J.M.J.

Author's note: Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! The next chapter will be out tomorrow. God bless!

October 6 – Friday

The engine of the plane and Earl mumbling in his sleep had been the only sounds for a long portion of the flight. Once Earl had managed to get them into the air—despite Nancy's concerns—Brock had pushed him to the side and taken over the controls of the plane, telling Earl to sleep it off. Apparently, Brock could handle a plane once it was in the air, and they had had a smooth flight so far. The clock on the plane's dashboard showed that it was past midnight now, at least in whatever time zone it was set for.

"How much do you know?" Brock asked abruptly.

The question caught Nancy off guard, and so she didn't answer right away.

"I would think that would be an easy question for a detective to answer," Brock said.

"It's not always a question a detective wants to answer," Nancy replied.

"You don't have a choice," Brock retorted. "Start talking."

Nancy took in a deep breath. "Devin Reynolds was the leader of the gang, wasn't he? You knew that, even though you played dumb."

"Go on," Brock said when she paused, neither confirming nor denying the allegation.

"Devin had a good thing going, but he made a mistake when he brought you in," Nancy went on. "You're the trigger-happy one, aren't you? Why did he bring you in?"

"Guess." Nancy could see Brock's smirk in his reflection in the glass.

Nancy decided not to play along. "Did you know that Dallas was with the FBI? Why did you wait so long to kill her?"

"Devin knew. He always liked playing elaborate games. I think he regretted it in the end."

"But it worked well while it lasted," Nancy said. "He kept the operation going a long time, and even now, I'm not totally sure what the operation really was. I know that you were involved in human trafficking."

"We were more than just 'involved,'" Brock retorted. "Devin built up a huge operation. We were a clearing house of sorts, transporting our wares to partners all over the world. Until Reese decided to become a turncoat. That's when it all started falling apart."

Nancy was glad she was sitting behind him so that he couldn't see how disgusted she was. "But you only made matters worse from there. Tell me, why did you order those men to kill the Hardys and their friends?"

"What makes you think it was me?"

"I heard the recording of you talking to them," Nancy said. "You disguised your voice, but you slipped a couple of times. When you were talking back at the hangar, I recognized the way you said certain words."

"Not bad." Brock nodded approvingly. "Yes, it was me. Devin was furious when he found out. He dragged me back to Hawaii and wanted me to try to fix things. He didn't think he could trust Coswell. Not that Coswell wouldn't fulfill a contract if he could, without too much trouble, but he was lazy. Devin made me call him and try to make sure those kids were really dead. He recorded it, too. That's when I started to realize. Devin was only out to protect himself, liking everyone else."

"How did you realize that?" Nancy asked.

"Because he kept that recording so he could turn it over to law enforcement if I stepped out of line again. That's why I kept Weston and the rest of them from killing your old man and that kid and then went to the police. I had to get back at him somehow. I didn't think he'd really do it, but he did give that recording to an FBI agent, one he had wrapped around his finger. He'd convinced him that Pavel Morales was involved in all this." Brock scoffed. "The only involvement Morales had, up to that point, was to refuse to accept the contract Reynolds had put out on me. That was his first plan, you see, after I doublecrossed him. Poor old Devin. Nothing ever went right for him again."

"That still doesn't explain why you were interfering in the first place," Nancy said. "Why did you order the boys to be killed?"

Brock shrugged. "The message that they'd seen Reese being recaptured came to me first when it was supposed to go to Devin. I couldn't pass up an opportunity like that: six interfering kids in one stroke. I didn't know they were the Hardys, you have to understand. I might have left alone then. I don't know."

"But if you didn't even know who they were, then why?" Nancy asked. "It couldn't have been any personal reason then."

"Of course, it was personal," Brock snapped. "I didn't need to know who they were for it to be personal. I'm not the stupid country bumpkin everyone thinks I am. I know all about people. I know that every single one of them would cut your throat in a heartbeat if benefitted them and they thought they could get away with it. The only way to survive in the world is to cut the other guy's throat first. Besides, they deserve to suffer. All of them. That's all they've ever done to me."

Nancy's impulse was to object that that was insane, but she stopped herself. Irritating someone who was bragging about being unstable enough to kill people for nothing wasn't such a great idea, especially since she was currently his prisoner. Instead, she asked, "Where are we going?"

"Devin used several privately-owned islands for his operations," Brock replied. "Four of our people managed to get out of Hawaii and that's where they went. We're headed there. It's a good place to hide. It's out of the shipping lanes, so we'll probably not even be found. I know several people have lived on it for years without being found. And even if we are found, there's nothing anyone can do. It's in international waters and under its own jurisdiction."

Nancy considered interjecting that Brock and his people could still certainly be arrested for crimes they had committed in the United States, New Zealand, and who knew how many other countries, but she didn't see that it was necessary. It was just as well if Brock thought he was home free.

HBNDHBNDHB

The castaways were awake before dawn. They had worked out their plan for capturing Ingram the evening before, and none of them had slept much after that. There was no such thing as a foolproof plan, especially when they were trying to capture a man who was armed while none of them were armed. Moreover, the last week had felt so apocalyptic that they all had the feeling they were coming to the end of their stay on the island, one way or another, and yet that it wouldn't be a pleasant end seemed more likely.

Once it began to be light enough to see, the castaways began getting into position. Tony would stay with Katina. It took some effort to make Katina understand that they wanted her to stay where she was, but in the end she seemed to. They had scouted out a place where they thought they could corner Ingram, and Joe and Chet were to wait there. Biff had agreed to act as the bait, since he was the fastest runner after Joe and with Joe's injury, they didn't think he should be put in such a demanding position. Being appointed leader now, Phil had wanted to take that job, since it was the most dangerous, but Biff had successfully argued against it. Instead, Frank and Phil would follow him to help him out if he got into any trouble.

They didn't want to make it too obvious that it was a trap, so Biff didn't simply blunder to a place where Ingram was likely to see him and then start running. Instead, he went to a place where one of the springs on the island crossed a path that the castaways had blazed. The ground was muddy, and Biff left several clear footprints with his bare feet. He then headed toward the spot where the boys intended to ambush their target, taking opportunities as they presented themselves to leave signs of his passing through. If Ingram had any knowledge whatsoever of tracking, he would be able to follow the trail. Seeing that the trail was made by only one boy alone, Ingram would probably start along it. The hope was that he could reach the spot for the ambush before Ingram could get near him. Of course, Longheim or Weston might pick up the trail instead, but in that case, the boys might be able to simply try again.

Phil and Frank were careful not to let Biff out of sight but to leave as few signs of their own as possible. A footprint here or a snapped branch there couldn't be helped, but hopefully Ingram wouldn't even notice their trail.

They were about halfway between the spring and their destination when Frank thought he heard someone following them. He paused and signaled to Phil to also be quiet. They listened for a few moments and both were sure that someone had picked up the trail.

"Maybe one of us should double back and see who it is," Phil whispered. "If it's Longheim or Weston, we could warn him off."

"That could be dangerous," Frank told him. "But I'm willing to try it."

"No, I'll go if either of us do," Phil said hastily.

"Okay, but if I could give you a piece of advice, we haven't actually talked to Weston. If it's him, I wouldn't approach him. It might be just as well if we catch him in our trap."

Phil nodded. "Okay."

He retraced his steps far enough to make sure that it was really Ingram behind them. Once he saw the man on their trail, he hastened forward again. As he went, he misstepped once and caused some stones to roll. He sank down under the cover of the brush and watched Ingram. The man had clearly heard the sound, as he was looking around suspiciously, but then he continued onward.

Biff had also heard the rocks rolling. Somehow, it made him nervous, even though he knew it might just be one of his friends. He picked up his pace and quickly reached the spot where Joe and Chet was waiting. It was at the foot of the southernmost hill, where there was a short cliff about twelve feet high. It formed almost a semicircle, so that the boys could surround Ingram against the cliff face. Once Biff arrived in the area, Joe and Chet reached down to help him scramble up the cliff. Then they fanned out to block any potential escape by Ingram.

When Biff had picked up his pace, he had also started making more noise. That had prompted Ingram to also hurry, and he reached the cliff only a minute or two after Biff. He looked around him suspiciously, and the boys watching him thought he must realize this could be a trap. Frank and Phil still hadn't arrived, and Joe debated whether they were going to have to spring the trap without them. Ingram turned around and surveyed the area around him. He missed the boys, however, as they were crouching near the ground and he was looking up at eye-level.

That, however, was how he spotted Frank and Phil making their way forward. He crouched before either of them realized he had seen them and raised the rifle he was carrying. Joe knew he couldn't hesitate any longer now. With Ingram's attention diverted away from him, Joe sprang at him and tackled him to the ground. Unfortunately, Ingram hadn't lost hold of the rifle, and for a dangerous moment, the two of them were struggling over the gun. Biff and Chet jumped in, and Chet managed to wrest the gun from Ingram. By the time their friends had arrived, the three of them had subdued Ingram.

"You were supposed to wait for us," Phil said.

"From where I was sitting, it didn't look like we could," Joe replied.

"This isn't going to do any of you any good," Ingram said, struggling against Joe and Biff as they held him. "There are still three others, and we have more coming."

"Yeah, well, we just tipped the odds a little more in our favor," Joe told him.

"What are we going to do with him now?" Chet asked. "One of us is going to have to be guarding him at all times."

Everyone looked at Frank, who waited a few moments to give Phil a chance to answer. When Phil gave no indication of having any intention of answering, Frank sighed and said, "We'll have to keep him tied up. I know it sounds cruel, but there's no way to watch him close enough all the time. It's probably going to be a couple of days at least, and we're all going to need sleep. We'll hold onto his gun, too. Hopefully not, but it's probably going to come in handy."

"What do we use to tie him up?" Biff asked. "Vines?"

"For now. You guys put rope with the supplies we hid, right?" Frank said.

Joe nodded. "I'll go back and get some once we have him secured."

At the same time, they heard an engine overhead. They all looked up to see a small plane coming in low above the island.

Ingram chuckled. "You guys have more trouble than you can handle now."

HBNDHBNDHB

"I need a drink," Earl said as he killed the engines of the plane. He moaned and leaned against the controls.

"Forget about drinking," Brock snapped at him. "I might need you to fly us out of here again."

Earl had woken up before it was time to land, but his hangover looked severe enough that Nancy didn't trust his ability to land any more than she had trusted his ability to take off. Fortunately, he pulled it off again, landing the plane on the water off the beach of an island. Brock threw the door open, and then he turned and grabbed Nancy by the arm.

"Come on," he said. "We're going to go and see some friends of mine."

"Hold on, Brock," Earl protested. "Why don't you leave the girl here? You don't need a hostage anymore."

"I want to make sure she doesn't run off," Brock retorted.

Earl laughed. "To where?"

Brock's face reddened. "I hired you to fly the plane, not be my advisor."

Earl held up a finger. "Devin hired me to fly the plane. But go ahead. If you want to drag that girl through the jungle, fighting you every step of the way from what I've seen of her, go ahead."

Brock glanced from Earl to Nancy, and then he let go of Nancy's arm with as much roughness as he had used to grab it. "All right. But you'd both better be here when I get back. Don't forget I've also got a cruiser at my disposal on this island. I no longer absolutely need you, Earl."

"I'm not going anywhere," Earl said with a grimace as he massaged his throbbing temple.

Nancy watched as Brock strode off into the jungle. Then she looked at Earl. "What are you doing?"

"Wishing I could curl up and go to sleep at the moment," Earl responded. "But first I've got to tell you something."

"What?"

"I'm not a regular member of this gang, if you haven't figured that out by now, and I don't totally approve of everything they do."

"Oh." Nancy said, unimpressed. "You 'don't totally approve.' But you're still helping them."

"Yeah, well, maybe I don't want to help them right now."

"Could you get to the point of whatever you're trying to say?"

"Please, my head." Earl held his hand against his temple. "I've been on this island before. Maybe Brock told you that Devin owned it. Sometimes, they'd stop here for different reasons. It's not a bad island. In fact, there's a girl here. Been here maybe five years."

"So?" Nancy asked dubiously.

"Back then…Well, you know what these people do. Sometimes, they'd use boats. One time, they stopped here to weather a storm. Their prisoners escaped them in all the confusion. They rounded most of them back up, except for that one girl, but it took them days. She's still here. I see a glimpse of her every now and then."

"What does any of this have to do with anything?"

"Oh, right, the point. The point is that there are places to hide on this island. If you ran away now, they'd probably never be able to find you."

"You want me to run away?" Nancy asked in confusion.

"If you knew what Brock was going to do to you now that he's out here and thinks no law can touch him, you wouldn't hesitate."

"What about you?" Nancy asked. "He threatened you, too, if I wasn't here when he got back."

"He didn't mean it," Earl said confidently. "He hates sailing. Gets seasick. He wouldn't shoot his only chance to get off this island without going by boat. Oh, and I almost forgot to say, I'll send help for you when I get back to civilization."

"You have a radio in this plane," Nancy said. "Why don't you call for help now?"

"They've also got a radio on that boat, and they're nosy enough they might be listening in. If they happen to overhear me, Brock might forget about his seasickness a few seconds longer than is good for me. Once I'm back to civilization, I can have some privacy."

"Then why don't we just leave now?"

Earl groaned. "Because I've currently got the mother of all hangovers and we're lucky I was able to land this crate. Taking off again, flying halfway across the ocean, and then trying to land…Let's just say I'm willing to help you. I'm even willing to take some risks to do it. I'm just not willing to commit suicide."

Nancy didn't quite buy the excuse, but she also realized that she needed to stop wasting time. She didn't want to be here when Brock came back. "Okay. Thanks. Please, don't forget to send help."

Earl reassured her that he wouldn't, and Nancy jumped down out of the plane and ran into the jungle.

HBNDHBNDHB

"The doctors are confident she's going to make it, but she hasn't regained consciousness yet," Sam was telling Fenton over the phone.

"I'm glad she'll be all right," Fenton replied. The rest of the report wasn't particularly good news, but he would take what he could get. The important thing was that Callie was going to survive. Her kidnappers had so far escaped, and with them, any clues to Morales's whereabouts. At least now there was nothing to prevent Fenton from going after him now. That is, nothing besides those coordinates that Callie had handed Jerry while murmuring Frank's name. They could mean almost anything, of course. They didn't necessarily have anything to do with Frank. Fenton had already looked them up. It was over five hundred miles to the northwest of Hawaii. Satellite images showed that there was an island there. It could just be some kind of trick—it would be just like Morales to try something like that—but Fenton was determined to check it out anyway. The only delay now was that Jack Wayne needed an amphibious plane to land at the island, and he was having some difficulties renting one. That was why Fenton was pacing around the hangar Jack had rented while he talked to Sam. If Jack managed to get a plane yet this afternoon, Fenton didn't want to waste a second getting to the airport.

"We've also got more bad news," Sam went on. "Did you hear about Nancy?"

"What now?"

"I tried to call her, hoping she had some information for us," Sam explained. "She didn't answer, so I called Ned. Apparently, she's been kidnapped by Brock Garret. It looks like your theory that he killed Devin Reynolds is probably right."

"Do they have any leads?"

"They escaped in a plane, but that's all anyone knows. The New Zealand authorities tried to track the plane with radar, but it took them too long and Garret had gotten out of their airspace by then. They haven't been able to pick up the trail."

"Maybe I should…" Fenton started to say, but Sam cut him off.

"No. One thing at a time. I have a feeling those coordinates are important. You need to check them out."

"Okay." Just then, Fenton saw Jack coming toward the hangar. "I have to go. Call me if anything else comes up."He ended the call and hurried outside to meet Jack.

Jack simply shook his head. "There's nothing available until tomorrow. I'm sorry. I tried everything I could think of."

"Did you reserve one for tomorrow?" Fenton asked.

"Yes."

"Good," Fenton said, although he was more disappointed than he admitted. "If that's the best we can do, then we don't have much choice."

HBNDHBNDHB

Frank and Joe had volunteered to go and spy on the plane that was incoming. It was an amphibious craft that landed on the water just off the beach on the west side. The boys found a concealed spot that they could watch from. A few minutes after it landed, a man who seemed vaguely familiar jumped out and headed up the beach to the jungle. After another few minutes, a second person jumped out of the plane and started up into the jungle, although in a different direction. The Hardys recognized this one.

"Frank, that's…" Joe started to say.

"I know." Frank glanced questioningly at the plane. "Let's let her get out of sight of that plane. There could still be trouble."

They waited until Nancy had disappeared from view and then they started to follow her. It wasn't long before they could see from her body language that she had realized someone was following her, but they were far enough from the plane now that they didn't think they'd be disturbed.

"Nancy!" Frank called softly.

Nancy froze, not turning around.

"Nancy Drew!" Frank called again, a little louder this time.

This time, she whirled around. Her eyes were wide and even her mouth was open a little and her face was pale. "How…You're…You're supposed to be dead."

Joe laughed. It was such an unexpected relief to be face-to-face with someone friendly. "No wonder you look like you've seen a ghost then."

Nancy closed her mouth and a shade of color returned to her face, but she continued to stare at them. "Is it really you?"

Frank nodded and he also chuckled. "I don't think I've ever been so happy to see anyone in my life."

Nancy rushed forward and wrapped them both in a hug at once. "But how? What about the others?"

"We're all okay, more or less," Joe replied. "I don't suppose the guys in that plane are friends of yours?"

"Hardly," Nancy replied.

"It did seem like a lot to hope for," Joe said in disappointment.

"You've been here this entire time?" Nancy asked. "Were you prisoners?"

"No, just stranded," Frank replied. "Let's go find the others. We'll tell you the whole story then."

HBNDHBNDHB

The reunion was undoubtedly more surreal for Nancy than it was for any of the idea that the boys could be stranded on an island had seemed too incredible to even suggest, and the idea that they might be stranded without their would-be murderers coming back to finish the job practically defied belief altogether. Then, too, the boys themselves had changed so much. They were all tanned so dark, and the blond ones had their hair so sun-bleached that it was practically white. They all had hair longer than she had ever seen them with and there was apparently no such thing as a razor on the island. Yet they must have had a pair of scissors, as they had clearly done the best they could with one. Yet it wasn't their physical appearances that were the most drastic changes. They weren't just boys anymore, Nancy thought; they were men now.

Nancy was also introduced to Katina, who was shy and suspicious of the stranger. It wasn't hard for Nancy to guess that she was the girl that Earl had told her about, and so she related the little piece of the story that she had. The castaways were glad to have part of the mystery about Katina cleared up, although the answers were even grimmer than they expected.

By the time they had exchanged stories, the fact that all this was real was finally settling in. The castaways were disappointed that Nancy hadn't come with a sure means of rescue, but they took it in stride, observing that the chance of the pilot calling for help was the best chance they'd had yet.

"And if nothing else, it's nice to have a new face around here," Chet commented.

"At least you haven't had to look at your own face this whole time, like the rest of us have," Biff teased him.

"Yeah, it's one of those times when being the most handsome guy around is a disadvantage," Chet rejoined.

Nancy looked at the ground. "I guess if I am stuck here, it's no worse than I deserve."

"What do you mean by that?" Frank asked.

"This whole time, I haven't done much to find you," Nancy said.

Joe laughed at this while the others looked either bewildered or bemused.

"Sure, Nancy," Joe said. "Half a billion trips across the country and to Hawaii and how many countless hours trying to find some lead and getting kidnapped and risking your life was hardly anything. You should be ashamed of yourself."

Nancy's cheeks reddened. "Well, as a matter of fact, I am. Instead of looking for you all that time, I was looking for—well, I thought they were your murderers."

"Which is how you found us," Frank reminded her.

"Yes, but it might not have taken so long if we'd started by searching for you directly," Nancy insisted. "We knew that you'd been taken out it a fishing boat. That would have been a start."

"Which direction were we taken?" Phil asked.

"We didn't know that," Nancy admitted.

"Then thank goodness you didn't waste a bunch of time scouring the entire ocean for us," Phil replied. "Do you know how many years you could have spent doing that before you happened to get to this island?"

"Besides that, how were you going to search the whole Pacific?" Joe asked. "In a kayak?"

"We could have used a boat or a plane," Nancy retorted.

"Oh, and which billionaires were you going to get to finance that?" Joe replied. "It probably would have taken more than one."

Nancy cast him an exasperated look before Frank stepped in to intervene.

"Nance, I would have done exactly the same thing in your place," he assured her. "And if I was in your place right now, I'd feel exactly the same way you do."

Nancy smiled slightly. "Thanks, Frank. That helps."

"I just wish our families wouldn't have had to go through all that," Chet said. "It must have been worse for all of you than it was for us."

"Well, if it helps, Iola didn't believe it," Nancy replied.

"Ha!" Chet said, grinning now. "That figures my stubborn sister would be too much of incurable optimist for that."

"I'm afraid she did get cured after that recording I told you about turned up."

Joe had been distractedly playing with a stick between his fingers, but when Nancy said this, he snapped it. "I hate thinking about everyone at home thinking we're dead."

"Let's think about getting out of here instead," Frank said. "There's a plane and a boat on this island, both of which are equipped with radios. There's got to be a way we can use one of them to get home. Actually, I've been thinking about it, and it might not be that hard. The plan for capturing Ream was better than the one for Ingram anyway, and we pulled Ingram off—we've got him tied up over there a little way where he can't overhear all our plans, in case you're wondering, Nance—so the plan for Ream is worth a try. Things have changed a little now, so we're going to have to reconnoiter to see whether it's even possible, but if it is, it could get us at the radio on boat long enough to call for help."

"We needed Longheim for that plan," Tony reminded him. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"No," Frank agreed. "We can revise the plan to not include him. There are enough of us that I don't think it'll be too hard. We're just going to have to replace him with some of us. I know the plan relied on Longheim being armed and being able to threaten Ream into not yelling, so someone willing to handle the gun we took from Ingram will have to take on that role."

"I've just got one question," Phil spoke up. "Am I still appointed leader?"

"Sorry," Frank said. "I didn't mean to step on toes."

"No, it's just that if I'm still the leader, I'm going to appoint you to handle the gun," Phil said. "I know I'll have to go with you in case they still have the wires on that radio disconnected. Since we've also got that crazy Brock-guy running around, we'll need a look-out, too."