Speed Times Five (13 page)

Frank raced toward Joe, knowing he'd never get there in time.

Pierre leaned over the control column of his SeaZoom, making a final correction to ensure that he'd hit Joe full on.

At the last second, Joe dove under the water, kicking for all he was worth.

Pierre passed harmlessly over the younger Hardy's
head. Joe resurfaced a safe distance behind his antagonist just as Frank barreled up to him.

“Hop on!” Frank said, extending his hand. The elder Hardy slowed down his SeaZoom just enough to grab Joe.

Joe scrambled aboard as Pierre and Jacques regrouped and swung their jetboats toward the Hardys once more.

“We can't outrun them with my extra weight,” Joe said.

“Then we'll have to outthink them,” Frank replied grimly.

As the brothers turned, Pierre and Jacques came up with a new plan. Maneuvering close together, Pierre tossed one end of his rope to his partner. Jacques grabbed hold and the two of them stretched the rope between them like a clothesline. They sped straight toward the brothers, holding the rope at neck height.

Frank gunned the throttle and headed right toward the thugs.

“Frank,” Joe said, “I don't think we can get around them, either.”

“I know,” Frank replied. “So we'll just have to go
through.
When I give the signal, help me skip the SeaZoom into the air.”

“You want to go up?”

Frank nodded and a grim smile tugged at his mouth. “Only long enough to get some momentum for going down.”

“I get you,” Joe said, “but it's pretty risky.”

As the villains bore in with their deadly clothesline, Frank said, “So is racing. Ready? Now!”

He and Joe both rode up on the machine, lifting its nose out of the water momentarily. In the next instant Frank thrust the nose down and the machine dove.

As the line streaked toward them, the SeaZoom crashed down, burying the front of the machine in the chilly water. The rest of the sleek boat followed, taking the Hardys with it. The rope passed harmlessly over the brothers' heads as the villains whizzed past.

With the air intakes submerged, the engine of the Hardys' jetboat sputtered and nearly died. Then the craft's natural buoyancy brought them back to the surface and the motor roared to life. Frank spun them around toward their attackers.

“That was close!” Joe said.

“I figured if it worked for one of us, it'd work for both of us,” Frank replied.

“I'm glad we practiced that trick last summer vacation,” Joe said. “Though I never thought we'd use it on a case.” He pulled off his helmet and shook the water from his blond hair.

“Why'd you take your helmet off?” Frank asked.

“Get me close to Pierre,” Joe said, “and you'll see.”

The brothers' stunt had confused the thugs. Jacques and Pierre discovered they couldn't wheel around effectively while holding the rope. Jacques dropped his end, and both villains began to turn back toward the Hardys.

Frank cut his SeaZoom toward Pierre as the thug reeled in his rope and was turning to make another pass at the brothers.

As the Hardys swung in close, Joe threw his helmet at Pierre. The thug ducked, and the motion threw him off balance. As Pierre's SeaZoom slowed, Joe leaped from the back of Frank's watercraft onto the seat behind Pierre.

Pierre turned in his seat but not fast enough. Joe slammed his fist into the thug's midsection. The air rushed out of Pierre's lungs. Joe followed up with a clout to the villain's jaw. Pierre's head flew back, and he sailed off the SeaZoom and splashed down into the chilly water of Lake Champlain. His life vest kept the unconscious villain from sinking.

Joe scrambled forward and took the craft's controls. He jockeyed the machine next to Frank as the other thug barreled toward them.

The next moment, though, the truth of the situation sank into Jacques's mind. Realizing he was now outnumbered, Jacques slowed his watercraft and began to turn.

Frank smiled. “It would have been smarter for them if they'd taken off when your boat got swamped,” he said. “They could have outrun us easily, then. Now, though. . . !”

Joe smiled in return. “Let's get him!”

The brothers streaked forward as Jacques turned tail and ran.

“Herd him that way,” Joe yelled, pointing.

Frank nodded, and the two of them zipped along either side of the thug, corralling him the way they wanted him to go.

Jacques glanced back as he ran, fear in his eyes. He didn't see Joe's abandoned SeaZoom until it was too late. The watercraft sat half-submerged in the water, just where it had been when Pierre had nearly run over Joe.

Jacques's SeaZoom hit the obstacle as though it were hitting a brick wall. The boat stopped suddenly, flipped in the air, and threw Jacques from the saddle. The villain somersaulted and crashed into the chilly water. The blow knocked Jacques unconscious, but his life vest brought him to the surface and kept his head above water.

“What goes around comes around,” Joe said with a grin. “You know, I almost hate to call water rescue for these yahoos.”

Frank chuckled. “Let's call it in and then get that guy who stole Curtis's boat,” he said.

They made the radiophone call to the authorities as they sped down the lake, looking for some sign of the other craft.

“He's got a really big start on us,” Joe called to his brother. “We'll be lucky to catch this guy.”

“That's assuming he kept going,” Frank said. “I'm betting that he'd abandon the SeaZooms and use some other, faster, form of transportation once he's gotten what he wants.”

Joe frowned. “Then we'll still be lucky to catch him. Throttle up and keep your eyes peeled!”

They sped north for another five minutes, skirting the coast of Grand Isle, looking for any sign of the black racer. As they passed a large, forested island on the right, Joe pointed.

“There he is!”

The intruder's SeaZoom was pulled up on a strip of sand along the island's shore. Curtis's stolen watercraft bobbed in the water next to the other SeaZoom.

The brothers pulled into the shallows and hopped off their jetboats. They splashed over to the two crafts. The equipment hatch under the seat of Curtis's SeaZoom had been thrown open and its contents emptied.

“I think it's a safe bet that that guy found what he was looking for,” Frank said.

“Let's just hope he hasn't gone too far with it,” Joe replied. “Come on,” he said, pointing to a line of tracks in the sand. “It looks like he went inland.”

Experience had prepared the brothers to track a person through the woods in broad daylight, and the Hardys had no difficulty picking out the intruder's trail. Frank left his helmet behind so that it wouldn't hinder his vision, and he'd left his walkie-talkie behind because Joe had lost his when his SeaZoom sank. The brothers took their emergency radiophones, though, so they could summon the authorities if they found the bandit.

“How could he get off this island?” Joe asked as they pushed through the foliage. “Do you think he has another boat stashed somewhere?”

“Could be,” Frank said. “Leaving the boat he used to commit the crime behind would be a smart idea. Or maybe someone's picking him up.”

“Either way, let's hope we find the guy before he makes his connection,” Joe said. He rounded a big pine tree and then stopped and motioned for Frank to do the same. “Hold on,” he whispered.

“What?” Frank asked, coming to a halt.

“Listen.”

Both brothers stood silently and listened for a few moments.

“I can hear someone talking,” Frank said, “but I can't make out what he's saying.”

“There's only one voice, though,” Joe whispered. “If it's the same guy we trailed in Montreal, maybe he's on his cell phone again.”

“If he is,” Frank said, creeping forward cautiously, “he's going to find out that Pierre and Jacques have been disconnected.”

Joe smiled and crept silently after his brother. They moved through the brush as quickly as they could while making almost no noise. The going was slower than either of them would have liked, but they hoped that moving silently would give them the element of surprise over their foe.

As they neared the other side of the island, the woods opened into a wide clearing. On the far side of the clearing, the Hardys saw water glistening beyond the woods. Standing at the opposite edge of the clearing was a man dressed in a black leather jacket and jeans. A large backpack dangled from his
left shoulder. A black racing helmet covered his head and he had a cell phone pressed close to the side of the helmet. Just as Joe had surmised, the man was talking on the phone.

“. . . went perfectly,” the man said, his voice muffled by the helmet. “Yeah. I'm at the arranged spot now. I'll see you when you get here.”

As the bandit spoke, Joe and Frank crept forward across the clearing. The brothers moved apart as they went, hoping to catch the criminal from both sides.

When they were within twenty feet of their quarry, the man hung up his cell phone.

Suddenly, he spun. He held a gun in his gloved right hand.

He pointed the weapon at the brothers.

“Take another step,” he said, “and you're dead.”

15 The Final Deception

The bandit chuckled. “You guys are quiet,” he said, “but this helmet doesn't make me completely deaf. What does it take to get rid of you two, anyway?”

“More than you and your thugs have got,” Joe said. “You'll never get away with this, you know.” Try as he might, the younger Hardy couldn't make out the bandit's face beneath the dark-visored helmet. The faceplate muffled the man's voice as well, effectively disguising it.

This time the criminal actually laughed. “I've
already
gotten away with it,” he said. “You two are a minor inconvenience, at best. Just a rest stop on the way to my big payday. What did you do with Pierre and Jacques, anyway?”

“Left them floating in the lake,” Frank replied.

“Where the cops can pick them up,” Joe added.

“Well,” the man said, “I'm impressed—but not too impressed. Jacques and Pierre were expendable anyway.”

“Just like Curtis, Collins, and Frid?” Joe asked.

The man in black nodded. “Yeah, just like those three.”

“They didn't really have any idea what you're up to, did they?” Frank said.

“No more than you boys do,” the man replied.

“You'd be surprised what we know,” Joe said.

“For instance, it's hardly worth all this trouble to smuggle a few prescription meds from Canada into the U.S.,” Frank said. “But experimental meds—ones based on secret formulas, that's a whole different story.”

“We heard the reports about the pharmaceutical plant break-in and the stolen medicine on the news,” Joe said. “They didn't seem to have anything to do with the race, so it took us a while to put two and two together.”

“You guys are pretty smart after all,” the man said. “But not smart enough to beat me at this late stage of the game. My ride will be here any minute, and you two are going to sit tight until it comes.”

“A question before you go,” Frank said. “How many of the race's accidents did you arrange?”

The man chuckled. “The ski lift, your bike and Victoria Clemenceau's, poor Georges's trouble—of course—and Baldwin's boat.”

“Of course,” Joe added, nodding slowly. “And the rest were merely normal accidents?”

“You've got it,” the man said. “My employer figured that if the race officials had enough trouble to keep them busy, they wouldn't tumble to our smuggling plan. And now that I've answered your questions,” he said, waving the gun at the brothers, “I want you to take off your emergency radios and throw them against that tree.” He indicated a big pine at the edge of the clearing. “That way, I won't have you making any trouble for me and my ride.”

“They'll catch you anyway, you know,” Frank said.

“I doubt it,” the man replied. “They don't have any more idea who I am than you do.”

Frank and Joe exchanged a quick glance, but the man didn't notice.

“Now, get rid of those phones,” the helmeted man said. “I'd rather not shoot you—but I will if I have to. You can leave this island sadder and wiser, or you can leave on stretchers. Your choice.” He leveled the gun first at one Hardy and then at the other.

Frank and Joe unhooked the emergency phones from their belts. As they did so, Frank glanced at Joe and narrowed his eyes slightly. Joe nodded almost imperceptibly. Frank threw his phone at the tree, hard and fast. As it whizzed by the bandit, the man flinched slightly.

In that split second, Joe threw his phone directly into the criminal's faceplate. The visor shattered, momentarily blinding the man in black. The villain fired wildly, his shot hitting the ground to the left of Frank's feet.

Frank sprinted forward and kicked the gun out of the bandit's hand. His sight obscured by the broken visor, the villain staggered backward. Joe swung at his chin as the bandit backed away, but the man ducked his head just in time.

He ripped off his helmet and threw it at Joe. Joe dodged but not fast enough. The helmet caught him in the gut and knocked the wind out of him. He collapsed to his knees.

Frank pressed his attack with another kick and a karate chop, but the man blocked them both.

“Roger Baldwin!” Frank said.

Baldwin snarled at the brothers and dropped the backpack so he could move better. “You should have made it easy on yourselves,” Baldwin said. “Now I'm gonna have to hurt you—permanently.” He kicked for Frank's knee, but the older Hardy dodged out of the way.

“Big talk for a washed-up former triathlete,” Joe said, rising to his feet once more.

“I've still got plenty to take care of you two,” Baldwin replied. He threw a punch at Frank and then spun and kicked at Joe's head.