Frank fought with every ounce of strength he had left. Having been so sick, it wasn’t much. Stefan was standing in the corner, his face expressionless save for a small smile.  

“You can’t make me forget!” Frank shouted.  

Stefan said nothing as Vladimir and Andrei tied Frank to the chair in the center of the small room. His ankles were tied to the legs, his wrists to the arms of the chair. Frank hung his head, exhausted from the struggle as he realized Stefan had won. Again.  

He sat quietly for several minutes, refusing to give Stefan the pleasure of seeing how upset he truly was. His gaze drifted around the sparsely furnished room. No windows, only one door. A small desk, 2 chairs besides the one he was tied to. Rock walls, rock floor.  

Andrei left the room, but Stefan stayed, taking a seat in one of the other chairs. Presently they were joined by another man. He was of average build, slightly bald, glasses. A lot like the Gray Man, Frank thought suddenly. Nondescript.  

The young man’s blood went cold. In Russia , “nondescript” like this usually meant KGB. Even though the KGB no longer existed, officially, its influence still reached into every corner of military and law enforcement training.  

“Semyon, meet Dr. Kambarov.” Stefan motioned to the man who had just entered the room. “The good doctor was, of course, trained by the KGB in memory altering techniques.”  

“You can’t make me forget,” Frank repeated, softer this time as true fear invaded his thoughts.  

Kambarov said nothing as he set his little black bag on the desk. He opened it, removed a small vial and a syringe. The syringe he filled with the liquid from the vial, and then injected into Frank’s left arm.  

Within minutes, Frank could feel his mind fogging, his world reduced to that room and those two people. Kambarov placed one of the chairs directly in front of Frank and sat down in it, leaning forward to stare into Frank’s eyes.  

The man’s eyes were cold, lifeless. They reminded Frank of the one time he’d seen a dead body with the eyes still open. Eery and something that becomes imprinted on the brain, popping up at the strangest moments.  

He began to speak in a mixture of Russian and English. Frank could hear the words, but at the same time they didn’t register with his consciousness. They were winding their way deep into his mind, open to any suggestion because of the drugs now running through his system.  

Home…have to remember home… Frank told himself, repeating it like a mantra over and over and over.  

As Kambarov continued to speak, he slowly phased out the English until he was using only Russian.  

***  

Mesmerized. That was how Frank felt as he relaxed, taking in the words coming from Kambarov. Words weaving a story that he knew wasn’t true, but at the same time he couldn’t help but believe it. A story about life after Mama’s death, in an orphanage and how no one wanted him and he stayed there for years.  

No! Frank thought. That’s not true! He wanted to shout it at the man, at Stefan. The words wouldn’t come and Kambarov’s voice continued to fill his ears.  

***  

These little “sessions” with Kambarov in the stone room continued for many days, maybe even weeks for all Frank knew. Day in and day out he was taken from his bed just before lights out, robbing him of precious sleep and increasing his exhaustion. Fenton, Laura, Aunt Gertrude, Bayport. All slowly receded from his memory. His car, Jack’s planes, the house on the corner of High and Elm. Even Joe and Callie became distant faces with no names, no personalities.  

Frank Hardy slowly began to fade away until only Semyon Gregov was left. A very scared and confused Semyon.  

Stefan watched everything silently, relishing in his revenge. If I can’t have a home and family, neither can he.

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.