"Actually," Frank said to O'Neill, "I hope you can keep our names out of this. We worked under your orders, so you should really be the hero."
"Oh," said O'Neill. "Urn. Well, I suppose we can arrange something like that." He began to smile. "I will need a final report, though, before we go public with the story of the rescue."
"Sure," said Frank. "And there's one other person to be picked up." He gave the address of the house near Sheridan Circle. "There's a girl tied up in the living room — Olympia Morrison. She was our contact to the Dutchman."
"Good, good. Fine. Where is our press officer?" O'Neill asked.
"I guess I owe you boys an apology," Fenton Hardy said. "Your actions are much more understandable now that I know you were working with Agent O'Neill." He glared at the government man. "You might have told me."
"Sorry, Fenton," said O'Neill, lying desperately. "It was on a need-to-know basis only. You might have tried to get involved. We couldn't risk it."
"Well," said Fenton Hardy. "I want you boys to promise me one thing. You won't do any more work for these people. Okay?"
"Okay, Dad," the Hardys promised. "We won't do any work for Espionage Resources."
The Gray Man smiled and disappeared into the crowd.
"Now, what's all this about a girl?" Callie wanted to know.
"Oh, it was terrible, Callie," Joe said. "We both tried to romance this girl to find out where the secret headquarters was. And I — " He hung his head. "I struck out. She wanted nothing to do with me. She wanted a dashing man of action— like Frank here."
"Oh yeah?" Callie's hands were on her hips.
"It's not the way it sounds," Frank said, beginning to explain.
"Really?" said Callie.
"I told you," Joe said with a grin. "You should have stuck with Pia and quit while you were ahead."
He quickly retreated as Callie glared at him.
Frank and Callie stood staring at each other in the now-empty plane.
"You know," Callie finally said, "sometimes you can be a real jerk."
"There was nothing going on with Pia," Frank said. "She wound up trying to shoot me—twice."
"I know that," Callie said. "I was wondering how long you were going to wait before you kissed me."
Frank didn't need a second invitation.
Moments later, they headed out of the plane together, laughing.
"Remind me to rescue you more often," Frank said.
"Don't hold your breath," Callie retorted. "After this adventure, I just want a good long rest."
"The seminar will be over soon," Frank said. "Then we'll hop a plane home — "
"No way!" Callie cut him off. "You can come along with me if you want, but I'm telling you right now, I'm going home by bus."
Frank shrugged. "Okay, Greyhound, here we come. But if somebody wants to take the bus to Havana - "
The End.
Hostages of Hate Page 10