Past and Present Danger Read online

  “That was a bust,” Joe complained as they retrieved their bikes. “They’re not working on anything hush-hush that might interest our techno-thieves.”

  “Are you sure she was telling you the truth?” Callie asked.

  “I think so,” Frank replied. “She had no reason to lie. She could have just said she couldn’t talk about it and that they’d take the proper precautions.” He seemed troubled by something. “Still … I don’t know.”

  “They haven’t hired any new employees either,” Iola added. “So what do we do now?”

  Frank straddled his bike and began to pedal back to the road. “We go over to Fairmont Industries to see what they have to say,” he said, then grew quiet.

  “What’s up, big brother?” Joe asked as he rode beside him.

  “I feel like we have all the pieces to this puzzle,” Frank replied. “But I don’t have any idea how to put them together.”

  “Want to go over everything?” Joe asked.

  “Not yet,” Frank said. “Let’s wait until after we leave Fairmont.”

  Joe agreed, and for the next half-hour they rode southeast toward their next destination. Once again, they kept to the rougher trails and checked to make certain they were not being followed.

  Around two o’clock they stopped in a meadow to have lunch. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves and branches. Though Frank and Joe wanted to sit and enjoy the afternoon, they ate quickly, and by three o’clock they were riding onto the manicured grounds of Fairmont Industries. The grass was evenly cut, the bushes trimmed and shaped. Even the branches of the thin birch trees seemed to have been trimmed to the same basic size and form.

  Fairmont appeared to be as successful as Orion Electronics. A large black-and-gold metal sign stood on the lawn by the entrance. The main buildings were mostly white stone with few windows.

  “Looks like the employees don’t get a lot of sun around here,” Joe commented.

  “They work on special computer chips and other light-sensitive technology,” Frank explained as they chained their bikes to an employee bike rack. “Too much sun, too few profits.”

  Joe shrugged and followed Frank, Callie, and Iola into the building.

  After showing ID and speaking with security, the boys and their friends were shown up to the office of the executive they’d come to see, Mark Lowry.

  Once again the interview was polite, sincere, but brief.

  “Sorry I can’t be of any help,” Mr. Lowry said as he walked them to the front door. “No new projects or employees. And the head of our security has been with us over five years.”

  “Well, thanks for your time and the tour,” Joe told the executive.

  “You boys and your father saved us a bundle last year,” Mr. Lowry said as they stepped outside. “We owe you. Come by anytime.”

  The Hardys said their goodbyes and were about to leave when Frank remembered the electronic master key in his backpack.

  “Maybe you can help us ith this,” he said, handing the card to the executive. “Can you tell me anything about it?”

  Mr. Lowry studied the blank card, then the attached strip of plastic and wires. “This is a master passkey,” he said slowly. “Though I’m surprised to see it in this condition.”

  “Why?” Joe asked.

  “Because this is part of a very expensive unit,” Mr. Lowry replied. He held up the torn strip. “This piece attaches to a box-shaped unit about the size of a paperback book. You insert the card into any electronic card lock, and the box decodes the combination.”

  “Any combination?” Joe asked. “Like the doors in a hotel?”

  Mr. Lowry nodded. “Though I’d be surprised to see it used that way.”

  “Really?” Iola said.

  “This is top of the line,” he said. “Only top security and intelligence professionals would have one of these. Not anyone in basic hotel security, unless they were very well connected.”

  Frank and Joe exchanged glances.

  “Thanks, Mr. Lowry,” Frank told the executive. “I think you’ve just given us our first real lead.”

  Mr. Lowry still had a puzzled expression on his face as the four teens rode away from the complex.

  “Do you think that the hotel assistant manager, Mr. Tally, is in with the thieves?” Joe asked his brother.

  “I think that’s a good thing to find out today,” Frank replied. He led the group back to Bayport. The late afternoon air had turned chilly and cut through their windbreakers.

  The teens exchanged ideas and questions about the case, all the way back to town. By the time the Hardys dropped Callie and Iola off at their homes, they felt sure the criminals would strike soon.

  “So now we go check out that cable TV company,” Joe said. “Right?”

  Frank frowned. “Guess so,” he replied. “They must tie into this somewhere.”

  “But if they’re not after either of the two electronic companies,” Joe said in frustration, “what is worth their time in Bayport?”

  “Mr. Silvers said it was something really big,” Frank replied. “And they’re moving fast to get us out of the way.”

  “Yeah,” Joe agreed. “They tried to kidnap Mr. Silvers and bump him off even with our aunt in the car. Then they bug our house, all in twenty-four hours.”

  Joe’s statement caused Frank to pause. “All in twenty-four hours . . .” he mused. “I don’t think that’s possible. I mean, how could—”

  Frank’s question was cut off by the ringing of Joe’s cell phone.

  “Joe here,” he said into the cellular unit.

  “Yo, Joe, my man,” a voice announced cheerfully. “Darryl here.”

  Joe signaled Frank, and they both pulled over to the curb. “What’s up, Darryl?”

  “Frank asked me to let him know if I found out anything about the places those techno-thieves hit or the frame job on Mr. Silvers. Right?”

  “Right.”

  “So, I did,” Darryl replied. “Seems the very place that Mr. Silvers thought they’d hit, they did … exactly one week after Mr. Silvers was fired.”

  “How’d they do it?”

  “Nobody knows,” Darryl replied. “They snatched some mega-important materials right out of the company’s code-encrypted computer files without setting off any alarms. Even their security consultant couldn’t figure it out.”

  “Can you find out who their security consultant was?” Joe asked. “Maybe he can tell us something.”

  “I’ll try,” Darryl replied anxiously. “But not right now. I’m running out with one of the reporters on a story. Some political bigwig is in town, but it’s being kept very hush-hush.”

  “Who?” Joe asked.

  “We think it’s Congressman Reynolds,” Darryl replied. “We missed him at the airport, but we’ll find out sooner or later.”

  “Well, thanks for the help.” Joe said.

  “No problem,” Darryl replied. “What are you guys going to do?”

  “Check out that new cable company on Beale Street,” Joe replied. “We think they may be involved.”

  “Okay,” Darryl said. “But remember, I get a crack at the story. It’s a good way for me to make points around here.”

  Joe agreed, then said goodbye. He checked in with his aunt and told her where they were going, then turned to Frank. “Where does this news about the robbery fit in?” he asked his brother.

  “I’m not sure,” he said as they started pedaling down the street. “But I’m sure it does.”

  “We need to start separating the false clues from the true ones,” Joe said. “Let’s get over to Stellar Dish TV and see what they can tell us.”

  The Stellar Dish TV Cable Company was located in a one-story redbrick building in the old section of Bayport’s business district. The entrance was off the parking lot in front, next to a large picture window. Frank and Joe noticed a truck bay in back of the shop, but there were no white vans in sight. In fact, the parking lot was as deserted as the street, and they didn’t see
anyone through the window.

  “I know it’s after five, but it sure is quiet,” Joe said.

  Frank nodded.

  The boys pushed open the dark green metal door and walked inside. The room was small. There was a counter directly in front of them and another door behind it. A few empty chairs sat to their right, next to a vending machine. But there appeared to be no one in the room. Frank called out, but no one answered.

  “This is where the hero usually says something’s wrong,” Joe teased with an element of tension in his voice.

  Again Frank nodded. He motioned for Joe to follow him as he went behind the counter to push open the door a crack.

  Peeking through the opening, the boys could see part of a large work and storage area. The muscles in Frank’s stomach tightened. They should back off, he thought. This felt too much like a trap. But if the crooks were here, and not expecting them, then it was a great chance to get some real evidence.

  Exchanging a cautious glance with Joe, Frank stepped into the room. Joe was only a few feet behind him.

  Two walls of the room were lined with boxes and shelves. More boxes were stacked on the floor. One wall held a series of workstations ith benches and tools for working on electronic equipment. The fourth wall was two corrugated steel garage doors. The boys assumed that outside these doors was where the vans loaded.

  Joe stepped up to Frank. “Smell that?” he asked.

  Frank detected a strong, familiar odor. But before he could reply, the lights went out.

  The blow was swift, hard, and efficient. Joe felt his legs go weak, and the room began to whirl. Frank felt nothing as he fell to the floor.

  Joe wanted to lift his head from the floor but couldn’t. He couldn’t move any part of his body, and nothing in the dark room seemed real. Except the odor. Familiar, nauseating. He realized what it was just as the room lit up in bright yellow and red lights. No, not lights—flames. The room had been set on fire.

  “Frank,” Joe moaned. Then, as the fire burned brighter, everything went black.

  12

  Escape

  His face was on fire.

  That was the first thought that flashed through Joe Hardy’s mind as consciousness returned. The right side of his face was hot, as if he were lying next to an oven.

  But worse than the heat was the smoke. Joe was choking. His legs and body felt sluggish, and he could barely move. Yet something was tugging at him—pulling, in fact.

  “Come on, Joseph, please!” The frantic voice shouting in his ear belonged to Aunt Gertrude. Joe’s eyes began to focus, and he saw the terror-filled expression on her face. “Please, Joseph!”

  Aunt Gertrude pulled desperately on his shirtfront until she had him in a sitting position. “We have to go,” she pleaded. “The room is on fire!”

  Clarity blazed before Joe as he painfully scrambled to his feet. There were flames everywhere. Tools and equipment, boxes of wire, cable, and brochures all burned brightly—releasing poisonous fumes.

  Joe leaned on his aunt’s shoulder as they stumbled toward the door. For a split second Joe thought he saw something, but a coughing fit took hold of him as his aunt rushed them from the room.

  “Where’s Frank?” Joe gasped.

  “Clayton has him,” Aunt Gertrude replied. She was also choking, and Joe could hear the terror in her voice. “Hurry!”

  Gertrude Hardy led them through the outer room and into the parking lot and fresh air.

  The cool night air and the sight of Frank a few feet ahead of him revived Joe further. Frank was leaning against a dark blue sedan, and Clayton Silvers was with him. The moment he saw them, the reporter rushed to help Aunt Gertrude and Joe.

  “You okay, Frank?” Joe gasped.

  “Except for a headache and some singed hair, I’m fine.” Frank tried to grin but inced from some pain he felt. He reached up and touched the back of his head.

  “Did one of the cable workers do this?” Clayton asked. “Are they involved?”

  “I didn’t see who hit me,” Joe replied. Frank agreed. “We walked in and—” Suddenly Joe scrambled to his feet and half ran, half stumbled back to the burning building.

  “Joe!” Aunt Gertrude screamed.

  “One of the workers,” Joe called back. “I saw one of them in there!”

  Joe raced through the outer room and into the back area. Dizziness almost overcame him and caused him to fall into a stack of blazing boxes. The smoke was thick, dense, causing his eyes to burn and his lungs to scream for air. He couldn’t see the worker.

  “Where was he?”

  Joe whirled around and saw Frank stumbling in behind him.

  “Over that way,” Joe said, coughing periodically.

  Holding their jackets up to shield their faces from the flames, the Hardys rushed over to an area near the workbenches. There on the floor, half under one of the workbenches, they spotted a crumpled form.

  Joe and Frank grabbed the body and dragged it from the room as fast as they could. Once outside, Clayton helped lay the man down by his rental car, while Aunt Gertrude talked to the police on her cell phone.

  While Clayton administered first aid, the Hardys stared at the burning building.

  “It burned too fast to be anything but deliberate,” Frank said.

  “That’s for sure,” Joe replied. “Remember the smell—gasoline?”

  Frank nodded. In the distance he could hear the sounds of police sirens. “We were lucky,” Frank muttered.

  “Yeah, we were,” Joe replied. A squad car and fire trucks came screaming down the street and pulled in next to the building.

  Soon the EMS unit arrived, and after a few minutes the medics revived the man Frank and Joe had pulled from the flames. The boys quickly learned his name was John Andrews, and he was the owner of the company.

  Mr. Andrews sat up on the gurney inside the ambulance, with a small oxygen mask over his face.

  “They tell me you saved my life,” Andrews mumbled through the mask. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

  “That’s okay,” Frank said. “Someone saved us, too.”

  “Can you tell us what happened to you?” Joe asked.

  The man shrugged and appeared to be confused and worried. “It was weird,” he said. “Some guy comes in saying he wants to order our service. While I’m handing him the order forms, I hear a noise from behind me, in the back room. I turn around to look, and bang! I’m hit from behind.”

  “The customer hit you,” Frank said.

  “Only person it could have been,” the man replied. “I only have two other guys working for me, and they were out.”

  “Can you remember anything about that man?” Frank asked.

  The man shook his head slowly. “Not really. He was slim, had brown hair, and was a slob. Nothing special.”

  “A slob?” Frank asked.

  “He’d smeared some reddish stuff on his shirt. Looked like jelly or something. Even had some on his hands. Made the order forms sticky.”

  Just then the EMS technician came to the back of the ambulance. “We want to take you all to the hospital for examination, so—”

  “We’re fine,” Joe protested as he and Frank hopped down out of the vehicle.

  “You should get checked out—”

  “And they will,” Aunt Gertrude declared as she walked up to the group. “I want to know you and Frank are completely healthy.”

  “We promise we’ll go, but just not now,” Frank insisted. “We believe that whatever is going to happen will go down tonight. We’ve got to stay on this—or none of us will be safe, and Mr. Silvers’s career will be over.”

  Reluctantly, Aunt Gertrude agreed, and the EMS worker climbed into the ambulance with Mr. Andrews. The vehicle pulled away, siren lights flashing.

  “Where’s Mr. Silvers?” Frank asked his aunt.

  “He’s using the cell phone to gather more information,” she said. “Why do you think the thieves will strike tonight?”

  “They’v
e tried kidnapping, sabotage, eavesdropping, and now murder,” Frank explained. “They must think we’re getting close.”

  “And whatever they’re after is a big score,” Joe added.

  “Well, what do we know so far?” Aunt Gertrude asked.

  “We know their target isn’t a bank, electronics corporation, government laboratory, or Internet theft,” Clayton Silvers said as he joined the group. He snapped the cell phone shut. “My snitch just told me his street and Web sources are pretty sure of that. He has one more source to check, then we’ll meet.”

  Aunt Gertrude looked irritated. “We also know that the two suspects we thought we found turned out to be completely innocent.”

  “I’m sure we’re up against at least three men,” Joe said. “The man who attacked me at the hotel was thinner than the two thugs who tried to kidnap Mr. Silvers.”

  “One of those two likes doughnuts,” Frank added. “We saw a box of them on the dashboard when they were watching our house, and later when they sabotaged Aunt Gertrude’s car.”

  “Then there’s the stuff we found out today,” Joe said.

  He and Frank told Clayton Silvers and their aunt everything that had happened—including the E-mail threats and the electronic master key.

  “Something’s been bothering me,” Clayton Silvers said. He’d been watching the firefighters water down the smoldering embers and poke among the charred alls. He turned to Frank and Joe. “How come these guys have been concentrating on you two?”

  The Hardy boys looked puzzled.

  “Because we’re working on the case,” Joe replied.

  “So am I,” Clayton said. “For over a year. Why haven’t they come after me more than they have? It’s as if they think you pose a greater threat.”

  Frank’s eyes grew wide. “Because of our father!” he exclaimed. “Joe and I had a feeling his case and ours were connected.”

  “So do I,” Clayton agreed. “Is he protecting that guy Dean? I’ve seen him somewhere before.”

  “He’s from Washington,” Aunt Gertrude remarked. “Maybe you saw him there.”

  “I’ll call a friend of mine and ask some questions,” Clayton offered as he began dialing a number on the cell phone.