Project: Hardy - Code Red

Chapter One: American Teens Against Cats

Joe Hardy

"ACHOO!"

My brother, Frank, handed me a bottle of allergy medicine, "are you sure you shouldn't stay at Chet's house while mom's cat-sitting? It'll only be another couple days, I'm sure Chet wouldn't mind."

I shook my head and tossed a couple of the chalky tablets into my mouth, trying to ignore their bitter taste, "if I go, who'll keep Playback from getting eaten by that fur-bomb of an ani-- ACHOO!"

Frank shook his head, "you're going. Aunt Gertrude will keep an eye on Playback, that parrot is like her child."

I started to protest, but the only thing that came out was another sneeze. Stupid cat allergy.

Frank grabbed the tissue box from the coffee table and handed it to me. I reluctantly took it and got to my feet. "Fine, fine, I'll go call Chet. At least it's already Summer, bringing homework would be a drag."

I headed up the stairs to mine and Frank's shared room, which was the only cat-free place in the house, and also the current residence of our family's pet parrot, Playback.

"Hey, Playback," I said, closing the door behind me.

The emerald green bird flew onto my shoulder, mimicking the sound of me sneezing.

"Oh, so you heard that, huh? Well geez, no need to rub it in."

Playback squawked and flew back to his perch, next to Frank's computer, and I walked over to the window while dialing Chet's number on my cell phone.

My finger was hovering above the 'call' button, when something hit the window beside me, making me jump.

"What the--?!"

I looked out the window. A familiar teenager was standing outside, holding a package and a handful of pebbles. I opened the window, "Vijay? What are you--"

"Shh!" He hissed, looking around before tossing the package into the air. I reached out and caught it.
I turned the package over in my hands and my eyes widened. A blue and yellow logo with the letters A.T.A.C. in the middle was on the underside.

I leaned out the window again and gave him a thumbs up. Vijay grinned and ran off down the sidewalk.

I closed the window and set the package down on Frank's desk. Calling Chet would have to wait- Frank and I had a mission!

...Oh wait. I should probably explain that.

See, Frank and I are agents for ATAC, American Teens Against Crime, an organisation founded by our father, famous investigator, Fenton Hardy. ATAC's purpose is simple: sending gifted teens trained in handling criminal activity into situations where adult PIs would stick out like sore thumbs, like a rock concert or youth center.

Vijay, a good friend of mine and Frank's, was one of the members. He wasn't yet fully trained, like me and my brother were, so until then, he worked in intel, which included delivering missions to agents.

I ripped open the package and retrieved a blue and yellow USB stick, leaving the other items alone for now. Then I braved the cat fur-filled air, and ran halfway down the stairs.

"Frank!" I called, "Come he--ACHOO!"

"Joe, if you need more tissues, there are two full boxes in the bathroom upstairs." Frank yelled in response.

"It's not that, Frank, just come over here!"

I heard some footsteps and Frank came into view. I held up the USB and his eyes widened. Next thing, we were both racing up the stairs to our room. The second we got in the door, I let out a whoop, "we can finally get out of this feline infestation of a house!"