Hey, guys :)
so, I'll admit it: I'm a little nervous about posting this! A lot of the stuff on here that I've read is so maturely and intelligently written, and I've never written anything Nancy/Hardy before, so this is kind of a new thing for me. :) go easy on me, please!
I'm still writing this story, but it's pretty much almost done. I wanted to finish it before I posted it just so I wouldn't have to spit out random chapters at you, but I reallreallyreally wanted to see what you guys thought. So, TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK!!
:D
And feel free to ooh and ah in the necessary places. :D
Disclaimer: Do I own my Red Hot Red fingernail polish?
Yerp!
Do I own Nancy Drew/Hardy Boys?
Eh,
....Nope.
The woman pulled off the scarf that had been wrapped around her head and shook her long, reddish-blonde hair. The man beside her, reading a newspaper, smiled appreciatively but she purposefully ignored him. This wasn't the time to deal with sexist men, she reminded herself.
The transport was noisy and crowded, with little breathing room and less air to breath. A flash of silver caught her eye, and she whirled around to see the man she was trailing only three feet away from her, the silver skull chain wrapped around his neck.
Her pulse rate threatened to double, but she controlled it with an intense concentration. This was what she had been trained for. This was what she had chosen. She was a professional. And nothing was going to get in her way. Not this man, not any man.
She carefully edged closer, threading her way through passengers until she stood one person away from the man. His hand came up and for a moment she thought he'd discovered her and was about to draw a gun, but she calmed down when he only paused to touch the chain around his neck.
His fingers slowly moved closer to the skull charm and her anxiety returned. She felt an overwhelming urge of desire. She wanted to rip his hands off the necklace, to protect all the people in the transport from this lethal weapon.
The man's thumb caressed the skull, a look of grim determination on his scarred face and the woman knew what would come next. And it was her job to stop it.
She set her jaw determinedly, scarf grasped firmly in hand, and moved closer to the marred man. The people around her were pushing from all sides and a fusion of the smells of urine and sweat hung in the air. She pushed until she was almost directly behind the man.
A teenager with a McDonald's hat and t-shirt stood listening to her iPod and ignoring everyone around her, right where the woman needed to be.
She tapped the girl on the shoulder and when she looked up, the woman pointed to her right ear, gesturing that she'd lost an earring where the girl was standing. The teenager moved, albeit a little grudgingly, while the woman gave her a quick smile.
You have no idea how many lives you just saved, sweetheart.
The woman knelt down on the floor behind the man, pretending to search the grimy, littered floor as she covertly wound one end of the scarf around her hand and slowly stood up.
A bored-sounding voice rang out through the small car. "Transport B-14 advancing to the Portland stop. Please prepare to reach occupancy limit." The doors slid and people began filing into the already-crowded car. A small breeze blew in from the city outside.
In front of her, she could see the tendons in the man's neck tense. He instinctively put a hand on his pocket, where a disc in plastic casing slightly protruded, the one blind spot of the woman. The pocket was too far left for her to see. The action was lost on her, like he'd hoped for all the passengers.
The woman was now so close to him, she practically felt it when his eyes closed as he started to press down on the charm that would activate a bomb, literally blowing the entire transport to pieces…
But suddenly, the silver chain wasn't the only thing circling his neck. A scarf was pulling tightly across his vocal chords so he couldn't speak. A low, feminine voice sounded in his ear. "Take your hand off the skull."
The man grunted and strained, trying to twist around and put an end to this sudden assault, but the transport car was now too crowded for him to move. The man felt his body weakening, and dropped his hand, not by choice, but from sheer loss of strength.
He tried to grab the gun that was strapped to his chest beneath his jacket, but he didn't have enough energy in him to complete the action. The noises from the transport occupants were getting smaller and quieter. Everything was sort of just fading away slowly. He groped desperately at his pocket, the one spot the woman couldn't see. His clumsy fingers found what he was looking for, and he pulled it out of his pocket and just barely managed to press a button, then it dropped from his fingers to the floor, where a man standing beside him picked it up.
The woman noticed the man beside him bend down, but didn't realize why. She narrowed her eyes. One problem at a time.
The scarf was hitched tighter and dark spots started clouding the man with the skull charm's vision. He just barely felt convulsions rack his body. Everything seemed so far away. But one thing stood out in his disjointed, nearing incomprehensible thoughts. A wave of rage swept through him, searing through all the pain and struggle. A strangled cry broke free from his closing throat.
"Nancy…Drew…"
- Nancy Drew -
_____________________________________________________________________________
Her fingers flew skillfully over the keys. Images and text popped up periodically on the screen, their meaning capturing her interest. Nancy Drew sat back in her office chair, staring at the screen in horrified awe. There had been something she had missed.
The disc.
How could she have not seen the disc? She chided herself harshly. She would have to get it back, to prove herself worthy not only to the agency, but to herself as well. She leaned closer to the screen, studying an image of a plastic-cased square. Her eyes narrowed. She had to get it back. She had to know.
She clicked on more files, more urgently. The entire disc itself was so complex.
The database she had hacked into gave a short summary that they had intercepted from an attempted transmit from the owner and a certain multi-million-grossing incorporation. Several pictures came up when she clicked on a link that said, "Targets."
A man in his late forties with prematurely gray hair; a woman about twenty years old, with a tattoo of a large skull on the side of her neck…
Another picture popped up. This one took her off-guard, leaving her breathless for a moment. It was of two men. One with curly blonde hair, muscular and wiry. The other was taller, a handsome man with dark features. It almost looked like…
Oh, my…
It was.
No, Nancy thought wildly. It couldn't be. They wouldn't be that sloppy. All their pictures had been deleted right after the "accident." There was no way.
And yet…
There they were. The first's face even held his signature amused expression.
And the other…
Gorgeous, handsome, charming as ever. Those dark eyes, that long, lean torso…
Nancy got a strange feeling in the back of her throat.
She knew this man.
This was the man whom she'd fallen in love with, whom she'd considered marriage with, who'd broken her heart when he told her something she'd pretended she couldn't understand but really, deep down, she could. This was the man who had been announced dead to the world. The man who'd disappeared two years ago with his brother into society as deeply undercover agents and had been given the opportunity to tell any one person out of his friends and family and had chosen to tell her. Now, after two years, she didn't know what he looked like, who he was, where he'd disappeared to, why he'd done it…
Tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill over. "Oh, Frank," she whispered. "Where are you?"
Frank Hardy lightly tapped his younger brother on the back. "Joe," he whispered, voice hoarse. He hadn't called his brother that name for what seemed like ages. They had been under fake identities for the past two years. The word felt like candy, sweet and forbidden, but delightfully familiar. "Joe, wake up."
The younger Hardy brother tossed and turned but didn't open his eyes. A glistening sheen of sweat covered his skin and his curly blonde hair was wet and matted with blood. He muttered feverishly as his older brother made futile attempts to recover him.
Finally, Frank fell down beside Joe, collapsing in sheer exhaustion. He didn't have any more to give. There was nothing left inside of him. His resolve, his optimism, it was all fading. It didn't work…He and Joe had lost and…They had won…
No! Frank tried to rein in his dark thoughts that threatened to take over. They wouldn't win! He wouldn't let Them!
But he was so thirsty, so hungry, so aching, his whole body aching…
No! Frank fought to regain consciousness. No…no…no… The word echoed again and again like odious poetry. An endless mantra of torture. No…no…no…
Frank knew he was too far gone to save himself or Joe. He needed some backup. But who did he have? There was no one now.
The agency couldn't come, or they would be discovered. Maybe a year or two before this, before they had disappeared, he would have had more people than he needed who would have readily come and helped. Now there was only one he could think of, and he wasn't even sure she would help him after what had gone down between them.
He somehow convinced his hand to move sluggishly down to his pocket and pull out his cell phone. He pushed in the ten digits, slowly, deliberately. He knew them all by heart. He just hoped they would work.
When the final number had been entered into the tiny device, Frank paused and closed his eyes, praying fervently that it would go through. He glanced at Joe, shaking and violent coughs racking his entire body. It had to work.
He turned over the phone and slowly, but as fast as his body would move, opened the back of the device. There it was. Looked just like it had the day they'd installed it. He pushed the tiny red button, using up his last ounce of strength. Now he just had to hope, pray, wish that she would get it.
A computerized voice recited what they had programmed it to say.
"Sending emergency signal to…Nancy Drew."
Thanks for reading! for that, I give you my love and a handful of Skittles. hehehe.
What did you think? Review, please! :D
much loves!
the one and only ;)
-memrylaine