HDA Presents - 3 Hardys and a Princess by PiperMerlyn

The four of them had gone to the payphone situated across from the old warehouse. Frank folded his arms across his chest and glared at the warehouse. "Not the best of plans."

"But it might be the only one we've got," said Joe.

Frank turned to look at his brother and saw Joe had copied his stance again. "Stop that."

Joe looked around, puzzled. "Stop what?"

Frank heaved a sigh and looked at Rick. "How safe do you think it would be if we did walk right back in?"

Rick grunted. "Contrary to what Jordie thinks, this isn't a gang hideout. Sag Harbor is a small town. Everyone here knows everyone else all the way back to about the fifth generation. Mitch, Linc and Jude, I know for certain, are old money. The rest of them moved here within the last five to ten years."

"Except Missy," said Rachel, glancing over her shoulder at the warehouse.

Rick nodded. "Yeah, Missy just moved here a few weeks ago. She's from Hong Kong."

Joe stared at him, startled. "Hong Kong?"

"Yeah," said Rick. "I think she said, her father had died and she was moving in with a relative." Rick frowned. "Or maybe it was her mom. I don't remember. Missy keeps to herself pretty much."

"It's her aunt and she lives over in Noyac but for some reason, Missy comes here to go to school."

Joe looked over at Frank, unsettled. Frank cleared his throat, knowing Joe wasn't going to ask the question. "What's Missy's last name?"

"Thorne," said Rachel. When Rick looked over at her, surprised, Rachel shrugged. "Jordan called me the day Missy came to school to tell me about her and her weird name."

"Weird name?" asked Joe, feeling like he had just walked through the looking glass.

"Her full name is Artemis Athena Thorne. Jordan told me she told everyone to call her Missy," answered Rachel.

Frank stared at Joe, stunned. How was it possible that Bernard Thorne's daughter was here?

"Something wrong?" asked Rick, noticing the look the brothers shared.

Joe shook his head. "Nothing. Let's go." But as Rick and Rachel headed back to the warehouse, Joe didn't even take a step. "Frank.."

"I know, Joe, this is too weird. What is Thorne's daughter doing here?"

"She doesn't look anything like the girl in my dream," Joe said in a dazed voice.

Frank looked over at Joe and patted his shoulder. "That is probably a good thing. Come on."

***

"I don't think any harm will come of it, Veronica," said Fenton Hardy as he sat back in his chair. "Ella's a smart girl and she promised she won't do it again....That's not necessary. I've got it well in hand....Actually, they're in Sag Harbor looking for Rory....Veronica, what's going on?...What do you mean?"

Fenton leaned forward and frowned. "International?" He shook his head and scowled at his desk blotter, littered with printouts and diskettes. "Damn, so you think Bernard Thorne had something to do with it?...Not the first time? Damn, do you mean this is Thorne's way of taking over a company by assassination?"

He slapped the desk with his free hand and got to his feet. "Veronica, I don't appreciate being kept in the dark. Tell that agent to get up here and brief me on the real situation....Fine. I'd appreciate it if you let my sons know the situation as well. I don't want them getting in over their heads....I'll be waiting."

Fenton didn't quite slam the phone down. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He was determined to get some answers this time. He glanced out the door of his office and watched Ella for a moment. She was playing Joe's Playstation, her head bobbing to a rhythm only she could hear through her headphones.

With a sigh, he went back and sat down behind his desk. He rubbed both hands over his face and sat back in the chair. He hated being kept in the dark, however unintentionally. In two hours, Agent Willoughby would be here and he'd get his answers. He just hoped it wasn't too late.

***

"I don't like that civilians are getting involved with this," stated Agent Sloane Willoughby, sitting stiffly in the chair facing Veronica Preston's desk.

Preston studied the agent as dispassionately as she could, taking in the dark pinstriped suit, and took a deep breath. "The arrangement was made to protect the witnesses, Agent Willoughby. That was my first priority."

"Understood. Nevertheless, civilians' lives could be endangered unnecessarily."

Veronica glanced at her spotless desk and picked up a thick manila file from the corner of the desk. "Those civilians—that’s their recent track record—father and sons. Read through that and say that again."

Willoughby took the file and flipped through it. The dark hair was slicked back away from an oval face. The hazel eyes moved rapidly as the agent read the papers in the folder. Finally, Willoughby closed the folder and set it on the desk. "They are still civilians," said Willoughby in that precise British accent.

Veronica muttered something under her breath and shook her head. "Fine. You're Interpol, you deal with it now."

Sloane Willoughby stood up, adjusted the suit jacket and gave Veronica a sharp, decisive nod. "I will."

Veronica watched the Interpol agent walk out of her office and resisted the temptation to throw a paperweight at the door. She'd only damage the door. She shook her head and sighed. Hopefully, she wouldn't have to deal with Interpol ever again.

Sloane Willoughby left the police station, strode over to a small compact car and got in. After a brief glance at a map, the agent made it back to the hotel. Willoughby paused long enough to pack the few things back in the black suitcase before checking out and heading for the interstate.

A moment later, Willoughby consulted a file and veered first for an old dilapidated warehouse, just in time to see four young people walk into the warehouse. Willoughby glanced down at the suit and sighed. That would never work.

Willoughby headed for the nearest gas station, got the key from the attendant and disappeared into the bathroom. Sloane unbuttoned the jacket and slipped it off, folding it into a small bundle before slipping it into the suitcase. As each article of clothing came off, it was folded the same way; then new clothes came out. Sloane looked in the mirror and finally ran fingers through the dark hair. It tumbled out of its knot and fell in soft waves past the shoulders.

Sloane Willoughby rolled her shoulders and then looked at her reflection. Gone was the stiff, formal Interpol agent. She added a few pieces of jewelry, including the small hoop she wore high on her ear but only when she wasn't on duty. Now it was time to blend in.

She left the bathroom, returned the key to the startled attendant and headed back to her car. The only daughter of a now retired British ambassador, Sloane had loved adventure all her life and somehow it just had seemed natural to join Interpol. She hadn't expected that Interpol would be so willing for her to work for them. Her main asset, according to Interpol, was that she didn't look her age. She looked about ten years younger than her actual age.

She stood by the car a moment. At the moment, her youthful appearance just might get her in to that warehouse and she could find Rory Kingsley herself and resolve the problem once and for all.

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Disclaimer

The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The authors have just borrowed them for an adventure or two. The authors promise to put the boys back when they are done with them. The authors do claim copyright to the original characters in this story. Please do not borrow original characters without express permission of the authors.