Chapter 27

"Hold him." Frank heard the apparent leader say calmly to the two members of the gang who were awaiting further instructions. They each took one of his arms and then he heard the unmistakable chink of keys being pulled from a pocket behind him and then someone was holding his wrist. A few seconds later, his right arm was free of the handcuffs. Immediately, a strong forearm was wrapped around his neck and his right arm was released by whoever was holding it. The empty half of the handcuff was then used as a lever to pull his left arm up his back.

"Open the safe," said the man from right next to his head. He was so close Frank could actually feel his breath against his ear and it made his skin sting where he'd received the beating.

"I can't."

"Just open it Hardy, and stop wasting our time." The man gave the handcuff a quick twist, bending Frank's hand into a painful position.

"Yowch! Look pal, the reason I can't is because my hand's numb, so I doubt if I could open it, even if I wanted to. But if you keep on doing that with the cuff, you can go sing!"

The man sighed. "I'm going to ask you the same question as I asked your brother. Do you want to die?"

Frank gave the question some thought. "Dying isn't real high on my wish list, but I'm pretty much sold on the idea that once you've got what you came for, you're going to kill me anyway. So the question I'm asking myself is: Just what is it that I have to lose by bothering?"

The man paused, obviously surprised by Frank's well-considered response. "It won't be anything you'll be losing, but I'm pretty sure you wouldn't want Nancy Drew to get hurt. She can only run for so long before we catch up with her. And then there's your brother and family of course…" he left the rest open to Frank's own imagination and slightly tightened his grip around his throat.

"You'll stop tormenting them and leave them be if I give you the memory stick?" Frank negotiated.

"You have my word."

"Not wishing to be disrespectful, buddy, but your word doesn't mean a whole heap-o crap to me."

"You really have no choice, Mr Hardy – but I assure you that I am a man of my word, just as you're about the prove you are. It's too late for you, but not for your family."

If Frank could have shrugged his agreement, he would have. But instead, he shook his hand vigorously and opened and closed his fist a few times to rid himself of pins and needles and then raised it to the safe. He spun the wheel all the way around to zero to reset the cogs and then moved the dial seemingly randomly from left to right for eight turns, stopped and pulled the handle down until the door swung towards him.

Instantly he was pulled back and up. Once he'd been dragged a few feet away from the strong box, he was hurled back down to the floor, landing heavily and causing his knee to spasm before a foot was introduced to his midsection again, winding him for the second time. Then to finish off, he received another clout to the head. It was an unnecessary assault, done to purely demonstrate the level of control the man now had over him. Frank's brain was starting to buzz, the figures in the room started to mist together into a myriad of confused colors.

"Make sure he doesn't get up." Frank heard someone order and then a foot was planted against his throat.

Frank listened to the sound of the contents of the safe being ejected from the shelves, the movements becoming more and more frustrated and urgent as time went on. In due course, the rummaging stopped, the foot was lifted, and Frank again found himself being dragged roughly in front of the safe amongst the debris.

"Find it – you'd better not be lying to me, Hardy! I'm tired of dealing with you and your family."

The hooded man was obviously getting pretty angry because the grip around his throat was a lot tighter. Luckily, he didn't bother to hold Frank's left arm up his back this time, so Frank was able to use it to steadily lever down on the man's forearm so he could at least breathe. He put his right hand inside the safe again and ran trembling fingers around the top of the door opening until they came into contact with a small object. Gripping the memory stick, he pried it free of the sticky dots that he'd used to attach it semi-permanently to the ceiling of the strong box and held it up. It was snatched from his grip, and he was pulled up almost to his feet before being turned around in order for a punch to be delivered to his face with sufficient force as to send Frank crashing back against the edge of the desk before dropping back to the ground like a rag doll.

A muttering of annoyance was heard coming from the table, aimed in the direction of the one who had struck him as Frank's elbow had apparently nudged the laptop and nearly sent it flying off the table. A mini argument ensued.

It was getting to the stage where Frank was tempted to ask him not to strike him in the head again – he'd rammed his point home that he was in charge and Frank had duly noted it! Worryingly, he was now seeing the world in monochrome and it was getting difficult to define the men moving about in comparison to other inanimate objects in the room. Blinking hard, Frank forced his vision to shift into sharper focus.

Eventually, the shouting dropped to a murmured conversation as the men commenced work on the computer, the sound of keys being tapped. For the time being, they were disinterested in him. It didn't matter, he could barely move anyway.

"Is it the key?" one of them asked.

"Yeah, it's the stick all right."

Eventually, one of the men looked up and remembered that Frank was there. He calmly went to the open case, reached in and made to lift something out, but something distracted him and he turned to the window and pushed his fingers between the blinds and peered out.

"It's the cops!" he said. "We've run out of time. Pack up the computer and put on your masks, we're heading for the roof." He pointed to Frank, "He's coming with us. I'm not finished with Hardy yet and we may need him for collateral."

Fenton listened to Con as he shouted instructions down the phone to his colleagues for the entire frenzied journey to the high school, dropping in his own suggestions every now and again.

Con was making it very clear to his troops that no officers were to enter the building unless he was there and if he caught anyone being a 'hero' he would haul them over the coals personally. He asked that an ambulance be dispatched to the building and that no emergency vehicles use their lights or sirens or drive at speed once in the grounds of the high school. Eventually he disconnected the call.

Fenton glanced at Nancy in the rear view mirror and saw that she was leaning back with her eyes closed. "Nancy, honey, you feeling okay?" he asked.

Nancy nodded. "I'm trying to control the wonderful headache that's promising to be a bit of a doozy later, but I'm okay."

Con opened his jacket and pulled out a strip of plastic. "Here you go," he said and passed two painkillers back to her.

She opened her eyes and accepted the offered pills from him. "Thanks Con," she said gratefully and dry-swallowed them down.

"We're here," Fenton announced in a low voice from behind the wheel.

Nancy shuffled forward until she was leaning between their seats and they all looked through the windshield at the front gates that led into the school grounds.

Fenton slowed right down and crawled the car up to the entrance to enable them to view the driveway. They could see the mini-van parked outside the open main doors of the building, and just past the gate was the car that all three of them recognised as the vehicle that had been pursuing Nancy earlier.

"It's them," Nancy confirmed. "Joe was right."

Putting his vehicle in reverse, Fenton backed it up onto the pavement to make room for the emergency vehicles that were now starting to arrive and make their way as silently as possible into the parking lot.

They all three now exited Fenton's car as one and entered the school grounds. Con put his palm out to indicate that they should wait and peeled away from Fenton and Nancy to run on ahead and start coordinating his people.

Fenton and Nancy waited as requested and watched as Con waved his officers towards him.

One of his men suddenly looked to his right and was diverted towards the shrubbery and bent down – he'd found the Janitor. Con went across to see what had distracted him and called over a female officer to help and then returned to the rest of his numbers and pulled them into close conversation.

Fenton decided to move towards the school and put his hand on Nancy's shoulder. They passed the little car and Nancy stopped and pointed. Fenton could clearly see that the right front light was broken and there was some superficial damage to the metal and paintwork.

"That wasn't there before. There was some damage after he nudged my car, but it wasn't to that side," she told him.

Fenton regarded Nancy and wondered if she was thinking the same thoughts as he was – did the car hit a 'something', or was it a 'someone'?

Con left his troops and went to one of the emergency vehicles, pulled two bulletproof vests out and made his way back to Fenton and Nancy to address them. "The cavalry is ready to go," he said, "but I'd feel better if you'd wear these." He looked Nancy up and down. "I'm not comfortable with this one little bit – I wish you'd stay here Nancy."

"Totally no way." Nancy said simply and took the vest from him.

Con shrugged. "Sorry, but I'm an old fashioned guy who'll feel responsible if you get hurt."

"I'll be careful, Con," Nancy promised him.

Fenton also accepted the proffered vest and they quickly zipped them to their bodies. Con gave them both a pull to check they'd been fitted correctly, tightened Nancy's up, and then nodded.

"Okay, let's go and get my boy!" Fenton said and he and Con started jogging towards the building and drew their guns, with Nancy bringing up the rear.

Con jerked his thumb at the officers to take to their stations behind their cars. They all ran as one, crouched down behind their vehicles and drew their weapons, aiming them at the building in readiness for any trouble. The two remaining police officers took up the rear to be bodyguards to Fenton and Nancy, who were, after all, civilians and technically shouldn't have been there at all!

Con pulled Nancy behind him and silently the five entered the premises and instantly observed the long scratch mark that had been gouged into the wooden flooring, obviously by something that had been dragged. There were still speedily drying damp patches here and there as well.

Con raised his arm over his head and made a rocking motion with his index finger, indicating that they should move forward.

They quickly reached the junction in the corridor and saw that the seemingly never-ending scrape mark was carrying on around to the left. And then – as if they needed any more confirmation that they were on the right track – a sign above their heads was pointing them to the direction of the principal's office.

Just before they rounded the corner, there was a crashing noise from further down the corridor, followed by raised and aggressive voices.

"This way – up to the roof!"

Con dashed forward, planted his feet and raised his gun. "Freeze!" he shouted.

The other two officers caught up with their lieutenant and also aimed their weapons with Nancy and Fenton rounding the corner last.

They took in the view of four men, all in dark clothes, masked and hooded, and all making their way through a door that presumably led to a stairwell. The man bringing up the rear had his arm around Frank's neck and was dragging him backwards with a gun pressed hard up against his temple. "Stay back!" he shouted, "Or I take his head off – and if you doubt me, just try it! Make any move in the next five minutes and he's dead."

Frank was balancing on his left leg only, his other hanging down uselessly. He was looking back at Fenton with half closed, dazed eyes, a pair of cuffs dangling from one wrist. "Dad?"

Con and his officers didn't lower their arms, but Fenton did put his palms up, what he was seeing scared him. "Okay, just don't hurt him any more." He then addressed Frank. "Son, it'll be okay. We'll get you out of this, I promise."

"Oh no, Frank – what have they done to you?" Nancy whispered as Con stepped in front of her protectively.

Con's head was held high and his eyes intense and unblinking, his weapon arm strong and unwavering. He gritted his teeth and swept his gun searching for an opening to be able to put the man holding Frank down, but the man slotted himself further in behind his prisoner's head making himself an even smaller target, but Con was continuing his visual pursuit nonetheless, his index finger massaging the trigger.

"Con, don't you try it!" Fenton snapped.

Frank's eyes switched from his father to Con and a dim level of understanding shone forth. He tried to move his head to one side to give his friend the chance of a mark.

The man holding him felt Frank's slight jerk and coldly diverted his weapon from Frank to Con and fired, the shot driving Con backwards as his chest took the full impact of the slug. Con landed with all the dexterity of a block of lead and he slid some distance down the corridor on the polished floor, taking down Nancy along with him and one of the his fellow officers, the noise of the gun reverberating like a mortar bomb in the enclosed space – there was no silencer this time!

The last officer standing went immediately to return fire.

"NO!" Fenton yelled and pushed the cop's arm down as Frank was yanked from view and the door slammed shut behind him and his captor.

Fenton's feet were confused as to which direction they should be taking, but in a split second his head reminding him that they'd been ordered to stay back for five minutes by the man who had his son and obviously he'd meant every word. Fenton didn't dare defy him!

Nancy was back on her feet, but was gawping shocked in the direction of the stairwell, neither moving nor reacting and the other officer who'd gone down was swaying to his feet decidedly stunned.

Fenton turned to help the last officer who was now leaning over Con, taking the few paces at a run. He was amazed to find that his friend was moving, even if obviously in pain.

"God damn!" Con groaned, curling up into a ball and clutching his chest. "Bullet proof vests – never leave home without one! But it still hurt like hell!" he looked up at Fenton. "Sorry, Fen, I tried to take him down, but I just couldn't find an opening." He stopped, those few sentences leaving him gasping.

Fenton helped Con to sit up and gave him the five minutes to collect himself before saying, "We need to move, they'll be out of sight by now…" he helped his friend to his feet and they approached the stairwell, Con still unable to stand up straight and wheezing like an asthmatic.

Nancy automatically followed them, although she was still struck dumb.

Reaching the door, Fenton automatically went to yank it open, but then froze when he saw something attached to the handle on the other side of the glass. Nancy then went to open it instead, but he quickly pushed her hand up and away. "No, honey, don't do that!" he hissed, "There's something on the other side." He turned to Con, "What do you make of that?" he asked.

Nancy took out her flashlight and illuminated the object, ultimately allowing Con to take the light from her as he and Fenton pressed their faces up against the glass so they could look at it more closely. Con couldn't see all of it, but it was obvious to him what it was. It was obvious to Fenton as well as he stepped back, growled and stamped his foot. "It's an incendiary grenade and they've rigged it so we can't open the door without blowing ourselves up."

They all looked helplessly at one another.

"There must be other ways up onto the roof, surely?!" Fenton shouted, his usually rich baritone voice, rising an octave as panic finally overwhelmed him.

Con laid a calming hand against his friend. "Fenton, we'll get him back!" He then turned to one of his officers. "Go and see if the Janitor is in any fit state to help us."

The officer ran away from them in the direction of the front door.

"Let's not wait for him to come back to start looking," Fenton begged. "Come on people – I'm not giving up on my boy!"