Author's Note:

Happy New Year! I know, I know. I'm late getting this in. It has been a hectic start to the new year and my class started yesterday so I've been preparing for it. Anyway, thank you to all who read the previous chapter and a special thank you to those who left a review! And yes, I did get that quote from Home Alone. We watched it not long before I published the previous chapter. I hope that you enjoy the chapter and let me know what you think. Thank you so much for reading and keep an eye out for updates. You never know when it will come! God bless!

Chapter Twenty-Seven

"Should you go after them, Fenton?" asked Gertrude, glancing at the back door. "They've been gone a long time, and I'm starting to get worried."

"You should be worried," Biancci laughed. "All of you. Since the buyer's here, ain't no one going home alive."

"Who is this buyer, Angelo?" Fenton demanded. "What does he want with the jewels?"

"How should I know?" the mobster shrugged defensively. "All's I know is that he wants 'em, and he's willing to kill to get 'em."

"How did you get mixed up in all this?"

"I was offered a lot of money, Fen," he answered nonchalantly. "Who would pass that up? Tannen asked for help, so I obliged. His old man was a good guy who didn't deserve what happened to him. See? I'm not that heartless."

"Oh, yeah," Gertrude quipped, rolling her eyes, "you're a real Rockefeller."

"Trudy, I can handle this," Fenton warned. He stared at Biancci and shook his head. "You say you're not heartless, but you went after Nancy like she was nothing."

"I told you already. That wasn't me. That was just business."

"'Just business?'" he cried. "You literally went after someone who had nothing to do with this!"

"Hey, it wasn't me!" Biancci defended. "My uncle would never go after her. Her father's law firm was the reason why half of our men never spent longer than a few nights in jail."

"Carson Drew would never work with your Family."

"Not if he didn't know about it," the mobster smirked. "Owen Hartley, or should I say Benjamin Worley, Jr. He was doing all that behind Drew's back. Never even knew the wiser."

"You knew about Worley?"

Biancci's smile broadened as he leaned forward. "Who do you think helped him get out of New York? Why do you think Vinny wanted me dead all those years ago? I helped the ones who killed his son and nephew get away."

Fenton's face darkened to a deep shade of red, though he remained where he stood. "You knew what they did," he growled through gritted teeth, "and you still helped them?"

"They made me a rich man, Fen," he admitted. "I knew of their whole business because I was their silent partner. I told them when the streets were clear and when Vinny was sending someone to talk to Worley. It's not my fault our old friend was dumb enough to send his son with one of his best men."

"Did you know what they did to me?"

"No. I never betrayed you. I didn't tell them you were coming."

"Why do I not believe you?"

"Believe what you want, Fen. I would never hurt you."

"Liar!" cried Gertrude. "You never liked Fenton! He was always too good in your eyes! Vinny was the only one—"

"Trudy, stop," Fenton sharply ordered, holding up his hand toward her. "I defended you, Angelo. I was the one who asked Vinny to spare you, and now I find out that you knew where they went? Did you know that Tannen was the reason Laura is dead?"

Biancci stared back at his old friend, his smile fading. "Yeah, I knew."

Fenton's face darkened further, his voice trembling with rage. Without thinking, he snatched the mobster by the lapels and slammed him into the bars.

"Fenton!" cried Gertrude as Vanessa gasped.

Biancci let out a strangled laugh, blood trickling from his nose. "Go ahead, Fen. Hit me again. That'll fix everything."

The detective let him go abruptly, his hands trembling. His voice dropped to a low growl. "You're not worth it, but consider this the end of me defending you."

"Coward!" Biancci sneered. "You never could follow through."

Before Fenton could respond, Collig stepped into the area, followed by two men in suits who surveyed the scene with keen interest.

"What the Sam Hill is going on here?" the Chief demanded.

"Tell him, Fen," Biancci laughed, his eyes gleaming despite the blood streaming from his nose.

Fenton's glare didn't waver. "I'm going to make it my goal to see you go to prison, Angelo."

"You ain't got the power to do anything to me," the mobster shot back.

"We do," replied one of the suited men, his voice calm but firm. "Agents Walker and Anderson, FBI. I'm sure Eastern State would love to accommodate you, Mr. Biancci. Especially after everything you've done."

Biancci's face paled, his eyes widening in terror. "I ain't goin' to Eastern. The stories I heard about that place…"

"I thought you weren't scared of anything, Angelo," Gertrude quipped, batting her eyelashes.

"Yeah, I ain't scared of nothin'! Except Eastern. I'd rather have von Brahn kill me than go there."

"Fenton," Collig interrupted, "where are the boys and Nancy?"

"They went outside not long ago," Fenton answered, quirking an eyebrow at the FBI agents. "What do the Feds want with us?"

"A set of jewels, Mr. Hardy," Walker replied. "We received a tip stating that they were here. We need to speak with your son about it."

The detective frowned. "But where is your friend?"

"That's the problem," the Chief sighed. "He disappeared right before Tannen was killed. More than likely, he's the one who did it."

"Oh, good. He's still around," Biancci said with a smirk. "Maybe I'll get my wish."

"Will you stay out of this?" growled Chief Collig, stepping between Fenton and the mobster. His glare shifted to Biancci, who was now slumped against the bench, dabbing at his bleeding nose with his sleeve. "We'll deal with you in a moment. Fenton, you said they went outside. How long ago?"

"Not long," Fenton replied, his jaw tightening. "But long enough to be worried. They should've been back by now."

"And they probably won't," mumbled Biancci under his breath, though loud enough for everyone to hear. His smug grin returned as he caught Fenton's eye. "If von Brahn's out there, they're as good as gone."

Fenton took a step toward the bars, fists clenched, but Collig's hand on his arm stopped him. "That's enough," the Chief ordered, his voice firm. "Focus on finding your kids."

"Yeah, Fen," Biancci called after him, chuckling darkly. "Go find their bodies. If they're lucky, he'll leave something to bury."

"Shut up, Biancci!" Collig snapped, his voice sharp enough to cut through the tension.

Before anyone could respond, a sharp crack echoed through the station—the unmistakable sound of a gunshot. All eyes turned toward the door leading outside.

Fenton didn't wait. He bolted toward the door, his heart pounding with dread. Whatever waited on the other side, he knew he had to face it.

"Who are you?" Frank demanded, stepping forward. "And what do you want?"

"Friedrich von Brahn," the man introduced himself, his thick German accent punctuated by a sharp click of his heels and a slight bow. "And what I want are my jewels... and her."

"Over my dead body," Frank growled, instinctively stepping in front of Nancy. Joe mirrored his brother, his glare fixed on von Brahn. Nancy stood frozen, every instinct urging her to run, but her legs refused to obey. She knew he'd catch her before she made it two steps.

"That can be arranged, Herr Hardy," von Brahn said coldly, his predatory smile deepening. He chuckled, savoring the flash of surprise in their eyes. "Und yes, I know all about you und your family. Herr Biancci und the late Tannen told me much. You are brave—foolishly so—to return here, given the... history."

"It was time to come back," Frank said, forcing calm into his voice despite the adrenaline surging through him. "I wasn't going to let anyone else in my family get hurt. And I'm not letting you hurt anyone else tonight."

"You are mistaken, Herr Hardy," von Brahn sneered, waving his hand dismissively. "Tell me where my jewels are, und I may let you und your brother live."

"I don't think he understands us, Frank," Joe said mockingly, masking his fear with bravado.

"No, Joe," Frank smirked, keeping his tone steady, "I don't think he does."

"Don't underestimate him," Nancy hissed urgently, her eyes flicking toward a shadow shifting behind the German. Her pulse quickened. "He's worse than he looks."

"I would listen to the young lady," von Brahn said, his sneer widening. From inside his coat, he drew a Luger, its polished barrel gleaming under the dim alley light. He leveled it at Frank's head. "Where are my jewels?" von Brahn demanded.

Frank tensed though he held his ground as he spoke, "Shooting me won't get them." He shifted again, making sure his body was completely in front of Nancy.

Von Brahn's smirk widened, his cold eyes flickering with cruel amusement. "Such bravery," he drawled, shifting his aim slightly. "It's almost touching—almost. But bravery alone won't spare you."

Nancy's gaze darted back to Frank and Joe. They were standing firm, but she could see the strain in their eyes. She felt rooted to the spot, fear locking her muscles. Yet, her mind raced, searching for a way to warn them without alerting von Brahn to the looming danger.

The shadows shifted again, more distinctly this time. A figure moved silently, closing the gap behind von Brahn. Nancy clenched her fists, forcing herself to stay still and not give anything away.

"Where are my jewels?" von Brahn demanded again, his voice sharp, his patience clearly thinning.

Before anyone could respond, the shadowy figure lunged, tackling von Brahn to the ground. The gun fired, the deafening crack reverberating through the alley, but the shot went wild.

"Get down!" Frank shouted, grabbing Nancy and Joe and pulling them to the ground as chaos erupted around them. The sound of a fight echoed around them but they dared not lift their heads.

"Frank! Joe!" Fenton's voice called out, filled with urgency. He rushed toward them, relief washing over his face as he knelt beside his sons and pulled them close. "I should've been here. Are you okay?"

"We're fine, Dad," Joe mumbled, pulling away. "No thanks to—"

Their attention shifted to the man now standing over von Brahn.

"I told you, Fen," Vincenzo Martinelli said, adjusting his suit with a smirk. "I came to help."

"Thank you, Vinny," Fenton said, rising shakily to his feet. He extended his hand, and Martinelli clasped it without hesitation. The handshake lingered, a shared understanding passing between them.

"Well, I'll be," Collig replied in shock when he saw Martinelli and von Brahn rolling on the ground. The two FBI agents rushed up behind him, their guns at ready though they lowered them when they saw the German on the ground. "What in the Sam Hill is going on here?"

"He was going to kill them," Martinelli said evenly. "I wasn't about to let that happen. My men are rounding up some very unhappy Germans nearby. I assume this man is your buyer?"

"Yes," Nancy said, her voice trembling as Frank helped her up. She nodded toward von Brahn, now restrained by officers. "Henry showed me his picture."

"Who's Henry?" Fenton asked, his brow furrowing.

Nancy explained her encounter with Henry, her voice soft but steady. "I wrote the story, but it was never published. My editor thought it too fantastical for a local newspaper. I still have it, though I wonder how von Brahn knew about it."

Von Brahn chuckled darkly, drawing their attention. Despite his pale face, his tone was defiant. "I knew of your meeting, Fräulein," he sneered, his accent thick with menace. "My man overheard everything at the bar. Heinrich was a fool to show you that picture—it sealed your fate. But Tannen... he was the real fool. Once his usefulness ended, so did he."

"You killed Tannen?" Fenton demanded, his voice sharp with anger.

"Ja," von Brahn replied, a chilling smile spreading across his face. "Und I would do it again."

"Why admit it now?" Collig asked, his tone wary.

"Because he knows we can't hold him," Frank said bitterly, his fists clenched.

"Precisely, Herr Hardy," von Brahn sneered. "Even if I had the chance to get rid of you three, your authorities would still release me. Your government will send me away with a warning. Und then... we will meet again."

"Oh, you may walk, von Brahn," one of the agents said, stepping forward with quiet authority. "But I can assure you, you won't be returning. Your country will be notified about your activities, and I expect they'll send someone to retrieve you."

Von Brahn's face paled slightly before he recovered his composure. "They don't care about me as much as you think," he chuckled, though his voice faltered. "I'm nobody to them."

"I highly doubt that," the agent replied knowingly. "You may have fooled us before, but you won't get another chance. And judging by your reaction, you seem a little nervous about going home."

"You filthy Americans!" von Brahn spat, struggling against the officers restraining him. "You should have been crushed by the Führer! Mark my words—"

"Get him out of here!" Collig ordered. Von Brahn continued spewing threats as he was dragged toward the holding area. "I will return, und then we will see who is laughing!"

"That's one crazy German," Joe muttered once von Brahn was out of sight. He wrapped a protective arm around Vanessa, who had just joined them, drawing her close. He turned to the agents. "So, you're Feds?"

"Yes, Mr. Hardy," the agent said, pulling out his badge. "We were looking for a set of stolen jewels. Mr. von Brahn approached us, claiming to be an emissary for someone seeking them. We didn't realize he was the mastermind."

"Who tipped you off?" Fenton asked, puzzled. He glanced at Frank, who shook his head.

"Wasn't me," Frank replied. "I barely had time to process anything when I got here."

Nancy observed the group, her throat sore from all the talking. As the Hardys and agents discussed the jewels, she noticed Martinelli standing quietly nearby, smirking as he listened in. Their eyes met, and he gave her a wink. Realization dawned, and she chuckled softly, shaking her head.

"Nancy?" Frank asked, noticing her reaction. "What's so funny?"

Her gaze flicked to the nearest FBI agent. "Agent...?"

"Walker, ma'am," he answered. "This is Anderson. Something on your mind?"

"You said you came here because of a tip?" she asked, her voice low but clear.

"Yes," Walker nodded. "Why?"

Nancy glanced at Martinelli again. He smirked knowingly and gestured for her to continue. Fenton caught the exchange, his eyes narrowing.

Martinelli nudged Frank, grinning. "Don't let this one go, kid," he said. "She's sharp."

Frank flushed slightly. "Huh?"

"I think he's saying," Fenton cut in, disbelief coloring his tone, "that he's the tip."

"Come again?" Joe blurted, baffled.

"As I said earlier," Martinelli replied with a shrug, "I'm here to help."

"Mr. Martinelli has been an FBI informant for several years now," Agent Anderson revealed. The Hardys' mouths dropped in shock and disbelief as they struggled to process the bombshell. Martinelli smirked, his confidence unshaken.

"Well," he drawled, placing his hands on his hips. "Don't all thank me at once."

A little history lesson:

Eastern State Penitentiary is a real place, sitting on 10 acres in the heart of Philadelphia. Built in 1827, it became the first penitentiary in the United States. It has a history marked by overcrowding, neglect, torture, and, unfortunately, a lot of violence. Hundreds of inmates lost their lives due to numerous factors, including poor living conditions, disease, and mistreatment, throughout its grim history. The prison remained operational through the 1950s, and due to its notorious reputation, criminals feared being sent there. One of its most famous inmates was Al Capone, who spent eight months at the prison for a concealed weapon charge. Eastern State Penitentiary was eventually closed in 1971, and though it wasn't immediately abandoned, it fell into disrepair by the 1980s. In the late '90s, it was turned into a museum, where visitors can tour the prison, including Capone's cell, which is preserved as it was when he was incarcerated. During Halloween, the prison hosts "A Halloween Festival of Epic Proportions," as their website states, attracting visitors from all over just for the festival. It has also been featured on Ghost Adventures and Ghost Hunters, among others, as it is considered one of the most haunted buildings in the country. And YOU can go ghost hunting through the building too! I have never had the pleasure of visiting the prison, though it is on my bucket list. So, if you're ever in Philly, check out the prison. From what I've heard, it's worth it!