Disclaimer: I do not own Nancy Drew or the Hardy Boys and am making no money off this. And as always any comments, including constructive criticism continue to be welcome.
"Do you see anything yet?" Joe whispered to Frank.
"Nope, nothing. The same as the last five hundred times you asked," Frank whispered back. The brothers were crouched behind some bushes at the edge of the FDR monument. Around them were some of the city's famous cherry trees. A few feet away from their hiding place, Sandra was also crouched behind more shrubs.
Frank peered through the gaps in the foliage, alert for any sign of the Foxes or anyone else scoping out the area. The only sounds were the breeze murmuring through the branches above his head and the sound of falling water coming from the monument in front of them.
Suddenly, the sound of shoes on paving was added to the mix. Frank felt his body tense as he tried to work out where the sound was coming from. A flicker of movement skirted the edge of his peripheral vision.
"I'm going to take a look around," he whispered to Joe.
"Gotcha," Joe whispered back, "I'll stay here and keep an eye on things."
Frank crawled out from behind the bush. As he got to his feet, he continued to scan the area. He saw nothing.
He moved across the open area, following the sound. He passed plinths engraved with Roosevelt's famous quotes but barely saw the words. At last he caught a glimpse of auburn hair. He changed his course and headed towards it.
Eventually, he came across Fiona. She stood erect, every muscle in her frame signalling alertness. When he drew alongside her, she merely gave a small nod.
"Any sign of your contact?" he asked, keeping his voice to a whisper.
"Not yet," she replied, also in a whisper.
"Ain't that sweet," came a voice from somewhere in front of them as four tough looking men stepped out of the shadows. Then another man emerged from the darkness. He was taller than the other four and had straggly short brown hair and a lanky frame. "You bought your boyfriend along to the drop-off," he said to Fiona in the same voice they'd just heard.
"What do you want?" Frank said.
"We came to get the coins but I guess we're gonna have to take care of you two before we split," the brown haired man said. The four other men took a step towards them. Frank dropped into a karate stance in response. He could feel the slight pressure of Fiona's back against his.
One of the four men lunged toward him. Frank let loose a strong punch that sent the man staggering back. Meanwhile Fiona tackled another one of their attackers, unleashing a powerful kick that swept her opponent's feet from under him.
Frank whipped his head around and saw the third man aiming a punch. The fist slammed into his jaw, making the world around him blurry for a tenth of a second. He sidestepped the next blow and delivered a solid return hit as Fiona sent the fourth man sprawling on the ground with another kick.
As she did so, a plastic bag filled with something shiny fell from the pocket of her jeans. The brown haired man pounced on the object and scooped it up.
"We got what we came for," he called to the other four, "let's go!"
The five of them raced off, Frank and Fiona close behind them. Frank kept his eyes fixed on the group as they weaved through the pillars. At some point Joe joined them, keeping pace with Frank.
They kept the five toughs in sight until they reached the street. There a beat up old minivan waited. The brown haired man raced around to the front passenger seat, flung open the door and vanished inside. The other four piled into the back and the van raced away.
Frank stood on the sidewalk, breathing heavily, Joe and Fiona either side of him. Sandra came and stood beside him, slipping her hand into his.
"What happened?" she asked.
"They got away," Frank replied.
###
A wave of pain washed over Nancy as she drifted back to awareness. She was laying on something cold and hard and rough. She opened her eyes but still saw nothing but blackness. Panic gripped her until she felt the knot digging in to the back of her head. She flexed her hands and feet and found that they were bound with some kind of rough cord that cut into her skin. She worked her jaw around and felt something sticky over her mouth.
Okay Drew, time to focus, she told herself. She started to twist her wrists, working the rope back and forth. It took what seemed like forever, but at last she felt some give in the cord.
Suddenly, there was a grinding and scraping sound from somewhere in front of her. Nancy paused for a moment, ears straining to pick up any additional sounds. The scraping and grinding stopped and was replaced by heavy footsteps coming toward her. She went limp, trying to make it seem like she was still unconscious.
The footsteps came closer and began to circle her. Nancy maintained perfect stillness, trying to make it appear like she was still knocked out. An eternity later they grew fainter and fainter and were replaced by the grinding and scraping. Then there was silence.
Nancy resumed working on the rope, this time with more force. The owner of the footsteps could be back at any time with a way to deal with her, permanently. She felt the rope loosen more and more as it frayed.
At last, the final strands broke and Nancy's wrists were free. The first thing she did was reach up and pull the blindfold off. Looking around, she saw that she was in an old gray walled outbuilding. The paint on the wooden door had already flaked off in large patches.
Nancy set to work on the rope binding her ankles. Her fingers found the knot and soon she was unwrapping the cord from around her ankles.
Nancy ripped the tape from her mouth and stood up. She crossed the room to the door and tried it. To her surprise, it was unlocked. It opened with the same scraping and grinding noise she'd heard before.
When she emerged from the building it was still dark outside. She was in an open green space. In the distance she could see the house where that strange ceremony had taken place. Nancy began to jog toward the house.
When she was halfway there she saw a figure some way ahead of her. When she got a little closer, she could see that it was Alejandro Del Rio. He was staring up at the house and seemed lost in thought. Only when Nancy was right next to him did he notice her.
"What brings you here?" she asked.
"I became aware that the Pre-Columbian Society was meeting here tonight so I decided to come here to see what I could learn about the missing carving."
"Then we're here for the same reason," Nancy said, "What is the Pre-Columbian Society?"
" A group of rich Americans who like to play dress up and take part in play acting a mockery of Mayan and Aztec rituals."
"So they might be willing to pay top dollar for the carving."
"Correct."
"Do you know why John Riggs might be here?"
"I'm afraid I cannot help you with that."
"Well, I should be going. My friends are waiting for me."
"Before you go, I have a proposition for you. We may have different ends in mind but we are pursuing the same goal."
"The recovery of the carving?"
"Yes."
Nancy hesitated before replying. Alejandro was a suspect and she normally tried to avoid letting suspects in on her investigations. But on the other hand as someone who moved in diplomatic circles, he might have access to information that she couldn't obtain. Plus if he was the culprit, letting him believe that he was no longer under suspicion could lead to him making a key mistake. "Alright," she said.
"Excellent."
###
"Where have you been?" Bess asked when Nancy finally made it back to the rental car.
"Long story," Nancy replied. She then told Bess and George everything that had happened.
Bess put her hand on Nancy's shoulder. "Are you okay? Do you want me or George to drive on the way back?"
Nancy gave her friend a small smile. "I'm okay, Bess."
"Do you think Alejandro Del Rio really wants the carving to be recovered or do you think he just wants to keep tabs on us?" George asked.
"I really don't know, George," Nancy said, "However, I do know that it's time we went back to the hotel and got a good night's sleep. We're meeting Frank and Joe for breakfast tomorrow."
The three of them climbed into the rental car and drove down the driveway. They had been on the road for a few minutes when another car drew up alongside them. The driver's side window rolled down and a hand holding a plastic cup of something slid out. The hand tossed the contents of the cup at their car. Thick, black oil hit the windscreen and covered it, obscuring Nancy's vision. She heard the other car race off. Suddenly, something slammed into the side of their car.