Okay so I just realized, am I like the only person who updates a story so often? Should I update less often? I don't know if maybe all of you would appreciate more time between chapters so you can stay more updated and not fall behind or something? Let me know!

Also you're all amazing for reviewing! And reading!

I don't own the Hardy Boys or Nancy Drew. I do own a cat. Then again, can a cat really be owned?

"Chief Potters, what's going on?" Officer Barton glanced at Frank with faint recognition.

"This man would like to speak with you."

"So I figured, but at 3 in the morning?"

"Well, you were already here working on a case, so it's not like I dragged you out of bed," Chief Potters' tone hardened slightly at the resistance. "I'll be outside," he said flatly, leaving the room before Officer Barton could give another word of argument.

"What'd you like to know?" Officer Barton sighed, slumping back in his seat. Suddenly he sat up. "You're that pretty investigator's friend."

Frank bristled slightly at Officer Barton's use of the word pretty. For some reason it bothered him more than he would have expected. "Yes."

"I told her to stay out of that case," Officer Barton murmured. Frank leaned forward, ignoring the pounding pain in his head.

"What do you know about Nicholas Lopez?"

"I don't know who that is." However, Officer Barton's blue eyes slid away from Frank's in the tell tale sign of lying.

"Are you with them?" Frank demanded, feeling his blood begin to boil as he thought about Joe, pale and going into surgery. "Are you?!" he stood up, glaring.

"No! I'm not!" Officer Barton shook his head quickly, holding his hands up in the gesture of innocence. "Okay listen. I've helped Lopez's gang before. But it was only to keep my family safe! You don't know what that man will do to stay in power..."

"I probably know more than you think I do," Frank commented dryly, thinking back to Senator Allen's death and his wrecked car. "I believe you, officer. But we need to put this guy behind bars. He's killed people, my brother is in the hospital because of him, and I think he has my friend." Frank's dark eyes burned into Officer Barton's pale face.

"Alright. I'll give you the address of the gang's base. But one condition..."

"You're in no position to bargaining with me," Frank growled.

"You've got to keep me out of this. If you catch the guy, awesome. I'll come clean and hope that Chief Potters believes I was really doing it to protect my family. But if something goes wrong..." Officer Barton's blue eyes darted away from Frank, as though he were already searching for danger. "Leave me out of it, please."

Frank relaxed slightly. "Alright. Deal."

Nancy drifted back into consciousness and, as a wave of pain assaulted her, wished she hadn't. Dazedly, she opened her eyes. She was still in the same room, same position.

Nicholas was ignoring her, walking around the room with a large jug, pouring something on the floor. The body was still in the same position.

Nancy stifled a moan as she moved slightly. What was Nicholas doing? Nancy closed her eyes for a moment, forcing herself to focus. She opened her eyes and tried to read the label. The smell hit her before the answer.

Gasoline.

Immediately Nancy knew what he was doing. The whole warehouse would go up in flames, covering Nicholas' tracks. Destroying the evidence.

"They'll still connect it with you," Nancy said out loud. Nicholas turned.

"I'll be gone. With all this mess, it'll be easier to cut and run. Maybe buy a mansion and settle down. Maybe I'll start a new gang in another city. The possibilities are endless." Nicholas poured gasoline over a table and desks.

Not good. Nancy tentatively tried moving her arms. The movement sent a jagged pain through her bruised side. Even if she could get out of the chains, she wasn't sure if she could make it more than a couple yards without passing out.

"We all set, Boss?" a man's voice called out.

"Just about." Nicholas emptied the remaining contents of the can of gasoline onto the floor, the splashing sound filling the room. As he pulled out a match, Nancy's heart raced as she struggled not to panic. There was a scraping noise and Nancy could see the small little flame glowing above the puddle of gasoline. She opened her mouth, but Nicholas had already dropped the match. There was a loud hissing noise, and flames shot up, spreading rapidly. In the flickering fire light, Nicholas' face glowed eerily. "Good bye, Nancy Drew. Say hello to the Hardys on the other side for me." With that, he left the room.

Frank left the office clutching a piece of paper tightly in his right hand, his heart pounding. He had kept himself calm, but was beginning to lose it. He better not hurt her.

"Frank!" Chief Potters was striding after him. "Did you find what you needed?"

In response, Frank simply raised the piece of paper.

"Follow me," Chief Potters said.

"I've got this Chief," Frank said stiffly. He didn't quite trust Chief Potters for some reason. Chief Potters turned around, eyebrows raised incredulously.

"Listen. I don't know what's going on, but I know that Nanc is in trouble. I'm coming." Chief Potters' face was dead serious, and Frank felt a stab of jealousy. How did this guy know Nancy so well? Dude, you've been out of touch with Nancy for years. She's going to make friends while you're gone.

"Alright Chief." Frank gave in, sensing that the Chief's intentions were sincere. He got into the man's car, and handed him the address.

"It's Brandon," the officer said, tense face relaxing momentarily into a bright smile.

Suddenly Frank's cell phone began ringing. That is, Nancy's cell phone, which was still in his pocket. Quickly he pulled it out and opened it.

"Nancy, thank goodness!" a woman's voice said with relief as soon as he opened the phone. Frank thought the voice sounded familiar, and he wasn't looking forward to breaking the news.

"Um... George?" he guessed. There was a pause.

"Who are you and what have you done with Nancy!" George's voice was full of venom. Frank winced as he remembered how dangerous George could be, especially when Nancy was in danger.

"George, it's Frank! Frank Hardy," he said quickly.

"Frank?" The anger in George's voice faded slightly. "What's going on? Where's Nancy?"

"I don't know," Frank sighed.

"Who's got her this time?" George's voice was light, as though it was a joke, but Frank could pick out the underlying concern.

"Well, we're not certain. But we think it's a gang leader."

"Great," George's voice was small. "I was going to tell Nan that I was on my way to visit my grandparents, so I could stop by Chicago to see her. Is there any way I could help?" George asked calmly.

"How about we'll meet you at the Chicago Central Hospital. Could you pay Joe a visit there?"

"Oh my gosh, what happened?"

"I'll tell you later, we're almost there."

"Okay, well, be careful and get Nancy out in one piece."

"I'll see you soon, if all goes well. You might want to update Carson..."

"Got it. See you at the hospital."

George hung up. Frank turned the cell phone and tucked it in his pocket.

"We're here," Brandon said. "It's one block from here."

"The warehouse?"

"I think so." Brandon and Frank quickly got out of the car and paused to discuss the best course of action.

Suddenly Frank noticed the smell of smoke. His blood froze. Sprinting around the corner confirmed his worst fears. The warehouse was on fire.

Then he noticed a man running out of the warehouse and into a car. Nicholas Lopez. Frank instantly switched into action mode.

"Brandon! Get the tires!" Frank yelled. There were two gunshots and suddenly the car skidded to a stop, screeching loudly. Nicholas jumped out of the car and took off along the street. Frank froze, his gaze flickering back to the burning warehouse.

Brandon was already sprinting past Frank. "I've got him, go find Nancy!"

Relieved, Frank turned to the huge warehouse door. It was boarded up, but Frank tore the planks off. Smoke billowed out the door. Coughing, Frank stumbled into a huge room. There were flames all over, eating at desks and scattered papers.

His heart froze when he spotted a body lying in the middle of the floor.

"Frank!" The call was weak and hoarse, but it was music to Frank's ears.

"Nancy!" Frank wove through the smoke and flames, ignoring the rising temperature, towards the sound of her voice. "Keep talking! Where are you?"

"I'm here, by this stupid pillar!" Nancy called out. "By the way, I'm really glad you're not dead." Frank skirted around a burning table and nearly stumbled over Nancy. He went straight for the handcuffs, pulling out a lock picking tool. "Did you get Nicholas?" Nancy asked.

"Brandon went after him," Frank grunted, focusing on the handcuffs.

"Joe?"

"He's at the hospital. I'm not sure how he's doing but he was stable when I saw him last."

The clamps swung open after a few tense moments. Frank pulled Nancy up and gasped as he finally got a good look at her.

Her blue shirt was blood stained and torn, holes showing cut and bruised flesh. Frank raised his eyes to Nancy's face, taking in the gash on the side of her face, as well as her bruised jaw, the dark blood staining her strawberry blond hair... Frank's blood began to boil, and it wasn't from the rising temperature in the warehouse. Nancy shot him a steady look.

"Frank, not now. I'm fine. In case you didn't notice though, the warehouse is kind of on fire."

Frank noticed that Nancy was trembling slightly, despite her efforts to hide it. He tightened his grip on her hand and began picking his way through the wreckage. "Tell me if you start feeling faint, okay?" he said loudly over the growing crackling of the flames.

"I'm not the only one recovering from a concussion, Hardy," Nancy shot back, coughing. She stopped for a moment quickly glancing upward. "Frank, let's run," she suggested, and undercurrent of urgency in her voice.

"Nanc..." Frank frowned, not wanting to push her in her current state.

"Frank! Run!" Nancy yelled, grabbing his hand and pulling him forward, ignoring the blinding pain at the movement. Somehow she managed to keep going, her vision blurring.

Above, the ceiling groaned, and suddenly Frank understood Nancy's panic. The building was on its way towards collapsing.

Glancing at Nancy, he saw her eyes beginning to cloud over. Without hesitation, he picked her up and started racing towards the exit. A hot ember fell on his shoulder, and his shirt caught on fire. The pain was agonizing, but Frank forced himself forward. Almost there. Almost... There was a deafening crash as part of the roof collapsed.

Just then, Frank burst out of the door and into the cold night air, almost slamming into Brandon who was on his way in.

"You sure know how to make an exit, Hardy," Brandon grinned with relief.

"Hey Chief," Nancy said faintly as Frank helped her stumble away from the burning building.

"How ya doing, Detective?" Brandon asked gently, quickly taking in her beaten state.

"Tell me if Lopez got away or not, and then I'll tell you."

"He's handcuffed in the car, not going anywhere," Brandon glanced at his car to make sure, and nodded firmly.

"Then I am just swell."

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