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

Fenton Hardy woke early Tuesday morning to the sound of soft moaning. A rectangle of sunlight shown on the dirt floor of the small, cinder block building. Fenton looked across the 8-foot by 10-foot room to the army-style cot against the wall. He slowly sat up, running his hand through his dark hair. He made his way across the room.

"Jack," Mr. Hardy called softly, "Jack, can you hear me? Wake up, Buddy."

Jack Wayne moaned, placing a hand on his head. "I feel like I’ve been run over by a herd of wild mustangs!" Fenton smiled and helped Jack sit up.

Both men were wearing the same one-piece, khaki jumpsuits they had started their trip in. Now they were covered in dirt, grim and dried blood. They had survived their emergency landing only to be captured by a group of young, rebel soldiers. Now they sat as prisoners in a tropical jungle. They weren’t sure if they were in Bolivia or Peru. Fortunately, neither man was seriously injured.

"Where are we Chief?" Jack asked, checking out the surroundings. The walls were bare, the roof was metal and the floor was dirt. There was only one window, about a foot square in size, with a steel bar going down the center. It was high on the wall, close to the ceiling. It was obviously meant for light, not for viewing outside. The only door was on the opposite side of the room. It was metal and had a slat about 15" wide by 2" high. There were two cots and two buckets in the room. One bucket held water and a rusty ladle. A layer of dust had settled on top of the water. The two men assumed the other bucket was their ‘bathroom’.

"I’m not sure where we are, Jack," Fenton replied, gazing toward the window, "but I think we were in Bolivia when we landed."

"Is the plane dead?" Jack asked, following Fenton’s gaze.

"I don’t think the plane is going to see the air again," Fenton responded, "It’s not fixable." Fenton went on to explain about their capture and that he thought they traveled north from the plane.

"Then we could be in Peru," Jack surmised.

"Jack, if you’re feeling up to it, why don’t you climb on my shoulders and take a gander out of that window?" suggested Mr. Hardy. Jack nodded and Mr. Hardy knelt as the younger man climbed onto Fenton’s broad shoulders. At 42, Fenton Hardy still had the strength and musculature of a much younger man. He often spent time working out in their basement weight room with his sons. Mr. Hardy stood and grasped Jack’s ankles.

"What do you see?" Fenton asked.

"Looks very military," Jack began, "A lot of soldiers walking around with big, ugly guns. There are two other buildings like ours and then two bigger buildings with guards posted outside the doors." Fenton was about to let Jack down when he gave out a low whistle.

"What Jack? What do you see?" Mr. Hardy anxiously asked.

"Somebody important must be coming," Jack replied, "The soldiers are all standing at attention and a big, old, black pony is pulling in the courtyard."

"Jack," Fenton asked, "Who’s in the car? Are they getting out?" Jack watched as a guard opened the door of the antique, black sedan. A very young man all dressed in white with a matching white turban on his head emerged. He waved his arms in the air as the soldiers all fell to their knees, bowing in homage to the man. The young man in white and his guards entered the largest building as the soldiers returned to their posts. Jack described the scene to Mr. Hardy. Fenton eased Jack down and then sank to the dirt floor.

"You okay, Chief?" Jack asked with concern.

"Jack," Mr. Hardy answered, looking into his friend’s nearly black eyes, "That man you described is Mafesto Santiago. He is the leader of the group that kidnaps boys between 10 and 18 years of age and trains them to fight as soldiers for his personal army."

"Ah, Mr. H?" Jack questioned, "Isn’t that the group called the ‘Son’s of Fire’?"

"Yes," replied Fenton quietly, "and it’s the very group I was send here to investigate. Santiago has kidnapped Senator Richard Hladley’s sixteen-year-old son. His name is Jason. The boy was working in Gazi, Peru at the U. S. Embassy. I was hired to find and rescue Jason. That might be a bit difficult since we’re prisoners of Santiago, too."

"Our cover is probably still okay, right?" Jack asked nervously. They had I.D.’s and fake credentials that said they were American journalists.

"That’s a possibility," Fenton agreed. "We didn’t have any real identification on us or the plane. That might just save our hides." Fenton sighed and rubbed his eyes.

"What else is on your mind, Boss?" Jack asked, reading Fenton’s body language.

"I’m not sure how long we’ve been here," Mr. Hardy answered, "But I’m sure my boys are already looking for us."

"That’s good, right?" Jack asked, confused at Fenton’s apparent distress.

"Yes," Fenton replied, "as long as they find us, before Santiago finds them."

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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.