A/N: I know a lot of people have been worried that I had given up on this story or put it on hiatus. I promise that's not the case, despite the long amount of time between updates. I've been travelling a lot recently, and unfortunately that makes it very hard to write (especially when my laptop decides to stop working while I'm on a month-long trip!) So, hopefully that helps explain the delay -- as I've mentioned before, I have no plans on giving up on this story until we all see it through to the end!
Many, many thanks to my wonderful betas for all of their guidance and support, and to all of the people who have reviewed this story for your continued encouragement. I'm anxious to hear everyone's thoughts on this chapter, so please review!!
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. Plain and simple as that.
----------------------------
"Any luck?" Fenton Hardy's voice was strained, forced through the taut muscles in his neck.
Carson shook his head desperately in response, sweat dripping in rivulets off his face. He paused in his motions, panting heavily. Next to him, Fenton continued his struggle with the ropes that bound his wrists behind his back. Only a sliver of light illuminated the interior of the train car, allowed through by a slight crack in the large metal door. But even in the dim lighting, Carson could see the redness that suffused Fenton's face from his exertions. For one wild moment, Carson was deathly afraid that his friend might have a heart attack, and the irony of the thought nearly induced him to mad laughter. He looked at the bomb that the kidnapper had placed in front of them on the floor of the car, the seconds slowly ticking away.
Maybe a heart attack wouldn't be such a bad way to go.
Shaking his head to clear away the morose thought, Carson began struggling against his ropes again with renewed vigor. There was still time, and that meant there was still hope.
He just tried not to focus on how little time there was, or how little hope.
----------------------------
Frank Hardy gripped the dashboard of the SUV tightly as his brother swerved from behind a giant eighteen-wheeler truck, mere seconds before impact. His body felt like a tightly wound coil, his muscles rigid with tension. Somewhere behind them, he could practically envision Pennington chomping at the bit, eager to follow them despite the risks that his early arrival could cause. Ahead of them, beyond the endless stretch of highway, were their fathers and two lethal, deranged kidnappers. And next to him was his brother, driving like an equally deranged maniac.
"Joe, slow down," Frank said through gritted teeth. "This isn't NASCAR."
"No," Joe said tightly, his hands gripping the wheel. "It's faster. And if you don't want me to lose focus, Frank, I suggest you stop telling me how to drive."
Surprisingly, Frank heeded his brother's advice. His cautionary warning to Joe had been more out of habit than true fear for their lives -- the desperate need to get to their fathers in time far surpassed any kind of regard for traffic dangers. Still, Frank darted a quick glance towards the back seat to see how Nancy was dealing with Joe's erratic driving. She caught his glance, and the corners of her mouth turned slightly upward, reassuring him. There was no longer any fear in her eyes, but rather a certain fierceness, a readiness to face whatever they would find when they reached their destination. Frank could tell that Joe's driving wasn't fazing her at all; the only allowance that she made for it was a hand tightly wrapped around the armrest of the door to hold herself in place. He returned her small smile and turned to face forward again.
Nancy's calm demeanor caused the tightness in Frank's chest to ease a little. Too many times on this case, they had been in this exact situation -- in a vehicle, racing against time to save their loved ones, with fear and desperation resting heavily in their hearts. Now, for better or worse, Frank knew instinctively that this would be the last time. This was it -- the final confrontation with the kidnappers that this whole farce had been leading up to. And they would not face these criminals with fear, but with the determination to rescue their fathers and get out of this whole mess alive.
After that, they just had to hope for the best.
----------------------------
"There it is," Frank said, pointing. He had spotted a slight glimpse of the stalled train, still far away, beyond a dense grove of trees. The late afternoon sun illuminated the tall, stark peaks of the mountains in the distance, adding to the sense of isolation that pervaded the area. There were no other cars on the road, no buildings, no people, no sign of life but them. Still, Joe inched the vehicle forward with caution until they had a better view of the train. He stopped, his brow furrowed. Then, he suddenly swung the SUV off the road and into the grove of trees, driving as deeply in as possible. Putting the vehicle in park, he cut the ignition and turned to meet his brother's inquiring look.
"I know they're expecting us, but I figured we could at least try for the element of surprise."
Frank gave him an approving look. "Good thinking, Joe." He opened his door and jumped out.
Joe and Nancy followed, and they stealthily made their way through the trees, using the cover provided to get as close to the stalled train as possible. Eventually, they reached the far edge of the grove. They stopped, assessing the remaining distance to the railroad tracks. It looked to be about half a mile, but it wasn't the distance that was the problem. It was the fact that there was no cover for them in this last stretch. They would be completely vulnerable out in the open.
Joe looked over at his brother and Nancy and saw the same realization on their faces. He gave them a tight smile.
"You guys ready to make a run for it?"
Nancy pushed away the stray wisps of reddish blond hair that had come loose from her ponytail. She looked at the barren, dirt-filled stretch of open land in front of them, and then at the unmoving train that was their ultimate goal.
"Let's go," she said firmly.
Frank's answering nod was their signal, and the three darted out of the trees into the open space. Their feet pounded hard into the dirt, their legs propelling them forward at breakneck speed. The wind whistled in their ears, carrying with it a sound that brought them to a sudden, silent stop.
The sound of a revolver being cocked.
----------------------------
The three detectives instinctively turned in the direction of the sound, but not before Nancy cast one last, long look at the train that still seemed so far away.
We didn't even have a chance, she thought in frustration.
And there behind them were Jack Lerner and John Krieger, in the flesh, their faces no longer masked, standing with identical handguns aimed directly at them. Even though they had already figured out who the kidnappers were, seeing them together was still a shock. They were recognizable, but their appearance had changed drastically. Jack Lerner was no longer the jovial host that had greeted them on the mystery train so long ago. The years had carved deep lines into his face, and his eyes had frozen into a cold wrath that made Nancy shiver. In contrast, Krieger's rage radiated from him in hot, boiling waves. Gone was the suave, cold businessman that they had last encountered. In his place was a hardened, embittered savage. But beyond their appearances, it was the sight of the two men together that delivered the greatest shock. From two completely unrelated cases, two completely different countries…Nancy gave herself a mental shake. As inconceivable as it was, there was no time to dwell on it. However these men came together, the fact remained that they now had identical shiny stainless steel revolvers pointed at her and her friends.
"So long," Lerner breathed, and there was a hint of madness in his eyes. "So long we've waited for this moment. All our planning, so painstakingly executed. And here you three are, at our mercy. This is a very sweet moment, indeed." He turned to his companion. "Don't you agree, John?"
Krieger grinned maliciously. "I have to say, Jack, I wasn't too keen on your game of cat-and-mouse. I just wanted to get rid of these punks and be done with it." His grin spread even wider. "But since payback is supposed to be exquisitely painful, this way was much better."
Joe's hand inched slowly, painstakingly towards the holster his waistband. Unfortunately, Lerner caught the movement and aimed the barrel of his gun directly at Joe's heart.
"Don't even think about it, Joseph."
Joe gritted his teeth in frustration and let his hand drop back to his side. Lerner just smirked at him.
"You always were a troublemaker, Joe. Even back in the old days, I had to lock you away on that train to keep you from poking your nose into my business. You just couldn't keep yourself from trying to find that girl." Now the smirk turned into a scowl. "You three never could mind your own business. Always tried to be too smart for your own good." Lerner used his gun to gesture at Joe's holster. "I want you to remove your gun slowly and place it on the ground. Then kick it towards me. You do the same too, Frank. I'm not taking any chances with you three." Lerner's hand tightened around the handle of his gun. "If I see even one false move, anything I don't like, I'll blow your brains out." Krieger just remained silent, watching the aggravation on the detectives' faces with smug satisfaction. He kept his gun trained unwaveringly on Nancy.
"Now raise your hands in the air, all three of you," Lerner demanded.
They complied, painfully aware of the helpless situation they were in. Nancy glanced at the stalled train again out of the corner of her eye, her muscles taut as they desperately fought the urge to run towards the train and get their fathers out now. Frank's voice broke into her thoughts.
"Okay, you have us right where you want us." He tried to sound conciliatory, but undercurrents of frustration still ran through his voice. "You don't need our fathers anymore. Let them go."
"You're in no position to bargain, Hardy," Krieger growled.
But Lerner actually smiled.
"No, no, John, Frank is actually quite right. We don't need their fathers anymore."
And then in a motion so smooth it was nearly undetectable, he pulled a small plastic device from the pocket of his slacks. And with the same chilling smile firmly in place, he pressed a button on the trigger.
He was still smiling when the train exploded, each car sending its own flaming inferno into the clear blue sky.
----------------------------
No.
Nancy was sure that she screamed that single word of denial. But she could hear nothing above the deafening sound of the explosion, and she knew that the word had only been a silent scream in her head. As the flames rose high into the air, grief exploded in her heart. Her father was gone.
The muscles in her legs that had turned to jelly mere seconds before now roared to life, and she launched herself at Lerner, finally screaming that word aloud.
"No!"
But even as she lunged, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Krieger had swung his arm around, following her momentum with the barrel of his gun. But she was too far gone to stop, too intent on reaching Lerner, needing to let loose the rage and grief tearing at her heart upon the person that had caused it.
"Nancy!"
Frank's voice was merely a dull roar in her brain. But the sound of the bullet that followed it was infinitely louder. Suddenly Nancy was falling, away from Lerner, Frank's weight propelling them both toward the hard ground. He landed on top of her, his body shielding her smaller frame. Nancy tried to get her breath back, her hazy mind taking a mental inventory of her body, trying to determine if she was shot. But other than some soreness where she had hit the ground, she felt no other pain. And somehow, the hit that she had taken had knocked the raging grief out of her, causing her to once again find a slippery grip on reality. She took another deep breath and slowly removed her arms from around Frank, which she had unconsciously wrapped around him when he had knocked her down.
"Frank, I'm fine. You can let me up…"
But the words died in her throat as her right hand came away from Frank's side.
It was covered in blood.
----------------------------