To Protect and Serve

We've reached the end, everyone. Thank you for your encouragement, your suggestions, your comments... and just for reading. Thank you. I hope you've enjoyed yourself.

God bless.

-rosa

Epilogue

"Nancy, you're crazy."

Nancy passed her firearm and badge over to the desk attendant and pinned the visitor's badge onto the strap of her blue dress. Frank grudgingly followed suit, attaching the ID onto his suit's lapel. She glanced over her shoulder at him; her face glistened with make-up and her now-red hair was woven intricately on the top of her head in an delicate up-do.

"I've heard that before."

Behind them, Carson was going through the same ritual. "Apparently, it has yet to sink in," he grumbled. "I guess it would be redundant for me to state—yet again—that as your father and lawyer, I strongly advise against this?"

Nancy followed the guard, ignoring the whistles that lit the air as she passed the cells in her blue evening gown. Frank glared at every cat-caller he could identify as he trailed behind Nancy. Her ribs were completely healed, the brace she'd been wearing on her wrist had been removed for the day. She'd shed the stabilizing ankle boot weeks ago. She had healed. Almost. She would always bear Krutin's mark on her face.

"It won't do any good, Dad. I have to do this. I have to have closure."

They were lead to a room dissected by a wall of thick glass. The wall was divided into private phone stations. A tape recorder was fastened to the table at each station.

"Ok, fine. I'll give you that. We all need to know whether or not he's going to send people after you," Frank conceded. Wondering had cost him countless hours of sleep in the past months. "But why today?"

Today, Callie Shaw was getting married. Neither Frank nor Nancy was in the wedding party, but their presence was expected. Callie and her fiance would wait for them. Joe, Bess, George and Tom, Laura and Fenton Hardy... not to mention the press... would all be counting on their arrival.

"Several reasons," Nancy answered absently, watching the guard. "One. Time constraint. Two. Automatic, pleasant distraction when we're done here."

The guard disappeared into a hallway. The door shut behind him with a metallic clang. Frank's eyes were on Nancy as the guard reappeared behind the class, escorting a familiar figure. Nancy's eyes narrowed.

"Stay back," she murmured, glancing first at her father, then at Frank. "I'll do this on my own."

"We're right here, Nancy," Carson Drew said darkly. Frank was slightly startled by the cool fury in the older man's eyes.

"Yeah. Right behind you," Frank agreed in a low growl.

She nodded but didn't look back at them. Instead, she walked forward, her stiletto heals clicking on the floor. The fabric of her dress trailed behind her.

X

Nancy walked purposefully towards the station where he was waiting. She sat down, not ignorant of his appreciative gaze. She locked eyes with him for a long moment, not faltering, and finally, picked up the phone. He followed suit, smiling still. She punched the record button on the tape recorder, and waited.

"Hello, Nancy."

His greeting caught her off-guard, just for a moment. Clarice, she expected, or Agent Drew. Never Nancy.

"Vladislav," she greeted blankly, looking through the glass at his face.

"You look lovely, as always, baboyka. I am pleased that you have returned your hair to its lovely red."

Nancy chose not to dignify this remark. Instead, she sat still and quiet, refusing to open the conversation. After a long moment, Krutin shrugged magnanimously. "My offer still stands."

Nancy's glare threatened to crack the glass between them. "So does my answer."

Krutin smiled. "I thought so." His teeth showed, and his eyes glittered through the glass. "You have come then to ask if I might send someone else to kill you while I rot away in your lovely federal prison." He actually laughed; Nancy fought a shudder, refusing to allow any sign of fear to surface.

"You needn't fear, my dear. Our night at the Frozen Lotus taught me a pretty lesson. I cannot trust anyone else with you. Those fools would have raped you, Nancy Drew. You know that. You also know that I did not order it. I stopped them; I saved your innocence."

"I could have killed you."

"Yes."

She blinked. She'd expected a refusal, an arrogant argument.

"Yes, Nancy Drew, you could have killed me easily. But you chose not to. But you must know that no matter how captivating you are, my dear, that I would not have chosen as you did, if our positions had been reversed. But you need not worry early lines into your lovely face, baboyka. If I have learned anything from our interactions, it is this: no one else seems to know how to give you the respect you deserve. Every time I left you in someone else's hands, you were mistreated. Crawford nearly overdosed you with his sedatives because he feared you. My other associates nearly caused your premature death when they beat you because they feared you."

He grinned. "But I am not afraid of you. I know to give you the deference you command, even as a retired Special Agent.

"So go and live, Nancy Drew. You need not worry about a sniper hit or poisoned food from anyone under my influence. Perhaps one of your many other more impatient enemies would care to act in such a manner. But for now, you will live. Because I don't want anyone else to kill you. I want that honor."

A chill began at the base of Nancy's neck and spread down her back and into her hair. "Fortunate for me, then, that you'll never get out of prison until you die or the government kills you."

His smile widened, and his awful, toothy smile glittered in the bad lighting. "Very fortunate, my love." He laughed. "Now, go, Clarice—live for us both! I know you will still think of me when you admire your reflection."

Nancy stood, hearing her evening gown rustle at the movement. Her free hand hovered over the tape recorder's stop button. Suddenly, she heard a scrape and looked up in time to see Krutin's chair hit the safety glass, sending cracks spreading out like a web. Startled, Nancy dropped the phone and took an instinctive step backwards, locking eyes with him. She heard footsteps of guards approaching, and somewhere, Frank's shout registered in her chest.

Since she dropped the phone, she couldn't hear Vladislav Krutin's voice, but through the glass she could see his lips clearly form these words:

"Please give my regards to Miss Shaw."

Furious at the fear freezing her bones, Nancy threw the phone down, snatched the tape from the recorder with her pulse pounding in her ears, and stumbled immediately into Frank's embrace. She couldn't see it with her face buried into Frank's chest, but the elder Hardy shot Krutin a dark, withering glare. Nancy felt her father's hand on her shoulder and Frank's unrelenting grip on her hand as they left Krutin behind.

Once outside, she even smiled when her eyes met the bright sunset.

THE END