put at the house. I’m on my way home and there’s a lot we need to discuss.”

“Great, Dad!” Frank replied, moving back inside the house. “I’ve got a lot to tell you, too!”

* * *

Joe Hardy’s head was pounding. He slowly opened his eyes and quickly realized he was no longer in the helicopter. He glanced about the dimly lit, windowless room.

Joe sat up on the musty smelling mat he’d been lying on. He winced as the pain in his ribs and arm came to life from the movement.

“Prob’ly not too good you move much,” Peter Puta said softly to the rousing youth.

Joe turned to the voice. “Who are you? Not the pilot, I know.”

“Hana is my brother,” the brown skinned man replied. “My name is Peter. This is my…ah, house.”

“I need to use the bathroom,” Joe stated, looking at the muscular man.

“Go through door,” Peter instructed with a smile.

Joe mustered his strength and moved slowly to the wooden door set into the wall. As Joe neared the door, he had a strange sense that the walls were made of dried mud. Pieces of straw could be seen in the textured pattern. He glanced back at his host. The man sat at a small table, still smiling.

Joe opened the door and looked out. There was nothing past the dirt-packed courtyard except an endless jungle.

Joe closed the door, resting his forehead against the coarse grain. ‘This is an endless nightmare,’ he thought as he heard the Filipino man laughing behind him.

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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.