The Pacific Conspiracy (4 page)

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Authors: Franklin W. Dixon

BOOK: The Pacific Conspiracy
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Chapter 6

"Now that you're here," Krinski said, "we can go."

"Go?" Joe shook his head, confused. What was going on here?

Nwali stood. "Yes, we will go."

The tone of Nwali's voice left no doubt in Joe's mind. He wasn't about to argue. They were going.

They hurried out of the theater just as the dalang was walking onto the stage.

"There has been a slight change of plan," Nwali announced as soon as they were outside. "Professor Krinski requires our assistance."

Krinski nodded, turning to face Joe as he did so. "What are two young Americans like you and your brother doing with this group?"

Joe shrugged. "Making a lot of money, we hope."

Nwali came up behind Krinski and put a hand on his shoulder. Krinski flinched at the Assassin's touch.

"These are very practical young men, as I told you," Nwali said.

The Assassin leader hailed them a taxi. Joe crowded in front with the driver, who followed the directions Krinski gave him. About twenty minutes later the car turned into a long, circular drive lined with tall palms. They pulled up in front of a huge old mansion with white stone columns flanking the front entrance.

"Wow," Frank said. "What hotel is this?"

Krinski, next to him in the backseat, smiled. "This is no hotel. This is my house."

As Joe was climbing out he caught a glimpse of another building out back. It was surrounded by a high stone wall that made it impossible to see anything other than the roof.

"This guy's so rich, that's probably the doghouse," he whispered, falling back next to his brother.

Frank smiled. "Only if it's a very big dog."

Krinski stopped at the front door. Next to it was an oversize keypad with letters and numbers just like a phone. Joe heard him punch in five digits. With a barely audible click the door swung open.

"Welcome to my home." Krinski held the door open to let the others pass through. The contrast in styles between the inside and outside of the house couldn't have been greater.

When Endang said Krinski was fascinated by America she wasn't kidding, Joe thought. A huge Dallas Cowboys poster hung on the wall directly opposite the entranceway. A photo of Humphrey Bogart hung to the right. Every wall Joe could see was painted a different Day-Glo color. He couldn't believe the interior's contrast with the muted exterior.

To Joe's left was a pair of double doors. Krinski opened them, revealing a living room with an entertainment center that looked as if it belonged on display in a state-of-the-art electronics store.

An enormous projection TV screen dominated the room. Two leather couches were arranged in an L shape in front of it. Next to the television was an elaborate stereo and CD system. In the far corner was a mainframe computer flanked by two terminals.

"Susanto!" Krinski called.

A young woman appeared in an arched entranceway on the far side of the room and smiled at Krinski expectantly. She had long blond hair with golden tan skin and was dressed in a checkered miniskirt.

"Snacks," Krinski commanded the young woman.

Susanto nodded and returned minutes later with a pot of steaming hot tea and a plate of American cookies - Oreos, Fig Newtons, and chocolate-covered graham crackers. She set them down on the coffee table, and Joe scooped up a handful. He almost inhaled the cookies, he was so glad to see familiar food.

"This is quite a collection you have here, Professor," Joe heard his brother say. Frank was standing next to a cabinet filled floor to ceiling with videocassettes. "You like gangster movies, I see."

Krinski nodded. "Especially the ones with Humphrey Bogart. I have all of them. In fact, I had one on this morning while the simulations were running." He picked up a remote control and pressed a button. The TV screen flared to life.

"I'm sure this is a fascinating film," Nwali said. "But in light of the work we must do, perhaps we can watch it some other time."

The doorbell rang.

Krinski pressed another button on the remote control, and the image on the screen changed to reveal Bob standing at the door. Behind him in the driveway was a huge tractor-trailer.

Joe knew why Nwali had agreed to take him and Frank to the wayang performance that night. The other Assassins had been busy with things they didn't want the Hardys to know about.

"Let's go," Nwali said, smiling directly at Joe. "Time to move some more groceries."

 

***

 

"What's in here? Lead weights?" Frank asked, setting his end of a crate down on a waiting dolly. The truck they were unloading was filled with more crates, all identical to those they'd unloaded onto the Hatta earlier in the day but far heavier.

"One thing's for sure," Joe replied, stopping to catch his breath. "It isn't groceries."

These crates had SMCS stenciled on the side, too, Frank noticed. Krinski had instructed them to put two on a dolly and bring them around back to the building behind the house. Bob had already wheeled the first load away.

"Come on," Frank said, grabbing hold of one of the two dollies. "Let's catch up." He was anxious to see what was inside the other building.

Joe took the other dolly and pushed it up onto the narrow concrete walk that led around to the back of the house. As they cleared the back of the mansion Frank took a glance around. No one else was in earshot.

"Did you get through to our friends before?" he asked quietly.

"Did I ever," Joe said, nodding. He finished filling in Frank on the details as they moved up alongside Bob. The Assassin pilot had stopped next to a huge metal gate set directly into the concrete wall before them. The wall ran all the way around the building; the gate in front of them was the only way in. There was a keypad beside it.

"I don't know the code," Bob said, obviously irritated. "We'll have to wait."

Half a minute later Krinski strolled up the path and punched in the code. To Frank it sounded like the same five-digit sequence as before.

"This way," Krinski said, pushing open the gate. To Frank's surprise, the stone wall extended on both sides to the actual front door of the building, forming a corridor for them to walk down.

The door into the building swung open at Krinski's touch. Frank wheeled his dolly after the professor, following him into a large, featureless room with concrete floors and high ceilings. On the opposite side of the room was an oversize dull gray metal door. Frank was eager to know what was behind it.

Krinski had them unload the crates in the middle of the floor and then return for more. It took almost an hour to unload the truck. Halfway through the job Boris and Bill showed up, which Was good. The last few crates were so heavy that all five of them were needed to move just one. Frank was hoping Krinski would unseal a crate, but he just had them stack the crates in as compact a pile as possible.

When they were done they returned to the house and discovered that Nwali had left for the Hatta. The five of them were to spend the night at Krinski's.

After Krinski showed the Hardys to the room they were sharing and said good night, Frank turned to Joe and put a finger to his lips. He mouthed the word bugged. He wasn't positive someone would be listening in, but with all the high-tech electronics Krinski had, he was taking no chances.

"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.

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