Authors: Franklin W. Dixon
Survival Run (10 page)
"I only know that he is some kind of scientist and that he knows enough about my work to detect faulty equations," Stavrogin replied. "I gather that he is working with the Assassins."
"Is he here, somewhere in this complex of tunnels and caves?" Frank asked.
"I don't think so," Stavrogin said. "Several times I overheard them talking about sending the equations to him. I got the impression that he wasn't even in Alaska."
That complicated the situation but simplified the options from Frank's point of view. If Stavrogin's formula hadn't gone beyond the secret mountain base, the Hardys could activate the hidden transmitter and bring a small army of Network agents down on the Assassins' lair. If Stavrogin was right, though, then the critical information was already in the hands of terrorists in an unknown location. A Network strike now might only spur them to double their efforts and produce a bomb on a much shorter timetable.
The plan that had been cooking in Frank's brain since he found out he was to be Stavrogin's executioner was definitely starting to look like the only real option available. He could see that the physicist was a little on the old side, and more than a little worn down by his ordeal. Frank just needed the right props to pull it off.
"This may sound a bit weird," Frank said to the physicist, "but do you have any experience with hang gliders or parachutes or anything like that?"
Stavrogin's face brightened a little. "I was a paratrooper in the Russian army. I haven't jumped in years, but I'm still in good shape. I jog three miles a day when I'm home."
"That's good," Frank said, "because you're going to need all your strength and parachute training for this to work."
Joe stared at his brother. "What's the plan?"
"You stay here with Dr. Stavrogin," Frank said. "We're supposed to be guarding him, so stand outside and look like a guard."
"And what are you going to do?" Joe asked.
"Find a hang glider," Frank answered.
"Gee, that might be a little tough," Joe remarked. "The nearest store that carries hang gliders is probably two thousand miles from here."
Frank shrugged. "Then I'll just have to make do with whatever I can find."
***
Frank's first stop was the other tent in the cave. There were two cots with sleeping bags inside it. He also spotted a couple of heavy winter parkas. They didn't need the parkas in the cave, but Frank made a mental note to come back for one of them later.
Next, he had to get back to the first cave, the one that opened onto the mountain ledge. As Frank hiked up the lava tube, he heard a muffled rumble from somewhere far beneath him, and a faint tremor ran through the tunnel. He thought about the strange warmth inside the mountain and Bob's cryptic comment regarding active volcanoes. There was only one logical conclusion. The Assassins had brought the extinct volcano back to life. But how - and why?
Frank's train of thought was cut off by the sound of voices nearby. The air was cooler here, and he realized he was near the end of the lava tube. The voices were coming from the entrance cave. He waited and listened. The voices faded away. They had probably gone down one of the other two tunnels.
Frank moved forward again and cautiously stepped out into the entrance cave. It was empty except for the crates and supplies haphazardly stacked against one wall. Frank went through the pile of discarded equipment quickly. He knew exactly what he was looking for, and he soon found it buried under a portable camp stove. In fact, he found two and decided to take them both.
He carried the gear back down the tunnel to the cave where his brother and the physicist were waiting, dropped the two sacks on the ground, opened them, and spread the contents on the cavern floor.
Joe stared at the array of poles and nylon fabric. "Terrific. Two more tents. Just what we needed. Now we can each have our own and still have one left over for a visitor." He looked at his brother. "I thought you were going to get a hang glider."
"I did," Frank said. "You just can't see it yet. All the raw materials are right here. What is a hang glider, anyway? A bunch of poles, some rigging, and a big sheet of sturdy, lightweight nylon. Now, what do we have here?"
Joe looked at the assorted tent parts and realized that the essential components of a tent and a hang glider were basically the same. But he could also see that it would take major surgery to transform the tent parts into a working hang glider. "Do you really think we can do it?" he asked doubtfully.
"We don't have a choice," Frank replied grimly. "This is our only chance."
"But we don't have any tools," Joe pointed out.
Frank dug into his pants pocket and fished out his Swiss army knife. "We have this."
***
When Frank decided the glider was as good as they could make it, he folded it up, grabbed one of the parkas out of the tent, and hauled them both back up the tunnel. He prayed he wouldn't run into any of the Assassins. If they caught him now, he knew he wouldn't be able to explain away the crude flying rig.
There were more ominous rumblings from deep inside the mountain that made the ancient lava tube tremble. Frank didn't let that slow him down. The faster he got outside, the lower the risk that he'd be discovered.
When he reached the end of the tunnel, he checked the cave entrance to make sure it was empty, then dashed across it and out onto the windy, bitter-cold mountainside ledge. The sun hung low in the southern sky. This far north, Frank knew, the sun never really set in midsummer. That was good because Stavrogin's chances would be slim enough without having to steer the jerry-rigged hang glider through the mountains in the dark.
Frank stashed the glider and the parka under the camouflage tarp that covered the helicopter, then hurried back down his tunnel. When he got back to the inner cave, one of the terrorists was there waiting for him.
"Ah, there you are," Joe said as Frank came out of the tunnel. "I was just telling Boris that you went looking for the bathroom. Did you find it?"
"I didn't know you two spoke the same language," Frank replied.
"Boris speaks English," Joe said. "Not well, but you can kind of understand what he's saying. Just before you got here, he was telling me how he was going to carve his initials in my face if I didn't tell him where you were. I understood that pretty well."
"Well, I'm here now," Frank said. "What's up?"
The bearded Assassin's dark gaze shifted between the two brothers. "It is time," he said in a thick accent.
"Time for what?" Frank responded. He already knew the answer but didn't know if he was ready to face it.
The brooding Assassin pulled a .45 automatic pistol out of his shoulder holster and handed it to Frank. "Time for you to become one of us. Time to kill the old man."
Frank took the pistol from the Assassin. It felt heavy in his hand. He knew he couldn't shoot Dr. Stavrogin, but the gun might be useful if anything went wrong.
Then he remembered one of the fundamental rules his father had taught him about firearms: Never pick up a gun if you don't intend to use it. He gripped the pistol by the barrel and handed it back to Boris.
"I won't need this," Frank said.
The bearded Assassin's dark eyes narrowed. "You refuse to carry out the execution?" he growled in his heavy accent.
"I didn't say that," Frank replied. "I said I won't need the gun. There are much more interesting ways to kill a man, don't you think?"
Boris raised his eyebrows. "Oh?"
Frank nodded. "Remember those flying lessons you wanted to give us?"
A thin, savage smile curled the corners of the Assassin's mouth.
"I thought you would," Frank said. "Why don't we take the old man outside, push him off the cliff, and see how well he flies? That way we won't waste any bullets, and we won't have a body to get rid of.
The terrorist let out a cruel, harsh laugh. "That is a fine idea. You will make a good Assassin." He ducked into the tent and dragged Dr. Stavrogin out. "Come, old man. Time to go."
Stavrogin blinked and looked at Frank. "Where are we going?"
Boris laughed again and roughly pushed the physicist toward the tunnel. "You will find out soon enough."
Frank leaned over to his brother and whispered in his ear. "Stay close to our bearded buddy."
"Why?" Joe asked.
"Because you're going to accidentally trip and fall into him," Frank said.
Joe glanced at his brother. "I am?"
Frank nodded. "And it's going to be a really nasty fall, too."
"It is? How nasty?"
"So nasty Boris won't make it to the end of the tunnel."
"That's pretty nasty," Joe whispered with a slight smile.
Something roared in the depths of the mountain, and a violent tremor shook the cavern. Frank and Joe reached out and steadied each other.
"This neighborhood is getting dangerous," Joe remarked. "It used to be such a nice, quiet place. Do you have any idea what's going on?"
"I think the Assassins woke up a sleeping giant," Frank responded. "And I don't think the giant is happy about it."
Frank didn't know what the terrorists hoped to accomplish by bringing the volcano back to life. The pent-up forces churning in the magma beneath the earth's crust could easily obliterate the top half of the mountain in an explosive burst far more devastating than the most powerful nuclear weapon.
The Hardys followed the Assassin into the tunnel. Frank edged past Boris and get between him and Stavrogin.
"Keep moving!" Frank snapped, giving the physicist a light shove. Stavrogin jerked his head around, obviously confused. Frank winked at him and gave him another nudge. He had to put some distance between them and the "accident" that was about to happen. He hoped the physicist would understand that the rough treatment was only an act to fool the terrorist.
Joe's part in the act turned out to be fairly easy. A distant blast echoed up the lava tube, followed by a tremor that rippled along the passageway. Instead of putting his arms out to brace himself against the wall, Joe rolled with the shock wave and added a little force of his own as he hurled himself at his target.
"Whoa!" Joe cried out for effect as he smashed into Boris's back. The Assassin grunted and pitched forward as Joe clutched the man's arms and threw all his weight against him. With his arms pinned to his sides, Boris couldn't use his hands to break his fall. He toppled over and his head smacked hard against the rock floor.
Frank pulled his brother off the Assassin, then bent down close to the man's head. Blood trickled from a gash in Boris's forehead. He moaned softly, but his eyes were closed and he didn't move.
"He's out cold," Frank said to his brother.
"You stay here with him. If he comes out of it, stall him as long as you can."
Joe nodded. "Don't worry about Boris. I can handle him." He reached out with his right arm and shook hands with Dr. Stavrogin. "Good luck," he said with a smile. He knew the physicist would need a large dose of luck to get off the mountain alive.
Frank led Dr. Stavrogin out to the ledge on the mountainside. The bulk of the covered helicopter concealed them from anybody who might wander out through the entrance cave.
Stavrogin put on the bulky down parka while Frank lashed together the last pieces of the hang glider.
"I'm sorry we couldn't test it," Frank said as he strapped the physicist into the harness. "Do you know how to use a hang glider?"
Stavrogin's eyes darted over the contraption, and he nodded. "The aerodynamic principles are simple enough." His gaze shifted to Frank. "Do not concern yourself with me. You have given me a chance and hope, which is far more than I had before. Now you must forget about me and do everything you can to stop these madmen."
"We'll stop them or die trying," Frank assured him. He checked the rigging one more time to make sure all the lines were secure.
"One last thing," he said, reaching down and taking off his shoe. He dug out the tiny homing device. "I don't know how far you'll get in the hang glider, but I know you won't get far enough to walk out of these mountains on your own. When you land, turn on this little gadget. It shouldn't take long for friends to find you after that."
Frank showed the white-haired physicist how the homing device worked and then handed it to him.
"I cannot thank you enough," Stavrogin said.
"Don't thank me yet," Frank replied with a faint smile. "We don't even know if the thing works."
Stavrogin shrugged. "We will never know until we try it. I am ready."
Frank helped him to the end of the ledge. "Well, this is it, I guess," Frank said.
"Yes, it is," Stavrogin responded, and before Frank could say anything else, the physicist leapt off the ledge.
Frank gasped as the hang glider plunged down a hundred feet or more, then caught an updraft and soared away. Frank watched it intently, holding his breath, waiting to see if the flimsy device would fall apart and plummet out of the sky. When nothing happened after a few minutes and the glider was just an orange speck in the distance, he began to think Stavrogin had a real chance.
Then he remembered the physicist's parting words and hurried back into the cave.
A series of powerful underground explosions rocked the mountain as Frank ran down the tunnel toward the spot where he had left Joe and Boris. The Assassin was awake and on his feet when Frank got there. Frank assured the groggy terrorist that he had gotten rid of Dr. Stavrogin, which was basically the truth.
"I think we'd better get out of here," Joe said as the lava tube shuddered from the force of another subterranean blast. A section of the solid rock ceiling collapsed behind them, choking the tunnel with dust and debris.
"Good idea," Frank agreed quickly. "Let's head back to the entrance cave. I have a bad feeling this mountain is about to blow its lid, and I don't think Bob is going to hang around to watch the fireworks."
A half dozen men poured out of the other two tunnels at the same time the Hardys did. The pilot and the curly-haired Assassin were already yanking the white tarp off the helicopter.
