Author's Note: Sorry guys. Vacations are a lot busier than I remember them being. :P And today's my last day off. La sigh. Oh well, on with life, eh?

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Nancy had gotten home late, but when she tried to go to sleep her mind wouldn't be still. There were too many questions, too many uncertainties. After a while of trying not to think, she gave up and got up again. Grabbing a notepad and pen she made herself comfortable in her living room and started a list. Perhaps if she could get all her thoughts on paper they'd stop tormenting her, but as she wrote out what little she knew, it had the reverse affect.

Biting the end of the pen, Nancy stared at the list. The inmate she saw was Frank. That much she had to believe for any of this to have a purpose. He was in prison under an alias. His record had been blacked out. Someone had faked Frank's death to the point of changing out dental records and other identifiable details. It pointed to some very professional work. But it was a lot of effort just to put someone in prison.

If he hadn't been in isolation Nancy might have believed Frank was there undercover. Still, it was still a nice thought. Undercover for what was the real question, but even as she mused over the idea, she knew it wasn't fathomable. They wouldn't have moved him if he was undercover. They certainly wouldn't have moved him to Guantanamo.

She sat back wondering if he was there now. She'd never been to the prison herself, but she'd seen pictures. Guantanamo Camp was a prison the CIA knew very well. It was one of only a few prisons specifically made to house terrorists held on US soil. Records of the inmates weren't exactly public knowledge, even to Government Officials.

It was hard for her to image Frank in such a place, for any reason.

Leaning her head back she closed her eyes, remembering the moment she'd seen him. He'd looked different than the Frank she knew. The confidence had been lost, along with the warmth he had that seemed to give strength to anyone around him. None of that had been there. But the eyes hadn't changed. His sense of awareness, the intelligence Nancy had come to respect time and time again, it gave him away as sure as anything. But then…she'd never forget the way he'd shrunk away from her, almost desperate to take the moment of recognition back.

He hadn't wanted her to see him.

The truth behind it was hard for her to swallow. If he'd been undercover as her mind wanted to believe, it would make sense, but it wasn't like that. His fear hadn't been of being discovered, it was of being seen. It was an act of shame.

Tears formed at the corners of Nancy's eyes and she opened them, no longer wanting to remember the man she'd seen in prison.

For a long time she sat there, her mind finally stilling in the silence, but still no closer to being relaxed. In the end she decided it didn't matter. It didn't matter why he'd been there that day, only that he was alive. And so she was going to find him, and when she did, she'd ask him herself. No matter what had happened, he was still Frank.

Knowing sleep wouldn't be possible Nancy got up and got ready for work. In the past, when she had been faced with a mystery, she had never worried about how it would all turn out. She just focused on collecting clues, details, and when the time was right they would all just fall into place. Keeping her eyes open and her mind alert had not only saved her life a number of times, but it had also solved numerous crimes. She couldn't do that if her mind was bogged down with worry. At some point, this mystery would make sense. She just didn't have enough clues yet.

Perhaps the items from Frank's computer might give her one more.

It was only three in the morning when Nancy walked over to her desk, her laptop bag hanging at her side. She wasn't going to chance not having it with her again. That, and it might give her an excuse to go visit the tech guys upstairs.

To her surprise, a note had been left for her from Brent.

'Your peaberry mocha lead was solid. Operation begins today at 0700'

"You're kidding," she said out loud, a smirk curling her lips. It was a bright spot on a gloomy morning, and she took it as a sign. She wondered if they'd let her listen in on operation. Sometimes they did, if it was close enough. But most likely she'd get the transmission afterwards. There was a file on her desk, and leaving her bag in her chair, Nancy flipped through it as she made her way to the kitchenette for coffee. This looked like it was going to be a long day for her.

"You're here early."

Nancy looked up from her reading to see Isaac leaning against the wall nursing a cup of coffee and looking rather exhausted. "So are you."

"Actually," he said with a smirk, "I'm here late." He motioned to the file. "That the update about Turner?"

She nodded, slipping the file under her arm as she poured herself a cup. "I admit, I didn't think it was much of a lead, but…"

Isaac laughed. "Neither did we. Well, no one but Brent. I never knew the guy loved his coffee so much. This is from his private stash."

Nancy quirked an eyebrow and then cautiously took a sip. She nearly gagged.

"Strong stuff." Isaac laughed again.

Nancy grimaced, but refrained from pouring the cup out just because she knew he was waiting for her to do exactly that. "So how come you're here so late?"

"Another top priority came in today. Nothing serious. In fact I'm the only one on the assignment, but Fairchild wants it ready by morning." He grimaced, and determinedly took another sip of the horrendously strong coffee. "Which of course means-"

"That you're here all night," Nancy finished. She could empathize for the man. she'd been in his spot many a times. They all had. Brightening, she realized it also might give her the opportunity she needed. "You know Isaac, since I'm here early, I could help you."

He quirked an eyebrow, intelligent eyes sizing her up. "But?"

She gave him a winning smile. "I have a small favor to ask in return."

He rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me you want me to try and break into Quantanamo's records now. You know there's not going to be anything there, anyway."

"No, nothing like that. My friend burnt his computer, and I was wondering if you could see if you could recover his hard drive for me. It would mean a lot."

He hedged, but with a look at the clock gave in. "Okay."

"Great, I brought it with me."

Isaac looked at her in surprise. Surprise that quickly turned to suspicion, but Nancy ignored that part. She knew Isaac well enough to know he wouldn't push too far. She told him she'd meet him at his desk and heading back to her own left the potent cup of coffee there with the file on Turner before pulling out the hard drive and NIC from her laptop case.

Isaac turned in his chair when Nancy approached, but before she handed the hardware over she took a peak around the corner to see if Tracy was in her cubicle. It was gratefully empty. Tracy had been a big help the last time, but Nancy didn't want to push her luck. Getting Isaac involved in this was bad enough.

When she turned back it was to find that suspicious look on Isaac's face again. "All right, Nancy Drew. What is this about?"

"Like I said, he burnt his computer." She handed the hard drive over, playing innocent.

With a sigh, Isaac took it, and examined the device. "Come on. We'll have to go upstairs to get anywhere with this."

As they stepped off the elevator one floor up, Nancy was confronted with the sights and sounds of a very busy lab. The room was broken off into various sections by clear windows and low walls but it was easy to tell that there were at least twenty people there, all engaged with one piece of machinery or another. Isaac walked through the center of the room as if he knew where he was going, which confirmed the rumor that this had been his previous department.

Seeing them as they passed by, one guy came out of one of the adjoining lab rooms and called out, "Hey, Isaac. You done with your stress break yet?"

"Haha! Very funny Bill!" Isaac retorted without even stopping. He led her through a door at the back of the room that lead to a hallway, and several more rooms. These had solid metal doors, and warning signs posted on each one.

Reaching out to touch one as they passed by, Nancy was surprised to find it was warm. If she listened closely, she could hear the humming of machinery. Then they turned down another hallway, one that she imagined ran along the outside of the building. Here they passed into another large room, not nearly as big as the first, but still holding just as much machinery. Unlike the first room that seemed almost futuristic in it's design, this one felt rustic and cluttered. Workbenches were pushed to the sides of the room. Each one covered in books, papers, the odd bits of machine parts, and metal and plastic filings.

At the end of the room were drills, and other such pieces of equipment. This was a real workroom, and it more than looked the part. Three guys and one girl surrounded a rather small cube placed on the center table.

"There sure are a lot of people here tonight," Nancy quietly remarked, taking all of it in with an excitement and wonder she hadn't felt in ages.

Isaac just smirked. "This is normal. Night's when they do their best work!"

At the sound of his voice the four techies looked up, smiles creasing all their faces. "Isaac!" The woman greeted first. "What brings you up here?"

"Guys, this is Drew, one of my colleagues from below. Drew. This is Stew, Jacks, Nina, and Tex. The other guys are the computer geeks, but these guys are the true genius here."

"Hah!" The one called Tex exclaimed with a grin. "Don't try to sweet talk us, Isaac. You need something, don't you?"

Shrugging admittance, Isaac stepped up to the table and placed the half burnt hard drive next to the cube. The four took to it like moths to a flame. Moments later, the hard drive was dissected with the cover now being examined under a scope, and the internal disks being integrated into a machine Nancy was fairly certain was some sort of computer.

"Well here's your first problem," Nina stated, motioning for them to look through the lens. Nancy did, although she wasn't sure what she was looking for. "This drive had a micro explosive inside. If I had to guess, I'd say it was a BSW380, like those ADF guys used to use. Definitely out of date."

At the computer, Tex agreed. "Yes, the new acid capsules work much better. Much more data is guaranteed to be corrupted."

Quickly digesting the fact that a miniature bomb had been the cause of the hard drive's destruction, Nancy hopefully questioned, "Than you can recover the files?"

"Much of it, yes. It's an old hard drive, so a lot of files are corrupted. That plus its little blow up would have guaranteed its uselessness five years ago, but now…" He trailed off, pulling out a small flash card from the machine he was on. He passed it over to Jacks who took it to another machine, this one, definitely a computer.

"But," Jack continued with a grin, "Our technology has greatly improved since then."

Something troubled Nancy. "Just how old is this hard drive?"

"Five, six years."

"And the files on it?"

Tex still had much of the information on his machine and answered, "The last one was time stamped from three years ago."

Long before Frank 'died.' Nancy tried not to hide her disappointment. It was still the only lead she had. Pursing her lips with renewed determination, Nancy looked back up to find Isaac practically glaring at her. She'd lied to him. The accusation was plain on his face, but Nancy didn't think she could have done this any other way. Hopefully he'd keep quite about it till she could explain in private.

She looked down at the Network Card in her hand. She was here now, might as well take the chance. "I found this, too. I know it's been modified, but not much else." She handed it over to Nina, who took one look at the NIC and whistled. "What?" Nancy immediate asked.

"It's a Network Card," Nina stated, and beside her Stew took the Card, also looking at it with admiration. Nancy frowned in confusion. Seeing her frown, Nina took the NIC back from Stew and pointing to the welded on deformity, explained, "It's an encryption device specifically designed for Network agents, granting them access to much of the Network's databanks and safe communication between agents."

"The Network," Nancy repeated in shock. "As in the international anti-terrorist agency?"

"Yes. That Network. This card is a little outdated like the hard drive, but there's no doubt about it. Whoever owned this computer was a Spy."