Tagged for Terror (11 page)

The man who had stabbed Mapes scrambled up off the floor, his knife forgotten, the fishing-rod case grasped in both hands. He dashed toward the door and collided with Joe. They both went down in a heap. The man with the gun grabbed the back of his companion's suit jacket, yanked him off Joe, shoved him out the door and rushed out after him.

"Freeze!" someone shouted down the corridor.

Several gunshots rang out in reply. Joe caught a glimpse of the two guys in nylon jackets as they darted past the open door, hot on the trail of the mystery men in suits.

Gina sank to the floor and cradled Solomon Mapes's head in her lap. "You're going to be all right," she said softly.

Mapes stared up at her. "A setup—" he gasped. "Why did — " He groaned and clutched at the gash in his chest.

"Hush," Gina said in a soothing tone. "Save your strength."

"I'll get a doctor," Joe said.

"A medical team is already on the way," someone behind Joe replied.

Joe turned to see the Gray Man standing in the doorway. The nondescript man in the plain gray suit walked into the storage room and knelt down next to Mapes.

"Mapes," the Gray Man said, "can you hear me?"

Mapes nodded weakly.

"It looks like your pals double-crossed you," the Gray Man said. "Here's your chance to return the favor. Tell me about them."

"Can't you see he's hurt?" Gina snapped. "Leave him alone!"

Mapes focused past the Gray Man, on Frank. His lips started to move, but no words came out. His teeth clenched in a fleeting grimace. Then his jaw went slack and his eyes closed forever.

Gina clasped him close to her and rocked gently back and forth. Joe's heart went out to her as he watched her tears flow.

The two clean-cut guys came into the room. The Gray Man had a brief, whispered conversation with them, then motioned for Frank and Joe to join him outside in the corridor.

"You two certainly have a talent for getting in the way," the Gray Man remarked when they were alone.

"Nice to see you again, too," Joe responded.

Frank tried to mediate. "We're here because — "

"I know why you're here," the Gray Man cut him off brusquely. "Unfortunately, by the time I found out, it was too late to pull you off the case. Now it looks like you've fouled up an important Network operation."

Frank studied the Gray Man's bland face. "Why would the Network be interested in a luggage theft racket?"

The Gray Man paused. Frank knew he hated to reveal even the smallest bit of information.

"Come on," Joe said. "We have a right to know."

"Don't push your luck," the Gray Man said flatly. "I could have you arrested on half a dozen charges, starting with assaulting a federal officer."

Joe snorted with disgust. "Give me a break. That guy didn't tell me he was a Network agent when he waved his gun in my face. You'll never make the charge stick."

"No," the Gray Man admitted, "but I could make your life very uncomfortable for a while."

"Why are you coming down so hard on us?" Joe grumbled.

"We stumbled onto something really big, didn't we?" Frank ventured.

The Gray Man didn't reply.

"Is it the Assassins?" Frank prodded.

The Gray Man sighed. "If I don't tell you, you'll keep poking around until you manage to get yourselves into really deep trouble." He moved farther away from the storage room, gesturing to the Hardys to follow. "The Assassins were using the luggage theft ring to smuggle equipment around the country."

"What kind of equipment?" Frank asked.

"That's all I can tell you," the Gray Man said.

"That's all you can tell us?" Joe shot back bitterly. "There's a dead man lying on the floor back there. We almost got ourselves killed, and that's all you can tell us?"

Joe's words prompted Frank to ask another question "Was Mapes a member of the Assassins?"

The Gray Man shook his head. "No — at least we don't think so. The Assassins don't give up their secrets easily. That's one of the reasons this operation was so important."

Frank raised his eyebrows. "One of the reasons?"

A glimmer of a smile touched the Gray Man's lips. "You don't give up, do you? I know you boys mean well, but leave this one to the pros, okay?"

The three of them walked back to the storage room, where Gina was still holding Mapes's head in her lap. Tears streaked her cheeks.

Painful memories of Iola flooded over Joe. "So what happens now?" he asked, trying to focus on the present, not the past.

"Take the girl home," the Gray Man said. "My men will take care of Mapes."

After Frank and Joe took Gina home and got one of her friends from the apartment complex to keep her company, they went to see Michael Eddings at his office. Even though no other employees were in yet, Eddings was already busily working at his desk.

"I know why you're here," Eddings said in a somber tone before Frank or Joe said anything. "The Gray Man briefed me a few minutes ago. If I had known it would end this way ... " His voice trailed off.

"Did you know about the Network operation?" Frank asked.

Eddings nodded. "The Gray Man contacted me yesterday. It still sounds unreal to me. How did Solomon Mapes get involved with a bunch of international terrorists?"

"Good question," Frank responded. "Did anybody else know the Gray Man was here on the trail of the Assassins?"

"Only Hank Forrester," Eddings replied. "He arranged security passes so the Network agents could get into restricted areas." He stood up and shook hands with Frank and Joe. "With Mapes dead, that should be the end of the luggage theft ring. You boys did quite a job. I'm almost sorry to see you go."

"Where are we going?" Joe asked.

"Home, I would imagine," Eddings said. "Now that the case is solved, there's no reason for you to stay in Atlanta any longer."

"If it's all the same to you," Frank said, "we'd like to hang around for a few days. We really haven't had a chance to see the city."

Eddings smiled. "Of course. Take your time. Just give me a call when you're ready to leave, and I'll make sure you get first-class seats on the first available flight."

Eddings returned to the pile of papers on his desk as the Hardys left the office. Joe almost bumped into Gina as he stepped out into the corridor.

"What are you doing here?" he asked gently. "Shouldn't you be resting or something?"

Gina smiled weakly. "I tried to sleep, but I couldn't. After everything that's happened, I figured you'd be leaving." She stared up into Joe's eyes. "I didn't get a chance to say goodbye to Solomon, and I didn't want you guys to disappear without some kind of farewell."

"We're not going anywhere for a while," Frank said. "This case isn't over yet."

"It isn't?" Joe responded with surprise.

"Think about it," Frank said. "If Mapes was running the luggage theft ring, who sabotaged Eddings's private jet? Would Mapes deliberately damage the landing gear when he knew he was going to be flying the plane himself?"

"I hadn't thought about that," Joe replied. "And Mapes told us about the sabotage. If he was responsible, he'd try to cover it up." He paused and frowned. "So who sabotaged the plane—and why? Was it the Assassins? But why would they want Eddings dead?"

Frank looked at his brother. "Eddings told us Forrester was supposed to fly to Bayport for the meeting with Dad, but he backed out at the last minute."

Joe nodded. "That's right—and his air force background would give him the expertise to make the sabotage look like an accident."

"None of that tells us why he would do it," Gina pointed out.

"Maybe Solomon found out that Forrester was taking payoffs to forge employee records," Frank ventured, "and Mapes was blackmailing Forrester."

"Are you saying Forrester had Solomon killed?" Gina responded.

Frank shook his head. "The guys who killed Mapes aren't common hired hitmen. They must be Assassins.

"The whole picture is still a little fuzzy," he continued. "But if we can find some evidence linking Forrester to the sabotage, we can fill in the details later."

"Let's go down to the hangar where Eddings's jet is stored and ask a few questions," Joe suggested.

It took a while to find the hangar, and they had a few problems getting inside. Even though the Hardys still had their Eddings ID cards, they had difficulty explaining why a couple of baggage handlers needed to see Michael Eddings's private jet.

"We can't let just anybody come stomping in here to gawk at Mr. Eddings's plane," the mechanic who barred the door explained.

"So access to the plane is restricted?" Frank responded.

"You bet," the mechanic said. "And that's not all. A few weeks ago the security guys started checking the plane whenever Mr. Eddings was going to fly somewhere. I guess they were worried about a crackpot sneaking a bomb on board or something."

Frank and Joe exchanged a glance. "Did somebody from security check the plane before Mr. Eddings flew up to Bayport a few days ago?"

The mechanic thought for a moment and then nodded. "Yeah. The head of security, Hank Forrester, came down and personally inspected the plane."

FRANK TURNED TO his brother. "I think it's time we had a little talk with the chief of security."

"What are we going to talk about?" Joe asked as they walked away from the hangar. "We don't have any proof that Forrester sabotaged Eddings's plane. We aren't even sure we have a motive."

"This is a switch," Frank remarked. "Usually you want to jump into action while I'm still poring over the details."

"I just think we need some kind of plan before we go barging in on Forrester," Joe said.

Frank smiled. "Don't worry."

Joe shot a sidelong glance at his brother. He knew what was coming next.

Frank's smile widened. "I have a plan."

"I hate it when you say that," Joe grumbled. "What's your brilliant idea this time? Dress me up like a girl and have me bat my eyelashes at him until he tells me his deepest secrets? Whatever it is, I'm not going to do it."

"If anybody has to do any eyelash batting," Gina spoke up, "I'll do it. If Forrester had anything to do with Solomon's death, I want to make sure he doesn't get away with it."

Frank saw the determination in her eyes. He didn't feel comfortable about Gina's joining them on the case, but he knew he couldn't convince her to stay on the sidelines. He also had a strong hunch that Joe would side with her if the issue came to a vote. So Frank shoved his concerns off to the side and concentrated on his plan.

The idea was still growing when they reached the Eddings Air offices. By the time Forrester finally agreed to see them, the scheme was complete.

"Okay, here's the plan," he whispered to Joe and Gina as they walked past the icy glare of the stiff receptionist. "I'll do the talking."

Joe waited for the rest of the plan. Frank didn't say anything else. Joe stared over at his brother. "That's it?"

Frank nodded. "Think you can handle your part?"

"Gee, I don't know," Joe muttered. "It sounds pretty complicated."

Forrester seemed to be annoyed when the three of them went into his office. "Don't hold your breath waiting for me to congratulate you," he said tersely. "You didn't make my job any easier. In fact, Mapes's death complicates the whole — " He stopped himself and looked at Gina. "I'm sorry," he said in a softer tone. "You were there, weren't you?"

Gina gave a slight nod. "He died in my arms."

"That's what we wanted to talk to you about," Frank cut in. "Since you're the head of security, we thought we should tell you what Mapes told us just before he died."

Forrester leaned back in his chair and frowned. "I heard he died almost instantly."

"He hung on for a few minutes," Frank replied. "He was in pretty bad shape. He kept babbling something about sabotage, and Eddings's private plane, and some kind of proof he had at his house."

Forrester let out a deep breath. "I see. Did he say anything else?"

Frank shook his head. "No, at least not anything coherent. Like I said, he was in pretty bad shape."

"Yes," Forrester said slowly. "Chances are he was suffering from some kind of delirium. I doubt if his rantings meant anything. Still, you can't be too careful, can you? I'll look into it."

"Shouldn't we tell the police?" Joe asked, jumping into the act.

Forrester stood up. "Yes, yes, of course. I'll contact them. I'm sure you're all anxious to put this tragic incident behind you. Don't worry about police reports or anything like that. I'll take care of everything."

After Forrester ushered them out of his office, Frank headed for the parking lot where they had left their rented car the night before. Joe was right on his heels, and Gina stubbornly insisted on coming along. With Frank at the wheel, Joe beside him, and Gina in the backseat, they drove out of the lot and pulled up next to the underground garage where the Hardys had followed Mapes.

"This is a private garage for executives," Gina explained. "Solomon had a parking spot here because he was Eddings's personal pilot. Forrester parks his car here, too."

"Do you know what kind of car he drives?" Frank asked.

Despite the day's events, Gina managed a soft chuckle. "He has a dark brown, two-door sedan with a spotlight mounted on the driver's side door. It looks just like an unmarked police car."

A few minutes passed. There was no sign of Forrester's car.

"I still don't understand what's going on," Gina said. "What do you think Forrester will do? Nothing you said in his office was true."

"Forrester doesn't know that," Frank pointed out. "If he has nothing to hide, he'll turn the information over to the police, and that will be the end of it."

"But if he's guilty," Joe added, "he'll want to get rid of the supposed evidence as soon as possible."

"I get it," Gina said. "We're waiting to see if Forrester goes to Solomon's house to look for the 'proof that isn't there." She lapsed into silence for a minute.

Joe glanced back at her. He could tell that something was bothering her. "What's on your mind?" he asked.