A loud clatter broke out overhead and a helicopter zoomed through the sky. It was painted white, and bore no markings. The pilot made a wide circle around the two cars parked by the side of the road. Obviously interested in them, he returned for a second look.
“Chopper!” Chet cried. “If we can attract the pilot’s attention, maybe he’ll pick us up. Come on, we’ll send him an SOS before he flies off!”
The rotund youth ran down the gully and out into the open. The others followed on his heels. Chet began to wave his arms frantically.
“Chet, be careful!” Frank warned. “It could be Stiller and his gang!”
Chet ignored the warning. Exultantly he realized that the pilot had spotted the group. “He saw us and is coming down for us!”
The chopper swung low toward them. Then machine guns chattered! Bullets kicked up puffs of sand on the desert floor!
CHAPTER XVI
Helicopter Hunt
“RUN BEHIND the rocks!” Joe shouted. “We’re clay pigeons out here in the open!”
He raced back up the gully, followed by the others. The helicopter pursued them, its machine guns spraying bullets at their heels. They circled around the rocks until they found sanctuary under an overhanging ledge. Baffled by this obstruction, the chopper pilot hovered in the sky like a hawk waiting for its prey to emerge from a hole in the ground.
The six fugitives crept into a large cave at the end of the ledge. Ponsley sank down and mopped his brow with his handkerchief. Jenson sat down beside him. The Hardys, Chet, and Moran peered through the mouth of the cave at their enemy overhead.
“We’re safe for the moment,” Frank said. “But the helicopter will keep hunting us.”
Ponsley turned pale and gasped, “Then why are we staying in here? We’ll be trapped!”
“We can’t get back to the car while the chopper’s in the air,” Frank replied. “Let’s wait until the pilot lands.”
As if in response to his words, the whirlybird began to circle lower and lower, finally settling on the desert in a cloud of dust. The door opened and Stiller jumped out, followed by Bruno and another man. They both carried machine guns.
“Run before they find us!” Frank called out to his companions. “Now!”
He was first out of the cave. Chet, Moran, Jenson, and Ponsley came after, with Joe at the end of the line to make sure no one was left behind. They took the reverse direction along the overhanging ledge, just making it around the rocks before a volley of shots rang out as the gang spotted them.
Quickly they ran down the gully to the car and piled into it. The gang pounded after them.
Frank took the wheel, and the car roared off amid a hail of bullets fired by Stiller and his henchmen.
“Anybody get hit?” Joe asked anxiously.
He felt relieved when everyone reassured him that he had not. Peering through the back window, he saw the gang turn and run up the gully.
“They’re going back to the chopper!” he said grimly. “That means they’ll be after us again.”
“Oh, no!” Ponsley protested. He was squeezed into one corner of the car with his elbows pressed tightly against his sides. “It’s bad enough riding like this! I can’t breathe!”
“It’ll get worse in a minute,” Joe predicted.
He was right. The helicopter appeared in the sky and thundered after the car. One of the machine guns opened up again, kicking up sand behind the rear wheels of the speeding vehicle.
Frank swerved sharply from one side of the road to the other, presenting a moving target to the gunner. Reaching a row of hills, he dodged into them. He sped in and out among them, rocking the car violently as he took sharp corners on two wheels. The brakes squealed.
“We’ll never get out of this alive!” Ponsley lamented. “We’re done for!”
“Not yet!” Frank vowed. “We’ll give them a run for their money!”
The hills ended, and the car was forced back onto the road through the Outback. The chopper resumed the chase, throwing a moving shadow on the earth like that of a giant prehistoric bird flapping through the early morning sunlight.
Frank raced down the road. “How long can that guy keep missing us with his burp gun?” he wondered.
“They’re trying to draw a bead on us,” Joe warned. “Here they come. Everybody duck!”
“Duck?” Ponsley quavered. “I can’t even move!”
“What’s that?” Chet cried, pointing down the road to a speck on the horizon that was growing larger by the second.
“It’s a car!” Frank exclaimed.
The two vehicles raced toward one another. Frank blinked his headlights on and off as a signal to the other driver that he was in trouble.
“I hope he can help us!” Chet said.
“He sure will!” Frank replied. “That’s a police car!”
The helicopter pilot, recognizing the police insignia, veered off and clattered away, vanishing in the distance. Frank drew to a stop, and so did the patrol car. Two officers got out.
“Boy, are we glad to see you!” Frank exclaimed.
“What’s the matter?” asked one of the officers.
Frank introduced himself and his companions, then explained that the helicopter had been chasing and firing at them.
“Why were the men in the chopper after you?”
Joe and Chet took turns describing what had occurred since they arrived at the Cutler Ranch. Moran and Jenson added their testimony, and told how they happened to be at the ranch.
The policemen listened in amazement. “We saw the copter and heard the gunfire quite a distance away, but we couldn’t figure out what was going on,” said one officer.
His partner added, “We’ll call for reinforcements and drive to the Cutler homestead immediately.”
“But the chopper will get there before you,” Frank pointed out.
“True. But it’s too small to fly out that many people. We should be able to nab at least some of the gang.”
The two officers got into their patrol car and started up the road through the Outback, while Frank and the others continued to Alice Springs. They drove straight to the rental agency and returned the car.
Ponsley was so stiff that he had to be pulled out of the back seat by Chet and the Hardys. “Oh, my aching back!” he complained. “Mike, why did you ever have to come to a place like this?”
“I like this country,” Mike said with a grin. “What do we do next?”
“Fly back to America at once!” Ponsley declared. “Michael, your father can’t wait to see you.”
Moran nodded. “And I can’t wait to see him and Mom.”
“I’d better fly to Sydney to check in with the Australian authorities and confirm my clearance at Woomera,” Dr. Jenson said.
Frank said, “And I think we should go with you in case the gang tries to kidnap you again. Until they’re behind bars, I know Dad would want us to act as your bodyguards, Dr. Jenson.”
The scientist smiled. “I’ll be happy to have you. It makes me feel a lot safer.”
On the plane to Sydney, Mike Moran told them about some of his experiences and how he had run out of money and accepted the job Bruno offered him.
“Did you tell him the police were after you?” Frank asked bluntly.
Mike stared at him for a moment. “No. Why do you ask?”
“Bruno said you did.”
“You spoke to him?”
“No. We overheard him saying it.”
“Well, it’s not true.”
Frank had doubts but changed the subject. “Now you can help your father in his political campaign,” he suggested.
“I’ll be glad to,” Mike said. “After my experiences down under, politics will be a tame game. But that’s all right. I don’t want to get involved with any more criminals.”
At the Sydney airport, Ponsley and Moran said good-by and went to catch a plane for the United States. The boys accompanied Dr. Jenson to police headquarters and then returned with him t
o the airport to await a flight to Adelaide, where they would transfer to another plane for the Woomera rocket station.
While they were sitting in the terminal, a voice announced over the loudspeaker: “Call for Joe Hardy! Call for Joe Hardy!”
“Who can that be?” Joe wondered.
“You’ll find out when you answer,” Chet said.
After checking with the information desk, Joe went to the designated phone booth and picked up the receiver. “Joe Hardy speaking.”
“Listen, punk,” growled a disguised voice, “you and your brother better get out of Australia! And take your fat friend with you—or all three of you will wind up in the hospital! Or in coffins!”
CHAPTER XVII
Woomera Welcome
JOE started to ask who the speaker was but the phone clicked off at the other end. Replacing the receiver, the boy returned to the others and quickly described the warning call.
“The helicopter gang knew we were with Dr. Jenson,” Chet said. “They could have called ahead of us to alert another member. He may follow us, so we’d better be on our guard.”
Frank nodded thoughtfully. “But do you know what this means? Unless they called their accomplice while they were still in the air, they escaped the police!”
“I’m going to get in touch with the Alice Springs police right away,” Joe said and hurried off to a phone booth. He managed to reach the officer in charge. “Did you capture the Stiller gang?” he asked.
“No such luck. We found the Cutler station abandoned. Obviously other gang members arrived with cars to help evacuate everyone. So far we haven’t traced the helicopter or its crew.”
Joe groaned in disappointment. “Any clues in the house?”
“Nothing. It was cleaned out except for some fingerprints. There were a lot of ashes in the fire-place and bits of paper, but nothing conclusive. They obviously burned anything incriminating.”
“And no hint to where they might have gone?”
“None. But we’re working on the case and will find out sooner or later.”
Joe thanked the officer and hung up. When he joined his brother and the others, they could tell from the expression on his face that something had gone wrong.
“The Cutler gang escaped?” Frank asked.
“Without a trace. They burned all the evidence and were gone when the police arrived.”
“They must have been prepared even before the helicopter went off to chase us,” Frank muttered.
“Do you think they’ll make another attempt to kidnap Dr. Jenson?” Chet asked.
“It’s possible. We have to be very careful.”
The scientist turned pale when he heard that his captors were still at large. “I’m glad you fellows are with me,” he said. “And I’ll feel better yet once we get to Woomera. The security there is so tight, I doubt that any of the gang could get in.”
His companions nodded, and they kept a sharp eye out for anyone who might be following them. They boarded the plane without noticing anything suspicious.
The plane flew over the desolate terrain of Southern Australia, then made a big circle to the coast over Gulf St. Vincent and into Adelaide for a landing at the airport. There, a message was waiting for Dr. Jenson.
“Professor David Hopkins is here to meet me,” he declared after reading the note.
“Dr. Jenson, who is this professor?” Frank asked. “Do you know him?”
“We can’t take chances with strangers,” Joe added.
Jenson laughed. “I’ve never met him, but I know he’s a famous scientist. He’s one of the experts I came to Australia to meet. Hopkins works out the astronomical tables for interplanetary probes and will help track the Firebird.”
“The man who is meeting us here could be a phony,” Frank objected.
“Don’t worry,” Dr. Jenson assured him. “I know what Hopkins looks like. I’ve seen several pictures of him.”
“Good,” Frank said. “I’d hate to walk into a trap.”
Jenson led the way to the waiting room, looked around, then waved to a man sitting on a bench. It was obviously Hopkins. Frank was relieved by the gesture.
The scientist was a short-sighted individual wearing steel-rimmed glasses. He came forward and introduced himself.
“Dr. Jenson, the Sydney police informed us that you were coming,” he said. “I couldn’t wait to see you, so I flew down to Adelaide. We’re all so glad to hear that you survived your ordeal unharmed!”
“So am I,” Jenson said with a smile. He shook Hopkins’ hand, introduced the Hardys and Chet, and gave Hopkins a brief rundown on his escape from the Cutler Ranch. “The boys came along as my bodyguards,” he concluded.
“That’s a splendid idea in view of the danger,” Hopkins declared emphatically. “Now then. We’ll fly to Woomera in an official plane. The station’s in the desert, where the rockets can be safely tested.”
The plane was a medium-sized, propeller-driven craft, just large enough for them to squeeze in behind the pilot. After taking off, they headed northwest over Spencer Gulf and Port Augusta into a region of lakes that broke up the arid, sun-bitten terrain of western Australia.
After their long, cramped flight drew to an end, Hopkins pointed out the window and said, “This is the Woomera prohibited area. It’s a very large tract of land, absolutely barred to visitors who don’t have official permission to enter.”
“I know why,” Chet boasted. “Your rockets are top secret! Space probes! Spy-in-the-sky! All that hardware!”
Hopkins smiled. “You seem to know about this.”
Chet puffed his chest out. “I built a rocket myself and won the high school science competition!”
The Australian smiled again. “Perhaps some day you’ll be working here as a scientist.”
Chet looked pleased. “I would—”
“We’re about to land,” the pilot interjected. He maneuvered the plane in line with the run-way, set down the wheels, and taxied to the terminal. Hopkins oversaw his companions’ clearance by the Woomera security staff, then took them in his car to their hotel.
“This town sprang up overnight,” he said as they drove along. “Even the trees you see were planted. Now we have homes, apartments, swimming pools—everything from a post office to a hospital. We’ll go out to the rocket range in the morning,” he added upon drawing up to the curb to let his passengers out.
It was decided that Dr. Jenson would share his room with Chet for security reasons, and the Hardys asked for adjoining quarters. However, the night passed without an incident, and Hopkins picked them up, as promised, early next day.
They drove to the central installation and saw rockets of all sizes at launch sites. Some stood upright, ready to fly into orbit. Others were canted at an angle that would keep them from reaching outer space.
Hopkins took the boys into a building and led them to its main room, which contained rows of sensitive instruments. Scientists and technicians were seated at consoles, checking the readings. “This is the control room,” he said, “and these instruments monitor our rockets.”
A man in a white coat was bending over a telemetry computer. When he heard Hopkins’ voice, he straightened up and looked around. The Hardys stared in surprise. He was Professor Young!
“Adrian!” Young exclaimed, stepping over and shaking Jenson’s hand. “I’m so glad the Hardys found you! Good job!”
Frank and Joe smiled and Chet looked a little disappointed because he had not been mentioned.
“Well, I want to welcome all of you to Woomera,” Young went on. “I came here to follow the Firebird flight because I was afraid you wouldn’t make it!”
“I almost didn’t,” Jenson said, and told Young about his experiences since he was last heard from.
Young looked grim. “NASA will do everything to see that your kidnappers are brought to justice. Please give me all the details of your capture.”
He questioned Jenson and the boys very closely for an hour. At the end, he
said, “Adrian, I take it you still have no idea why the Stiller gang kidnapped you.”
Jenson shook his head. “I wish I could tell you. But I can’t.”
“When Cutler and his men are found, they may talk,” Frank suggested.
“Let’s hope so!” Young declared fervently. He invited Jenson to come into his office for a briefing about the Firebird. Then he turned to the boys. “While Dr. Jenson and I are talking, I’ll bet I know what you fellows would like to do.”
“I’d like to see a rocket launching!” Chet said.
“I figured that,” Young said with a smile. “You’re in luck. There will be one in about five minutes. Come along with me.”
He escorted the boys to a special observation window through which they could see a huge missile poised on its launch pad. Then the two men disappeared while the Hardys and Chet waited expectantly, their eyes glued to the rocket.
The nose cone was painted dark green and the booster was white with the name Wallaby on it. A supporting gantry moved back, leaving the rocket standing by itself on the launch pad.
An Australian scientist came up to watch. “You’re Americans, aren’t you?” he asked.
Frank said they were.
“I thought so from hearing you speak. That rocket is named for a small kangaroo, the wallaby. It will put a weather satellite into orbit.” He stood near them while preparations for the launching continued. At last everything was ready.
“Here we go!” Chet cried. “The countdown!”
A voice intoned the numbers: “Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, zero! Lift off!”
Exhaust gases poured out onto the launch pad in a dense white cloud. The rocket started straight up, slowly at first, then gathered momentum, and increased its speed. Soon it was hurtling through the sky high above the earth.
The scientists and technicians in the control room cheered loudly and the boys joined in.
“That’s a beauty!” Joe said enthusiastically. “I hope she makes it into orbit!”
The Firebird Rocket Page 10
