The Pacific Conspiracy (7 page)

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Authors: Franklin W. Dixon

BOOK: The Pacific Conspiracy
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"Wait a minute," Frank said. "I've got a better idea. Boris will pull."

The Assassin glared as Endang handed him the end of the rope. She held on to the line, too, feeding it to Boris as he began pulling Joe up.

Ten seconds later Frank heard his brother come up out of the water, coughing and gasping for air. Even though he wanted to turn and make sure Joe was okay he kept his gaze fixed on Boris the entire time.

"I've got you," he heard Endang say. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her grab hold of Joe and lift him onto the edge of the canal.

"Let go of the rope," Frank told Boris. "And step back."

In one motion Boris tossed the end of the rope at Frank's face and dived to his left, into the forest.

Endang was after him like a shot. She returned a minute later, empty-handed and out of breath.

"He got away," she said, bending over to catch her breath, her hands on her knees. "I think that little dive into the canal took more out of me than I thought."

"Good riddance," Joe said as Endang untied his hands and broke the cement to get his feet free. "The guy was nothing but dead weight anyway."

Frank and Endang groaned simultaneously.

"Quick," Frank said. "Help me get out of this bucket before he makes any more bad jokes."

 

***

 

Four hours later Joe didn't even feel like smiling, much less making more jokes.

He poured himself another cup of tea and sank back into the plush hotel room couch. Endang sat next to him while Frank paced back and forth - across the living room of the suite Colonel Mangkupradja had arranged for them. Joe couldn't understand why his brother was walking around. His feet must've felt the same as Joe's, he figured. They'd had to smash the concrete-filled buckets with the shovel to break free, and that had hurt.

It didn't hurt as much as blowing the case did, though.

After they'd gotten free Endang had walked up the main road, found a phone, and called for help. The police, led by Colonel Mangkupradja, had arrived shortly thereafter and taken Bob into custody.

Meanwhile, another contingent of officers had raided Krinski's mansion, only to discover that no one was home. The house was deserted, as was the building out back. The computers had been wiped. Even the dragon was gone.

And the Hatta had left port.

Mangkupradja relayed the bad news to them as they headed downtown in his staff car. Then he dropped them off at the hotel to shower and change, promising to return shortly. That had been almost an hour before.

Boris must have gotten back to Krinski's Pretty quickly to enable the Assassins to move so fast, Joe thought. Nwali's terrorists must have been ready to move instantly, which meant that the bomb was close to being finished.

Now they'd lost their only lead to the terrorists.

All at once Joe stood and started pacing next to his brother.

Just then there was a knock at the door, and two men walked in. One was Colonel Mangkupradja. The other was the Gray Man.

He was the same as always, unassuming, unnoticeable. Maybe there were a few extra worry lines around his eyes, Frank thought, but considering what was happening, that wasn't surprising.

"Hello, boys," Gray said, taking a seat on the couch. "Ali" - he indicated Colonel Mangkupradja - "has filled me in on what's happened. Good work."

"Good work?" Frank asked incredulously. "We've lost the Assassins."

The Gray Man shook his head. "You've flushed them from hiding, probably disrupted their schedule. It's only a matter of time now till we find them."

Frank hoped so.

"I have some other news you might be interested in," the Gray Man said. "Forrester's disappeared. Jumped bail."

Frank's eyes widened. That was a name he hadn't expected to hear again. Hank Forrester had been chief of security for Eddings Air in Atlanta, Georgia. The Hardys had discovered that he'd been involved with the baggage theft ring. For reasons that they'd never been able to establish, he had sabotaged the plane Frank and Joe had been flying into Atlanta, almost killing them in the process. Whether or not Forrester was connected to the Assassins was a question they hadn't been able to answer.

Someone else knocked at the door.

"Come in," the Gray Man called.

A white-haired man, lean and tanned, stepped into the room and shut the door behind him.

"News on the Hatta," he said. "She registered her next destination with the harbormaster here in Djakarta as the island of Krakatau."

Mangkupradja spoke up. "That's a very small port. I can set up a blockade that will catch anything larger than a rowboat trying to sneak in."

"Do it," the Gray Man snapped. He spoke to the white-haired man. "Get Deevers and Channing to coordinate with the colonel. I want them in Krakatau monitoring the situation."

The man was out the door almost before the Gray Man finished speaking. Mangkupradja, nodding goodbye, was a step behind him.

"Krakatau," Frank said thoughtfully. "That's very interesting."

"Why?" the Gray Man asked.

"You may know it better as Krakatoa," Frank said.

"The volcano!" Joe exclaimed.

"Exactly." Frank nodded. "It erupted about a hundred years ago, in the biggest explosion of the century."

"Krinski," the Gray Man said. "This is what I was afraid of."

"Hold on a minute," Endang said. "You've lost me."

"Remember that simulation I was telling you about, on Krinski's computer?" Frank said. "Where an explosion triggered a massive seismological disturbance?"

"You're suggesting that they've found a way to trigger a volcanic eruption?" she asked.

Frank nodded, thinking back to the earthquakes in Alaska and the equations Krinski had had him run on dropping a small, heavy object through a viscous fluid. The Assassins were planning to drop a nuclear bomb into lava.

"Maybe not a volcanic eruption, but some kind of seismic disturbance."

"And Krakatau would be the perfect place to do it," the Gray Man said.

"Possibly," Frank said. "I don't know, though. It feels too easy."

"It's a place to start, if nothing else," the Gray Man said, peering at the Hardys closely. "You two look like you could use some sleep."

"Now that you mention it," Frank said, yawning, "it has been a long day."

"Why don't you hit the sack? Endang, your room is down the hall." He walked to the door. "Good night, boys. I'll talk to you in the morning. Good night," he said to Endang.

He shut the door after himself.

"I'm hungry," Joe said, clapping his hands together. "Anybody for room service?"

Endang yawned. "Count me out. I think I am going to get some sleep. Besides, they stop serving at midnight." She set her teacup down on the coffee table in front of the couch and stood. "Good night."

"Good night," Joe called after her.

After she shut the door he turned to Frank. "We could raid the hotel kitchen," he said.

Frank didn't even respond - he just glared. "Come on, let's get some sleep," he finally said.

"All right," Joe said reluctantly, "but this means a big breakfast tomorrow."

 

***

 

After they woke, though, Joe wasn't too hungry.

Along with a stack of new clothes piled high on the coffee table, he found a note.

Frank and Joe,

I appreciate your efforts on your country's behalf.

It was signed by Arthur Gray. Sitting underneath it were two plane tickets.

"He's sending us back to the States!" Joe exclaimed. "Who does that guy think he is? This is our case!"

Frank didn't say anything, though he was just as upset. Both boys liked to finish what they started.

"Come on," Frank said. "We're getting out of here."

"You said it," Joe replied, putting on the new clothes that had been left for him. He stalked to the door, Frank a step behind, and threw it open.

Two men were standing there waiting for them. One was the white-haired man who had told the Gray Man about Krakatau the night before.

"Good morning," he said. "I'm Agent Drake."

The other man looked barely out of high school and had close-cropped reddish hair. "And I'm Rivers. We'll be escorting you to your flight." Both men smiled at the Hardys, and Frank forced himself to smile back.

"We'll be ready right after we get some breakfast," he said, and shut the door.

"Well, it looks as if the Gray Man is taking no chances. He's making sure we don't stick around," Frank said.

"We might as well eat, then," Joe said.

After breakfast Rivers and Drake led them downstairs to a waiting limousine, which took them to the airport. The two agents sat directly opposite the brothers in the waiting area by their gate.

Frank was sitting next to an elderly couple. "The kids' presents," he heard the woman say. "We have to get them out of that storage locker." She frowned slightly. "Do you still have the key?"

"I've got it. Don't worry," the man said. He reached into his pocket. "I'll go get them. If I can figure out how this crazy things works."

He held out his hand. In it was a thick white plastic card.

Frank couldn't believe it - the card was an exact duplicate of the one he had taken from Butch before he died.

Chapter 11

The elderly man got out of his seat and began walking down the concourse.

"Hey," Frank said to Rivers. "I need a candy bar."

Joe stared at him strangely. "How can you still be hungry after all that breakfast?"

"I'm a growing boy," Frank replied. "Can I please go get a candy bar?" he asked again.

Agent Rivers frowned. "Drake will go with you."

"Come on," Frank protested. "You've got my brother here. You really think I'm going to run away by myself?"

"You might," Rivers said.

Frank reached into his back pocket. "Here's my wallet and my passport. Now I won't be able to go anywhere." He slapped the two items into Rivers's lap. "Now can I please go without one of you guys hanging all over me?"

"Whoa," Rivers said. He smiled and held up his hands in mock protest. "I didn't know it was that important to you. Go ahead and get two candy bars if you want." Then his smile disappeared. "Just don't miss the plane."

"I won't," Frank said. He got up out of his seat and hurried down the concourse, past a duty-free shop and a bookstore, looking for the elderly man. There was no sign of him.

Frank was about to give up when he turned the corner. There was the man, heading toward a roped-off section of lockers. A security guard was sitting at a desk next to them. Hanging over the lockers was a sign that said, in both English and Indonesian:

LONG-TERM STORAGE

EXPERIMENTAL CARD-KEY LOCKERS

PLEASE SHOW IDENTIFICATION

 

As Frank watched, the man handed the guard the white plastic card he was holding. The guard Pushed it into an electronic reader on the desk, said something to the old man, and waved him Past.

Frank stepped up and handed the guard his card.

"A-forty-three," the man said without looking up.

There were maybe several hundred lockers in the area. Each had a magnetic bar-code reader instead of the usual lock. Frank found number A43 and slid the card into the reader.

The locker popped open. Inside was a small metal case. With his back to the guard Frank pulled it out and flipped the lid.

A piece of brightly colored cloth lay inside, covering the contents. Frank pulled the cloth away, revealing a huge stack of cash - Indonesian rupees and American dollars - and a passport.

He opened the passport. It had Butch's picture, but carried the name Anton Lee. Probably another alias. There was also a piece of paper folded in the passport, with three English words written on it. "Bali" and "Hotel Sanur."

Frank smiled for the first time all day. They weren't off this case yet.

 

***

 

When he got back to the waiting area the plane was boarding and Rivers was furious.

"Where have you been?" he demanded, charging up to Frank as soon as he caught sight of him. "Don't tell me it takes fifteen minutes to buy a candy bar!"

"Relax," Frank said. "I'm here now." He reached into the knapsack he'd bought in the gift shop, pulled out a big chocolate bar, and handed it to Rivers. "That's for you. And here's one for you, too," he said, handing another bar to Drake.

Rivers handed Frank back his passport and wallet. "And those are for you. Have a safe trip home."

Frank joined his brother in line.

" Where'd you get the money for that knapsack?" Joe asked.

"I'll tell you in a minute," Frank said, a smile frozen to his face.

He gave his ticket to the gate agent and turned to see Rivers and Drake still watching them. He raised his hand and waved goodbye.

"We have to get off the plane without them seeing us," he said to Joe as they walked down the sealed gangway to the aircraft. Then he told his brother about the white plastic card and what he'd found in Butch's locker.

"Bali," Joe said. "That's where Nwali's from."

"Exactly." Frank nodded.

"Welcome aboard," the flight attendant said, checking Frank's ticket. "You're in the righthand aisle, almost all the way back. And you're next to him," she said to Joe.

The two hustled down the aisle, right past their seats, and to the rear of the airplane. While Joe made a show of waiting to use one of the lavatories back there, Frank studied the foodservice elevator.

Frank knew that the ground crew used the elevators to lift the food up to the main cabin. They were ridiculously easy to use, and they were big enough to hold two people.

"What's the plan?" Joe asked. "Do we ask them to let us off over Bali?"

"You have so little faith in me," Frank said, shaking his head. "What do you think I have in this knapsack?"

He let Joe take a peek.

"You're a devious fellow, Frank Hardy."

"Never mind the compliments," Frank said. "Ready?"

Joe nodded. "Ready."

"Snake!" Frank cried out, and he threw down the rubber toy he'd bought in the gift shop.

A dark-haired woman holding a baby in her arms took one look, screamed, and fainted. The flight attendant unloading the foodservice elevator turned to help her. Within a few seconds the cabin was pandemonium.

Frank pulled out the cart in the foodservice elevator, bent down, and stepped inside. Joe squeezed in next to him and shut the door. It was a very tight fit.

Frank reached around his brother and pressed the start button. They began to move downward.

"Now I know why plane food always looks so flat," Joe whispered.

The elevator stopped, and Frank pushed the door open and climbed out. He and Joe were standing on the runway directly beneath the plane. It was very loud and very windy.

A man in orange coveralls holding two yellow batons was looking at them strangely.

"Wrong plane," Frank said, backing away.

The man just stood there, mouth open.

"Yeah," Joe echoed. "Nice meeting you, though."

The man suddenly burst into a torrent of Indonesian and started waving frantically to another group of similarly dressed people about a hundred yards away.

The Hardys ran.

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