Joe popped his head in the window on the opposite side of the car, startling Elena. He put a finger to his lips, warning her to be silent. Frank called again, and Joe opened the car door with a soft click. Elena slid over and crept from the car. Signing for her to crouch, Joe led her away. They ducked out of sight behind a limousine as the policeman returned to his car.
"Which car is Vladimir's?" Joe whispered. A shrill police whistle pierced the air. Elena pointed out a BMW on the other side of the street, and they all ran to it. In seconds Joe unlocked the doors and they slid in, Elena taking the wheel. She put a key in the ignition and turned it.
The ignition wouldn't budge.
She tried another key, frantically watching in the mirror as the pobceman began a car-by-car search for her. "It will not work," she said, trying another and another. Finally, she tossed the ring in Joe's lap, reached under the dashboard, and brought out two wires. She touched them together. The car started.
"Where'd you learn to do that?" Joe asked, as the car pulled onto the street. Ahead, Frank stood in the road, waving at them.
"American television," she replied. The policeman spotted the car and began to run beside it, grabbing at the handles.
"If we stop, he'll catch us," Joe said. They raced toward Frank. Joe reached over the back seat, unlatched the back door, and flung it open. "You'll have to jump for it," he yelled at Frank through his open window.
As the car passed, Frank leapt, snatching at the doorframe. His heels scraped the pavement as he was dragged along, and, straining, he drew his knees up to his chest, lifting his feet off the ground. Twisting, he swung into the back seat of the BMW and slammed the door behind him.
"Glad you could make it," Joe quipped. "Mind telling me now what's going on?"
"In a minute, Joe," Frank said. "Elena, you mentioned Vladimir had a house in Torremolinos. Know where it is?"
"Yes," Elena said.
"Great. Take us there," he replied. "Sorry I couldn't let you in on my plan, Joe. I wanted you to react the way you did in front of Konstantin."
"Let me guess," Joe said. "When you realized what the tape was, you gave it to the disc jockey with instructions to play it over the loudspeakers when you gave the signal."
"Right," Frank said. "He had his own Stones album to play, so it seemed like I gave him the real Stones tape. When I stood up, Martin's tape went on. All I had to do was stall until Vladimir and Melendez got there."
"Good thing they were early."
Frank grinned. "No, they were right when I expected them. If you were trying to catch someone, and they said they'd meet you in a certain place at a certain time, wouldn't you try to get there first? I figured if I told them midnight, they'd be there by eleven."
"I still don't understand what we're doing," Joe said. "Everyone heard the tape. They know Konstantin's the mole, and when it all gets put together, Melendez will let us off the murder charge. So why did we need Elena, and why did we take Vladimir's car?"
"Because it's not over," Frank answered. "The Network played us for fools. Wouldn't you like to pay them back?"
Joe smacked a fist into his other hand. "I sure would."
"This business started because the Network was trying to trade for one of their agents. Now that the tape's public knowledge, it's useless as trade. But Vladimir still has the Network's agent."
"I get it," Joe said. "Vladimir would have him stashed somewhere near, but not in the consulate. So the likeliest place would be — "
"His house," Elena interrupted. They neared a two-story house with curved red tiles on the roof. Around the house was a gate, and as the car approached, a man stepped out of the gate and shut it behind him. He held out his palm, signaling the car to stop.
"Right," Frank said. "We needed Elena to show us where the house was, and Vladimir's car to get us through the front gate. Stay cool."
The car rolled to a stop, and the man, carrying a machine gun, walked up to Elena's window. "Vladimir told us to wait inside," Elena said, bluffing.
The man studied them for several moments, then said something in Russian, his finger nervously tightening on the trigger. "What does he say?" Elena asked, puzzled. "He's on to us," Frank began. "Hit it — " His words were cut off as a hail of bullets ripped into the car.
Chapter 17
THE BULLETS DENTED metal and smacked against glass, but they all bounced off.
"Vladimir must have bulletproofed his car too!" Frank said. "Quick! Roll up your window!" he ordered Elena.
But she sat, trembling, as if she'd never heard Frank speak. The man outside started turning his gun on the open spot. Joe reached over Elena, slapping the window control. The bulletproof glass rose swiftly.
"Hold on," Joe cried. From the passenger seat he stepped hard on the gas pedal and grabbed the steering wheel. The BMW lurched forward, speeding toward the gate.
Frank flung his door open. It clipped the man outside as they passed, knocking him off his feet.
He didn't get up. The car crashed through the gate and careened toward the house.
"The brake," Frank shouted. "Hit the brake!"
"I can't," Joe said. "It's too far. Elena!"
All at once Elena snapped her head up. She's in shock, Joe realized. "Elena! Get with it! Hit the brake!" Gasping in surprise, she seized the wheel and slammed on the brake.
The BMW skidded sideways and smashed into a glass-enclosed porch. In a flurry of shattered glass and scattered furniture, it came to a stop.
"Everyone okay?" Frank asked.
"I am," Joe replied. Elena still held the steering wheel, staring straight ahead and shaking. "I think Elena's had better times, but she wasn't hurt." He patted her on the shoulder, and she turned fearful eyes toward him. "Stay here and calm down, Elena. Honk the horn if you see anyone coming."
"She'll be all right," Frank said as he and Joe got out of the car. "We all are, thanks to Vladimir's mania for security."
In the light by the gate Joe could see the armed man's chest rising and falling rhythmically. "He's okay too. Just knocked out."
"Good," Frank said. "Let's go. If there's anyone inside, they couldn't have missed all that noise." He darted into the house. It was simpler than Frank had expected. Just a porch, small dining room, tiled foyer, and sunken living room. There was a tiled stair leading to the second floor.
At the top of the stairs were two Russians. One was slender, but the other bulged with muscles and stood over six feet tall. At a command from the slender man, the big man started down the stairs.
"Trouble?" Joe asked as he caught up with Frank. He spied the giant lurching toward them. Trouble, he thought.
The slender man disappeared down the hall.
"There's no time to waste," Frank said. Together, the Hardys sprinted up the stairs, startling the huge Russian.
He grabbed for Frank, and Joe slammed into him, making him stagger back. Frank ducked under the giant's grasp, stepped past him on the stairs, and slammed his fists against the back of the Russian's knees. The big man's legs buckled, and he toppled.
His hand reached out and caught Joe's shirtsleeve. Over and over they tumbled down the stairs, landing with a thud in the foyer. Frank looked at the twisted bodies below. Neither moved.
"Joe!" Frank called. He started back down the stairs. "Joe!"
Joe, dazed by the fall, lifted his head. "Don't worry about me. Go." He flashed his brother a pained grin, and Frank dashed to the upper landing to follow the slender man. Joe began to disentangle himself from the giant.
The giant lashed out, clamping his hand around Joe's throat. Joe clawed uselessly at the Russian's wrist, and as the Russian stood, he lifted Joe off his feet.
Joe let go of the giant's wrist and clapped his palms as hard as he could against the Russian's ears. The Russian dropped Joe to the floor and cupped his hands against his head. Joe scrambled to his feet.
But with a sweep of his hand the Russian knocked Joe back into the living room against the fireplace. The g
iant charged at him.
Joe bounded to his feet, backing away from the Russian's punches. "There's no need to fight," Joe said. "My brother has everything under control upstairs, so you've already lost. Let's just call it quits, okay?"
Smirking, the giant raised a meaty fist and swung down at Joe. Joe dived and tackled the Russian. With an astonished look the huge man fell forward and cracked his head into an armor breastplate hanging on the wall. He twirled twice, then crashed to the floor.
Relieved and exhausted, Joe slumped against a wall and wondered what had become of his brother.
***
Frank Hardy kicked open a door. It was one of four on the top floor, but behind it was neither the slender Russian nor the Network's agent. He unclenched his fists. The room was virtually a duplicate of Vladimir's office in the consulate, down to the file cabinets and the heavy oak desk. He checked the center door on the desk, and it slid open. He smiled. Inside were several small black books. Remember what you're here for, he told himself, though he suspected the room held a lot of information.
Almost absentmindedly, he pocketed the black books and left the room. Something moved at the opposite end of the hall, and he ducked back into the office. Frank did not understand the Russian words he heard, but the tone was clear. Hands raised, he stepped back into the hall.
At the far end stood the slender Russian, holding a pistol to the head of another man. The prisoner was slightly taller than the slender KGB agent, and his face was covered with an unruly thatch of beard. His hands were tied behind his back, and strips of surgical tape covered his eyes and mouth. Judging from the paleness of the man's skin, Frank guessed he'd been kept out of the sun a long time.
"The Network's man, I presume?" Frank said. In answer, the Russian aimed his gun at Frank's chest, and his finger tightened on the trigger.
Suddenly the Network agent's head lashed back, and his skull conked the Russian's jaw. Frank sprang down the hall. The prisoner stepped aside, and Frank spun, kicking out with his foot. The slender Russian collapsed.
"You're the American agent?" Frank asked as he helped the second man to his feet. He ripped the tape from the man's face. "What's your name?"
The man nodded. "My code name's Donner. It's about time the Network sent someone for me." His eyes slit with suspicion. "You should know that. Aren't you from the Network?"
"Yes and no," Frank replied. He unknotted the cords binding Donner's wrists, and Donner rubbed the circulation back into his hands. "It's a long story. We'll fill you in on the way out."
Donner limped slightly as they headed downstairs, and Frank offered him an arm. At the foot of the stairs they found Joe, patiently waiting.
"What took you so long?" Joe said.
"That's just what he said," Frank replied, waving a thumb at Donner. "Everyone's a wise guy."
"Who are you?" Donner asked as they cut through the dining room.
"I'm Joe Hardy, and this is my brother, Frank," Joe said. They moved across the ruined patio, heading for the wrecked BMW.
"I've heard of you," Donner said. "The Gray Man's proteges. You're supposed to be untrustworthy."
"If you don't trust us, you can always stay here," Frank suggested, but Donner winced and shook his head. Elena came out of the car as they approached. "Let's get to safety before anyone else shows up."
They ran to the gate. The man they had left there still lay on the ground, unconscious. They passed through the gate and onto the darkened street.
"We did it," Joe said. "We showed the Network how it's done."
"Wait!" Donner shouted, but it was too late. The night exploded in light, blinding them, and as Frank's eyes refocused, he saw they were caught in a semicircle of car headlights. There was nowhere for them to go but back. A bald man stepped from one of the cars.
"Very good," Vladimir said with cold pleasure. "Now I have you all."
Chapter 18
"You ARE MY prisoners," Vladimir declared, a satisfied smile on his face.
"What do you need us for?" Joe asked. He stepped between Donner and Vladimir. "You've got the name you wanted; we've got the Network's man. That was the deal."
"Silence," Vladimir said. "The exchange never took place. I am not bound by that bargain." He snapped his fingers, and two Russians shoved Konstantin into the semicircle of light. The blond man curled his lip in rage, but Vladimir laughed.
"You have given me much more than a name," Vladimir continued, staring Joe in the eye. "For the capture of this one," — like a circus barker, he swept his arm extravagantly, motioning at Konstantin — "I will become a hero of the state, with pay to match." His eyes flashed with anger. "But you annoy me, young man. You disrupt my plans, destroy my car, invade my house. You are too dangerous, you and your brother. I must be rid of you."
Vladimir pointed at Donner and Elena. "lake them." Two Russians stepped into the circle of light and grabbed them, forcing them to Konstantin's side. "They have further uses." He grinned at the Hardys. "But these two — "
"I'm surprised you managed to get out of the disco in one piece," Frank said. "You must be better than I thought to get away from Melendez."
"Yes." Vladimir glared at him icily. "Escape was a simple matter." He patted his coat pocket. "And I now have the tape. I have Konstantin. I have all I need.
"I do not need you." Two Russians appeared on either side of Vladimir. "Take them somewhere and dispose of them."
Two shots rang out, and the headlights of the car Vladimir stood next to spat glass and went dark. Desperate to stay out of the line of fire, Vladimir threw himself to the ground.
"No one goes anywhere," the Gray Man said from the darkness. His voice seemed to come from all directions at once. Frank and Joe could see no sign of him. "Didn't you think I'd follow you, Vlad? Let Donner, the Hardys, and the girl go.
"You are forgetting," Vladimir said. "My men have the Hardys in their sights. Show yourself or they will kill the boys."
"I have you in my sights," the still-invisible Gray Man said. "This is a Sterling assault rifle. I could put three bullets in you before you finish telling your men to shoot them. Is that the way you want to play it?"
Vladimir licked his lips thoughtfully. He waved his men back. "And if I give you these four," he called to the Gray Man, "I keep Konstantin?"
"Sounds fair."
"Wait!" Konstantin suddenly called out. He shook himself free of his captors. "Gray Man! I wish to defect!"
Vladimir sputtered, unable to find words to voice his anger. From the darkness the Gray Man said, "You killed Martin, right?"
"Of course," Konstantin casually admitted. "You would have done the same in my place. I wish to defect."
"You make a big mistake, Konstantin. You and I aren't alike at all," the Gray Man retorted. "I don't like moles, and I don't like killers. If I had my way, I'd send you back to your KGB masters and let them deal with you." There was a long pause. "But you can tell us a lot about both Chinese and Russian espionage, and I can't overlook that. All right, I'll help you defect, but you try anything and you'll be sorry."
"No!" Vladimir shouted, and he lunged forward, grabbing Frank. "Konstantin stays here! If I were to lose him, I would suffer in his place." A spring-operated knife popped out of his sleeve and into his hand. He pressed it against Frank's throat as they backed toward the wall. "Shoot now if you choose, Gray Man. You will hit your friend, not me. And my men will gun down your other friends. Give up."
"Seems to me like you have a stalemate," Frank said, feeling the cool sharp touch of steel on his throat. He reached into his pocket and came out with a small black book. "Maybe this can break it."
Vladimir stared, then inhaled sharply as he recognized what Frank held. "My bankbooks." Enraged, he prodded Frank under the chin with the point of the knife. "Where did you get this?"
"Same place as all the others," Frank replied. "There were a lot of them, and they all seemed to refer to bank accounts. Lots of bank accounts. Skimming funds from the KGB, Vladi
mir?"
Vladimir said nothing.
"Yeah, that's what I thought," Frank said. "That's why the KGB's London man reported you, isn't it? Your own private retirement fund, at KGB' expense."
Vladimir's arm fell away from Frank.
"Let us go, and I'll tell you where the other bankbooks are."
The knife slid from Vladimir's fingers and clattered on the ground. "Let them go," Vladimir ordered wearily. He was a beaten man, Frank knew. "Let them all go."
"Uh-oh," Joe said. "Frank, I think you overplayed our hand." Beyond the semicircle of light the other Russian agents moved forward. Two roughly shoved Elena and Donner at Vladimir and the Hardys, and a second later Konstantin joined them.
"You are traitors," a Russian outside the circle said to Konstantin and Vladimir as the others took aim. To everyone in the light he said, "You are all enemies of the state. Ready—aim—"
An arc of light ripped through the night, exposing and blinding the Gray Man and the Russians. "This is the police," came a deep Spanish-accented voice over a bullhorn. "Drop your weapons and put your hands up."
Two Russians spun and trained their weapons on the voice. Two shots exploded from the night, and the Russians jerked back, flopping to the ground. When the other Russians and the Gray Man had let their guns fall, a tall, burly man with dark hair walked into the light.
"Inspector Melendez," Joe cried. "I never thought I'd say this, but am I glad to see you."
"You are all," the inspector replied, "under arrest."
***
Frank left the ticket counter and pushed his way through the airport crowds. Ahead, Joe chatted with the Gray Man, and as he caught his brother's attention, Frank waved the tickets at him. As Frank reached them, the Gray Man was saying, "It's all cleared up. Good thing Melendez was already listening when Konstantin admitted to killing Martin. That made it much easier to get you off the hook."
"I thought you had it planned like that," Joe said.
Too Many Traitors Page 9