Fenton Hardy checked his watch for the eleventh time in the last twenty minutes. Dark had come an hour ago and there was no sign of Frank and Joe. The unsettled feeling he’d had all evening, since seeing Frank pacing actually, was becoming increasingly harder to ignore.  

Laura felt her husband’s unsettledness, and found herself glad indeed that the Andersons were so tired and ready to head for bed. The couples bid each other good night and retired to their respective floors. Laura went straight to the door of her sons’ room and knocked loudly. When there was no answer, Fenton used the extra key to open it.  

The room was exactly as they had left it three hours ago. Fenton had escorted Matt to the embassy at Congressman Walker’s request and the room was now empty. Laura left a note on Frank’s pillow and the two moved across the hall to their own room.  

Fenton lifted his cell phone from its charging cradle and dialed Frank’s. Laura sat down on left hand double bed, waiting anxiously.  

“Hello?”  

“Frank, where are you?” Fenton asked, his voice a mix of anger and worry.  

“I don’t know,” was the whispered reply.  

Fenton heard the fear in his son’s voice and he sat down, dreading what Frank would say next. “What happened?”  

“Stefan.” Frank was still whispering. “Joe’s still at the cemetery, he’s tied up in a shed. He took me west of the city somewhere.”  

“Alright, Frank. Just stay calm, okay? We’ll get you, I promise.” Normally Fenton would not have felt the need to remind Frank to stay calm. Having witnessed what memories of Stefan could do to Frank, Fenton could only imagine what actually seeing him was doing to the young man’s state of mind.  

“Please hurry, Dad! He’s scaring me.”  

“What cemetery, Frank?”  

“Vagankov, the shed is on the south side. I’m in a mansion, Dad. This place is huge and-“  

“Frank?” Fenton heard a door slamming against the wall and a very angry voice shouting at Frank in Russian. Then the line went dead.  

“Fenton, what’s wrong?” Laura asked, gripping her husband’s left arm with both hands.  

“Stefan has Frank,” he whispered.  

Laura gasped. Putting their arms around each other, the couple sat there, seeking comfort in the physical contact.  

“Joe’s still at the cemetery,” Fenton told her as he pulled back from the embrace. “I have to go get him.”  

Laura just nodded and after kissing him soundly she let him go.  

 

Fenton rushed to the cemetery as fast as he could. Joe wasn’t afraid of the dark or cemeteries, but there was no telling what that bastard might have done to him.  

Once inside the gates, Fenton turned to the right, heading south as Frank had told him to. His powerful yet compact flashlight illuminated a rundown shed within minutes.  

Making a quick circuit of the building, he looked through the only window and saw Joe’s familiar blond head. Going back to the door, he knelt in front of it and had the padlock off in a matter of seconds. He noted that it was brand new, not a speck of rust on it.  

Joe squinted and groaned as the flashlight lit up his face. Chloroform seemed to take great delight in inflicting migraine headaches on him, and his head was threatening to explode. The bright light of the flashlight disappeared and was replaced with the dull glow of a dusty overhead bulb.  

Fenton knelt behind his son and quickly sliced through the tape and rope that bound his wrists. Then he sliced the rope around Joe’s neck and pulled it away from his chest. Joe pulled the tape from his mouth. “Frank?”  

“Stefan has him.” Fenton turned the light off, to Joe’s great relief, and then helped him stand.  

“I’ll kill him.” Joe’s voice was deceptively quiet. Yet Fenton could hear the dangerous undercurrent of rage.  

“We have to find him first.”  

Fenton hailed a cab and they rode back to the hotel in silence, each worried for Frank’s safety. Just what kind of man had Stefan grown into? If the fear Fenton heard in Frank’s voice had been any indication, it wasn’t good.  

***  

Stefan threw the cell phone against the wall and Frank watched in silence as his last link to home shattered. Thank goodness for insurance, he thought dryly. That was one thing Laura had been insistent on whenever they renewed their family cellular plan.  

“You will not lie to me again, Semyon.”  

“And all you’ve done is make my dad mad!” Frank spat out. “He will hunt you down, Stefan. No one can hide from him.” He saw Stefan raise his hand, but he wasn’t quite quick enough to dodge the blow. The coppery taste of blood filled his mouth.  

“You have made me angry, Semyon. You have quite a few lessons to learn before I can do anything with you.”  

Frank felt his blood run cold as Stefan struck him again, this time leaving him dazed with ringing ears. Stefan shoved him down onto the bed face first, then cuffed his hands to the headboard and tied him to the bed, using the handles on the side of the mattress to anchor the rope. Hearing the click of a lighter, Frank tried to prepare himself for the pain that was sure to follow at any minute.  

Stefan waited several minutes before he actually inflicted the first of many burns. Watching Semyon squirm was almost as much fun as hurting him!  

***  

Laura ushered Joe into the shower as soon as he stepped in the door. Not only was he covered with dirt and dust, he was chilled. Moscow nights were chilly, even in May. A hot shower would also help to chase his headache away. She ordered him some soup and a sandwich from room service and then moved Joe’s clothes into their room. Fenton paced the floor, thinking.  

Ten years ago he had decided to track down all the information he could on Frank’s biological father. What he’d found had been rather disturbing. He’d shared some of it with Laura, and now it was time to tell Joe.  

He’d discovered that when the KGB folded, Yuri Gregov had used his many contacts, developed over fifteen years as a KGB agent, to enter the black market and organized crime. He’d amassed a small fortune in only a few years and happened to have his hands in everything from gun running to drugs. His first financial windfall co-incided with the death of Frank’s mother. And then three years ago he had simply disappeared. Some thought he’d been murdered, some thought he’d committed suicide, and others thought he’d just had enough of life and disappeared to some quiet place.  

Joe listened without saying a word, too overcome with a growing sense of dread. Frank was in big trouble! Especially if Stefan had made contact with Yuri and entered his organization.  

“What next?” he asked when Fenton had finished speaking.  

“Find out what Stefan has been up to in the last fifteen years.”

 

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.