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Jason Fox kept up his easy-going facade despite grinding his cigar between clenched teeth as he headed for his hotel room door. It opened before he could reach it, and Fenton Hardy stepped into the room. His dark expression promised retribution for his actions during the case.

Fox froze for half a second before spinning around and grabbing for the nearest person. Joe Hardy let out a startled grunt as his arm was seized and he was pulled against Fox’s body.

Fox wrapped one arm around Joe’s arms tightly, his other hand bringing up a small caliber handgun he’d had secreted away. He pressed the barrel of the gun against Joe’s temple and backed away, turning to keep Joe between him and the rest of the room.

“Joe!” Frank reached for his brother, but Fenton quickly darted in front of him, shielding Frank and Nancy from Fox.

Fenton raised his hands, trying to appear nonthreatening. “Now, Jason, take it easy. No one has to get hurt here. It’s over; let Joe go and come quietly with me.”

“I have a better idea,” Fox replied, still projecting an air of complete control. “Joe and I are going to take a little ride to the airport together. When I’m safely aboard my plane, I’ll give him back to you.”

Fenton risked a step forward, fighting every urge to just grab Joe and tug him to safety. “I’ll ride with you, then. No need to take Joe. He’s just a boy.”

“All the more reason for you to not try anything stupid,” Fox replied. “Step aside, Fenton.” His eyes swept the room, looking at the officers still hovering near the door. “You lot, too. Move to the window.”

The officers glanced at Fenton but obeyed, trying to collect Frank and Nancy along the way. Nancy moved with them to the window, but Frank refused to budge. His eyes burned with anger at Fox.

“I’m not letting you leave here with my brother,” he stated firmly.

“As long as everyone does as they’re told, your brother will be just fine,” Fox assured Frank. He slowly began to shuffle Joe towards the door, careful to keep the trembling teen between him and the rest of the room’s occupants.

“F-Frank?” Joe stammered. “Dad?”

Frank tried again to move to his brother’s aid, but Fenton’s arm swung out, stopping him.

“Obey your father, Frank,” Fox advised, backing up. “He knows I’m not a man to trifle with.”

“Last chance, Jason,” Fenton warned. “Let my boy go and no one gets hurt.”

“I’ll see you around, Fenton,” Fox replied, crossing the threshold into the hall.

A hand suddenly appeared over Fox’s shoulder, grabbing his gun and wrenching it skyward. Fenton darted forward, grabbing Joe just as he was released and wrapping him in a tight hug. Joe clung to his father as Fenton dragged him back into the room. His body shook as he buried his face in Fenton’s neck.

Arlo Weatherly twisted Fox’s hand until the gun slipped through nerveless fingers. With his other hand, Weatherly delivered a powerful uppercut to Fox’s jaw, sending the man flying back onto the ground, out cold.

The officers rushed into the hall, moving to secure Fox. Weatherly stepped around them and entered the room, taking in the rest of the occupants. “Everyone okay?”

Fenton gently cupped the back of Joe’s head, then turned to Frank. The two worked together to transfer Joe from his father’s arms to his brother’s. Joe went willingly once he registered Frank’s presence and latched tightly onto his brother.

Fenton approached Weatherly and grasped the man’s arm. “Thank you,” he said, his voice heavy with emotion.

Weatherly patted Fenton on the shoulder, an understanding look on his face. “I’ll help the officers corral Fox and meet up with you later. Why don’t you get those kids something to eat? I bet they’re hungry.”

Fenton glanced at his sons. They had pulled back from the hug but Joe was still huddled under one of Frank’s arms. The two boys were speaking with Nancy in hushed tones, likely assessing Joe’s health if the concern on the older teenagers’ faces was anything to go by.

He turned back to Weatherly. “I think I’ll do just that. Come by when you’re done; I’m sure Frank and Joe will want to thank you themselves.”

Weatherly grinned and tipped his hat in acknowledgment, then left.

Fenton turned back to the three teens. Joining them, he gave in to the urge to wrap an arm around his youngest.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m looking forward to enjoying this conference without any more distractions,” he stated.

Three smiles met his remark.

END