A/N: I just want to take a moment to thank you guys so much for being so cool with the delay in posting this chapter. It truly meant a lot to me. But things have gotten better, and I'm glad to finally be delving back into TCV a bit more!

Also, thanks to my amazing reviewers! You guys rock!

Disclaimer: There was once a beautiful princess who didn't own Nancy Drew or the Hardy Boys and neither do I so we have something in common.

Glaring, bright white light assaulted Rebecca's eyes as the door opened. She squinted and forced herself to look towards the source, but it was gone just as fast as it came. A low thud sounded through the room, followed by an annoyed groan.

"Help!" was one of the dozen words that Delaram knew in English, and she used it while rushing towards a figure lying on the deteriorated wooden floor.

Rebecca didn't hesitate in shining her keychain flashlight onto the newcomer. "Brooke!" she exclaimed in disbelief.

The young scientist was lying on the floor, dark brown eyes staring at the ceiling with a distinct glare of pique. She had various cuts and bruises, plus the cast on her arm had taken a beating, but she otherwise seemed unharmed. "Would someone like to tell me what's going on?"

"Are you okay?"

Brooke slowly sat up. "Well, I think my pride is a little hurt."

"Very funny."

It was then that Brooke noticed Delaram. She froze, taking in the sight of the young girl. "Who's she?"

Rebecca followed the raven-haired woman's gaze. "Did anyone ever tell you about the girl that Joe tried to rescue while he was over here?"

"I was told that the information regarding his service overseas was classified."

The brunette frowned, dark eyebrows furrowing together. "Who told you that?"

Brooke opened her mouth, but snapped it shut again. She wanted to smack herself. "Charlie."

A sarcastic laugh almost escaped, but Rebecca held back. Instead, she explained everything, from how she met the boys, all the way up to where they were right then.

The scientist listened intently, frowning, nodding. By the end, even her intellectual mind was having problems grasping each piece of information and fitting it into the proper place. She wanted everything to mesh together into a logical picture, but some pieces didn't quite fit the puzzle. There were overlaps and gaps where she longed for clean seams that allowed for easy transitions from one part to the next.

"It doesn't make sense," she thought aloud. Looking to Rebecca, she asked, "The NA attacked the village?"

"Yeah."

"But why?"

Rebecca shrugged. "They wanted supplies, a place to hide out, I don't know! For all we know it was completely random!" She threw her hands up in exasperation, wondering where her friend was going with this.

"No," Brooke shook her head. "This wasn't just a random attack. You're going to think I'm insane, but the New Assassins targeted that village and those people. This was planned," she sighed, "And it was planned well."

"Isn't that a little out there? Why would they target that village, one that was very close to the base, when they could have picked a far less protected one a few miles further out?"

Brooke opened her mouth to reply, but suddenly hesitated as a thought hit her. "They weren't just targeting the village," her gaze shifted to Della, "They were targeting her."

"Oh come on! Why would they target a seven-year-old?! It doesn't make any sense!"

"It does if you think about it! The New Assassins knew what they wanted, and they found the path to get them there."

"They wanted Delaram?"

"No! They wanted the flash drive!"

Rebecca nodded. "Okay, I'll give you that."

"They knew where the drive was, and Charlie was on the inside, but he couldn't steal it because the risk of his being caught was too high. So they watched and waited. Turns out, Joe was a sweet, caring young man, which made him fit right into their operation. They knew that if they used Delaram as leverage, they could get that drive."

"So they attacked the village, purposefully letting her escape because they knew that she'd run straight to Joe," Rebecca put in. "He comes to the rescue, but the NA takes Delaram. Then it's her or the flash drive."

"He gives them what they want, they try to kill both Joe and Delaram, and even though Joe made it out, he becomes the scapegoat," Brooke finished. Seconds later, though, she frowned and said, "But what was on that drive that they could have possibly wanted so badly?"

Suddenly, Rebecca's face fell. She let her head fall back while pressing a hand to her forehead. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me."

"What?"

"After Joe 'died,' I did some digging. Back in the eighties, American chemists created an early version of the virus, but at the end of the Cold War, everything was shut down and nearly forgotten. Once technology progressed a little further, the government moved a ton of files onto flash drives to save space. But Joe was right when he suspected that the virus formula was on that drive."

"Are you saying that a flash drive with extremely dangerous information wound up in Afghanistan of all places?"

"It wasn't supposed to. I suspect that some drives with computer programs and the like were being sent from the States. Then a mix-up, or maybe it was staged, I don't know. But once the error was discovered, the drive was going to be sent back the next day."

"And that was when the attack occurred, right?"

"Yeah. And that led to all this."

Brooke nodded slowly before she asked, "So what does that mean for us?"

"I don't know yet," the brunette replied slowly. Her thoughts wandered for a long moment and when she finally snapped back to reality, she announced, "But it's not going to matter if we can't figure a way out of here."

"Did the part where there are armed men right outside not get through to you?!" the scientist screeched as quietly as she could force herself. Her eyes were wide, black pupils dilated from the flashlight shining on her face.

"We're going to get out of here, one way or another." Even as Rebecca spoke, though, she prayed that it was true.

Darkness approached. Its blackened gloom settled in to the east, while the last rays of sunshine slowly died in the west.

The small team was in the car and Frank didn't hesitate in speeding towards the base, though by that point they'd given up hope of making it before dark. Out of the corner of her eye, Bess watched Joe intently. His eyes were a flood of worry, and his hands fidgety. She slowly reached out and slipped a comforting hand into his, her fingers sliding across his worn, callused skin.

It took her a moment to realize that he was now looking right at her. He was trying, trying so hard to muster up any sliver of courage. Managing the smallest smile, he squeezed her hand.

"Joe," Frank's voice called. The younger of the brothers forced his gaze away from Bess, and he stared out the windshield of the car. Ahead of them, covered in dusk's shadows, was the Army base.

Blond hair shook slowly as blue eyes narrowed in confusion. "This isn't right."

"Please tell me you mean we're in the wrong place."

But Joe just sat there, carefully watching the scene before him. "I wish I did. There should be more lights on, people walking around…" Blue eyes strained to look at the buildings. "There should be people eating dinner or passing out supplies to the locals."

"Are you sure?" Nancy turned in her seat and aimed a compassionate gaze towards him, as if to let him know that she understood if he was exaggerating.

The look in his eyes told her that he wasn't shifting in his position. "Yeah. I'm sure."

Getting close to the fence that enclosed the base, Frank slowly pulled off the road and parked next to a small grove of trees. The four immediately got out of the car and, without speaking a word, agreed that it would be best to survey the area from the woods before going in.

But things didn't look better up close. Not a soul was in sight. This did nothing to ease the uneasy feeling Joe had. He ran a hand through his disheveled blonde hair. "The New Assassins must have attacked. They could have waited until just the right time, and-"

"What do you mean 'the right time'?"

Joe caught his older brother's quizzical look before looking towards the buildings. "If they were patient enough, a day would eventually come when the base was understaffed. People get sick, squads go out on patrol, stuff like that."

"How often do days like that come around?" inquired Nancy.

Broad shoulders shrugged. "Not often. I'd guess once or twice a year."

"So the NA could have been waiting a long time, then."

"Yeah, but that's one of the things about the NA – they're patient."

"Like a cat waiting to pounce," Bess murmured, curling her fingers around the metal wire of the chain-link fence that encompassed the buildings ahead.

"Well," Nancy began, her red hair turning auburn in the low light. "What do we do now?"

Her question was answered by an eager Bess, who was already in the process of climbing the fence. Joe didn't challenge the girl's actions – he knew that trying to stop her and let him go first would be a waste of time. Instead, he waited silently as she climbed.

"What are you waiting for? Let's go!" Nancy exclaimed as she started to reach for the cool wire that made up the barrier.

Joe quickly stopped her by wrapping a hand around her wrist. "Not yet! The fence is only strong enough to support one person."

"Should I ask how you know this?"

At the inquiry, a slight redness appeared on his face, followed by a sheepish grin. "Let's just say a buddy and I decided to see who could get to the top first. For the record, it was me."

"You also made it to the bottom first when the fence came down, didn't you?" Nancy guessed.

"Okay Joe," Bess called quietly after her feet hit the ground on the other side, "Your turn."

"This is crazy," Nancy whispered while watching the blonde Hardy begin to scale the barrier. She sensed Frank's presence behind her as he stepped closer.

"What'd you say?"

The girl detective struggled to ignore the sensation of his breath just barely tickling the back of her neck. Turning her head, she carefully watched his expression. "We're in the middle of Afghanistan about to break into a United States Army base where we could die at any second."

"It definitely ranks up there with the strangest things we've ever done."

A small, dark chuckle escaped her. "All this because of a virus."

"No," the dark-haired man told her seriously, "Not because of a virus. This is happening because people do horrible things to get their hands on some power."

She pressed her lips into a tight line. "That's nothing new."

The dark-haired detective nodded. "Hey Nan?" he asked, his voice barely above a husky whisper. She slowly turned to look at him, blue eyes catching what little light was coming from the base. He gently put his hands on her arms. "I don't know what's gonna happen tonight, but if either one of us-"

"Frank! I'm touched by this most romantic of scenes, but let's get a move on!" Joe called, just loud enough to be heard.

The older brother's gaze became a glare almost strong enough to burn holes into his younger, but the annoyed expression softened to an apologetic, weak smile when he turned back to Nancy.

"It's okay," she told him with a coy grin playing across her lips, "I know."

He gestured for her to go in front of him, and she gracefully scaled the fence before dismounting on the other side. Frank followed suit, and soon the four of them were sneaking through the shadows.

They crept beside the darkened buildings for a hundred feet. Every inch went past agonizingly slow. Finally, Bess asked in a hushed voice, "Do you think it's a dead e-"

"Shh," Joe held up his index finger, scanning the buildings ahead of them.

"You did not just shush me."

He turned and glanced towards her indignant expression. "For once, yes, now shush!"

All was quiet except for some plants rustling in a warm, dry breeze.

"Do you hear that?" Joe breathed.

After a long moment, barely perceptible murmuring became evident. Nancy strained her ears. "Where's it coming from?"

"This way." The blonde Hardy led the way around a corner and saw a building up ahead – the only one with lights on.

Frank moved closer to his brother and asked, "What's in there?"

"It's a supply room. They keep stuff in there for people from local villages that are being affected by the war. There's MREs, water, blankets, that kind of thing."

"Any weapons?"

"Not unless you know how to drown someone in a sixteen-ounce bottle of water."

Before anyone could respond, a crash sounded from inside the supply room. Bess jumped at the noise and inched closer to Joe. It was when angry voices rang out that she clutched his arm in both hands. Her nails pressed into his skin, stinging at his arm. Rather than simply shaking her off, he reached up and took one of her hands in his. She slowly released her grip on his arm.

Pulling her behind him, Joe darted towards the supply room and hid under a window. Nancy and Frank followed suit.

Joe motioned for the others to stay low as he raised himself up just high enough to peer through the corner of the window. Inside, he saw two men standing at either side of a table. What was resting atop the table made his eyes fly wide open and drop back down. He pressed his back against the building's exterior wall, swallowing so hard it hurt his throat. "They have a canister of the virus and something that looks way too much like a bomb."

"What?!" Bess shrieked as loudly as she dared.

Still reeling, the nineteen-year-old sat with wide blue eyes searching the air for answers. "Wait a second," he muttered urgently just before again peering through the window.

"Joe, what do you think you're doing?!" Nancy growled through gritted teeth.

But the youngest of the Hardy family paid no attention to her. His focus was set straight in front of him. "It's them," he whispered, his voice unusually shaky.

"Who?"

At Bess' question, Joe lowered himself back down. "They're the guys that killed Della."

"But Della isn't dead. You know that."

"Bess, I watched her die." His voice was soft, but Bess knew it suppressed the rage of a grieving man. Lost in a haunting memory, he whispered again, "I watched her die."

"Aabdar and Hashim," Frank muttered after peering through the window himself. "They were all over the news after your deployment was cut short."

"Really?"

"That terrorist attack that wiped out your whole squad? Yeah, it made the news."

"Wow," Joe murmured. But he forced himself to focus, and began this string of concentration with instructing the others to each block one of the supply building's exits. Once in position, they would all ambush and hopefully catch the bad guys off-guard.

"But once we're in, you two stay behind us." His voice was aimed towards both the women, but concerned eyes stayed on Bess, who had little experience with anything remotely to do with combat.

They would have to be fast since they weren't sure what kind of weapons the men might have, though Joe hadn't seen anything but the bomb. Maybe they left the guns in another building. It was a stretch, he knew, but not impossible.

When Joe went in, everyone else would follow his lead. He got into position next to one of two doors, while Frank manned the other door, and Nancy and Bess took the windows. The young ex-sergeant took a deep breath and felt his pulse racing. "Here we go."

A/N: *Insert hurried author's note here.*

Baltimore out!