Hardy Boys Fan Fiction at the Hardy Detective Agency - Presenting "South American Search & Rescue" by CQB

It had taken Sam Radley nearly an hour to get the distraught 18-year-old calmed down. Now he gazed at the boy and could hear Frank Hardy’s shuttered breathing. Sam sighed and moved to sit closer to Conner Bailey, who had been sitting silently across the room, watching them.

The three of them were holed up in an abandoned church. The church benches offered a place to sleep for the three exhausted men.

"Care to explain what Frank meant when he said he ‘saw’ Joe get killed?" Conner asked, glancing at Frank’s sleeping form, and then settling his gaze on Sam Radley. "We were all together here. There is no way he could see anything going on in that compound."

"I wish I could," Sam began, "Conner, you’ve seen how close Frank and Joe are, right? I mean, you can’t help but notice that they have a pretty unique relationship. What we see on the outside is only the half of it. They have an uncanny ability to know what is going on with each other, even to the point of experiencing each other’s pain."

"Radley," Conner chuckled softly, "You’ve been watching too much of the Sci-Fi channel!"

Sam smiled at Conner’s response. He obviously never experienced the almost, supernatural bond the Hardy brother’s shared. "I know it sounds crazy. But, I’ve seen it in action. Even when they were little kids."

"You really believe they can...what? Communicate telepathically or something?" Conner stared at Sam, thinking the guy really needed some rest.

"Once when Joe was about 8, the brothers were staying with my wife and me while their folks were out of town. Joey, that’s what we called him then, had a cold and was running a fever, so my wife Ethel made him stay in doors while Frank was outside, sledding with the neighbor kids. Joey pouted and fussed in the typically ‘Joe Hardy fashion’, until Eth told him he could help her bake cookies." Sam paused as he heard a soft sound come from Frank’s direction. He rose to check on the boy. Noting that all was well, he returned to Conner and his story.

"Joey was quite content helping to mix the batter and drop the cookies on the cookie sheet. Suddenly he let out a piercing scream, grabbing his side and toppling off the kitchen chair. Eth ran to the child and I came running out of my office like lightening, expecting someone to be dead. Joey was writhing on the floor in agony, clutching his right side."

"He wasn’t hurt, was he?" Conner asked, a chill running up his spine.

"Nope," Sam said, shaking his head. "Frank had been sledding down a steep embankment. He miscalculated and crashed into a tree. He hit his right side so hard that his appendix had ruptured. Joe had felt the pain of his brother."

"So what Frank saw, was like a vision or something," Conner replied, running his hand through his shaggy, blond hair. "Any chance he could be wrong about it being Joe?"

"Possibly," Sam answered. "He saw a light-haired guy get shot down. He’s assuming it was Joe."

* * *

Terrible screaming woke Fenton Hardy from a restless sleep. He glanced at the other cot to see Jack Wayne lying on his side with his hands over his ears. Fenton went to Jack’s cot.

"Do you have any idea what’s going on?" Fenton whispered to Jack.

"I heard Santiago’s voice giving orders for the ‘punishment’ to begin," Jack answered. "Other than that, all I’ve heard is someone screaming."

"I hate to ask..." Mr. Hardy began.

"You want me to have a look outside, right?" Jack asked, dreading the answer.

"One of us should," Mr. Hardy asked. Jack nodded. He then climbed again onto Mr. Hardy’s shoulders and looked out the small window of their cell.

"Oh, man," Jack said softly, "I can’t...this is bad, Chief." Mr. Hardy eased Jack back to the ground.

"The black kid that’s been our escort? He’s being beaten," Jack stated, "All the others are standing around at attention, watching. Doesn’t look like they have much of a choice, either. You wanna have a look?"

"Think you can hold me up there, Jack?" Fenton asked, wanting to know if Jason was around. "Sure," Jack replied.

Fenton looked around the compound, first focusing on the scene in the center of the courtyard. The young man who had been one of their escorts since their arrival was strapped to a beam that was held off the ground by two support posts. A heavy-set boy was beating the black boys exposed back with a cat-o-nine tails type whip. Fenton began searching the young soldiers faces carefully. His eyes finally found Jason Hladley, standing back away from the gruesome scene in the center of the courtyard. There was another militia soldier near Jason that was having a difficult time. The young man was being sick beside the wall of the ammunitions building. Jason was trying to hurry the boy, so they wouldn’t be missed. There was something almost familiar about the bent over figure...Fenton’s eyes grew wide and his throat constricted. He almost fell off Jack’s shoulders in an attempt to move away from the window as he watched the young soldier stand up and turn toward their cell. Jack fell to his knees and Fenton Hardy tumbled backwards, gasping for breath.

"Easy, Chief," Jack said, seeing Fenton’s pale coloring.

"Jack!" Fenton rasped, "My son! My God, Joe’s out there!"

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Disclaimer

The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The authors 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.