The Pacific Conspiracy

by Franklin W. Dixon

  "I want to take a shower before we hit the sack," he said, a little louder than he had to. "We'll probably have to get an early start tomorrow." He motioned for Joe to follow him into the bathroom.

  After turning on the water, he said, "We can talk now."

  "What do you think's going on?" Joe asked.

  "Building a hydrogen bomb is delicate work. Not the kind of thing that could be done on a boat that rolls with the waves. My guess is they're assembling the bomb here, in that building out back." He frowned. "This could be our chance - maybe our only chance. Let's give them time to fall asleep and then do a little exploring."

  For the next hour Frank lay silently in the darkness, waiting. Finally he sat up, reached over, and shook Joe awake. His brother's eyes popped open, and he sat up, too.

  They tiptoed barefoot out into the hall and down the stairs. Frank stopped at the keypad by the front door. A red light on it was blinking.

  "Wait a minute," Joe whispered. "He's got this entire place armed. If we go outside, we'll set off the alarm. How are we even going to get outside?"

  Frank smiled. "I know the code," he said.

  "How?" Joe asked. "Did you look over his shoulder?"

  Frank shook his head.

  "You heard the tones the numbers made?"

  Frank shook his head. "Come on. He practically gave it to us when we walked in."

  "I must have been sleeping," Joe said. "What is it?"

  Frank pointed over his shoulder at the picture of Humphrey Bogart on the wall.

  "B - O - G - E - Y," he said.

  Joe's eyes widened in fear. "You're just guessing."

  "It's an educated guess," Frank replied.

  "I hope it's right," Joe said. "Otherwise we're going to have to do some very quick explaining."

  "Forget the explaining," Frank said, leaning over the keypad. "We're going to have to do some very quick running." He took a deep breath. "Here goes nothing."

  Frank punched in the numbers. The red light Went off, and the door swung open.

  He turned to Joe and smiled. "After you."

  They moved to the back of the mansion and across the moonlit yard to the cinder-block building. Frank punched in the same code on the keypad there.

  "Easy as pie," he said, pushing the metal gate open. As he walked toward the front door he wondered again why the wall circling the building sealed the path off from the rest of the yard. It was as if there was something behind those walls Krinski didn't want anyone to see. Frank didn't much care - he was interested in what was in the building, not what was outside of it.

  When he reached the front door it was shut.

  "Locked," Frank said disgustedly, trying the knob. "Krinski's probably got the only key."

  Joe tapped him on the shoulder. "Hey," he said, pointing up at the concrete wall. "We could climb over. Maybe there's a window around the back we can get in through."

  Frank nodded reluctantly. "Krinski doesn't seem like the kind of guy to leave anything unlocked, but at this point it may be our best shot."

  Joe nodded. "Let's do it."

  Frank cupped his hands and gave Joe a boost so he could reach the top of the wall and pull himself up onto it. Joe lay flat on top of the wall and stretched a hand down to Frank, who was just able to reach it and pull himself up.

  Frank stared down at the yard below. It was almost completely empty, except for a stone sculpture of a small dinosaur at one end, away from the building.

  "Feel the inside of the wall," Joe said to him. "It's smooth as glass."

  He leaned over the edge and rubbed it. "You're right. It's a completely different texture. But why?"

  "I don't know about you, but I don't have time to figure it out," Joe said. Then, before Frank could say anything more, Joe jumped, somersaulting as he landed and rolling to his feet. He gave Frank the thumbs-up sign.

  Frank shrugged and jumped, too, landing the same way his brother had.

  "Now let's see if we can find a way in," Frank said. "Maybe around back - "

  Joe's arm shot out like a clothesline across his brother's chest, stopping Frank dead in his tracks.

  "Frank," he said, pointing across the yard. "I don't think that's a statue."

  Sure enough, Frank saw the statue moving toward them.

  "It's alive," Frank said, not believing his own words. He watched the creature move closer to them. It had to be at least eight feet long and weigh several hundred pounds. "It's a dinosaur, and it's alive!"

  "Yeah," Joe said, backing up. "Let's just hope it's not hungry."

  Chapter 7

  "That's no dinosaur," Frank said suddenly as the creature moved closer. "It's a Komodo dragon!"

  Joe swallowed hard. He had once read about Komodo dragons in National Geographic. "They're man-eaters, aren't they?"

  "They can be," Frank said.

  The creature flicked a forked tongue at them and took another step forward.

  Joe reacted by taking another step back. "This proves Krinski's crazy," he said. "What kind of lunatic has a Komodo dragon for a watchdog?"

  As if it knew they were talking about it, the dragon hissed again and let out a low rumble from the base of its throat.

  "Maybe we can run around it," Joe suggested. "It doesn't look fast."

  "Run around it and do what? Dig a hole under the wall?" Frank shook his head. "Look at those claws. If that thing caught us, we'd be finished."

  Frank was right. Each claw on the giant lizard's foot was at least six inches long.

  "What do you suggest?" Joe asked.

  "No sudden movements," Frank said, backing up against the wall. "We go out the way we came in." He cupped his hands together. "Come on. Jump up. Then you can pull me up."

  "You go first," Joe said.

  "This is no time to argue," Frank said. "That thing is moving!"

  The dragon was heading toward them, swinging its massive tail from side to side as it came. Joe put his right foot into his brother's hand.

  "Ready," Frank said. "One, two, three!"

  Frank grunted and thrust him up the wall. At the same time Joe sprang off the ground with his left foot, straining for the top edge of the wall with his fingers.

  He missed! His hands scraped the side of the wall but got nothing to grab. He came crashing down hard, and something gave in his right ankle. He reached down to grab it, his face twisted in pain.

  "Are you all right?" Frank asked.

  Joe struggled to his feet, shaking his head.

  "My ankle. I twisted it." He leaned against the wall for support.

  "We've got to try again," Frank urged.

  Joe took a tentative step away from the wall and almost collapsed in agony. He wasn't going to be doing any more jumping that night.

  "Can you support my weight?" Frank asked.

  "I'll have to, won't I?" Joe said, glancing back over his shoulder. The dragon was about fifteen feet away, silently watching.

  Joe cupped his hands. Frank jumped, caught the edge of the wall, and pulled himself up. When he lay across the top of the wall and reached for Joe's hand, their hands were a good half foot apart.

  "You're going to have to jump!" Frank said. "I can't reach down any farther, or I won't be able to brace myself."

  Joe turned around quickly to check on the dragon. It was moving again.

  "I'm jumping," he said, gritting his teeth in anticipation of the pain. "I'm jumping."

  He jumped and caught Frank's outstretched hand with both of his.

  "Don't tell me how close that thing is," he said, planting both feet against the wall. Despite the pain in his ankle he made it to the top.

  "You okay?" Frank asked.

  "Pretty much," Joe said, catching his breath. He was exhausted. He looked down at the dragon, which was just beneath them. He shook his head. "Fido, the Komodo dragon. World's best watchdog."

  "Come on," Frank said, lowering himself down the other side of the wall. "We're going back."

  "Aren't we going to
check for another way in?"

  Frank shook his head. "Your ankle could be broken. We'd better get back to our room and see how bad it is."

  Joe hobbled to the back door of the mansion. Frank punched in the code on the keypad there, and they stepped inside, finding themselves in the kitchen.

  "At least we know there's something in that building worth protecting," Joe said. "Even if we can't be one hundred percent sure it's the bomb."

  "It's not the bomb," Frank replied. "Not yet. But we do have to tell Endang about this place as soon as possible."

  Joe nodded. "Hey, look," he said, pointing to a jar on the counter. He reached inside and Pulled out a few more of the cookies Susanto had served them earlier.

  "Just so the trip isn't a total loss," he said, inching down on one while he held out another to his brother.

  Frank shook his head and walked by Joe's outstretched arm. "You're hopeless," he said.

  ***

  "I'm starving," Joe announced the next morning to Susanto. She was holding a platter of bacon, eggs, and English muffins.

  The sun was streaming in through the kitchen window although it was only seven in the morning. Joe's ankle, it turned out, was only sprained, not broken. He told the others he'd hurt it coming out of the shower that morning - the nice, hot fifteen-minute shower he'd taken. Despite the pain he felt better and certainly cleaner than he had since arriving in Djakarta. On board the Hatta they took only lukewarm sponge baths to clean themselves.

  Susanto handed him the platter, and he helped himself to his second huge portion.

  "Anybody else?" Joe offered, holding out the platter. Krinski, seated at the head of the table, shook his head, as did Frank and Bob. Boris was too busy eating to look up, and Bill was sitting quietly drinking coffee. He wouldn't start eating peanuts till a little later.

  Joe handed the platter back to Susanto. The whole situation felt weird. Here they were, a happy little family of Assassins gathered around the breakfast table, getting ready to blow up the world - or whatever - with their hydrogen bomb.

  "You enjoy the breakfast?"

  Joe smiled at Krinski. "It's delicious."

  Krinski shrugged. "That's why I like Americans. You know how to enjoy life, how to live."

  "It's easy to enjoy life when you have all the money in the world," Bob said.

  "Well, we're all going to have plenty of money," Krinski said.

  "How soon?" Joe asked.

  Boris pointed his fork at Susanto. "Should she be here now?"

  Krinsky shrugged. "She barely speaks English, but - as you wish." He clapped his hands and said something in Indonesian to Susanto. She bowed once, set the platter in the center of the table, and backed out of the room.

  "How soon are we going to have plenty of money?" Joe repeated.

  "I thought you were more concerned with avenging your girlfriend's death," Boris reminded him.

  "I'd like to do both," Joe said, taking another strip of bacon from the platter.

  "Well, don't worry," Krinski said. "You Won't have to wait much longer. Of course" - he turned and stared at Boris - "if you'd brought Professor Stavrogin here instead of eliminating him, I could have finished up a whole lot faster."

  Joe hid his expression behind another mouthful of food. He wanted to smile. He and Frank were the only ones at the table who knew that Stavrogin wasn't really dead. They'd saved the Professor back in Alaska by pretending to kill him. He was with the Network now, safe and sound.

  Bill frowned up from his teacup. "Stavrogin wouldn't have helped."

  "We could have forced him," Krinski said. "Without someone to double-check my equations this could take another two days."

  "If you're using a computer to check the equations, I can help," Frank said quietly.

  "Really?" Krinski asked. "Which programs have you worked with?"

  Frank rattled off half a dozen or so. Krinski looked impressed. "You can start this morning," the professor said.

  "Hold on," Bob said, shaking his head. "We're all supposed to go back to the boat together."

  "You can tell Nwali I insisted the boy stay," Krinski said. "If he wants to meet that ridiculous schedule of his, then I need help."

  Joe had to stuff more eggs in his mouth to keep from smiling. This was the biggest break they'd had in the case yet.

  "All right," Bob said reluctantly. He pushed his chair back from the table. "We'll contact you later in the day."

  Joe followed the other three out the front door to one of the main avenues, where they caught a cab. By the time they reached the Hatta it was midmorning. Nwali was waiting for them.

  "He is allowing the American to help with the equations?" Nwali shook his head. The leader clearly wasn't pleased.

  "We tried to bring him," Bill said.

  "Enough," Nwali said, and he turned to Joe. "I have a surprise waiting for you in your cabin, Joseph."

  "For me?" Joe asked, puzzled.

  Nwali nodded. "Come, I will show you. All of you, except Bob, please follow. Bob, go to the radio room."

  He took Joe's arm and guided him below deck. The others followed a few steps behind.

  Nwali said nothing, his eyes focused straight ahead. The younger Hardy was beginning to get a bad feeling about this.

  "Here we are," Nwali said, opening the door to the Hardys' cabin.

  Joe tried to keep his expression neutral. Sitting on Frank's bunk, holding an ice pack to her forehead, was Endang, appearing very small and very frightened.

  A million thoughts flashed through Joe's mind. Had Endang talked, told Nwali she was with the Network? No. She was too much of a professional. But what was she doing here?

  "Aren't you going to say hello to your friend, Joseph?" Nwali asked.

  "Hello," Joe said simply.

  "I saw her watching our boat from the pier and had her brought here. She must be very anxious to see you again, don't you think?"

  He continued without waiting for an answer. "Tell me, Joseph," Nwali said, "how is it that she knew where our boat was? Did you tell her?"

  Boris stepped up beside him. "I can make him talk," the Assassin growled. "Give me five minutes alone with him."

  Nwali held up a hand. "It's not necessary. I'm sure Joseph has a good explanation. Don't you, Joseph?" His voice was calm and reasonable. But his eyes were cold and dangerous.

  "How did this woman find our boat?" He leaned in closer. "And what else have you told her about us?"

  Joe swallowed hard, desperately trying to think of an answer.

  Chapter 8

  Joe opened his mouth with no idea of what was to come out.

  Just then Endang jumped up from the bunk and ran into his arms. She began babbling in Indonesian.

  "I do envy your skill with the ladies, Joseph," Nwali said. "One girlfriend dies, and you find another."

  Joe saw red but restrained himself from striking out at the terrorist leader. Nwali was talking about Gina, but Joe was thinking about Iola Morton, his first girlfriend. She had died in the very first encounter he'd had with the Assassins, a victim of a car bomb meant for him and Frank. He'd almost forgotten how much he hated the terrorists for that, how much he wanted to destroy them.

  He knew what he had to do.

  Joe twisted his face into a sneer and shoved Endang away from him. She landed on the cabin floor and immediately began sobbing.

  As Joe observed her he worked hard to keep himself from smiling. She should have been an actress.

  "This girl means nothing to me," he said.

  "But you know how we operate. You tell no one anything that might compromise our security." Anger crept into Nwali's voice. "You told this woman where to find us."

  "I don't understand what's happening!" Endang burst out, tears streaming down her face.

  "I made a mistake," Joe said, hanging his head.

  "You did," Nwali replied. He stared silently at Joe for what seemed an eternity. "A fatal one."

  Endang started crying again just as Bob
entered the cabin.

  "Krinski is on the line. He needs to talk to you immediately."

  "Of course," Nwali said. "I'll be there in a moment."

  Bob nodded and left.

  "What do you suggest we do about your mistake, Joseph?" Nwali asked. "What do you suggest we do with this woman?"

  Boris stepped forward. "The boy is useless," he said. "Let me - "

  Nwali shook his head. "I asked Joseph."

  Joe took a deep breath. He knew what Nwali wanted him to say. He knew how the Assassins operated, and he couldn't blow his cover. That would mean not only Endang's life, but his and Frank's, too. He had no choice.

  "She means nothing to me," he repeated.

  "Good." Nwali smiled. He reached into his waistband and pulled out a small pistol. "Then you won't have any problem killing her."

  He handed the gun to Joe. "Will you?"

  Joe swallowed hard.

  "Of course not," he said.

  ***

  It had been a long time since Frank had spent concentrated time in front of a computer screen.

  He'd been running numbers for Krinski for close to three hours, keying in different variables for equations whose meanings only the scientist understood. The funny thing was, Frank wasn't bored. Two weeks playing solitaire were much more boring.

  "Three more simulations to run," Krinski announced. He pushed his chair back from his computer and came over to stand behind Frank.

  "I'm very impressed," Krinski said. "You certainly seem to know what you're doing."

  "Well, Professor," Frank said, turning in his chair and looking up at Krinski, "so do you."

  Krinski laughed. "You Americans. You're never afraid to say what you think."

  Frank laughed, too, even though he hadn't told Krinski what he was really thinking: You don't trust me, Professor, do you? You've left out any information that would help me figure out what the numbers I'm working with are intended to simulate.

  What little Frank could deduce had to do with the rate of descent of a heavy object in a sort of thick, viscous fluid. How long would it take such an object to fall if it started off at ten miles an hour, twenty miles an hour, etc. There were a number of other variables in the equations as well, but Frank had no idea what they represented.