Tagged for Terror

by Franklin W. Dixon

  "Only Hank Forrester," Eddings replied. "He arranged security passes so the Network agents could get into restricted areas." He stood up and shook hands with Frank and Joe. "With Mapes dead, that should be the end of the luggage theft ring. You boys did quite a job. I'm almost sorry to see you go."

  "Where are we going?" Joe asked.

  "Home, I would imagine," Eddings said. "Now that the case is solved, there's no reason for you to stay in Atlanta any longer."

  "If it's all the same to you," Frank said, "we'd like to hang around for a few days. We really haven't had a chance to see the city."

  Eddings smiled. "Of course. Take your time. Just give me a call when you're ready to leave, and I'll make sure you get first-class seats on the first available flight."

  Eddings returned to the pile of papers on his desk as the Hardys left the office. Joe almost bumped into Gina as he stepped out into the corridor.

  "What are you doing here?" he asked gently. "Shouldn't you be resting or something?"

  Gina smiled weakly. "I tried to sleep, but I couldn't. After everything that's happened, I figured you'd be leaving." She stared up into Joe's eyes. "I didn't get a chance to say goodbye to Solomon, and I didn't want you guys to disappear without some kind of farewell."

  "We're not going anywhere for a while," Frank said. "This case isn't over yet."

  "It isn't?" Joe responded with surprise.

  "Think about it," Frank said. "If Mapes was running the luggage theft ring, who sabotaged Eddings's private jet? Would Mapes deliberately damage the landing gear when he knew he was going to be flying the plane himself?"

  "I hadn't thought about that," Joe replied. "And Mapes told us about the sabotage. If he was responsible, he'd try to cover it up." He paused and frowned. "So who sabotaged the plane—and why? Was it the Assassins? But why would they want Eddings dead?"

  Frank looked at his brother. "Eddings told us Forrester was supposed to fly to Bayport for the meeting with Dad, but he backed out at the last minute."

  Joe nodded. "That's right—and his air force background would give him the expertise to make the sabotage look like an accident."

  "None of that tells us why he would do it," Gina pointed out.

  "Maybe Solomon found out that Forrester was taking payoffs to forge employee records," Frank ventured, "and Mapes was blackmailing Forrester."

  "Are you saying Forrester had Solomon killed?" Gina responded.

  Frank shook his head. "The guys who killed Mapes aren't common hired hitmen. They must be Assassins.

  "The whole picture is still a little fuzzy," he continued. "But if we can find some evidence linking Forrester to the sabotage, we can fill in the details later."

  "Let's go down to the hangar where Eddings's jet is stored and ask a few questions," Joe suggested.

  It took a while to find the hangar, and they had a few problems getting inside. Even though the Hardys still had their Eddings ID cards, they had difficulty explaining why a couple of baggage handlers needed to see Michael Eddings's private jet.

  "We can't let just anybody come stomping in here to gawk at Mr. Eddings's plane," the mechanic who barred the door explained.

  "So access to the plane is restricted?" Frank responded.

  "You bet," the mechanic said. "And that's not all. A few weeks ago the security guys started checking the plane whenever Mr. Eddings was going to fly somewhere. I guess they were worried about a crackpot sneaking a bomb on board or something."

  Frank and Joe exchanged a glance. "Did somebody from security check the plane before Mr. Eddings flew up to Bayport a few days ago?"

  The mechanic thought for a moment and then nodded. "Yeah. The head of security, Hank Forrester, came down and personally inspected the plane."

  Chapter 16

  FRANK TURNED TO his brother. "I think it's time we had a little talk with the chief of security."

  "What are we going to talk about?" Joe asked as they walked away from the hangar. "We don't have any proof that Forrester sabotaged Eddings's plane. We aren't even sure we have a motive."

  "This is a switch," Frank remarked. "Usually you want to jump into action while I'm still poring over the details."

  "I just think we need some kind of plan before we go barging in on Forrester," Joe said.

  Frank smiled. "Don't worry."

  Joe shot a sidelong glance at his brother. He knew what was coming next.

  Frank's smile widened. "I have a plan."

  "I hate it when you say that," Joe grumbled. "What's your brilliant idea this time? Dress me up like a girl and have me bat my eyelashes at him until he tells me his deepest secrets? Whatever it is, I'm not going to do it."

  "If anybody has to do any eyelash batting," Gina spoke up, "I'll do it. If Forrester had anything to do with Solomon's death, I want to make sure he doesn't get away with it."

  Frank saw the determination in her eyes. He didn't feel comfortable about Gina's joining them on the case, but he knew he couldn't convince her to stay on the sidelines. He also had a strong hunch that Joe would side with her if the issue came to a vote. So Frank shoved his concerns off to the side and concentrated on his plan.

  The idea was still growing when they reached the Eddings Air offices. By the time Forrester finally agreed to see them, the scheme was complete.

  "Okay, here's the plan," he whispered to Joe and Gina as they walked past the icy glare of the stiff receptionist. "I'll do the talking."

  Joe waited for the rest of the plan. Frank didn't say anything else. Joe stared over at his brother. "That's it?"

  Frank nodded. "Think you can handle your part?"

  "Gee, I don't know," Joe muttered. "It sounds pretty complicated."

  Forrester seemed to be annoyed when the three of them went into his office. "Don't hold your breath waiting for me to congratulate you," he said tersely. "You didn't make my job any easier. In fact, Mapes's death complicates the whole — " He stopped himself and looked at Gina. "I'm sorry," he said in a softer tone. "You were there, weren't you?"

  Gina gave a slight nod. "He died in my arms."

  "That's what we wanted to talk to you about," Frank cut in. "Since you're the head of security, we thought we should tell you what Mapes told us just before he died."

  Forrester leaned back in his chair and frowned. "I heard he died almost instantly."

  "He hung on for a few minutes," Frank replied. "He was in pretty bad shape. He kept babbling something about sabotage, and Eddings's private plane, and some kind of proof he had at his house."

  Forrester let out a deep breath. "I see. Did he say anything else?"

  Frank shook his head. "No, at least not anything coherent. Like I said, he was in pretty bad shape."

  "Yes," Forrester said slowly. "Chances are he was suffering from some kind of delirium. I doubt if his rantings meant anything. Still, you can't be too careful, can you? I'll look into it."

  "Shouldn't we tell the police?" Joe asked, jumping into the act.

  Forrester stood up. "Yes, yes, of course. I'll contact them. I'm sure you're all anxious to put this tragic incident behind you. Don't worry about police reports or anything like that. I'll take care of everything."

  After Forrester ushered them out of his office, Frank headed for the parking lot where they had left their rented car the night before. Joe was right on his heels, and Gina stubbornly insisted on coming along. With Frank at the wheel, Joe beside him, and Gina in the backseat, they drove out of the lot and pulled up next to the underground garage where the Hardys had followed Mapes.

  "This is a private garage for executives," Gina explained. "Solomon had a parking spot here because he was Eddings's personal pilot. Forrester parks his car here, too."

  "Do you know what kind of car he drives?" Frank asked.

  Despite the day's events, Gina managed a soft chuckle. "He has a dark brown, two-door sedan with a spotlight mounted on the driver's side door. It looks just like an unmarked police car."

  A few minutes passed. The
re was no sign of Forrester's car.

  "I still don't understand what's going on," Gina said. "What do you think Forrester will do? Nothing you said in his office was true."

  "Forrester doesn't know that," Frank pointed out. "If he has nothing to hide, he'll turn the information over to the police, and that will be the end of it."

  "But if he's guilty," Joe added, "he'll want to get rid of the supposed evidence as soon as possible."

  "I get it," Gina said. "We're waiting to see if Forrester goes to Solomon's house to look for the 'proof that isn't there." She lapsed into silence for a minute.

  Joe glanced back at her. He could tell that something was bothering her. "What's on your mind?" he asked.

  "I was thinking about Danny and Ted," she answered. "What's going to happen to them when this is all over?"

  "With a little luck," Frank said, "nothing will happen to Danny. I don't think he had anything to do with the theft ring. The silver luggage tags and the stolen jewelry in his apartment had 'frame' written all over them."

  "And Ted?" Gina asked.

  "That's different," Joe told her. "But if he turns himself in, he'll probably get a light sentence."

  "He can't run forever," Frank said. "Sooner or later, the law will catch up with him."

  Gina leaned forward and pointed out the window. "It looks like you were right about Forrester. That's his car coming out now."

  They followed the car for a while, but it didn't take long to confirm what they already suspected. "He's headed toward Solomon's house," Gina said.

  Forrester parked in Mapes's driveway and hurried to the front door. Frank pulled over to the curb a few houses away and watched Forrester ring the doorbell, wait a few seconds, and then try turning the doorknob without success. He glanced around quickly, pulled something out of his pocket, stuck it in the lock, and wiggled it around.

  "If I didn't know Forrester was such an upstanding citizen," Joe remarked, "I'd say he was using a lock pick to break into Mapes's house."

  "Security is his business," Frank said. "He knows all the tricks."

  Forrester pushed the door open and slipped inside.

  "What now?" Gina asked.

  "Now we call the police," Frank answered. He wheeled the car around and drove to a gas station they had passed a few blocks back. At the pay phone, he punched in 911 and reported a break-in at Mapes's address. Then he jumped back in the car and drove back to the redbrick ranch house to wait for the police to arrive.

  A few minutes later a squad car pulled up. Frank and Joe got out and went over to talk to the two officers, a gray-haired man and a young woman. Frank told them they had seen a suspicious character break into the house. The veteran police officer told them to stay clear of the area and then cautiously entered the house with his young partner.

  Frank and Joe were just getting back in the car when they heard a muffled popping noise that sounded as if it was coming from inside the ranch house. The two brothers looked at each other. "That sounded like gunshots," Joe said.

  Frank nodded. "Those officers may need some help. I don't think they called for any backup. You two stay here. I'll see if I can use a phone in one of these houses."

  "Nobody lives in half of these places," Gina told him. "They're all brand-new homes. Solomon bragged about what a great investment it was, but I think the developers are having trouble getting people to buy the houses."

  Frank looked around the neighborhood. The first time the Hardys had been to Solomon's house had been in the middle of the night. This time Frank had been too preoccupied with Forrester's movements to notice that most of the houses didn't have curtains on the windows, cars in the driveways, bikes on the front walk, or any of the typical signs that made a house look like a home.

  "I'll just have to pound on doors until somebody answers," he said, and dashed off to the nearest house with any sign of life.

  Joe slid into the driver's seat, and Gina moved into the front seat next to him. Joe had no idea what he would do if Forrester bolted out of the house, but he had no intention of sitting back and watching the man get away. He clenched the steering wheel and waited.

  "Look!" Gina exclaimed, pointing at the house.

  Joe's grip relaxed a little as he watched the gray-haired police officer back slowly out of the house, his gun drawn. Whatever had happened inside, the police now had the situation under control.

  Joe's relief was short-lived. As the older police officer backed down the porch steps with his gun aimed at the front door, his young female partner emerged from the house with Forrester. But if the situation was under control, Forrester was the one controlling it—because he was holding a gun to the woman's head.

  Chapter 17

  JOE HELD HIS BREATH. It was a standoff between Forrester and the gray-haired police officer. The policeman had his gun leveled a Forrester—but Forrester was holding the woman officer in front of him and had a gun presse against the side of her head. If Forrester fired there was no chance that he would miss.

  "You!" Forrester shouted to the older police officer. "Throw down your gun or youi partner is dead."

  Joe watched helplessly. Forrester's face was red and contorted. If he got any more rattledj he just might pull the trigger.

  "Take it easy," the officer with the gun said in a steady voice.

  Joe had to strain to hear the words from where he sat in the car a short distance down the block.

  "Nobody's gotten hurt yet," the police officer continued. "Give up now, and it won't go that badly for you. Just put down the weapon and let Hemmings go."

  "Not a chance," Forrester responded. "Throw your gun down in the grass right now or Officer Hemmings gets an early retirement."

  "Frank should have found a phone by now," Joe whispered to Gina. "More police should be here any minute."

  "I'm tired of dancing around," Forrester shouted, shoving the gun barrel harder against the woman's head.

  "Now, just consider what you're doing," the gray-haired police officer said in a slow, even tone, his own pistol not wavering.

  "Consider what you're doing," Forrester shot back. "You're signing your partner's death warrant. Believe me, I'll kill her before I'll let you take me in."

  The police officer obviously believed him. He tossed his gun onto the lawn and raised both hands in the air.

  Joe's sense of frustration and anger doubled as he watched Forrester force the two officers to sit on the sidewalk and bound them back-to-back with their own handcuffs. Joe glanced up and down the street. "Where's Frank?" he muttered. "Where's the backup?"

  His gun still pointed at the two on the ground, Forrester backed over to his car, whirled around to yank open the door, and jumped inside.

  Joe couldn't believe it. Forrester was getting away! He reached across Gina and shoved her door open. "Get out!" he yelled, half pushing her out of the car.

  As soon as she was clear, he started the engine and punched the gas pedal. The underpowered car didn't exactly rocket down the street, but it picked up speed as it homed in on the dark brown sedan backing out of the driveway of the redbrick house. Joe kept the pedal to the floor and rammed into the back side of Forrester's car with all the force he could coax out of the rented car.

  The force of the collision knocked Forrester's car sideways. Joe jumped out of his car and dragged the stunned Forrester from the brown sedan before he had a chance to grab the gun on the seat beside him.

  Joe heard the wail of sirens and looked up to see Frank and Gina running down the street, followed by a half-dozen squad cars with flashing blue lights.

  After the two police officers were freed and the handcuffs were on Forrester, Frank stepped up to him. "Why did you do it?"

  "Do what?" Forrester responded in a surly voice.

  "Why did you sabotage Eddings's plane?"

  Forrester glowered at him. "I don't know what you're talking about."

  "Then what were you doing in Mapes's house?" Joe asked.

  Forrester snorted.
"I get it now. This was all a setup. Mapes didn't tell you anything. There isn't any proof of sabotage. You don't have a shred of evidence against me."

  Frank shrugged, glancing at the two police officers who had tangled with Forrester. "Even if we can't prove you sabotaged the plane, there's plenty of evidence to convict you for assaulting a police officer."

  "Make that assault with a deadly weapon and kidnapping," the gray-haired police officer spoke up. "That adds up to a long stretch behind bars."

  ***

  Pizza was the main item on the menu that night at Danny Minifee's apartment, just like the first night the Hardys had spent there. But Joe couldn't help thinking how different things were now. Solomon Mapes was dead, Ted Nance was on the run, and Danny was facing charges for a crime he probably didn't commit.

  Joe looked over at Gina. She was pale and subdued. She didn't say much except that she didn't feel like being alone. Joe knew she was thinking about Solomon.

  Frank was about to say something to break the heavy silence in the room when the front door swung open. Frank and Joe both leapt up off the couch.

  Danny Minifee stood in the doorway, a travel bag in one hand. Joe collapsed back on the couch. "You're lucky we didn't tackle you," Joe said with a sigh. "It's been that kind of day."

  Danny shook hands with Frank and Joe. "I took your advice. I came back and talked to the police. I was ready to stand trial, but it looks like I won't have to."

  "Why not?" Frank asked. "What made them change their minds?"

  "They picked up Ted Nance a few hours ago," Danny explained. "He told them everything, starting with how he and Mapes framed me.

  Danny looked at Gina. "Hey, in spite of everything, I'm still sorry about what happened to Solomon."

  Gina struggled to smile. "I know he loved me. I'm sure those terrorists must have forced him to go along with them when they took me hostage. Solomon would never have hurt me."

  Frank decided it would be cruel to disagree with her at this point. "There are still a lot of unanswered questions," he said.

  "It seems to me that everything's tied up in a neat bundle," Danny responded. "I don't know anything about any terrorists, but I can tell you Ted is naming names, nearly a dozen of them. Briggs is one of them."