NO PLACE TO HIDE
by
Sandpiper
Chapter 8
The Chapters
Joe dodged the lunge and swung Amanda’s sword, aiming for Frank’s handcuffs. The moment the blade sliced through the chain, Joe spun around and faced Sven.
Feeling a bit more steady, Frank remembered the sword in the bedroom. He made his way there, as he heard swords clash behind him. He turned to see Sven pushing Joe up against the railing, their swords locked together.
Frank took the sword off the dresser and made his way back to the balcony. He gripped the sword in both hands and swiped at Sven’s back. Sven stiffened and glanced over his shoulder. “Do not be in such a hurry. I will get to you in time.”
Joe used the distraction to push Sven away. Then he and Frank faced Sven together. “Ah, two against one, that hardly seems fair,” said Sven.
Frank noted the sudden silence and he spared a moment to look down. The den was empty but he could still hear clashing swords. The fight between Duncan and Sergei must have moved outside.
Sven took that moment to aim a lunge at Frank. Joe raised Amanda’s sword, knocking Sven off balance. Sven made a low growling noise and tossed the sword from his left hand to his right, swinging it right at Joe’s neck.
Joe ducked and lifted his sword but his aim was off and the edge of the blade slid across Sven’s shoulder. Blood began to soak the white shirt Sven was wearing. The man snarled under his breath and lunged for Joe.
Joe nearly tripped as he backed down the stairs. He nudged Frank to keep behind him, and kept an eye on Sven. “Why do I feel I’m in the middle of a horror movie?” muttered Joe.
Frank rolled his eyes. “Joe—” A second later the lights went out with a loud snap of overloaded electrical circuits. “Oh this just keeps getting better.”
There was a noise on the balcony and Joe saw Sven come slowly down the stairs. “You will pay for that,” snapped Sven.
Joe knew they were at a disadvantage in the dark. He searched for the French doors and headed that way, only to see lightning arc down from the sky, snaking across a silver blade.
Sven took off after him but as they reached the open French doors, Duncan stepped between Joe and Sven. Sven skidded to a halt and frowned. “I—”
“You only sense one, don’t you,” said Duncan.
With the streetlight, Joe could see the puzzlement on Sven’s face. “You really did travel through time? But that’s impossible.”
“We will end this tonight, Sven. Either by the rules or you will walk away.”
“I never walk away.” Sven glared at Duncan. “This is not holy ground now,” he added, cryptically.
Duncan backed up a step. “Frank, Joe, go around the house. My car and Amanda’s are parked at the curb. Go.”
Joe shook his head. “Duncan...”
“Go. Now. This is not meant for your eyes.”
The brothers shared a look and walked around to the front of the house to find Amanda hurrying back, looking breathless. “She got away,” she snapped, sounding angry. She looked at Joe and held out a palm. “My sword.”
Joe handed it to her. “Sorry.”
“Not your fault but if I ever meet up with her again, I might just take her head.”
Joe went very still and looked Amanda over. “Don’t tell me...there really was a Queen of Hearts.”
“You mean Queen of Tarts,” called Methos as he joined them. He sighed. “Dawson was against this plan. I had to convince him that it was in all of our best interests.”
“Methos, just wait until we get back to Paris. I have plans to redecorate....your place.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
Amanda smiled. “You know I dare quite a lot, Methos. All the time.”
Methos rolled his eyes. “Where’s—?”
The streetlights went out again as a lightning surge snapped through an electrical line, bounced off the antenna attached to the house and hit something in the backyard that sizzled. Joe wondered if it had hit the pool. Methos sighed. “Let’s hope MacLeod’s having all the fun.”
Amanda sighed. “Go away, Methos.”
The strange lightning finally faded away and Duncan came around the corner of the house. “We should go,” he said, sounding exhausted.
Joe frowned. “What about Sergei and Sven?”
“They won’t bother you anymore.” Duncan took a deep breath. “I think it’s time you two headed home.”
Frank looked down at the sword still in his hand. “I won’t argue with that.” He handed the sword to Methos and started for Duncan’s rental car.
Joe nodded. “I’m ready for a nice good sleep. Think Mom will let us skip school tomorrow?”
“We’d have to come up with a good excuse. I don’t think she’d buy the whole sword-and-Immortal thing.”
“Hmmm....I’ll think of something.”
Methos watched them get in the back seat and turned to Duncan. “So?”
“It’s over.” Duncan arched an eyebrow as his friend just looked at him. “I’m fine. That was only that one time.”
“Just checking, MacLeod. I don’t know all the police procedures over here.”
Duncan just shook his head and headed for the car. “Go away, Methos.” He got in the rental car and glanced at the brothers in the back seat. “I’ll take you to your van and you can head home.”
Joe gave vent to a wide yawn. “Thanks.”
Duncan gave a weary nod and headed back to the inn. They met up with Amanda and Methos, who had come back in her rental car. Duncan turned to face them as Frank and Joe got out of the backseat. “We probably won’t meet again. It would be best that way. We’ll be gone by morning.”
Frank nodded slowly, his head still throbbing. “The swords you gave us—”
“Are yours to keep. Especially the one for Joe. It was the one he had...then.” Duncan held out a hand. “I’m honored to meet you both. Try not to encounter any more lethal Immortals. I live in Paris. It’s not easy to just jump on a transatlantic flight anymore.”
Joe shook the man’s hand. “Thank you for your help.”
Duncan nodded. Frank shook his hand and then the brothers got into their van. Joe took the wheel since Frank didn’t feel up to driving. “That’s it, Frank. You fell and broke your crown—”
“When you start quoting nursery rhymes, I know you’re tired.”
Joe started the engine and backed out of his parking space. “This day seems like it’s lasted forever.”
“Yeah. Now I’m ready to crash and sleep for about a week.”
“Me too.” Joe drove home, feeling better despite the exhausting day. They had their answers now and even though it might not be logical or even make sense, he knew the truth. And that was what he had needed most of all.
***
Thursday, April 20th
9:41 am
Joe woke with a start, wondering why the alarm hadn’t gone off. He glanced at the clock at the head of his bed and groaned. He hadn’t set the alarm and now he was seriously late for school. He moved to get up but every muscle protested. Good grief, he was sore everywhere.
Joe groaned and slowly got to a sitting position. The sun shone brightly through his open blinds and he squinted against the glare. Gradually, his memories of yesterday came into focus. The sword fighting, the reality of what had happened in Barbados...Frank getting hurt. “Frank!”
“There’s no need to shout. I’m right here.” Frank stood in the doorway of the bathroom. “Mom thought we both needed the sleep, so she decided not to wake us this morning. She said I can miss a couple of days but after that, I have to buckle down and finish.”
“I’m okay with a mini-vacation.” Joe lay back down. “Now that I know I’m not in trouble, I’m going back to bed.”
“Aunt Gertrude’s home and cooking breakfast.”
Joe sat up again. “Breakfast? You mean the real thing?”
Frank rolled his eyes. “Cereal and milk are a real breakfast, Joe.”
“Not when they’re compared to eggs, bacon and toast. I’ll beat you to the breakfast table.”
Frank grinned. “You’re on.”
Joe scrambled out of bed and headed for the door, with Frank right behind him. They dashed down the stairs, skidded around the newel post and headed into the kitchen, Joe making it in just before Frank.
“Aunt Gertrude, welcome home,” he said and gave her a bear-hug.
Gertrude, a tall slender woman with salt-and-pepper hair arched an eyebrow but gave her youngest nephew a hug in return. “Hello, Joe...Frank. I didn’t think you two missed me that much.”
“Of course, Aunt Gertrude,” said Joe, grinning widely. “We always miss you.”
Gertrude’s brown eyes gave first Joe and then Frank a critical once-over. “Hmm...well, I’m home, Joseph and in the middle of frying bacon. How about unhanding me so the bacon isn’t burned to a crisp.”
“Oh.” Joe let go of her and made a show of smoothing her blouse and skirt. “Sorry, Aunty.”
Gertrude patted his cheek, her eyes assessing his appearance. “That’s quite all right, Joseph. I haven’t been welcomed home quite so fiercely in years. I do believe the last time...the last time...”
Gertrude blinked and gave Joe a puzzled look. “Now, go wash up. Breakfast is almost ready.”
Joe nodded. “Sure, Aunty.” He grinned at Frank. “Race you.”
Gertrude started to say something but just sighed and shook her head. It was good to be home.
***
After breakfast, Frank and Joe didn’t protest too loudly about cleaning the kitchen so their aunt could unpack her suitcases and wash clothes. But when they started a water fight, their mother shooed them out of the kitchen.
Frank looked down at his pajama top. “I’m soaked.”
“Hey, so am I. Do you see me complaining?” Joe glanced out the living room window. “Hey, isn’t that Sam’s car?”
“What’s he—?” Frank started to ask as Sam Radley came out of their father’s study.
“All right, Fenton, I’m glad Brogan could help – Oh, hey, boys.”
Frank and Joe stepped back to let Sam Radley out of the doorway. Joe sketched a wave. “Hi, Sam.”
Sam smiled at them. “Hey, Frank, Joe, talk about timing. Your dad was just saying he needed to talk to you.” The man leaned back into the office and nodded. “I’m gone. Talk to you later.”
“Okay, Sam. Thanks.” Fenton Hardy stepped out from behind his desk.
Frank cleared his throat. “So...Dad, what’s up? Is it that case Joe said you’d been called in on?”
Fenton motioned for Frank to take the other chair that faced his desk. The older Hardy sat down behind the desk, rested his elbows on the desk and fiddled with a pencil. Finally he looked over at his sons. “Bernard Thorne is alive.”
Joe gave a start. “What?”
Frank frowned. “How?” he asked, remembering Lilith Raven mentioning the man last night.
“Well, Sam has a good friend in Interpol – Sean Brogan. Apparently, in the process of ‘cleaning up’, Agent Willoughby discovered Thorne wasn’t dead. Her plan was to keep him – I believe the phrase these days is ‘on ice’ indefinitely, to find out everything he was into and up to. But Thorne escaped once he was better and hid out, with the help of another daughter, Amethyst.”
Joe was surprised. “He has another daughter?”
“Amethyst Thorne apparently attends a posh boarding school. She has a different mother than Missy who’s the older of the two,” answered Fenton.
Frank sat there a moment, thinking. “So Bernard Thorne hired the sniper....”
Fenton looked over at him. “What? How do you know that?”
Joe would have kicked his brother but Frank was just beyond the reach of his foot. He cleared his throat and turned to his father. “We can explain....”
Fenton sat back in his chair. “Explain what?”
Frank and Joe shared a look and then began to explain everything, from the bizarre nightmares, the discordant memories about what had really happened in Barbados and a toned-down version of what had occurred the night before.
Fenton stared at his sons. “But that....” He broke off, looking dazed. After a moment, he took a deep breath. “I...remember...” Suddenly, his expression hardened. “Bernard Thorne hired the sniper?”
Frank nodded. “That’s what she said.”
Fenton arched an eyebrow. “She?”
“Lilith Raven. She boasted about having a perfect reputation. But she didn’t want to mess with children, so she contracted the hit out.”
Fenton gave an absent nod as he turned to Joe. “You said...how is that possible? The explosion sending you—” He shook his head. “Time travel is impossible. Unless it’s a sci-fi movie.”
Joe swallowed hard. “I was in the past, Dad. In 1725...” Now that he’d started, Joe told his father everything he remembered from his adventure in the past. About halfway through Joe’s tale, Fenton got restless; he went to a bookshelf and pulled an old leather-bound book off a top shelf. He set it down on his desk and started leafing through it, motioning for Joe to continue.
Joe sighed. “And Duncan explained most of it. Seems there was...more detail in that journal than he led us to believe.”
Fenton gave Joe a sharp look and then looked back at the book. He shifted the book around and slid it toward Joe. “Look at that.”
Joe squinted at the tiny cramped writing. “What is it?”
“A genealogy. You mentioned Will Turner, Joe. William Turner is an ancestor. His wife was named Elizabeth. They had one son William Jack Turner. Jack Turner had three children and they all had children. In 1821, a Faith Turner married a Michael Hardy...” Fenton let his voice trail off as he looked at both of his sons.
Joe’s eyes went wide as he looked over at his father and then Frank. “No way...” he whispered. “Wow.”
Frank frowned, unsettled. “But Will was a pirate.”
“I don’t know about that. Sadly, after the birth of their son, not much is mentioned again about Will Turner.” Fenton shrugged. “There’s a story that is said to come from Elizabeth’s hand about a young captain who had a gentle soul and a fiery temper. When you said the young captain’s name, it struck a chord but I never imagined...”
Joe sat back in his chair. “Wow. So it was all connected.”
Frank shook his head. “Unbelievable.”
Fenton sighed and closed the book. “I’ve already contacted Kingsley to let him know about Bernard Thorne being alive. I don’t think Thorne would be stupid enough to try anything but you never know. Especially now that I know about this contract. What about the shooter this woman contracted?”
Frank and Joe shared a look. “It’s okay, Dad, he’s gone. A guy named Duncan MacLeod helped us out.”
Fenton, if at all possible, looked even more stunned. “Duncan? He was here? My goodness, he must be pushing seventy, at least.”
Frank shook his head. “He looks around forty.”
Fenton sighed. “I guess it’s a different person then. Duncan MacLeod helped me and Sam Peterson on a case quite a few years ago. I told you some of it.”
“Oh, the decapitation case,” said Joe. “Um, maybe this is his son?”
“Could be. I don’t know if the elder Duncan ever married, but I’d imagine he did. Where’s he staying?”
“He left last night, Dad, had to go back to Paris,” answered Frank.
Fenton stood up. “Well, then maybe we’ll meet another time. I just wanted to let you boys know about Thorne. Why don’t you go enjoy your day...?” He studied his sons for a moment. “Do I even want to know why your pajama tops are wet?”
Joe jumped to his feet and laughed. “Probably not, Dad. I got dibs on the shower.”
Frank watched his brother go and grinned at his Dad. “It’s good to be home.”
“I agree, Frank. It is definitely good to be home.” Fenton said, smiling. His family was once again together and safe.
The End
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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.