A/N: Sorry about the long wait; I've been agonizing over the ending. It's coming along, though... Enjoy!

Nancy's shoulder was pressed against him tightly enough that he could feel her shiver of revulsion. He tried to twist his arms enough to reach her with his hand, wanted to give her one last reassuring touch or squeeze, but his cuffs refused to cooperate and his hands remained firmly pinned behind him.

The yellow light gave them all a sickly pallor as Krieger and Halim manhandled their captives out of the car. "Ladies first?" Krieger asked lightly.

Frank watched as Nancy blanched but tilted her chin up defiantly.

He couldn't watch this girl get tortured. He couldn't. "After the steamer? I think it's my turn."

"Cole—" Nancy protested weakly.

"What chivalry." Krieger said dryly. He waved his gun at Nancy, gesturing toward the single wooden chair. "That means you can take a seat, my dear."

Krieger kept the gun trained on Nancy as Halim adjusted Frank's cuffs so that his hands were in front of him, hooking the chain of his handcuffs to one of the chains from the ceiling, then disappearing down one of the dark aisles. Even though he knew what was coming, Frank still grimaced in pain as Halim turned a crank on the far wall to raise the chain, suspending him from the ceiling by his arms, the cuffs biting cruelly into his wrists. The floor was just below him—he could just manage to scrape it with his toes—but those few inches made all the difference.

"Comfortable?" Krieger asked.

"I should get one of these for home." he gritted out, because it seemed like something Joe would say.

"Regrettably, Mr. Hardy, it seems you won't be going home." Krieger stepped to the side, allowing Frank and Nancy an unobstructed view of each other. "This is your last chance to save yourselves from an excruciating experience. Tell me where to find Darius."

Truthfully, Frank was almost tempted to tell him, but the mental image of little Leila's terrified face strengthened his resolve. Not to mention, even if he gave Krieger the name of the hospital Darius and Susannah had taken their daughter to, he'd had no idea where they'd planned to go after that. It seemed that, for now at least, the Rashad family was safe.

But it would come at a hell of a price.

He swallowed hard. "No."

Krieger waited while Halim chose a weapon from the filthy table—a rusting length of lead pipe. For a long moment he allowed the corrupt officer's aura of menace to permeate the room before turning to Nancy. "And you? I have no wish to make you witness what is sure to be a disturbing sight."

Her expression was blank, but her eyes—bright with panic, dread, and maybe a hint of pride—told Frank a different story. "It's alright." he reassured, only to be gasping with pain a moment later as the pipe cracked across his side.

Nancy let out a cry of protest, but aborted her attempt to move to him when Krieger swung the gun back around to her. "Merely a demonstration." he said coolly. "Are you sure you don't have any insights which might save your friend, my dear?"

"It's Rebecca." she spat spitefully. "And I'm not your dear."

Krieger chuckled. "Your dedication to the role is admirable, Miss Drew, but I think we can dispense with the charade. Or are you forgetting that I'm the one who invented your undercover identities to begin with?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Perhaps you find it easier to watch your husband Cole being beaten than your friend Frank Hardy?" Kreiger guessed. "Either way, the results are the same."

He began to signal Halim to continue but was halted by Nancy's murmured, "Who's Frank?"

"Mahfouz must have hit you harder than he thought." Krieger said dryly. His eyes widened as he observed the expression on her face. "You're serious." He yanked her head to angle it into the light and examined the gash on her forehead. "Actual memory loss?"

"Don't touch her." Frank said loudly. Halim had backed up a step or two while Krieger's focus was on Nancy, but now he moved closer. As painful as the first one was, another blow might be worth it if it would get Krieger's attention back off of her, Frank thought.

But Krieger was not to be distracted. "How much did she lose?" he asked Frank. "Your real identity? Her own?"

Nancy pulled her face away, refusing to look at him. "Let go of me."

"Bit of a sore spot, Nancy?" Krieger asked with dawning glee. "My god, you can't really think you're Rebecca Addison, can you? She doesn't exist!"

Clearly despite herself, Nancy turned to stare at him. "What did you call me?"

"Nancy." Krieger repeated.

Her eyes jumped to Frank's. She recognized the name from when he'd called her that in the hospital, he realized. "No..."

"You didn't know." Krieger deduced. He rounded on Frank. "You didn't tell her... Decided to make the best of a bad situation, did you, Mr. Hardy?"

"It wasn't like that." Frank said fervently, willing Nancy to believe him. He watched the betrayal appear in her eyes as she put the pieces together.

"What was it like?" she whispered. "Frank?" There was no recognition in his name, more the sense that she was testing it out.

"The doctor said not to put any stress on you, and we thought the whole story would be too much of a shock." Frank explained. He regretted not taking the chance to tell her earlier, when his feet were on the ground and his arms and side weren't throbbing with pain. "We were going to tell you—"

"When?"

"When we got home." Frank said pleadingly. "When it was safe."

"Safe..." Nancy repeated with a bitter chuckle, raising her eyes to the ceiling.

Krieger watched the drama unfold with a smug smile, evidently seeing a new target, a new weak link. His eyes flashed at Frank as he touched Nancy's shoulder gently with the back of one hand. "Not so easy, these days, to find someone you can trust, is it Nancy?"

"I hope you don't think this makes us friends." Nancy bit out acidly. "I may not know much—I may not know anything—but it's obvious you don't exactly have my best interests at heart."

"Nancy..." Krieger's voice took on a smooth, urbane tone. "Don't be so hard on yourself. After all, there's one thing you do know." He bent down to get directly in her face. "Tell me where Darius Rashad is."

"I don't know."

"Oh dear." He glanced quickly at Frank. "I think she's upset with you." To Nancy: "Maybe young Mr. Hardy deserves what's coming to him, hm?"

"That's not what this is about." Nancy said. Frank wished she would look at him again, just once. When they'd found themselves in dangerous situations in the past, a single glance had allowed them to read each others' minds, to convey strength and reassurance. But now, just as he had since Nancy had become Rebecca, he felt utterly alone.

"Why are you protecting these people? Darius and his family are strangers to you." Krieger reminded her. "Is it out of loyalty to Frank Hardy and his friends?"

He's trying to play us against each other, Frank realized. Get us so emotionally wound up that we reveal something important.

And he wasn't entirely sure it wasn't working.

"They lied to you." Krieger continued. "Deceived you in the most personal, intimate ways. Would a real friend use your injury and confusion for his own purposes? To cover up for his own illegal activities?"

"Stop it." Nancy said.

"Would he let you believe you were married to him?" Krieger pressed cruelly. "Maybe—kiss you? Tell you he loved you? All while knowing that his real girlfriend is at home in New York?"

"You're lying."

Krieger shrugged. "Ask him."

That did it. Her eyes snapped to his again, stricken and stark. "Is it true?"

For the first time since this mess began, Frank wanted to lie. Oh, how he wanted to be able to tell her it wasn't true. "Nancy—" he realized too late that reminding her of her real name might make the problem worse. "I promise—"

"Don't make any promises." she said quietly. "Just tell the truth, for once."

He took a deep breath... or as deep as he could manage with his body in its current abused position. "It's true." he said seriously. "I have someone else, and so do you. But I never wanted to hurt you and I never lied about what I feel for you. If you remembered me, you would know that."

Her voice was cold when she replied. "But I don't remember, do I?"

Halim was glancing between them with a frown, probably confused by all the talking. He spoke a few words to Krieger in Arabic, gesturing at Frank with the piece of pipe.

"My associate is right," Krieger announced. "All of these soap opera dramatics have been very amusing, but I'm afraid that if you don't tell me the location of Darius Rashad, we're going to have to pick up where we left off with your dear husband. Or whoever he is."

"I can't tell you what I don't know." Nancy said. Her hair had fallen down around her face, shielding her expression from Frank's view. Frank's heart sank as Krieger and Halim turned on him.

As soon as their backs were turned, Nancy lifted her chin, met his eyes, and winked.

Quick as a flash, she jerked one of her wrists loose from her handcuffs and picked up the lantern, smashing it to the floor. The bulb shattered and the garage plunged into darkness.