INT. SMALL HOTEL ROOM – RIVER HEIGHTS – NIGHT

"Frank Hardy, are you peeking?" Nancy Drew accused.

"No!" Frank denied, but he felt his face flush. "How much longer do I have to hold my arm up like this?"

"Just a little longer," She smiled.

Frank sat with his eyes closed and his arm held parallel to the floor.

Here they were, the two of them. For once not on a case. She had asked him to come. Insisted.

"What did you want to talk about anyway? Another case?"

"Not exactly." She wrapped a bracelet around his wrist and fastened it. "You can open your eyes now."

Frank opened his eyes and looked at the bracelet. It was tightly woven blue ribbon; it looked handmade.

"Did you make this?"

"Yeah, well mostly. Bess and George helped. See Bess learned about these bracelets you can weave to give someone good energy and protect them and, well, I thought of you."

"Oh," Frank wasn't sure how he felt about this. His heart was beating faster. "I didn't think you believed in that kind of stuff."

"Well I don't, not really," Nancy said quickly, defensively. "So I had George help me make it a little more practical."

Frank waited.

Nancy took his hand and unfastened the bracelet. Then she twisted the left clasp backwards and slipped it over the ribbon revealing a lock pick had been embedded inside.

Frank gave a nod of approval. "I could see where this would be useful in our line of work. Is that why you made one for me and not Ned?"

He and Callie had been having problems. Were Ned and Nancy fighting too?

"It has nothing to do with Ned, we're fine." It was like she had read his mind. "Do you want it or not?"

"Of course I do." He snagged it back from her. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." After a second of silence, she added, "I'm glad you like it."

Frank! A loud voice exploded in his ear, followed by a sharp pain in his shoulder.

I/E. RENTAL CAR – KANSAS CITY – SUNSET– ONE MONTH LATER

"Frank!" Joe hissed again, Frank expressed an 'Ow,' but Joe talked right over him. "Stop daydreaming about Callie and her new man while feeling sorry for yourself. It's a little depressing."

"I wasn't daydreaming abou-"

"Plus, we have more important things to worry about. Like the van that's been tailing us since we left the airport."

"What? But we just got here."

"Exactly my point."

Frank fingered his bracelet; he hadn't taken it off. "How close are we to the local?"

"A couple blocks?"

"And you haven't been able to lose them?" Frank didn't bother to hide the amusement in his tone.

Joe pressed on the gas.

"Shut up, they obviously know the area better than I do."

"Uh huh," Frank didn't sound convinced of the reason. He looked around at the busy sidewalks and open businesses that lined the streets. "Let's lose them in the crowd."

"Sure. If I can manage to find somewhere to park."

It was the first Friday in May and Kansas City night life was buzzing. The Crossroads were packed. Finally, Joe found a single spot near the Kauffman Center. The van was forced to pass, but not before letting two passengers out.

"Run!" Joe and Frank split up. It would be easier to lose them if they were two targets instead of one.

Frank ran down Broadway Boulevard and jumped into a line standing outside Los Tules. Two girls stood in line in front of him.

"How's the food here?" He asked them, keeping an eye out for his pursuer.

They turned to look at him. "Well the line should give you a pretty good clue," The one with a long blond fishtail braid and pumps said. "Either slow service or great food."

"Aw, come on, Quinn." The second girl smiled. She had straight brown hair. Her heels didn't do much for her height.

"What? A little mystery can't hurt," Quinn winked at Frank.

"I suppose not," He grinned.

"The salsa's great. Maybe not as good as Manny's, but," The second girl nodded towards her friend, "She thinks she practically lives there."

"I do."

His pursuer reached the line. He looked through the crowd.

"Manny's," Frank repeated. "That's actually where I'm headed."

"Then why are you here?" Quinn questioned him.

The pursuer failed to spot Frank and continued down the road.

"Well, honestly, I saw you two beautiful ladies and had to say hi," he excused the lie.

"Aw, that's sweet," The short girl ate it up. "You want to eat with us?"

"I would. But I have to meet my brother."

"Oh." The disappointment was clear.

The line shifted forward.

"Well, I guess I ought to get going. Don't want to be later than I already am."

Frank ran off in the direction he had come.

"You're running the wrong way!" Quinn's voice yelled after him.

EXT. DEAD END ALLEY – KANSAS CITY – BASICALLY NIGHT NOW

As soon as Joe turned the corner into the alleyway he knew he had made a mistake. He was a little directionally challenged, but never this bad. He decided he didn't like this border town or his pursuer or the van that conveniently blocked them in and let two more men that could have been fullbacks for the NFL out its back doors. No, he didn't like Kansas City at all.

"I'm sorry if I cut you off," Joe started, buying time. "See, I'm not really from around here, and I-"

"Save it," The original pursuer sneered. He pulled out an automatic rifle with a silencer.

"Wow," Joe raised his hands as if surrendering. "No need to escalate things. I don't want any trouble."

"Shut up," The gunman growled.

Joe bit his lip.

"Turn around."

Joe looked defiant. He glanced around for a chance to escape. The brick wall behind him was 12 feet tall. A locked door to his left, he already tried to get into. A fire escape he couldn't reach. Next to the fire escape, even higher, was a metal deck. Potted plants lined it's rim. On the ground was a dumpster with wheels and a stack of crates. Both too far away.

"Turn around!"

"Alright, alright," Joe sounded more inconvenienced than frightened. Very slowly he turned around, praying for a miracle or at least a bullet proof vest. He closed his eyes and waited for the sound of a gun.

Instead, he heard the sound of tires squealing and the van rampaging down the tight squeeze of the alley. Joe turned around in time to see the two full backs jump out the way.

Frank was driving the van!

The gunman held his ground. He calmly fired at Frank. The windshield cracked and the bullet whizzed past Frank's head and buried itself into the seat behind him.

The gunman fired four more rounds, this time at the tires and the engine. The van came to a crashing halt just a few feet in front of the gun man. The gunman didn't even flinch. Even Frank had to give him credit for that.

"Get out of the van," He growled.

Then, suddenly, the gunman turned just in time to see Joe pushing the dumpster right into him. The hit was solid and the gun skittered away.

The victory was short lived, because the two fullbacks were ripping Frank out of the driver's seat in a similar, but harsher way than Frank did to the previous driver.

"Frank!" Joe yelled and ran to the rescue. Fullback One had Frank's arms and legs spread and was holding him still as Fullback Two delivered a nasty punch.

Joe jumped on Fullback Two's back and held him in a headlock. Simultaneously, Frank threw his head back into Fullback One's jaw startling his opponent just enough to wiggle free.

Joe released all the air in his lungs just before Fullback Two slammed Joe into the center of a brick wall and fullback sandwich. Joe's grip around the Fullback's neck didn't budge, if anything it tightened. Fullback Two tried again, slamming Joe even harder. This time as Joe collided with the wall, he saw the fire escape had been dropped, and a girl with a long blond braid jumped the last few feet to the ground from it.

Frank landed a pretty good punch, and was about to block the return when he saw Quinn running towards them. He was about to yell at her to get help, when he doubled over from a sucker punch.

Quinn ran towards the gunman who had started coming to and had spotted his gun. As the gunman rose, Quinn delivered a solid pump to the man's throat and he was down again. She pulled a disposable medical glove out of her pocket and slid it on. She carefully picked up the gun and pointed.

Frank, Joe, and the two fullbacks froze.

"Quinn?" Frank questioned.

Joe looked at Frank funny. He knew her?

"Okay, this is how it's going to be," Quinn said ignoring Frank and holding the gun steady. She pointed it at Frank, "Pretty Boy and," She shifted the gun towards Joe still on the Fullback's back, "Monkey Boy are coming with me. And you two NFL wannabe's," The gun settled on Fullback Joe held, "are going to spread your hands on that trashed van of yours while we get out of here."

The fullbacks looked defiant. Frank took a test step forward. The fullbacks didn't try to stop him. That was enough to convince Joe to jump off Fullback Two's back and get behind this girl.

Soon the scene was just as Quinn persisted. The two fullbacks had their hands spread across the van and Frank and Joe were starting up the fire escape. Satisfied with herself, Quinn hurled the gun over the tall wall at the back of the alleyway that had trapped Joe in the first place.

With the gun out of the picture, the two fullbacks raced towards them. Frank and Joe were climbing onto the small metal deck so they could pull the fire escape up to stop the renewed pursuit. Quinn scurried up, but not before Fullback had a hand wrapped around her the end of her braid and yanked.

Quinn gasped as the blond hair ripped away from her head, revealing an auburn pixie cut underneath. Quinn jumped from the fire escape to the deck as a stunned Joe pulled the fire escape up, while a stunned Frank helped her over the porch knocking a couple of the planted pots over, and while a stunned Fullback Two held a blond wig in his hand, and a stunned Fullback One was hit in the head by one the falling pots and passed out.

As Quinn was the only one not stunned, she quipped "Come on," And got back on the fire escape and started towards the roof, where she had come down from originally.

The two confused Hardy Boys glanced at each other then followed suit.

INT. STAIRWAY – KANSAS CITY – NIGHT

The group had just made it to the roof when the cops arrived and took the driver, the fullbacks, and the gunman away in the back of their cars. Some Kansas City native enjoying their First Friday must have seen the fight and being a good Samaritan contacted the police.

On the way down the stairs, the recent events finally clicked in Joe's brain. "Why did you throw away the gun? We could have checked it for fingerprints and found out who those goons were."

"What are you guys, cops?" Quinn retorted, when she didn't get an answer she continued. "Look, I didn't think we needed the leverage anymore. If you want to go back and look for the gun, by all means, go." She ushered a hand back up the stairs.

Joe looked like he was about to do just that when Quinn kept talking.

"Maybe you can talk to the cops and explain to them why the goons were after you. Or you might even run into another goon looking for the gun too." She smirked. "Me? I'm getting out of here."

"Quinn," Frank said like he was trying to figure if that was even her real name. "Do you always carry rubber gloves around?"

She looked down at the glove she was wearing and lied. "I'm a little OCD."

The Hardy Boys knew it was a lie and suddenly were blocking her way down the stairs. They wanted some answers.

"Okay," She relented. "I just don't always like leaving my identity around. Is that a problem?"

"Only if you're some kind of criminal or something," Joe got straight to the point.

She laughed. "If I was a criminal, it would be pretty selfless of me to run after your friend here who was clearly running the wrong way to Manny's, watch him pull some man out of a van, see a fight, know that the alley was a dead end, go into the building, climb the stairs and get onto the roof in these shoes, let down the fire escape, and rescue you two ungrateful boys." By the end she sounded frustrated. "Now, get out of my way." She practically shoved them aside and marched down the rest of the stairs and out the door.

After a moment or two in silence, Joe turned to his brother. "Well, Frank, where did you drag this one out from?"

Author Note: My writing style is loosely based on script writing format. Specifically in the titles. Some reviewers have wondered what INT. EXT. & I/E means. INT. for Interior scene. EXT. for Exterior scene. I/E. means the filmmaker would have to be prepared to shoot for both interior and exterior settings. Maybe when I'm all finished writing this I'll convert it completely to script and film it!