Hi, people. I hope you like my story. It's written in first person for most of it, because I like it best, even though most of the Nancy Drew stories are written in third. But anyways, if anyone sees any mistakes or anything, please tell me. I have to warn you, I'm not the fastest updater. I go in spurts, I update 3 chapter in one day, then I go like two weeks without updating. So sorry, anyone who's reading this. Oh, and please review!!! Please?

Revenge

by JamieLynn Black

I was lost in thought. Deep, deep in thought. What I was about to do was… dangerous. Crazy. Insane. This was probably the most dangerous thing I've ever done. But I loved it. Life would be boring, terribly boring without it. Unfortunately, not everyone seemed to agree with me.

No problem, I just wouldn't tell anyone.

Just then, Michael, my sort of partner walked through my door without knocking - as usual.

"What's up, Sherlock?" he asked playfully, throwing a pillow at my head. I quickly stopped it, out of reflex, even though I barely had time to see it come my way. "Hey! No fair, that's cheating!" Michael accused.

"Tough luck, man. That's what comes from years of training and experience," I said, feigning cockiness, and threw the pillow back at him. He easily caught it, too. Dang.

"Hey! No fair, you were expecting it!"

Michael held the pillow above his head, ready to strike. "Now are you going to tell me what you're planning, or am I gonna have to start a war?" he said, only half serious.

Jeez, trust Michael to know I'm planning something covertly.

"Now why couldn't I be just thinking something normal?"

"Well, because A: you're not normal. B: you're also a PI. And C: you're also Nancy Drew. Those are three prime ingredients for trouble. Now spill your guts, before I call a certain someone about another certain someone about the aforesaid someone burning down a certain school."

Oh. My. God. Guilt coursed through my body. How on earth did that boy find out about that?

"I hear there's still a reward… "

"Oh, jeez, fine! Be that way! But know this, McCarthy, I was on a case, and it was not my fault! And I would have gone to the police with my info, but I was in Keystone County, and Chief Nichols hates my guts!" I confessed, "Okay, here it goes. But you will not repeat any of this to anyone, you understand?" after receiving rolled eyes and a nod, I continued, "There's this case I'm on. A string of murders, that may possibly be connected. These people - 10 upwards to 25, maybe more - went missing and were found brutally murdered. These people are scattered all across the East Coast and central states. But see, these people weren't ordinary people. They were buff guys, all capable of handling themselves - " but I was cut off.

"Just because they're buff, doesn't mean they're invincible," he reasoned. Ugh, boys.

"I'm getting to that part, just hold your horses. Anyway, I was hired to look into one particular victim by his sister. She thinks someone was after him, but there was no known reason why. Anyway, this guy, Adam Kramer, was a model citizen. But after doing some heavy digging, I found out he was CIA. He apparently was onto something, I just know it. I think it could possibly be Project Iceman. Anyway, after extensive digging, I found at least ten other guys who had been murdered in similar circumstances. I think they could all be CIA." I said, very excited.

"And what way exactly were they murdered? What's the MO? And how do you know they were CIA?" Michael asked. I was impressed. Before he met me, he was practically clueless about everything concerning cases. Of course, he was only 21. Wow, I thought, he's only 24 now. That's only three years ago. And I'm 25 now. Wow, I'm getting old. Old in a good way.

"Well, I happen to have a contact with them who's very trustworthy. And the coroner said that the guys died in a violent struggle. But no clue whatsoever."

"Don't get me wrong, you have great instincts, but what would a police say? No hard evidence, no case. At least, nothing to tie them together." Michael said.

"Yeah, you're right. And I'm gonna get the stuff I need tonight. Right here in Bar Harbor," I finished.

"Wait, right here? In Bar Harbor? You sure?" Michael questioned.

"Bar Harbor is a tourist trap, right where you wouldn't expect something fishy, right?" I countered.

"But are you sure? How can you be sure? When not even the CIA doesn't know about it?"

"Well, I am almost positive it is here. And if it isn't, then I'm walking into a trap, but I don't think he's lying. So, yes, I am sure. And my source happens to be one of them. His name is Jeff King, or at least, that's what he told me. And maybe the CIA does know about it, who knows. Maybe they're investigating it. I mean, if they're own men are going missing like that, all in the past month, they should be suspicious," then I remembered something, "Oh, shoot! I'm supposed to call Jeff soon for last minute directions!"

"Wait a minute!" he sounded kinda angry now, "You were going to go to this mafia headquarters alone? Are you crazy!" he was yelling now. Great. "This could be a trap! Or if it's not a trap, then they're good enough to catch you, and you could be hurt! Worse than hurt!" it looked like he was realizing what he was saying, and then groaned, "You are not going alone. You will have at least me, if not the whole freakin' police department to back you up! Jeez, sometimes I think you got hit in the head too much," he complained.

"Easy, McCarthy," I commanded, "The reason you're not going with me is because it's too dangerous. And the reason why the police aren't gonna know about this is because Jeff made me promise not to involve cops until he's out of the country. And also, the group is too smart, they would notice a steak-out. No, I have to go alone," so I was stubborn, that's nothing new.

"Like hell you are! I'll call your dad, my mom, Ned, Bess, George, Frank, and Joe or anyone else I can find, to convince you that you can't go in there alone!" Michael threatened.

"That's not fair! You know those people are biased, and would have - have clouded minds about the whole case!"

"Then let me go with you! I swear, if you don't, I will call them, and I will follow you." Crap. Why can't he ever listen?

"Fine, you win, but if you get hurt, I'll kill you!" sometimes my logic even astounds me.

"Sounds fair to me," he said with a wide grin, displaying his million-dollar smile, "Let's go catch some bad guys!"

Little did Nancy know, Michael would someone, just in case something did happen to them. But the problem was, he didn't know who. Nancy's dad, and his mom would never let them do it, so they were out. He didn't have George's phone number, not could he ask without sounding guilty, nor could he search her room for it. So it had to be Bess, Frank, Joe, or Ned. It had been five years since Nancy talked to either of the Hardy's, but from the way Nancy spoke about them, particularly Frank, that Nancy had tremendous respect for them and they were, at one point, really good friends. He picked someone to call. Michael dialed, and waited. One, two, three, four, five rings. The answering machine came on. He left a message. He hung up, and dialed again. One, two, three, four rings. Answering machine. He left another message. Just in case.