In another corner of the room, Fenton Hardy sat on a large comfy couch scanning through the case file that he managed to obtain from the FBI. Every so often, he would take a quick look around the room. Just to assure himself everyone was fine, and everything was normal.

He had a long chat with both Brian and Ned, learning as many details as he could about the case. Fenton had been especially interested in the part about the organization and the security measures at the safe house. He made sure he knew about all the agents assigned to the case. He had even called on his partner, Sam Radley, to make some background checks. Still something was not sitting right with him. Frustrated, Fenton threw his notes and files onto the coffee table next to him.

Fenton gave a tired sigh, and was comforted by a pair of familiar arms around his shoulders. He turned to see his wife watching their youngest, sadness and pain evident in her pale blue eyes.

“We really failed him, didn’t we?” she asked, then turned to her husband of twenty years for comfort.

Fenton pulled her down beside him and held her. What could he say? His youngest son was abducted by slave traders and he didn’t know. Then believing Joe ran away, he didn’t search. Because he thought Joe would return home when he was ready, just like he himself did when he ran away from home when he was sixteen.

‘That’s for thinking your kid would think like you do!’ Fenton thought bitterly to himself.

“He still doesn’t know we never really searched for him, Fent. He still doesn’t know.” Laura whispered to her husband, the fear clear in her voice. “Will he forgive us when he finds out?”

“I don’t know, Laur,” Fenton responded. “But we take one step at a time. One firm step at a time… First we get Joe safely to the court house and stand by him. And we make sure the bad guys stay in jail.”

Then Fenton turned and faced his wife, reached for her hand, before continuing, “Then we work to get Joe to trust us again, Laur. Then hopefully, he will let us help him …Laur, oh Laur, he’s taken by a slavery ring…you know what that means, don’t you?”

Laura turned away from him then. But Fenton could see the glistening of tears on her eyelids.

“Laur, Laur, everything will be all right, Laur. Joe will have us …will have Frank. We’ll all be there for him this time…” Fenton told his wife. Or was he telling himself?

Laura’s response was so soft he almost missed it. “Fent, look at Frank. He needs us too…”

Only then did Fenton realize that Frank was standing all by himself, watching his brother broodingly from a distance. He had forgotten all about his elder son! And he felt he really failed as a father, this time to both his sons. He closed his eyes, his shoulders slumped. He buried his face in his hands and groaned.

“Fent…”

Fenton turned back to his wife, and was surprised to see the overwhelming love in her eyes. And he allowed himself to be held and comforted by her. Just for a while.

Suddenly, they heard a little girl’s voice shouting joyously, “I’ve got a brand new BIG brother! And he’s the bestest big brother in the world!”

They saw Joe looking at Frank, the love and admiration for his elder brother shining in his eyes. They saw Frank returning the same acknowledgement, his own eyes suspiciously bright. They saw Frank join the rest of the kids with the little girl in his arms. And Fenton and Laura sat holding each other and watched as Frank and Joe together led the other kids through adventure after adventure as they spun story after story, each more exaggerated and more impossible than the last.

And they realized they were blessed indeed with two exceptional sons.

OHBHBHBHBO

4 months and 4 days earlier:

It was nine in the morning when a group of exhausted but exuberant kids and teens made their way into the FBI office in New York City. The FBI staff was first amused, then disbelieving, then shocked and concerned when the seriousness of the situation finally got through to them. And they had swung quickly into action.

Operation Great Escape had gone off almost without a hitch. Two of the guards had succumbed to the sleeping drug. Unfortunately, the biggest and meanest one did not. So there was a fight.

For one terrifying moment, Joe thought they weren’t going to make it. The huge muscular guard had drawn his gun. Joe had come in a desperate gambit from the side and managed to kick the gun away. In the next instant, Andy, Harry, and Yan all jumped on the guard, hitting what they could – to little effect. Then Phailin came in screaming and landed a well-aimed bottle on the head. That guard must have the hide of an elephant and the head of a rhino, Joe thought in despair, when the chair he used to whack the guard from behind broke into bits, and the guard had seemed none the worse for wear. Then the drug must have finally started to take effect, for the muscular giant had slowly collapsed onto the ground.

They had tied up and gagged all the guards before heading to the computer room. There, they unlocked the cabinets and helped themselves to the clean clothes which they were meant to wear for the auction the next night. Then Joe picked the lock to the safe and helped himself to some of the cash in there, which they would need for the train fare. Phailin and Yan downloaded all the data from the computer and burned multiple copies of CDs for evidence. They also printed out a set of names, as Joe requested.

Then Harry found the photos and the films in one of the cabinets. For a moment, they all stared at it, all lost in their own painful memories. Out of nowhere, the pent-up anger, fear and humiliation erupted and they all jumped on the pictures and tore into them. It was a while before Joe regained a semblance of control and reminded the rest they had to move if they wanted to catch the train. Joe gathered all the torn-up photos and films into a bag. They could get rid of those later.

The trek to the train station under the cover of night had taken nearly an hour and they had almost missed the train. Joe and Yan ended up having to carry little Anna-Marie and Yuki when they both got too tired to walk. The few other passengers on the train had eyed them curiously, but no one approached them.

Once on the train, Joe had gone through the printouts and was horrified to find out that there were a good number of cops on the bad guys’ pay list. So they ended up spending the rest of the night in a deserted alleyway, not wanting to risk the police station. Joe thought it would be safer to walk into a busy FBI office in the morning, where there would be too many people for a corrupt agent to act. He had also hidden a second and third set of CDs just in case. No one else had known where he hid them.

The FBI agents who took on their case had been impressed by their well-planned and executed escape and the amount of information that they had managed to gather. They had also brought in several counselors and psychiatrists for emotional support. All in all, most of the FBI staff had handled them as if they were fragile glass. The teens, like Joe, were uncomfortable with that. But the younger kids had soaked up all the attention like sponges.

Then there had been the exhaustive long interviews and the depressingly requisite medical checkups. The respective parents were contacted, and it did not take them long to arrive. The family reunions had been emotional, joyous, and full of hugs and tears. And Joe had stood alone, apart from them, and drank in the happy scene before him. He had simply felt happy just looking on.

Soon, it was time for them all to part ways. The kids had exchanged contact details and promised to stay in touch. The parents had promised to make sure their kids continued with the counseling sessions and that they would be there for the trial. It would be a closed trial due to the youth of the key witnesses. The FBI had worked hard to keep the entire incident from the media.

Joe had smiled inwardly at the fact that no one had noticed he only gave out his Yahoo email account. But he had made sure that he got everyone else’s home address and contact numbers.

Phailin was the last to leave. She had hung back until everyone was gone before approaching him.

“You did great,” she said.

“You too,” Joe responded.

They had both simply stood and smiled and looked at each other for a long while. Finally, Phailin moved towards him, and gave him a light kiss on his cheek.

“I expect to see your email at least once a week,” she told him in a no-nonsense tone.

Then she turned and left. Joe blushed and watched her all the way until she was out of sight.

“You okay? Sure you don’t want me to call your family?” a familiar voice enquired from behind him.

Joe turned and looked Cole Anderson, one of his dad’s buddies from the police academy, right in the eye and said, “No. I want to surprise them.” Then after a thoughtful pause, he continued with a small smile on his face, “They’ll be proud of me, won’t they?”

Cole looked down at his young charge and wondered how he let the boy talk him into not calling Fenton. He sighed and hoped he would not come to regret his actions for today.

“Of course they will, Joe.” Cole said. “And you better get going too. You WILL tell your family everything, right?”

“Yeah,” Joe mumbled, staring at his shoes.

“AND, you will remember to check in with us every month until the trial date, won’t you?” Cole pressed on.

“Yeah,” Joe mumbled again.

Cole sighed, and then offered. “You want me to give you a ride back to Bayport?”

Joe gave Cole a little smile as he shook his head. “I’ll take the train back. Thanks for the offer. I appreciate it.”

With that, he turned and walked out of the building.

Let the author know what you think of this story

Home Library Authors Rogue's Gallery Vehicles Chums Message Board Rap Sheet Links Contact

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.