Hardy Boys Casefiles: Lazarus Plot

Chapter 4

BLINKING, THE HARDY boys turned toward the sound of the voice. But the glare of a spotlight prevented them from seeing whoever was talking.

"You seem to be interested in entering the Lazarus Clinic," the voice said. It was remarkable in just one respect: There was nothing remarkable about it. It was without an accent of any kind. "Allow us to give you a guided tour. But first, raise your hands."

Two men dressed in black slacks, black sweat shirts, and black athletic shoes stepped forward.

They carried military assault rifles poised and ready. Frank and Joe raised their hands.

"I am glad to see you are being cooperative," said the voice. "Hugo and Fritz have nervous trigger fingers. Now we must have a quick examination of your persons. Hugo, frisk them."

While Fritz trained his rifle on the Hardy boys, Hugo took their hunting knives from their sheaths, then gave them a swift but professionally thorough going-over, from their ankles to their shoulders.

"Good, you are clean," said the voice. "Take them inside." Hugo swung open the door, and prodded by Fritz's assault rifle, the Hardy boys went inside. From behind them the voice said, "Please do not turn around to look at me, unless you want a rifle barrel smashed into your face. Instead take a look around you. This building is unique. It was originally built ninety years ago by an eccentric millionaire, who later went bankrupt. It was converted into a mental clinic sixty years later by an even more eccentric psychologist, who went bankrupt in turn. It is now perfect for my organization to use. Not only did we buy it dirt cheap, but we are assured of privacy here. Our work demands a great deal of privacy."

"Pretty sloppy of you to leave your front gate unlocked then," said Frank. He got the answer he half-expected.

"It was no accident that the gate was unlocked-for you," said the voice. "Rest assured, it is locked now."

"So we walked into a trap," said Frank. "And Iola was the bait."

"I was told you were an intelligent young man," the voice said.

"So it was Iola!" Joe exclaimed. "She is here! Tell me where she - " Forgetting himself, he wheeled around to question his captor.

He didn't get to finish his question-or see who was doing the talking. All he saw was Fritz's rifle barrel slashing toward his face, while in "the background, a figure darted out of sight behind a high-backed chair.

At the same time, the lightning reflexes that made Joe an ace athlete went 'into action. Before the rifle barrel could touch his face, he grabbed it and pulled it, letting Fritz set himself off balance by his own forward momentum. Then he viciously shoved it away, sending Fritz sprawling" backward into Hugo's rifle.

"Run for it!" Joe shouted to Frank while he himself dashed through a nearby doorway and down a corridor. Behind him he heard shouts and running footsteps.

At the end of the corridor was a winding stair way. Joe went up it three steps at a time. On the second floor; he raced down another corridor, rounded a sharp turn, and found himself facing a closed door. The door was metal, in sharp contrast to the old wood of the house and the faded floral carpeting on the floor.

Joe heard the-footsteps of his pursuers. He hesitated for just a moment before grabbing the door knob and giving it a turn.

The door opened easily. Joe stepped inside and felt his knees go weak. Stunned, he could only gasp, "Iola."

She was sitting in a chair facing him, looking exactly the way she did when Joe had last seen her-her face, her hair, even the clothes she was wearing. But now there were electrodes fastened to both sides of her head. Leather straps bound her wrists to the arms of the chair. And her eyes stared blankly at Joe.