Never Say Die (5 page)

“Happy to meet you,” Tatyana said, offering her hand.

Nancy shook it. “I'm pleased to meet you, too. I hope you're enjoying our country.”

“Oh, yes, it is very interesting.”

They talked for a few minutes. Tatyana, Nancy learned, came from Leningrad. She had a sister,
liked rock music, and had never heard of pizza. Just as she began to describe her impressions of America, however, a sharp voice interrupted their conversation.

“Tatyana!”

All three heads turned at once. It was the woman from the pool, the short one who had scolded Tatyana for talking with George. She was standing at the end of the aisle, looking furious.

Tatyana froze.

“You must warm up for your next ride right away,” the woman said.

“But her next ride isn't for two hours,” George said.

The Soviet coach ignored her remark. Hands on her hips, she stood where she was until Tatyana rose and left. When the girl was gone, she turned to George angrily.

“Miss Fayne, in the future please do not distract Tatyana from her cycling. She is very busy. She has many events in which to ride. If you persist in your attempts to ruin her concentration, the consequences will be serious.”

“What!” George was aghast. “I'm not trying to ruin her concentration. I'm just trying to be her friend!”

“Call it what you like,” the woman said.

“It's the truth! I'd never do that to Tatyana!”

“On the contrary, you have just demonstrated that you would.”

Nancy could see that George was getting
angry, but she knew that arguing would be useless. The woman was determined to keep the two girls apart.

“George, let it go,” Nancy advised in a whisper.

“No way,” George said, turning toward Nancy. “She's accusing me of cheating.”

“I know, but she doesn't really mean it. It's just an excuse.”

“That makes it worse!”

George turned back toward the end of the aisle, but she was too late to continue the argument. The woman was gone.

“Well, how do you like that!” she remarked. “She didn't even give me a chance to defend myself.”

Nancy sighed. “It wouldn't have done any good.”

“I don't agree. I might have convinced her that I'm not trying to hurt Tatyana.”

“I doubt that,” Nancy said. “The only thing that will convince her of that is if you leave Tatyana alone.”

A look of annoyance crossed George's face, then quickly disappeared. She said nothing further about the matter, but Nancy knew that it was still bothering her.

Nancy couldn't really blame her. What the KGB was doing was unfair. Still, she hoped that George would play it safe and stay away from the
Soviet girl, especially in light of the coach's warning: “If you persist in your attempts . . . the consequences will be serious.”

• • •

That afternoon George won her quarter-final ride in the Women's 3,000-Meter Individual Pursuit. At the finish, she was four full seconds ahead of her opponent, Ute Alber of West Germany.

After the race George pedaled into the infield and climbed off her bike. She and Jon were barely speaking. Had they been fighting because of Debbi? Nancy wondered.

She didn't get a chance to find out. As George changed from her cycling shoes into sneakers, Peter Cooper walked up. With him was the reporter from the
River Heights Morning Record,
Marjorie Masters. Nancy had already passed along Peter's message, so George was expecting the interview.

“Hi,” she said, shaking Ms. Masters's hand. “Just give me a minute to stretch out, okay? I don't want to get stiff.”

George and the reporter ended up talking for twenty minutes. When they were done, Ms. Masters held up her camera case. “How about some pictures?” she asked.

“Fine,” George replied.

“I noticed a good backdrop on my way into the stadium. Can we take some shots out there?”

George glanced apprehensively at her new bike. “Uh, that's a problem. You see, my bike is valuable, and I don't want to leave it untended. Normally I'd give it to Jon to watch, but he went off to get some lunch.”

Nancy was about to offer to watch the bike herself when Peter Cooper suddenly spoke up. “Don't worry. I'll stay here and guard it for you.”

“Thanks, Peter, but that's not necessary,” George told him. “I'm sure you have more important things to do.”

“It's no problem, really. Go and have your picture taken,” he insisted, reaching eagerly for the bike.

“Wait a minute,” Ms. Masters said. “I have an idea. Why don't you bring the bike along, George? We'll include it in the shots.”

“Good idea!” George agreed.

The group walked outside. There, at a grassy area at one end of the stadium, George began to pose. Peter Cooper excused himself. He had other business to look after, he said.

“That's great, George. Okay, now turn away from the sun a little more,” the reporter directed.

“How's this?” George asked, swiveling with her bike.

“Fine, fine—now smile!”

Ms. Masters resumed shooting. As she did, Nancy stood back and absently studied the grass.
Just then, a shadow appeared next to hers. She looked up. It was Ned.

“Hi. What's up?” he asked. “You've got a frown on your face.”

Nancy smiled. “Nothing's up. I was just thinking.”

“About what happened to George yesterday?”

“Yes, that and what happened to Steven Lloyd this morning.”

Quickly she filled him in on the break-in at Lloyd Software Systems.

Ned whistled when she was finished. “Wow, it looks bad for Steven. And for George, too. She'll be devastated if she loses her sponsor.”

“Not half as devastated as she'll be if she gets killed,” Nancy remarked.

Ned cocked his head. “Does that mean you think the note, the burning tent, and the radio in the pool are all connected?”

“I don't know what to think,” Nancy admitted. “They might be, but then again it all might be a coincidence—”

She stopped. A sixth sense was warning her that something was urgently wrong. But what was it?

Everything in sight looked normal. George and Ms. Masters were shooting photos. Behind them was the backdrop the reporter had chosen—a row of pine trees. Behind the pine trees rose a row of towering aluminum flagpoles, from which
were flown the flags from the participating nations. Behind the flagpoles were the spectator stands.

The flagpoles. That was it! One of them, the one directly behind George, was out of line. It was leaning. No, it was falling—toward George!

G
EORGE!
L
OOK OUT
!” Nancy shouted.

George did not move. The flagpole was behind her, and she couldn't see it falling. “What?” she asked.

It was too late to explain. It was also too late to get to George. Nancy screamed.

Ned had already broken into a run. His long basketball player's legs churned at blinding speed. In a second he had tackled George, and the two of them were in a heap on the grass five feet away. George's bike was also clear of the pole.

The pole crashed to the ground, narrowly missing Ms. Masters. The reporter, who had
been looking through her camera lens until that moment, looked up and fainted.

“Oh no,” Nancy said. She didn't know what to do first. Quickly, she rushed over to the reporter. She was out cold.

“Ned, are you and George okay?” she shouted.

“Uh, fine—I think,” Ned answered.

“Take care of this lady, will you? I've got to check something out!”

Rising to her feet, Nancy sprinted across the grass. When it fell, the flagpole had knocked over the pine tree directly in front of it. Nancy leaped through the gap in the line of shrubbery and looked around.

There was no one in sight. Naturally, she told herself. Why should the culprit hang around?

Conducting a search was pointless, she knew. Right then the culprit was probably busy melting into the crowd. Instead, she bent down to examine the base of the fallen flagpole.

It was just as she had expected. Normally, the base was bolted to a concrete footing with four large steel nuts, but now the nuts were off. A wrench lay nearby.

Stepping back through the gap, Nancy went over to Ned and George, They were with Ms. Masters, who was sitting up, her head tucked between her knees. “Is she okay?” Nancy asked.

“She'll be all right,” Ned told her. “What did you find back there?”

“It
was
deliberate. Someone unbolted the
base, shoved the pole, then ran, using that line of pine trees as a screen.”

“Huh. I guess that means—”

“Yes,” Nancy finished for him. “There's no doubt about it anymore. Someone is definitely trying to kill George!”

• • •

Two hours later George won her semifinal ride in the Women's 3000-Meter Individual Pursuit. Afterward, as Nancy helped load George's gear into the station wagon, she mentally reviewed everything that had happened that afternoon.

Unfortunately, no new clues had developed from the flagpole incident. The spectators in the stands high above the scene had not noticed anything suspicious, according to the police. Neither had anyone who was outside the stadium.

Nancy had hoped the reporter's film might yield a clue, but that too had been a dead end. When Nancy phoned Ms. Masters later, the reporter told her that the newly developed pictures showed nothing but George, her bike, and the solid row of pine trees in the background.

It was mildly frustrating. Still, now she knew that the warning note and the incidents at the tent, the pool, and the flagpole were linked. Nancy became absolutely determined to find the culprit.

But where to begin with no clues? Nancy felt frustrated and totally helpless.

When George's car was loaded, Nancy, Ned, George, and Jon drove to Big Top Burgers in River Heights for dinner. Bess met them there. She had been to the dentist that afternoon and had not been at the velodrome.

“How'd it go today?” she asked her cousin after they had ordered and begun to eat.

“Great,” George said, sliding into the booth. “Thanks to the bike, I won the semi in pursuit. And guess who I'm up against in the final?”

“Who?”

“Monique Vandervoort, the World Junior Champion!” George said proudly.

“Wow, that's great! Sounds like it was a pretty exciting day,” Bess remarked.

“Yeah, it was exciting, all right,” Jon said sourly.

An uncomfortable silence fell. Everyone was thinking about the flagpole incident and what it meant, Nancy knew.

“Is someone going to tell me what's going on?” Bess asked after a minute.

“Nothing's going on,” George mumbled, poking at her food.

“Oh yeah? Then why the long faces?” Bess demanded.

Briefly, Nancy filled her in. When Nancy was finished, Bess folded her napkin and slapped it down on the tabletop.

“I don't believe you! How can you take this so
calmly, George? Someone is trying to kill you, don't you understand that?”

George nodded. “Sure, but what do you expect me to do about it?”

“Drop out of the Classic. Now—tonight.”

For a moment no one spoke. Bess had said what was on everyone's mind but what everyone had been afraid to suggest.

“Forget it,” George said at last. “I'm not dropping out.”

“What?”
Bess cried, her voice ringing with disbelief.

“I said, I'm staying in the competition. I've been training for it for months. Jon came all the way to River Heights just to coach me. I'd be crazy to quit.”

“You're crazy to keep going,” Bess argued. “I'm not saying that you should give up cycling forever. All I'm saying is that you should stop for this week.”

“No way.”

“George, listen to me—”

“No, you listen to me!” she interrupted. “If there's one thing I'm not, it's a quitter. I'm not going to act like a coward just because somebody's trying to scare me a little.”

The cousins glared at each other. It was an impasse. Bess wasn't going to back down, and neither was George.

“Ooh!” Bess smacked the table in fury. She
turned to Jon. “Would you please talk some sense into her?”

Everyone looked at Jon.

“Uh, I don't know what to say. I mean, I'd hate to see George quit, but I don't see any other choice.”

“Jon!” George cried.

“Well, I don't!”

“I can't believe this! I can't believe you're siding with Bess!”

“George, all the training in the world is useless if you're dead,” Jon reasoned.

“But I'm alive! I'm not dead! What do you want me to do, sit at home all day by myself?” she asked, beginning to cry.

“Come on. Why would I want that?” Jon asked.