The Hardy Boys Casefiles : Dead on Target

Chapter 5

FRANK AND JOE hesitated just an instant-until a dart scored the paint on the fender beside them."No choice," Frank said.

 He and Joe got into the car. The door closed behind them, muffling the noise as the vehicle screechedaway from the curb.

 "What's going on?" said Frank in surprise. "I thought those guys were coming along."

 "Looks like they thought so, too," Joe said, glancing out the rear windshield. Two figures sprintedfrom the theater emergency exit. One aimed a pistol, and they saw the gleam of a dart fly at them andbounce off the trunk of the car.

 The smoked-glass partition hiding the front seat rolled down with a whirring noise, bringing bothHardys' heads front. "Don't jump to conclusions until you know all the facts, boys," said the driver ofthe car, turning around. 

Frank and Joe sat in shock, staring at Arthur Gray.

 "What are you doing here?" Joe finally managed to say.

 "Rescuing you," Gray replied, turning back to the road. "From the looks of things, I arrived just intime."

 "Yeah," Frank said, suspicion in his voice.

 "You came along very conveniently. Too conveniently."

 Gray smiled as he glanced in the rear-view mirror. "I took the liberty of keeping a discreet electroniceye on you."

 "How?" Frank demanded. "Remember those cards I gave you? They're, not cardboard, they're plastic.And inside they're marvels of microelectronics."

 "You bugged us?" Joe burst out.

 "Not exactly. They're locator devices. We could plot your movements. When your movementssuddenly became rather erratic, we knew something was up. So I came to collect you. And you'reright. I'd say it was very convenient that I came along."

 The car had pulled out of the parking area, and Gray poured on the speed.

 "You know, I've had just about enough of this cloak-and-dagger stuff," Frank said. Gray didn't turn oreven respond. "I want to know what's going on here. And I want it straight."

 Still Gray didn't answer. 

"Kind of tough, arguing with the back of somebody's head," Joe commented. "Do you hear me?" Franksaid, reaching out to grab the man by the shoulder.Before Frank's hand reached the front seat, the glass divider came up like a reverse guillotine.Startled, Frank jerked his hand back. The divider rolled back down. 

"Sorry about that," Gray apologized. "Security measure. Although I am a bit surprised. Our files saidyour brother was the hot-headed one." "Ah, come on, give him a break," Joe said. Frank was staring."Files?" he repeated. "Just who are you?" "Let's say I'm connected with the intelligence community,"the Gray Man replied.

 "CIA?" The government man shook his head. "Nothing so crude. The Network does more . . . delicate. . . information gathering."

 "The Network, huh? CBS instead of CIA?" Frank was having a tough time accepting Gray'stransformation from nerd to secret agent. His eyes narrowed in thought. "So that story about yourcompany being a client of Dad's that was all phony." He stared at the man. "I suppose even the nameon the card isn't real."

 "It's close to my code name," the government agent said. "Gray Man. World Import-Export exists. It'sa cover company for the Network. And your father has given us some help from time to time. That'swhy I'm here. He's called in some favors, wants his family kept safely out of sight."

 "While he does what?" Frank asked. 

"I've got people trying to find that out," the Gray Man replied. He took a deep breath, as if wonderingwhere to begin. "It all revolves around the Walker campaign."

 Joe stared. "You mean Iola was blown up because she supported Philip Walker?"

 "No." The Gray Man shook his head. "We're', pretty sure that bomb was aimed at you-and, throughyou, at your father. He's head of security for Philip Walker's campaign."

 "So that's the big job he's been so tight-lipped about," Frank said.

 The Gray Man nodded. "And it's turned into a bigger job since Walker began talking about terrorists.Certain groups weren't happy about that. They were even less happy when your father began gatheringinformation on them."

 He looked back at the Hardys. "You see, Fenton Hardy got lucky. He got a line on a group nobody'sbeen able to crack - the Assassins." Joe laughed. "Sounds like a cycle gang."

 The Gray Man didn't crack a smile. "These are very, very dangerous men. They started as a bunch offanatics in the days of the Crusades. And they've stayed in the business of terrorism ever since-almosta thousand years of experience."

"They hire themselves out nowadays, and they use the most modern technology. The bomb that blastedyour car, for instance - the local police are still scratching their heads over it. "

 "But we still don't understand why they did it," Frank said."

To silence your father," the Gray Man answered. "Your father found out about a major Assassinproject, a series of terrorist attacks in cities all across America. They wanted to scare him intosilence or, even better, use him for their own propaganda." "They don't know Dad very well," Joesaid. "Probably not. But they trust to their own motto Kill one, frighten a hundred. And they're usuallyright. They needed Fenton Hardy. They couldn't threaten him, but they could threaten his family. Andto show they meant business, they blew you up." "Except they didn't get us." Joe's voice was hard."They got Iola." 

"Well, that explains why Dad got so grim after the bombing," Frank said. "It explains his quickdisappearance, too." He turned to the Gray Man.

 "He's gone underground, trying to use his connection to the Assassins, hasn't he? But wait a second!What about that threat? That means Mom and Aunt Gertrude are in danger." 

"Your mother and your aunt are with our agents," the Gray Man explained. "They're already out ofBayport, headed for a secret destination." He smiled. "We'll be doing the same with you. We have anice Marine base in South Carolina picked out for you." 

"No way!" Joe replied heatedly. "I want the guy who set that bomb. And that means I've got to be inBayport, not boot camp."

 "Look, sonny, I don't care what you want."The Gray Man didn't even look away from the road. "We're keeping you under wraps until the case isclosed." "Will you be staying on Iola's case?" Frank asked. 

"The Assassins are my case," said the Gray Man. "I've got a lead that their headquarters is now inLondon. That's where I'll be headed after I drop you off." "Drop us where?" Joe's voice was raw withrebelliousness. 

"At your home, of course. Our people will meet you there, and you'll be on your way."

 "You're not going to ship me off someplace! Pull over," Joe said, reaching for the door handle "I'mgetting out here!" 

The Gray Man glanced at them in the rear-view mirror as he pulled onto the gravel shoulder! Theywere on a quiet secondary road, two lanes of blacktop in the middle of a scene that looked more likecountry than suburbs.

 No one was around. Even the road was deserted, except for a telephone repair van that disappearedin a dip in the road behind them. 

"Listen, kid," the Gray Man began as Joe struggled furiously with the door handle.

 "Look, I'm not a kid. I've made up my mind. So stop screwing around with these locks and let me out!"

 "You're not leaving," the government man growled, turning in his seat. "Get that clear." At thatmoment, the telephone van appeared behind them, putting on speed. It came abreast of the car, thenswerved onto the shoulder ahead of them. The back door flew open, revealing a masked figure withan Uzi submachine gun in his hands. As the Hardys watched in horror, he emptied half the clip of hisgun point-blank into their windshield.