Final Cut (12 page)

"Shut up, Norris! This is no time for panic. We're not caught yet, and we're going to get out of this. Just calm down and do as I say."

But Norris wasn't about to calm down. He backed away from his employer, his eyes wide and glassy.

"No! I haven't hurt anyone!" His voice was thin and ragged. "I just drove a truck, that's all! I'm not putting my neck on the line for you, Graham! I'm giving up, and the rest of you can do whatever you like."

Freed walked up to Norris, slapped him hard across the face, and stuck the barrel of his gun under the secretary's chin.

"Nobody is walking out of here, you follow me? Nobody is making any deals with the cops! I'll shoot you right here and now, friend, you hear me? You better believe it, 'cause I got nothing to lose. So stay put and keep your trap shut."

Freed walked away, leaving Norris frozen with fear, rubbing his face where Freed had hit him.

Ritchey, who had been standing off to the side, now confronted Graham.

"Give me my gun," he demanded.

Graham shook his head. "I'm hanging on to this for now," he said.

Ritchey moved forward and shouted, "No! I want - " Graham fired a single shot over Ritchey's head, making the standin cower back.

A gunshot cracked outside, breaking the momentary silence. It was followed by a fusillade of shots, dozens of them. In a far corner of the factory, glass shattered as windows broke.

"What are you shooting at?" Freed yelled at Graham. "You see what you started?"

Graham stayed where he was, but Frank and Joe knew that he was just waiting for the right time to make a run for it. Norris crouched down, clapping his hands over his ears.

Only Freed held his ground, gun raised, coiled and tense, like a wild animal that knows it is being stalked. Intent on the threat from outside, he had backed closer to the prisoners chained to the wall.

Joe looked at Frank with a question in his eyes. Frank gave a slight shake of his head. He wasn't close enough to try to take Freed, or to go for the key.

"Hold your fire! Ceasefire!" came the angry voice of Lieutenant Weller. The shooting died out. "Attention, you inside. Come out now, with your hands up. This is your last warning."

"No! Don't shoot!" screamed Norris. He threw himself at Freed from behind with hysterical energy. Fear had given the mousy secretary a desperate strength.

As Freed bucked and lurched in his attempt to dislodge the man, the key ring in his pocket dropped to the floor. Keeping an eye on the struggling Freed, Frank reached out, but the keys were a foot beyond his grasp.

"Joe!" Frank whispered urgently. "Can you get them?"

Carefully Joe maneuvered his chained legs around until he got a foot on the key ring. He kicked out with both legs, and the keys sailed toward Frank, who caught them on the fly.

Quickly he freed his own legs, then slid over to get Joe loose. "I'll take Graham," said Joe. "You tackle Freed."

The brothers moved together. Frank hit Freed with a shoulder below the knees, knocking him down along with Norris, and jolting the gun loose from Freed's grasp. The thug landed on Norris and rolled free, reaching for his automatic. But Frank grabbed one of the heavy leg irons and brought it down hard on Freed's wrist. Freed howled with pain, and Frank scooped up the .45.

Meanwhile Joe came up behind Graham, who was peering out into the building, looking for the cops. Grabbing the mastermind by the shoulder, he spun him around and hit him with a hard right in the midsection. Graham doubled over, dropping his gun.

As Joe bent down to pick it up, Vic Ritchey suddenly darted forward, screaming, "Gimme that gun!" and leapt on Joe's back, knocking him forward. Joe arched his back and, grabbing Ritchey's arm, flipped him over his shoulder. Wasting no time, he yanked the standin toward him by the collar, and knocked him cold with a left hook to the jaw. Then he looked back for the gun.

It was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Graham.

Frank saw that Ritchey and Norris were both out of it. He trained the gun on Freed and said, "It's all over, Sam. Clasp your hands behind your head."

Sullenly Freed did as he was told.

Now Graham appeared from the shadows. In his hand was the automatic, and the gun was pointed at Callie.

"Drop it, Frank," Graham called, "or your girlfriend gets it."

Frank hesitated for a moment.

"You heard me, Hardy!" Graham shouted. "Do it, right now, or - unh!"

From behind him Headcase sprang out and grabbed Graham's gun arm, jerking it up. The gun went off, unloading into the ceiling. Joe raced forward to help the soundman pull the gun away from Graham.

While Frank covered the gang, Joe quickly freed Addison, Callie, and Trish. All were shaken, but basically unhurt.

"Guess you can tell the cops to come in now," said Trish.

"Oh, right!" exclaimed Frank. "I almost forgot about that." He raised his voice. "Everything is cool! Come on in."

The heavy steel door rumbled open.

In walked Alvin, the driver. There was no one else with him. He carried a bullhorn in one hand and a metal device in the other.

Freed stared in disgust at the driver.

"I knew it! The punks suckered us! Serves me right for getting mixed up with a bunch of wimps and losers like this!"

Trish was still confused. "Where - what happened to the police?" she demanded.

"There were no police, Trish," Frank said. "Just Alvin and Headcase and a little electronic simulation."

"What?" Trish asked, startled. "I don't follow - how did - ?"

"Alvin, show the girl," Headcase suggested. The driver stepped forward, carrying a portable electronic panel like the unit that the special-effects man had used to detonate simulated shots by remote control earlier that day.

"You mean there was nobody else out there just now?" demanded Jim Addison. "Just Alvin and some electronic gadgets?"

Alvin nodded with a bashful smile. "Headcase and I followed you guys with all his equipment. Once Frank and his girl were dragged in here, we set the blanks into the walls, all around the building. Then I set 'em off."

Joe scowled at Frank. "This must all have been your idea! It figures. Leave it to you to come up with something as scatterbrained as this."

"Hey, it worked, didn't it?" Frank said. "Anyway, Headcase had a lot to do with the planning, too."

"But how did Headcase and Alvin know where this place was?" Joe asked. "How come they weren't spotted?"

"Let me show you," Headcase said, running over to where his amplifier and microphone still lay. "It's this gimmick I put together a while back. It's a tracker, see, with about a one-mile range." He brought back a metal object like a cigar box with an antenna and a couple of lights and dials. "It receives signals from a transmitter - show them, Frank!"

Frank unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt. There, taped to his chest, was a small flat gadget. A wire antenna ran out of it, the top of which was taped just below Frank's collar.

"See, we just followed Frank and Callie from about a quarter mile behind. When Norris came in here, I got inside before the door rolled shut and set up my speakers. I listened in on you all with that shotgun mike, and when it looked like shooting was going to start, I spoke up. And I wore a wireless mike," Headcase finished up, showing the little device clipped to his shirt. "That way Alvin could hear what was going on from outside!"

Callie said, "So that's what you stopped off at the studio for!"

Frank shrugged and smiled. "Well, I had an idea that we could use some backup. I figured that we might not be able to send for the police quickly enough if things suddenly turned violent. So Headcase and I sort of worked this thing out. It was his idea to bring in Alvin. He doesn't talk much, but in a tight spot he does come through."

"One more thing," said Trish. "How did you break the windows in this place if you only used blanks? That's a pretty neat trick."

Alvin grinned bashfully. "What it was, was rocks. I threw some rocks, and that's what broke the windows."

"And now," said Frank, "I think we'd better call the police for real and hand this bunch over."

"Chief Collig isn't going to be too pleased with us," Joe stated darkly.

"But since we're giving him all the rotten eggs in one neat basket," Frank answered, "I don't think there's much he can do."

Trish shook her head. "You could never sell this story for TV," she said. "No one would ever buy it!"

Shortly afterward, the real police were called, and a whole detachment of Bayport's finest came to haul away Graham and his men, with Chief Collig in the lead. As predicted, the chief wasn't very happy with the Hardys, but he was in no position to quarrel with success.

There had been a tearful reunion between Jim Addison and Andrea Stuart. As they drove off in her sports car, Joe heard her telling the actor how she was going to make Jim's real-life heroics pay off big at the box office.

Headcase and Alvin drove Trish back to the hotel. But before they left, she came up to Joe and smiled shyly at him.

"We still have a date for the movies," she reminded him. "I'm going to hold you to it."

"Whenever you say," replied Joe. "Provided that I can take you for something to eat first."

"It's a deal," she said happily.

Later that evening the Hardys and Callie sat in their living room drinking some of their aunt Gertrude's cocoa.

"That Jim Addison," said Gertrude, smiling brightly. "What a sweet man he is! The idea that anyone could think he was a murderer - honestly!"

"Oh, that reminds me, boys," said Fenton. "I have a message for you. From Hector Ellerby."

"A note of congratulations for a job well done?" asked Joe with a smile.

"Well, not exactly," replied his father. "Here's the note."

He handed Joe a slip of paper. Joe read the contents out loud.

"'To Frank and Joe,' " he read. " 'Your work call tomorrow is six a. m. Please be on time. We've lost a few days, and we still have a show to finish!'"

The End.

Frank and Joe's next case:

Callie Shaw invites the Hardys to Runner's Harbor, a hotel in Barbados run by her cousins. But just as the brothers arrive, they're met by a horrifying host. Then things get even scarier. From trapdoors and secret passages to ghostly gunmen, the young detectives come face-to-face with the mysterious spirit world. It seems Runner's Harbor has a skeleton in every closet - and they're all out to put the brother team into an early grave ... in The Dead Season, Case #35 in The Hardy Boys Casefiles®.