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Authors: Franklin W. Dixon

BOOK: The Lazarus Plot
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But when Frank II tried to follow up his advantage by jumping on top of Frank, Frank rolled out of the way and leapt to his feet. Frank II instantly followed, and once again they were circling each other warily, both breathing hard. .

"Logically, neither of us can win," said Frank II. "Unless, of course, the clinic gave us a winning edge over you."

"We'll have to find that out," said Frank, refusing to stop hunting for some way to get at his double, while carefully keeping up his guard.

But it was Frank II who made the next move a dirty move. .

He leapt back, grabbing a sherry decanter from one of the elegant tables. With one motion, he whipped out the stopper and threw the wine into Frank's and Joe's eyes, blinding them.

But even through the pain, Frank's first thought was for his brother. He turned his head to see Joe II cocking his right hand for a savage punch.

At the same moment and in the same pain, Joe instinctively checked out his brother's safety. He saw Frank II readying a killer chop that could snap Frank's neck like a brittle twig.

Frank forgot his pain as he leapt to his brother's defense, catching Joe II's right arm with a chop that paralyzed it, then following it with a chop that sent Joe II to the floor. Joe II twitched once, and then lay there unconscious.

Meanwhile Joe had jumped Frank II, who saw his fist coming a fraction too late. A moment later, Frank II was out on the floor, with Joe standing over him, blowing on his bruised knuckles.

"They forgot to program one thing into my double," Frank said. "They didn't know how often I have to get you out of trouble."

"You? Get me out of trouble?" cried Joe indignantly. "If I hadn't come to your rescue all those times with my right hand, you'd be a long-gone karate kid by now."

"Anyway," said Frank, "the clinic apparently doesn't know what it means to be brothers. Our doubles had a blind side."

"And we blind-sided them. No sweat," replied Joe, sounding a lot more cocky than he felt. He had been as close as he ever wanted to come to feeling he couldn't win a one-on-one fight.

Laura Van Appel's voice cut into their conversation. "Save the self-congratulations for later boys. Get us out of these wires. We have work to do. We have to clean out the rats' nest that spawned those two." The authority in her tone told the Hardys why she was head of the Network. She was definitely a person who expected her commands to be obeyed instantly.

"Right," said Frank, moving toward her and the Gray Man. "Hold it, Frank," said Joe sharply. "I have to talk to you about something." "Talk to me? About what?" replied Frank puzzled. "And in private," Joe added.

"Hey, what are you waiting for?" said Laura Van Appels, with a touch of annoyance.

"Come on, kids, let's not fool around." The Gray Man suddenly looked uneasy.

"Let's talk in the next room," said Joe. "But first, let's tie up our doubles and the butler, too. We don't want them coming to before we get back in here."

"I can see tying up the bad guys, but why the butler?" asked Frank.

"I'll explainin private," was all Joe would say. The serious look in his eyes made it clear that he didn't want to explain further.

"I hope you have a good reason for this," said Frank, as he and Joe set about tying up the butler, who was half-conscious now, and the doubles, who were still out like lights.

"Trust me," said Joe.

"Do I have a choice?" asked Frank.

By then both the Gray Man and his chief were fuming.

"Free us this minute!" Laura Van Appels commanded in a voice that was close to a bellow of rage.

"Wait until I get my hands on you crazy kids!" exclaimed the Gray Man.

Joe cut their voices off as he led Frank into the hallway and shut the door.

"What's with you?" asked Frank. "This better be important.”

"It is important," Joe said fervently. "Nothing could be more important. Don't you see, we can't let them know all about the Lazarus Clinic, not when Iola is still prisoner there. I don't want to think what could happen to her if the Network launched an attack on the clinic."

"But I'm sure the Network would take all possible precautions," said Frank.

"Are you kidding?" Joe cut him off. "The Network's not going to do anything that would hurt their chances of wiping out Lazarus. You know as well as I do how the Network looks at things. If Iola got hurt during their attack, they'd just call it an unavoidable trade-off."

Frank wanted to disagree-but he couldn't. That was the way the Network operated. It might be good for national security, but it left a bad taste in his mouth just as it did in Joe's. There were some things the Hardy boys couldn't swallow, and sacrificing individual human beings in the name of the greater good was one of them.

Still, he couldn't help protesting, "We could get in a lot of trouble if we didn't tell the Network everything they want to know."

“And since when has trouble started scaring you?" asked Joe. He grinned at his brother. "Besides, I would have thought figuring out a plan to get Iola out of the clinic before the Network went in after Lazarus would appeal to you. I mean, you're always saying how dull life is without challenge and adventure."

Frank grinned back. His brother knew him too well. Iola might be Joe's weakness. Figuring out how to beat dangerous odds was his. Already his mind was racing, like a computer whirring into operation.

"I might just be able to come up with a scheme . . ." he said thoughtfully, and slapped the palm of Joe's hand.

"Ouch," said Frank, playfully flexing his hand to make sure it was still intact.

"That's nothing compared to what your jaw would have felt like if you hadn't agreed," said Joe. "Nobody, including you, is going to stop me from saving Iola."

"No way could you get past my guard," said Frank. "It's lucky you didn't have to try. And even luckier that you have me to figure out how we pull this off on your own, you'd probably have broken into the clinic like you hit a football line-and gotten thrown for a dead loss."

"I won't argue, Coach," said Joe, "just so long as you get busy at the blackboard and draw up a touchdown play."

Frank had formed his plan by the time he and Joe returned to the drawing room ten minutes later.

Laura Van Appels and the Gray Man were seething.

"Cool it," said Joe, ignoring their demands to be freed. "I'm sure somebody will come along to untie you in a couple of hours or so. You must have a flock of servants in a monster mansion like this."

"We were thinking of calling the cops after we left here and having them come," said Frank. "But we figured you wouldn't want your cover blown. This way, you'll only have to explain things to the servants, and I'm sure you can come up with a good story."

"At least you're sane enough to have thought of that," said Laura Van Appels, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"You'd better believe we know what we're doing," replied Frank. "And you'd better listen hard to what we want you to do. As soon as you're able, assemble a mobile strike force that can move fast by helicopter. Then have someone in this house ready to answer the phone and relay our message to the strike force when we contact you, since Network headquarters can't be reached by phone. We'll get the number on the phone in this room. Understood?"

"You'll never get away with this!" the Gray Man roared after them as they headed out the door.

Joe paused in the doorway and said over his shoulder, "You'd better pray that we do."

Chapter 13

THE HARDYS HAD recovered their credit cards and wallets from their doubles, which made travel much easier. They took a plane from Washington to Boston. There they rented a car for an after-midnight drive to Maine. The sun was just clearing the horizon when they pulled up in front of the general store where they had bought their shovels, and then the Buick Roadmaster.

As before, the proprietor was up early, sitting in his rocking chair, sipping coffee.

As soon as he saw them, he said, "Now, if it's about that Buick, I didn't make any guarantees. You bought it fair and square, and the store policy is clearly posted." He pointed to a tiny sign half-hidden behind a stack of bags of fertilizer. It read No Refunds.

"No problem about the car. It's a beauty," Joe reassured him.

"We're here to buy something else," Frank said.

"Well, what can I do for you boys?" the storekeeper asked, instantly getting to his feet. "I can offer you a great buy on a Pontiac convertible in the garage. Nineteen forty-nine model. Let me tell you, they don't make cars like that anymore. It needs a tiny little bit of work of course. That's why I'll give you a real good price on it."

"Maybe another time," said Joe.

"Right now what we need is two shovels," added Frank.

The storekeeper gave them a look usually reserved for small children. "Two more shovels?" - he asked.

"Right," replied Frank. "We liked the first ones so much we want to give some to our friends as gifts."

"Good idea," said the storekeeper warily, keeping an uneasy distance from them. "I'm afraid, though the price has gone up a little bit." "But we just bought those shovels a few days ago," protested Frank. "Got the manufacturer's notice in the mail yesterday," said the storekeeper.

"Okay, no argument," said Joe, pulling out his wallet. "And give us some rope, too. Real strong rope, I hope inflation hasn't hit that, too."

"Matter of fact, I just got the word about that, too, in the same mail delivery," said the storekeeper.

Carrying their purchases, Frank and Joe headed back to the car. "It's not only open season on deer around here, its open season on tourists," said Frank.

"Forget about those few bucks, tightwad," replied Joe, "because it's open season on - the Lazarus Clinic for us."

Frank saw the eager, reckless look in Joe's eyes and cautioned, "Remember, don't go off half-cocked when we get there. Stick to the plan. Both plans, if necessary."

"You and your plans," said Joe. "One plan isn't enough. You have to come up with two. Myself, I'd rather play it by ear."

"We'll play it to win," Frank answered. "Developing plans and back-up plans is a good idea. So we go with plan A, and if we get into trouble, we switch to plan B. That gives us two chances instead of one to get Iola out of there." Joe shrugged. "If that's what it takes, then that's what we'll do." After parking their car and following the over grown forest trail to within a few hundred yards of the fence gate, Frank and Joe put plan A into operation.

They left the trail before they came in sight of any guard, who might be posted at the gate, worked their way through the forest until they reached a remote section of the high wire fence, and then started digging.

"I wish we could have waited' until night," Frank said as he and Joe fell into the rhythm of their work. First Joe would dig a shovelful of dirt. Then, while he was tossing it over his shoulder, Frank would take one. The dirt flew, the hole under the fence grew, and the sweat poured from both boys.

"We can't stop," said Joe, grunting with effort as he drove the blade of his shovel into the earth with all his strength. "Every minute counts. We have to take our chances and trust to luck."

"And if we run out of that, we have to trust to plan B," said Frank. "Let's hope we don't have to. We'd really need luck to get away with that one. "

It took two hours of backbreaking work before the boys managed to dig under the fence. Then, leaving their shovels behind, they wiggled through on their stomachs. They were careful not to let their bodies touch the bottom of the fence. They didn't know what kind of alarm system might be in place.

"So far, so good," said Joe, brushing himself off.

"That was the easy part," said Frank. "Remember, keep down. Somebody might 'be on lookout. "

They kept low to the ground as they made their way toward the mansion, moving from bush to bush in the overgrown garden. They passed the spot where they had left Jacques and Henry. All that remained were two empty holes.

"I wonder how long they had to wait until somebody found them," whispered Frank.

"No matter how long, it couldn't have happened to two nicer guys," Joe whispered back.

By then the boys had reached the side of the clinic. They began to check the windows.

"Just as I figured, they're all locked," said Frank after they had worked their way around the mansion. '

"The back door, too," said Joe. "Maybe we could break open one of the windows. We could throw in a rock wrapped with cloth to muffle the sound."

"Too risky," replied Frank. "This place is bound to be wired with alarms. We'll stick with the original plan. We'll go in through the front door."

Still hugging the side of the mansion, they moved to the large front door.

"Okay, you stand on one side, I'll stand on the other," said Frank. "We'll wait for somebody to come out, then jump him before he can close the door behind him. We'll tie him up and gag him, leave him in the bushes, and go in. After that, we'll do it your way. We'll play it by ear."

"All right, I'll try the door." Joe gave the big brass knob a turn, and the door swung open.

"Nothing beats helping yourself," he said, turning toward Frank to give him a triumphant grin.

But the look on Frank's face wiped his grin away.

He turned to find himself staring at Fritz and Hugo, And at the assault rifles in their hands.

He didn't have to look at Frank again to know that plan A had just come to an abrupt end. It was time for plan B-fast. "Hi, guys," he said to the Lazarus gunmen. "It's great to be back."

"Yeah, the job wasn't the snap it was supposed to be, not after those kids busted out of here and complicated things," Frank chimed in. Behind his back he dropped the coil of rope he was carrying. With an almost imperceptible motion of his foot, he shoved it under some shrubbery.

"Good thing we had a back-up plan," Joe added.

"Yeah, and it worked fine," said Frank. "We cooled the whole bunch of them." Fritz and Hugo lowered their rifles.

"The boss will be glad to hear that," said Fritz. "He was getting a little worried-not hearing from you."

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