A/N: Sorry for the long wait, guys, as I've had practically no time to write. At first I couldn't quite figure out how to start the chapter, but it's really amazing how things come to you when you're trying to put off your English essay... Well, here it goes; as usual, please read and review!

Nancy took deep breaths through her nose to calm herself down as Joe drove the black sedan (the preferred car of criminals) toward the spot where they were supposed to meet Fiona. It wasn't working. Nancy had never been prone to anxiety, but tonight was a special case.

Joe turned on the radio. Just in case the car was bugged, he didn't want Fiona hearing what he had to say. He glanced around. "Okay, Nancy, I've got a plan." he said quietly. "It's not Frank-caliber, but it just might get us all through this alive."

Nancy let out a shaky breath and looked at him through wide eyes. "Let's hear it."

Charity stopped the car a few blocks from the hotel, which was on the outskirts of town and sandwiched between a train station and a restauant. Charity and Frank got out and made their way slowly, arms around each other, looking for all the world like a couple in love. As they passed the hotel, Charity shot a coy look at Frank and drew him into the dark side alley behind the building. Frank followed. A show for any nosy bystanders or prying eyes. As soon as they were out of sight, Frank shook Charity off him. "Let's just do this, huh?" he asked tensely.

"But of course." Charity replied, glancing at her watch. She pulled out a flashlight and walked toward a line of trash cans near the kitchen's back door. She took the lid off the last one in the line and Frank saw that it was filled, not with garbage, but with many things, including a long length of rope, a knife, and, to his astonishment, a large yellow lump of plastic explosive and a detonator.

"Where did you get that?" he hissed. He had been prepared to make a more conventional chemical bomb, but she'd made his job much easier- and more dangerous. A lump the size of the one in the can, if placed correctly, could easily fell the entire building.

Charity smiled drolly. "Frank, dear, just because something is incredibly illegal doesn't mean it can't be obtained... Especially when you have connections like I do."

Frank snorted. "Oh, come off it. I bet there's a huge black market for this stuff." Carefully, he lifted the detonator out and away from the explosive.

Charity looked wounded. "You were expecting something along the lines of TNT?" she asked distainfully. "Sorry, I don't do primitive."

"I can see that." Frank answered, studying the detonator under Charity's flashlight. He had seen these once before, during a case in New York City. All you had to do was embed the detonator in the claylike explosive, plant the explosive, hit the button and stand back. He glanced suspiciously at Charity. Something didn't quite fit. She was more than capable of doing this by herself... But all he said was, "Where's this grate we're getting rid of?"

"Up there." Charity pointed. It was about ten feet off the ground.

"Great." Frank replied. "If I stand on the can, can you hand up the detonator?" Charity nodded, and Frank climbed onto the can. He reached up to the vent and smeared just a fingerful of the plastic explosive under the sides of the grate. Charity handed him the detonator and he wedged it into the explosive. Then he jumped down. "Before we do this," he said, "I've got two questions for you. One; how will we find the Mirage's room? Two; Won't somebody hear the noise?"

Charity smiled slyly. "Don't worry on both counts. I've got it all taken care of."

Frank stared at her. "Okay," he finally said, gripping the detonation switch. "Say the word..."

Charity checked her watch. "Wait..." she said. "Just a few more seconds..."

Off in the distance, Frank heard a whistle. A train was coming into the nearby station. Then it hit him; Charity planned to use the train to mask the noise of the explosion. He gave her a look of grudging admiration. It was clever.

The train came closer. Frank saw the light and felt the ground shake under his feet. As it passed them, the train let out a long, low whistle. Charity nodded, and Frank pressed the button. There was a flash and a clatter that was barely audible over the rumbling of the train as the grate fell to the ground. Charity's smile glowed white in the dark. "Let's go." she said, loudly enough to be heard. She reached for the coil of rope from the can and hoisted it over her shoulder. She took the knife too, thrusting it into her belt. Quickly, she climbed onto the can, grabbed the edge of the opening where the grate had been, and pulled herself up, disappearing into the blackness.

Frank was impressed. It took a lot of arm strength to pull yourself up that far. Charity was good; there was no getting around it.

Charity's head reappeared. "You coming?" she called impatiently.

Frank stood on the trash can and hoisted himself up the same way Charity had done and found himself in a dark, enclosed ventillation shaft. It was cramped, but there was still enough room for him to crawl. "Now," he said. "You mentioned you had a plan?"

"That's right. Follow me." And with that, Charity held her flashlight between her teeth and crawled forward.

George ran down the hallway to Callie's room and opened the door. "Ca-" The word died in her throat as she observed Callie and Ned in a passionate lip-lock. They obviously hadn't heard her. Her eyes widened, and she slowly backed out of the room and tried again, knocking this time. "Hey, Callie," she called from outside the door, "I'm going out. Don't know when I'll be back. Tell Bess if you see her."

"Okay, George!" Callie called back. Sounding a little breathless, George thought wryly. It seemed that Bess knew more about Ned and Callie than she'd thought. She shook her head. It seemed everyone was risking everything tonight... she hoped there'd be no broken hearts later.

"You ready?" Joe murmured.

Nancy pulled on her gloves. "As I'll ever be."

"Nan?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks."

Nancy nodded, and then padded towards the museum after Fiona, black hat covering her titan hair. She was still nervous, but less so than before she had a plan.

A/N: There you go! I hope it doesn't seem too dragged out; I've been trying to get to the climax here, but all of this stuff just works its way in... Anyway, let me know what you think. I'd be happy to get any questions, comments, or criticism, so please leave a review! Thanks so much!