“Easy, Son,” a voice came through the darkness that surrounded Frank. He tried to open his eyes but was met with a barrier of blinding pain. He squinted then tried again. “Easy,” said the voice once again. “An ambulance is on its way.”

“Joe,” Frank mumbled as he tried to rise

“Stay put,” he was ordered as a hand gently pushed him back to the ground. “You’re here alone.”

“What?” Frank demanded in panic. He tried to sit up again. “Where’s Joe? Where’s my brother?”

“He’s not here,” said the voice again, using a little pressure to keep Frank prone. “Just try to relax.”

Frustrated, Frank bit his bottom lip as he lay looking up at the man in his early thirties who was insisting on keeping him still. “Have you called the police?”

“They are on their way too,” Frank was promised.

“Who are you?” Frank inquired, looking into the man’s blue eyes questioningly.

“I’m Andrew Thompson,” he answered. “I’m a med student at Duke University.”

“Duke?” Frank asked, wondering what he was doing here.

“I’m on break,” he explained. “My parents live in Bayport.” He smiled down at Frank. “I guess you’re wondering what happened.”

“You saw?” Frank demanded angrily, wondering why he hadn’t tried to help when their attackers took Joe.

“No,” he answered. “But two kids who were waiting in the car for their dad did. They are in the restaurant now waiting for the police to arrive.”

“Did they say what happened?” Frank asked.

“Apparently there were five men waiting for you and..your brother?” he asked, looking at Frank as he remembered what Frank had asked earlier. Frank nodded. “They knocked you out first and then your brother. Then they picked your brother up and carried him to a blue van and tossed him into the back and took off.” He looked at Frank with a frown on his handsome face. “From what the boys said, they completely ignored you after you went down. They were specifically after your brother,” he ended as the sirens which had been faint while he talked grew louder as they approached.

The police reached the scene first. “Frank?” demanded curly, brown-headed Sergeant Con Riley as he saw who was in need of the paramedics’ services. The med student stood and backed out of the way as Riley knelt down beside Frank.

“They took Joe,” Frank informed him at once.

“Who?” Con demanded, his brown eyes hardening. He was an old friend of Frank’s and Joe’s and always took a personal interest in anything that involved the brothers.

“I don’t know,” Frank replied, aware that shaking his head was not a very good idea at the moment. “We got jumped on the way to the van. We’re not even working on a case.”

“Your dad?” Con asked as an ambulance pulled into the parking lot.

“I..I don’t know,” he admitted.

“I’ll call him and have him meet us at the hospital,” Con said.

“I don’t need..” Frank started to object but closed his mouth as Con scowled at him.

***

Joe moaned and moved his head as he attempted to open his eyes but groaned and ceased movement. Not the best idea I ever had, Joe acknowledged silently. He opened his eyes and then closed them again as the ray of light that filtered through set off a terrible pain in his head. No pain, no gain, he thought and opened them, forcing himself not to shut them again.

He was bound and gagged and stuffed in a small closet where light from the room outside crept through the ill-fitted door. Joe rolled his shoulders and twisted his wrists. There was some slack, but was there enough to work himself free? He kept twisting and turning his wrists until he felt the rope give. Pulling hard on his left hand it slipped through the rope. He brought his hands in front of him and ripped off the gag then set about untying his feet.

Getting to his knees and ignoring the pain in his head, he tried the knob on the door. It wouldn’t turn. Grunting, he got to his feet and rammed his naked shoulder at the door. He felt it give a bit and waited to see if anyone would come to check on him. When he heard no sound he tried again. “Almost,” he grunted and gave it one more hard shove. He fell on the door as if fell to the floor.

He got shakily to his feet and looked at the door. He had expected it to burst open not off! Giving himself a little shrug, he looked around the room for his clothes and wondered why they had been taken off of him to begin with. Finding nothing, he turned back to the closet he had been imprisoned in and removed a pair of pants and a shirt, both a bit too big for him, and put them on. No belt. He would just have to keep hoisting the pants up as he moved to keep them from tumbling below his waist. He hated pants that did that and thought people who wore their pants that way intentionally had a few screws loose.

There was a door on the far side of the room and wondered if perhaps he should chance it since no one had arrive to see what the disturbance was about. But, as he glanced out the window, he decided to play it safe and exit that way since he was on the ground floor. He eased the window open and climbed out. As he turned around he came face to face with a man in his mid twenties with straight black hair, gray eyes and a dimple on his left cheek that was extremely prominent as he smiled at Joe.

“Now, just where would you be going?” he asked, his right hand moving forward until Joe felt cold hard steel punching him in the belly.

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.