Pawns & Enemies: A Nancy Drew and The Hardy Boys Mystery

9. Nancy

It's a wonder what you can get if you say the name Carson Drew. I'm back at my hotel putting yesterday's wears in a bag and stuffing my luggage into the trunk of my car. Since I didn't unpack anything there was no need to repack and I was easy to check out. When I arrive at the airport I don't spot the Hardys or their motorcycles. The airport is really tiny but it is an easy place for Dad's acquaintance to pick us up. It's funny, this morning the Hardys thought I was the bad guy but now they are on my side. Too bad it's not really a mystery for me to solve. All we have to do in clear up some red tape. I walk inside the building and give my name to the security guard. When I say Drew, I swear he blinks amazed, before letting me through. I wish people wouldn't treat me so differently but it does help sometimes. Like getting in places I'm not actually allowed. I sit on a bench with my suitcase and wait. I pull out my phone. George had texted me.

George: Y did U need that info????

Nancy: Trust me. It worked like a charm.

George: 😊

Nancy: I'm coming back today.

George: 😊 G2G Bess needs me

Nancy: Okay, see you later

I'll have to explain my conversation some other time because here comes Frank and Joe. I wave them over.

"Boy, that guard did not like us one bit," Joe exasperates.

"He looked at me weird too. I think it's our names."

A serious looking guard comes charging toward us and I find myself suddenly on the defense.

"Your flight is ready to board," He says in a gruff voice. I can't help but sigh and feel silly.

We all get up and grab our luggage. The man leads us to one of the small white planes. A man about twenty-eight comes around the back.

"Hello!" he chirps in a friendly voice. "I'm Forrest Greenburg!" He was a short, blond-haired man who definitely loved his plane. Paul Dean, Dad's contact, was busy and couldn't get to New York on such short notice, much less take the trip to Illinois. But Dad uses Forrest sometimes and he happened to be at this airport. So we get a fast flight. The good news is Forrest loves speed. The bad news is he gets your equivalent of speeding tickets in the air.

"Hello, Mr......umm....?" Frank starts.

"Forrest, just Forrest please!" His words come out with exclamation points no matter what he says. He is so giddy and enthusiastic it's passing off on me. Joe should get along with Forrest real well.

"You get in! I got your bags for you!" Forrest grabs some of the suitcases and pulls or carries them to the back. We all climb in. The plane was a good size with four passenger seats. Each had headphones sitting on them. Joe took a window seat and I take the other leaving Frank in the middle. I buckle and check the time on my phone.

"Can I ask you a weird question?" Frank asks.

"Sure!" I reply scrolling down my texts on my phone.

"Okay, is George a male or female?" He lets out.

I laugh. "She'd love to know you think she's a boy. George's lifelong dream is to be a boy. He full name is Georgia Fayne but that's too girly," I explain.

"How did she become such a good hacker?" He asks.

But before I could answer, Forrest steps in and starts talking.

"Welcome to my plane! Your flight should be approximately three hours and will land outside Chicago! Please stay buckled and keep your headsets on! If you want to talk to someone while on the plane push the corresponding number button! They match the seat numbers! Number one is me! Push all if it's not a private conversation Please enjoy the flight and the scenery!

With that, he gaily hops into the cockpit. That man sure is happy-go-lucky.

I pop on my headset as Forrest starts up the engine. As we fly higher, I heard Joe address Forrest, "Hey, man, is there a story behind your name? I mean, Forrest Greenburg?

"Nah, not really! My parents didn't and still don't say anything about it! Their first date was in the woods so that might have something to do with it!

"What do your parents do for a living?" I press.

"Well, my dad is in the air business as well and my mom stays home with m siblings!"

"How about you?" Joe probes.

"Me?! I fly and go to college part-time! I don't have a degree or anything but they still let me fly here anyhow!"

So he's like twenty-two maximum. He looks so much older.

"Do you have a whole lot of family?" Joe presses. Either Joe is really nosy, sucks at "small talk", is suspicious of this guy or is expecting a best friend by the end of this trip. Frank drifts to sleep as Joe continues to chat away.

"Well, there's me m dad and my mom and then five siblings ages fifteen to three at home!"

Wow! Talk about a big family for this business. Joe has ceased his questioning. I settle back to watch the scenery and think about the case. What will we find in Dad's office? And what exactly is happening at A.T.A.C.? What made them believe I was out to get them? I mean, yeah, in the long run, if my information panned out they may have their undercover secrets blown. But only if their agents really are stealing and trespassing. I glance at Joe's face. His clear blue eyes were searching the clouds as if they might answer the questions bubbling in his head. I've known the Hardy's for all of three hours and already I can tell what they are thinking. Joe's an agent and I could never picture him as a criminal. So how could other agents with a heart for crime-stopping start stealing? It makes as much sense as, as, oh a deer eating fish. It could never happen.

~~~~~~~~

Jolt! Jitter! Bump! I open my eyes. Not that I realized they were closed. Fire. Gas. That's what I smell.

"Forrest, what is that?!" I shout.

"Advertisement flag I carry and fly them sometimes! Caught gas, got on fire and is smoking! I unfurled it but it's still on fire!" He says more but I have no clue what it was. I yank off my headset and throw it on the seat. I start fumbling with the buckle. That's when Joe wakes up. Apparently, he was resting too. He pokes Frank as he unbuckles. I start looking for an escape latch. We all have the same idea. We have to get that fire out and away. I fund one leading to the roof. I crack it open and climb out. It was a slow process as I crawled to the back end of the plane. Closer to the tail I inched. It got hotter as the flames got closer. I covered my face with my shirt and leaned toward the flag. As my fingers reached the cord attaching it the plane, the plane shook enough to push me off balance and I wobbled and started to fall. I could not fall. I had to get back up. I tried to climb but I was slipping. I needed to grab something, anything to catch myself. I tried not to look down as I felt my sweaty palms lose grip and my feet start to touch the flames. Then in a moment, my fate changed. The burning flag below my feet blew away in the unforgivably harsh winds. And a strong, firm hand grabbed me. But not only did I focus on my rescuer. I saw words on the plane, written in paint. The cryptic words seemed to haunt me as I was lifted up.

YOUR GOING DOWN,

DREW + HARDYS