Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

He'd learned early on, that the ones in the mission-naming department either were so witty they could make the entire name a subtle joke or.....not.... And as for as code words? Joseph MacKensey snorted. That was a laugh---or maybe a groan. Just because it was Ireland, did everything have to refer to leprechauns and fairies? Joe shook his head.

The road was quiet enough on this early Sunday afternoon with minimal traffic, most headed in the opposite direction. He found himself glancing in the rearview mirror again---actually he'd look up and to his right only to find himself staring at the rubber rim of the window sill and have to look over to his left for the rearview mirror.

Why couldn't every country just agree to either drive on the right--or the left--but make it universal? Instead of here, you drive on the left, but just across the border you drive on the right and half a mile further you drive slapdab down the middle of the highway.

Joe grunted and glanced in the rearview mirror. He'd half-expected Casi to follow him. To make sure he didn't do anything stupid, but the highway was empty. He sighed and when he caught a glimpse of himself in the sideview mirror which was on the right, he saw he was wearing a giddy smile. She loved him. God, that was good to know, good to hear. Not good, great, stupendous, splendid---Joe told his brain to shut up.

He relaxed against the seat. It was a gorgeous day, bright sunshine, everything green and blooming. He wsn't Irish--his father claimed a Scottish heritage--but he'd fallen in love with Ireland eight years ago when Casi had invited him to Castle MacFairlaigne for Christmas.

Joe steered one-handed, resting his right arm on the open window. The drive to Kenmare wasn't a long one and he wanted to enjoy it while he could. He sighed. Jack had seen all this as fate. He'd been after the Hadads for several years now and he'd had to come to Ireland anyway...Sometimes he wished his boss wasn't so conniving.

Joe shifted into a more comfortable position and thought about what he did know. Tarik Hadad, a native Moroccan and the founder of Hadad Pharmaceuticals must be turning in his grave. Hadad Pharmaceuticals had begun in the early sixties, creating new drugs to combat the onslaught of new illnesses and diseases. Unfortunately his only son Khalil had other plans for the company. Khalil had killed his father and changed the company into a drug-running operation in the late seventies. For ten years, Khalil ran a tight operation but in 1988, it backfired. He'd gotten careless and Interpol had pounced on his tail. Then Khalil had vanished, believed dead from an explosion.

His two eldest children, already in their midtwenties took over. Joe and Ethan had tracked Omar Hadad to New Delhi several years ago which had led them to Egypt but both Omar and his sister Shakira had vanished.

Joe grunted. He blamed himself for loosing them. He'd been a tad distracted in Cairo, running into Casi, spending the night in jail. He felt that stupid grin come over his face again and he gave up trying to fight the feeling. She loved----

Something slammed into the rear of the Bentley, jerking him forward then back. Joe's head bounced off the hard leather headrest and he winced. He moved to look behind him when the something hit him again. The car slewed all over the road until Joe had it under control. He saw it was a dump truck, the cab higher than the car, blocking his view of the driver.

Joe frowned and stomped the accelerator to the floor. That idiot yesterday must have blown his cover. The dump truck slammed into him again. Joe went forward despite the seatbelt, banged his chin on the wheel, then he slammed back against the seat. Before he could recover, the truck came up alongside and hit him again, knocking him completely off the road.

Joe grunted painfully as the car plunged into a deep ditch. The seatbelt snapped in two and he came out of his seat, hitting the door frame. His last conscious thought was that it was too bad this hadn't been James Bond's car.....

***

"Don't you trust me?"

"Hell, no."

Erick threw up his hands in surrender, shaking his head to get his long dark hair out of his face. "Stop asking for advice then." He adjusted the strap of his guitar on his shoulder. "Go away. I have to practice the Wedding March."

"Eddie Van Halen you're not."

Erick glared at him. "Well, I'm no Dear Abby either. Go away."

Ethan didn't move. "Why isn't Kari playing the Wedding March? On piano?"

"Because she can't be in two places at once." At Ethan's frown, he added, "She's a bridesmaid."

"Oh." Ethan looked around his brother's room. "Erick---"

"Look. I think you should tell. Liam and Ally have known you---us---for years. What could they possibly do? Call off the wedding?"

"I wouldn't put it past them."

Erick groaned, his blue eyes growing hard. "Tell me, when did you acquire this persecution complex?"

"You're no psychiatrist either."

"Okay, fine. How's this?" Erick took the strap of the guitar from around his neck and handed it to his younger brother. "You play the March, I'll marry Cat."

"Bigamy is against the law in Virginia."

"What cabbage truck did you fall off of? I live in Massachusetts."

"Bigamy is against the law there, too."

"I'm not married to Vanna---yet. So you okay with that?"

Ethan sighed and shook his head. "No. I never could play the guitar."

Erick grunted and sat back down on his bed, replacing the guitar strap around his neck. "Go away. Go far far away."

Ethan narrowed his brown eyes. "Oh shut up. You don't even have a scar."

"Ah, but my motto is definitely, be prepared."

"For what? A road tour with Van Halen?"

"No, actually, fifty ways to kill your brother."

Ethan shook his head again and headed for the door. "And to think I'm actually kin to you," he muttered and left.

"So sue me!" shouted Erick. He strummed the guitar, searching for the opening chords of the Wedding March. Instead, he kept playing the opening riffs to Circle of Life from the The Lion King soundtrack. "Oh just great."

***

Casi let the cool air of the refrigerator wash over her as she bent down to snag a soda. She'd just barely beat Donovan thirty to twenty seven and she was hot, thirsty, and tired. And yet it felt good to be this tired.

"So who wore whom out?" asked Brittani, as she finished loading the dishes into the dishwasher.

"I wore Donovan out and beat him too." Casi took a long drink of root bear. "You could probably do anything to him right now."

Brittani's blue eyes twinkled. "Anything?"

Casi laughed. "Better hurry."

Brittani winked and left as Catherine walked in. She glanced at the empty sink, then sighed. Then she turned to leave. Casi put down her soda can. "Hey, Cat, whoa."

Catherine looked over at her. "What?"

"What's wrong?"

Catherine frowned. "I'd just come to do the dishes...."

"Britt did them."

"She's fitting in nicely."

"Yeah. So?"

"What?"

"Exactly."

"It's nothing."

Casi folded her arms across her chest. "Which is a whole different kind of trouble."

Catherine blinked. "Do what?"

Her sister was worried about something, Casi knew. Catherine was never ever this distracted. "What is it, Cat?"

Catherine stared down at the flagstone floor, worn smooth over the years. She took a deep breath, as if steeling herself for doing something she dreaded. Casi could feel her distress coming off of her sister in waves, but she forced herself not to say another word. Finally, Catherine raised her head. "Remember when I told you about the car wreck?"

Casi stared at her, puzzled, trying to remember what car wreck. Then she knew. "That was four years ago, Cat---"

"It wasn't a car wreck," her sister blurted out.

Casi took a step forward then stopped herself. She felt, sensed that Catherine had to do this. "Go on."

"I was filling in for Elana at her store, when she had it in Arlington. Some stupid thieves burst in, because there were loose diamonds stored there. One of thieves shot a customer and----" Catherine kept her hazel-eyed gaze on the flagstone floor, feeling a moment of panic, even though she knew of all her family, her sister would understand. "Ethan was there, trying to get me to go on a date with him when it happened. I jumped into the fray to help the customer at the moment that Ethan fired back at the thief---"

"And got you instead," said Casi, quietly. "You never told me."

"Both Ethan and I feared everyone would blame him. It was my---"

"No." Casi closed the distance between her and her sister. "No. It was nobody's fault. Why would Ethan think we'd blame him? Or blame you? Didn't you tell him we'd gotten into worse scrapes?"

Catherine took a deep breath. "Yeah, well, Donovan---"

"Donovan, hell. He'd have to be blind, deaf, dumb, and heartless." Casi took her sister by the shoulders. "You want to know the truth? We all like Ethan. He's funny, he's fun, he'll make a great brother-in-law. So what brought all this on?"

"Well, Marc was talking about you and Joe and---"

"I'll kill him." Casi groaned. "Oh shit, I won, I can't kill him. Oohh, but I'll make him suffer....somehow."

Catherine smiled for the first time since she'd entered the kitchen.

"Case.."

"What?"

"I know just the way to do it, too," said Cat, her smile spreading into a mischevious grin.

Casi's grin matched her sister's. "I'm all ears."

***

Joseph MacKensey opened his eyes and quickly closed them against the brightness. His chin felt bruised and his head and neck hurt. Then he remembered. He opened his eyes more slowly and found himself in a brightly lit gray-walled windowless room. A woman was seated across from him, clad entirely in black. Her long blond hair waved around a lovely oval face, but he noticed the strange clear eyes were hard, hard and cold as chips of ice. Horror speared through him as his befuddled brain finally clicked. What the hell was she doing in Ireland? "No."

"Hello, Joseph."

Hate washed over him. "What are you doing here, Lilith Raven?"

"I'm flattered that you remember me."

Joe frowned, as the last of the haziness cleared from his mind. "It's rather hard to forget the person who's tried to kill me six times."

"Tried?" Lilith laughed, a bell chime, but her colorless eyes stayed cold. "There is no try." She narrowed her eyes. "And if you're counting, you forgot one."

Joe's fingers tightened on the arms of the plastic lawn chair he was sitting in. "What do you mean?"

Lilith cocked her head, making her long blond hair cascade over one black-clad sweater. "It had been raining," she began conversationally. "She was a pretty enough girl, what was her name?"

The plastic arms of the chair cracked as he reflexively clenched his hands. His anger blotted out the pain of a razor-sharp piece of plastic slicing his palm. "Her name," he said through clenched teeth, "was Bryce. Her name was Bryce."

Lilith nodded and smiled. "What an unusual name."

If finally sank in what she meant. Bryce---she'd killed Bryce---Lilith Raven had been the sniper that rainy night in April of last year. "You killed her."

"Of course. Orders are orders."

Joe couldn't deal with that bit of information. He was still focused on the fact Raven had been the sniper. "You---"

"Don't say anything you'll regret, Joseph. Regrets can be lethal."

"My only regret is that I didn't kill you years ago. But I'll kill you now."

Lilith smiled then. "Many have tried."

Joe shot to his feet, ready to throttle her, see the life choked out of her. "Then I'll succeed."

"You're bleeding."

Distracted, Joe looked down at his right palm, surprised for that crucial moment. Lilith stepped forward, grasped his wrist and turned his bloody hand palm up. He started to yank his arm free when she plunged the thin needle of a hypodermic syringe into his palm, directly in the wound. She slid the plunger home, then pulled the syringe free, apparently not the least concerned about being gentle.

"What the hell--?" He started to say, but a wave of dizziness swept over him. When he felt steady again, he found he was gripping her slender shoulder tightly. From the look on her face, he was hurting her but he didn't let up the pressure, couldn't afford to. "What....did you just do?"

"Goodbye, Joseph," she said coldly, finally.

Blackness crowded his vision and he found it hard to breath. What the hell had been in that syringe, he thought dazedly. "Wha---?" A face flashed in his mind, auburn curls, gold-brown eyes. "Casi--" he managed to say, before collapsing to the cement floor, nearly taking Lilith with him.

She straightened her black sweater and walked to a nearly invisible door set in the featureless wall. She knocked once and the door swung open. Two men came in and lugged the unconscious MacKensey out of the room. Lilith folded her arms across her chest and smiled. It had begun....

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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.