“Good,” said a man with short gray hair and sharp green eyes as Frank was led into the precinct in handcuffs.

Frank looked at the suited man in disgust but kept his mouth shut.  “Take him to the Chief’s office,” Sergeant Riley was instructed.

“I was going to,” Con replied haughtily.  He was rapidly growing to despise the CIA, all distinguishable by their suits and the air of superiority that seemed to permeate the area surrounding them.

The man smothered a grin and turned back to the officer at the front desk as Con and Frank went deeper into the building.  “Are you sure Chief Collig won’t keep me here?” Frank whispered nervously.

“Positive,” Con whispered back.  They arrived at Sergeant Thompson’s desk near the chief’s door.

“Go on in,” Thompson instructed them.

“Get those off of him,” Collig snapped grumpily after the two had entered his office.  “And close that door!”

“Wait!” said the gray-haired agent as he hurried forward before Con could get it shut.

“Finished harassing my men outside?” Collig demanded, getting to his feet and glaring at the agent.

“I wasn’t harassing anyone,” the man denied after he had shut the door behind him.

“Dad!” gasped Frank in surprise.  The disguise his dad was wearing was impeccable and the voice he had used previously had been deep but now that he was speaking normally, Frank knew it was his father.

Fenton walked over and gave Frank a hug after Con released him from the manacles.  “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Fine,” Frank answered.  “But what about you and mom?  I saw the CIA cart you off.”

“Your mother is still in protective custody,” Fenton replied.

“How did you get away?” Frank asked curiously. 

Fenton blushed.  “With Laura’s help,” he answered evasively before changing the subject.  “Have there been any more attempts at communication from Joe’s kidnappers?” he asked, looking at Chief Collig.

“This morning at six a.m.,” acknowledged the Chief.  He reached for the envelope on his desk but paused with his hand lying on top of it.  “It doesn’t say what you were supposed to have done,” he continued.  “I guess that was in the first one.”

“It was,” acknowledged Fenton.  “One of the agents was with the NYPD when I was there,” he explained.  “He told me what the first letter said.”

“What do we need to do?” asked Frank.

“Not what we were instructed to do,” replied Fenton.

“But Joe..” Frank began a heated objection.

“Would not want us to sacrifice hundreds of lives for his,” Fenton ended sternly.  He held out his hand for the envelope.  “May I?” he asked.

Chief Collig lifted the envelope and placed it in Fenton’s hand.  He winced as Fenton pulled out the photograph showing Joe’s colorful side.  Fenton bit his bottom lip and removed the letter after Frank took the photo from him.

“What does it say?” asked Frank, his voice filled with the anger he was feeling at the people who had hurt his brother.

“You now have thirty-six hours left to comply,” Fenton read. “The injury your son has sustained is the first of many to come if you fail to do as you have been instructed.”

“What do they want?” Con asked.

“They want me to help them blow up The Excelsior hotel,” Fenton answered.  “Some VIP’s are arriving there at noon tomorrow.”

“What are you supposed to do?” Frank asked.

“First, to volunteer my services to the concierge,” Fenton informed them.  “I am to get myself the position of chief of security for the duration of the meeting.”

“But you can’t do that because the CIA would nab you,” Frank said with a scowl.

“After I secure the job, I am supposed to feed them information about who is scheduled to attend and when the participants are due to arrive,” Fenton concluded.

“Since you obviously can’t do any of that, what are you going to do?” inquired Collig with a quirk of his brow.  “Keep in mind  that you have all the support you need from me,” he added.

“My guess is that they already have someone in the hotel,” Fenton said.  “And I’m betting they will know me when I get the job even if I am in disguise.”

“What?” Collig, Riley, and Frank all looked askance at him.

“The meeting is top secret,” Fenton explained.  “It was on a need to know basis but somehow the information leaked out.  Plus, our house has been watched since the CIA arrived and one of the terrorists has managed to deliver two messages by hand without getting caught,” he added.

“What are you getting at?” Collig asked.

“He’s saying, someone in the CIA is a traitor,” Frank said.  “One of the men who was at our place last night.”

 

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.