Past and Present Danger Read online

  Frank began moving cautiously down the alley toward the open window he had spotted. Only the overhead lamp cast any light into the alley.

  Frank knew he and Joe had been on their own before, but something about fighting cyber-ghosts spooked him more than he wanted to admit. They had invaded his home and threatened his family and friends. Their activities made them seem all-seeing and all-powerful.

  Frank reached the window. A foul odor rose from the stack of crates and boxes next to it. The boxes were covered with dark greasy stains, and rubble was scattered all around them.

  Frank turned his attention to the window. The sill was six feet up, and the window was tall, narrow, and opened inward. I can probably just squeeze through, he told himself.

  He reached up and placed his hands on the gritty stone windowsill. Just as he was about to climb up, Frank felt a blow to his ribs. The punch caused his knees to go weak. Before he could recover, a powerful arm locked around his throat and began to squeeze the air—the very life—from his body.

  15

  Subject Neutralized

  Frank shot his elbow back into his attacker’s midsection three times in rapid succession. It hit rock-hard abdominal muscles and barely caused the man to grunt. His grip tightened on Frank’s throat, and the older Hardy brother thought it might be all over—until he heard a loud thud.

  Slowly the man’s grip released, and his arm fell away from Frank, following its owner down to the concrete.

  Gasping for air, Frank turned to see his brother standing over the unconscious form of Rudy. Joe held what was left of a wooden two-by-four in his hand.

  Joe smiled. “From the arm that gave our softball team sixteen home runs last season,” he whispered. Joe helped Frank to his feet and away from the window.

  “How’d you know I was in trouble?” Frank gasped.

  “Lucky,” Joe replied. “The other side of this building is a solid brick wall. No windows or doors. So I came back this way, figuring to follow you in, and there was Rudy. The rest is poetry.”

  Frank recovered quickly, and the boys used their belts to secure Rudy and hide him behind the crates. “What was that you stuffed in his mouth?” Joe asked as they approached the window again.

  Frank looked at the rags and muck in the stack of crates and trash. “You don’t want to know.”

  Joe shuddered, then followed Frank in through the window.

  They landed quietly in the cavernous darkness. It’s like some weird cave, Joe thought to himself.

  The inside was one large room about the size of a city block. Pipes, crates, and pillars of varying sizes created strange structures and shadows along the floor. Chains, pulleys, and cables hung from the ceilings and tracks like stalactites. Moonlight barely filtered in through the dirty wire mesh windows, which ran along three sides of the building. A series of catwalks crisscrossed the two-story building. They gave access to metal platforms suspended above old and now discarded machinery.

  The only electric light that was on seemed to be focused in the center of the room. But the boys couldn’t see anything because of the machinery and crates stacked here and there. Some stacks rose fifteen feet in the air.

  Joe checked the dial on his luminous watch. They had only five minutes left in which to stop the thieves. Slowly they crept toward the source of the light and soon came to the center of the room. It was a wide-open space, thirty feet across. In the center stood a metal platform about ten feet square and eight feet high. Two sets of metal stairs rose to the top of the platform, connected to metal railings that ran almost all the way around.

  Positioned on the platform were two short tables and two swivel chairs. Desk lamps were clamped to each table. A complex array of electronic equipment had been stacked on the table and was wired to two keyboards and computer monitors. The screens glowed a soft blue. Two men, their backs to Frank and Joe, were working hard at them. A third man, Nick, was standing near them, munching away on a jelly doughnut.

  Frank’s eyes followed a coaxial cable that ran up from the equipment, past the catwalk above, and out through the skylight.

  “I bet there’s a miniature satellite dish on the roof,” he whispered to Joe. “They capture the information they want, then beam it to another satellite dish.”

  “Except that one is in outer space, and from there they can beam the information anywhere in the world.” Joe’s face tightened with anger. “And this time they’re after our national defense secrets.”

  “Worth millions to any foreign power.”

  “Well, they should have stuck to corporate secrets,” Joe said. He clinched his fists. “Let’s do this.”

  Frank grabbed Joe’s arm. “Wait.”

  “Congressman Reynolds and Senator Ogilvy just put through their call to Washington,” one of the two men on the platform said. “You ready?”

  Frank and Joe recognized the voice.

  The second man leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head. “I’m always ready, Harlan,” he said.

  Harlan Dean jumped up, grabbed the man by his shirtfront, and pulled him to his feet. “This deal is worth fifty million dollars to me, and I won’t let you louse it up!”

  “It’s cool, it’s cool,” the scrawny man pleaded. “I’m ready. Honest.”

  “We’ve got to cut the connection before they begin transmitting,” Frank told his brother.

  Desperately they looked around for some way to sabotage the operation. Frank’s gaze stopped on the metal door, and a plan began to form. Joe’s plan had also crystallized. He had spotted the stairs that led up to the catwalk.

  The boys quickly discussed their ideas, then separated.

  Cautiously Frank slipped out through the metal door and approached the Land Rover. As he remembered, the windows were rolled down, so he knew the perimeter alarm was not on. Frank slipped inside the vehicle and went to work.

  Inside the warehouse, Joe had to move more cautiously and slowly to reach the stairs unheard. He hoped the old metal would not creak or rattle as he mounted the steps in the semidarkness.

  “The Security Council is on the line,” the scrawny technician told Harlan Dean. “They’re asking how Ogilvy’s wife is.”

  Joe eased up one flight of steps and stopped when Nick started to leave the platform.

  “Where are you going?” Harlan asked him.

  “Rudy’s been gone too long,” Nick replied. “How long’s it take to get coffee? The doughnut place is just across the street.”

  “Stay put,” Dean snarled. “We’re going live in two minutes, and I don’t want any foul-ups.”

  Nick grumbled as he resumed his place on the platform. Harlan Dean sat down at the second keyboard and began clicking away.

  Joe looked at his watch. Frank would be ready in less than thirty seconds. He had to get into position. Moving as quickly as he dared, Joe eased out onto the catwalk and moved forward inch by inch.

  “They’re beginning to discuss the U.S. defense package,” the technician announced.

  “Actually,” Harlan said, chuckling, “they’re about to discuss my financial security for the rest of my life.”

  “How’d you explain not being there when the talks started?” Nick asked.

  “Security sweep,” Dean replied. “I’m out cruising the neighborhood for any random transmission signals.”

  “Smart,” Nick replied.

  “No,” Harlan Dean said as he typed a command on the keyboard. “Genius. Let’s do it.” He hit the return key.

  The garage door exploded inward, and a thirty-thousand-dollar Land Rover roared through it and into the warehouse. Crates and boxes flew in every direction.

  The technician fell backward from his chair, striking his head on the hard metal railing. He didn’t move. Nick stumbled into some of the equipment, then leaped from the platform, rushing toward the disturbance.

  Instantly, Joe Hardy leaped forward along the catwalk, grabbed the cable, and yanked it with all his strength. The cable br
oke loose from the roof and dropped to the platform below.

  Harlan Dean saw it and reached for the service revolver on his belt as he spun around. The security chief looked up in time to see Joe Hardy dropping toward him from the platform above. The younger Hardy landed on Dean with tremendous force, slamming the man to the floor and knocking him out.

  “Thanks for the padding, buddy,” Joe said. He leaped to his feet and began disabling the equipment.

  Nick reached the totaled Land Rover, fully expecting to find his partner slumped behind the seat. “Rudy! Rudy, what’s wrong with—”

  Frank stepped from behind some large pipes and lashed out ith a karate kick to Nick’s knee. The man went down but tried to get up again. Frank followed through with a powerful elbow to the man’s jaw. Nick groaned but did not move.

  “You okay, Joe?” Frank called out.

  “No problem!”

  Suddenly the alley outside was alive with the flashing lights and sounds of people leaping from cars and running.

  Joe and Frank whirled toward the noise, fearful that more of Harlan Dean’s associates had arrived.

  They were happy to see the police come through the wrecked doorway, led by their father. Close behind him were Clayton Silvers and Aunt Gertrude.

  Joe leaped down from the platform and ran toward Frank.

  “Are you boys all right?” Fenton asked as he reached them.

  “Sure, Dad,” Joe replied. “But how—”

  “How many times have I told you boys not to go putting yourselves in danger?” Aunt Gertrude scolded. “I—uh—we were so worried about you.”

  “We’re sorry, Aunt Gertrude,” Frank apologized. “But how’d you guys find us?”

  “I’ve been suspicious of Harlan for a couple of days,” Fenton told them. He watched the police run past them and begin to secure Dean and his associates. “Right after I found out he’d asked the hotel manager to keep an eye on Clayton—even before the break-in.”

  “You knew about that?” Joe exclaimed.

  “Earlier tonight I guessed that he was the security consultant for several of the places that were robbed,” Clayton Silvers added. “And then I put it all together, and it was the only thing that made any sense. I contacted the police, who contacted your father. The police put out an APB on my car, which you boys were driving. Once it was located we were golden. Your dad had hooked up with your aunt back at the house—and here we all are.”

  “So, you didn’t need us on this case,” Frank said somewhat disappointed.

  “On the contrary,” Clayton said. “We had no idea how he was going to do it, or where.”

  “If you boys hadn’t nailed this location,” Fenton admitted, “some serious defense information might have leaked out.”

  A police officer brought Harlan Dean over to Fenton and the group. The bruised and disgruntled security chief glared at Fenton and Clayton, then glanced at Frank and Joe. “I didn’t figure on you two,” he grumbled.

  “No one ever does,” Fenton told him coldly. He then turned to his sister. “We Hardys are a persistent breed.”

  “I hear that,” Clayton agreed. “Loud and clear.”

  “We sank your career, but good,” Harlan snarled.

  “Or just gave me a Pulitzer prize-winning story,” Clayton replied calmly. “Gotcha!”

  “Hold that pose!”

  The group saw a flash go off, then turned to see Darryl running up to them. He snapped another picture.

  “Front-page stuff!” he exclaimed. “My ticket to fame!”

  Clayton Silvers laughed. “Be careful what you wish for, brother,” he said. “Be real careful.”

  16

  All Clear

  The next morning the sky was clear with large billowy clouds that reflected a lemon yellow sun.

  In the Hardys’ kitchen, the sweet aroma of waffles, bacon, coffee, and fresh strawberries mingled with the sounds of cheerful talk and laughter. It was a breakfast party. Family and friends were together to celebrate a great victory.

  Fenton Hardy sat at the kitchen table with Tony Prito, Phil Cohen, Darryl, Callie, and Iola. Fenton was savoring his first cup of morning coffee while the kids were enjoying their second helping of waffles.

  Joe and Frank were eating their breakfast standing at the kitchen counter. They exchanged jokes and remarks with their friends while Clayton Silvers helped Aunt Gertrude serve more food.

  “We could all sit at the dining room table,” Aunt Gertrude commented as she poured Phil another glass of orange juice. “There’s more than enough room for everyone.”

  “We’re fine here,” Phil mumbled through a mouthful of food.

  Besides,” Clayton added. “You know kitchens are warm and friendly,” he said. “And I can’t think of a better place for this group to gather.” He raised his cup of coffee to the Hardys. “You really came through for me. I can never thank you enough.”

  “You could stay in touch more.” Gertrude Hardy gave Clayton a stern sideward glance. “Besides,” she continued, “I have to admit it felt good to right an injustice. Very exciting.”

  Suddenly she caught the look in her brother’s eyes. “But I certainly do not want to go through it again,” she added quickly.

  “I don’t think we’ll have to,” Fenton told his sister. “Harlan and his gang will be inside for a long time.”

  “Why’d he do it?” Tony Prito asked, just before gulping down another mouthful of food.

  “Money,” Clayton replied matter-of-factly.

  “But he was making a bundle as a security consultant,” Iola said.

  “Maybe he felt it wasn’t enough,” Joe offered.

  “Well, he’s still got clients,” Clayton told the group. “The Justice Department, FBI, CIA, NSA—all those alphabet agencies want the names, places, and dates of every buyer he’s done business with.”

  “Sounds like there’ll be indictments everywhere,” Fenton said.

  “Every one of them deserves it.” Aunt Gertrude poured herself another cup of coffee. “They were making others suffer, and that is inexcusable.”

  Joe moved next to his aunt and placed an arm around her shoulders. “We’ve never heard you talk like this,” he told her. “In fact, I learned a lot of new things about you.”

  “And?” Aunt Gertrude said without looking at him.

  “We just wonder how you can be so strict with us when you had a wild side, too.”

  “You and Frank and your father try to help people,” Gertrude Hardy said slowly. “I believe in that. It’s what we Hardys do and have always done. But you boys attract so much danger … that I worry. I guess I can’t explain it better than that.”

  Frank and Joe remembered the story Clayton had told them. “We understand,” Frank told her. “Really we do.”

  “So do we,” Callie Shaw added.

  “I just want you to be careful, that’s all,” Aunt Gertrude suddenly snapped. She began grabbing up empty cups and plates.

  “I’m still eating,” Phil called out as she picked up his plate. There was still half a waffle sitting in the middle.

  “Sorry,” Aunt Gertrude mumbled.

  “So what are you going to do now, Mr. Silvers?” Darryl asked.

  The reporter casually leaned back against the kitchen door jamb and held up a copy of the Bayport Times. In bold, black type, the headline read, “Tech Thieves Off Line,” by Clayton Silvers. Darryl received credit for an assist.

  “This story hit in five major cities,” Clayton announced. “Not to mention radio, TV, and the Web. I had offers from all of them, including an offer to have my old job back.”

  “Which one will you take?” Iola asked.

  Clayton smiled. “I have no clue,” he admitted. “I might choose to stay freelance and write a book.”

  “You’d never settle down anywhere,” Aunt Gertrude said, teasing. “You’d miss the action.”

  “Well, whatever I decide, Spitfire”—everyone in the room chuckled, including Aunt Gertrud
e—“it sure feels good to have a choice.”

  “I know we’ll be seeing more articles by you soon,” Frank told Clayton.

  “Yeah, and I hope we’ll be hearing more stories about Aunt Gertrude. Like the—”

  “Don’t you dare, Joseph Hardy.” Aunt Gertrude began chasing Joe as he playfully dashed out into the garden.

  “There are a lot of thieves out there, Frank,” Clayton said as he watched Joe and Aunt Gertrude. “Someone’s got to take them down. Someone clever like me … and crazy like you Hardys.”