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Authors: Bruce Coville

Operation Sherlock (15 page)

BOOK: Operation Sherlock
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A few minutes more and the job was done. The fanatic lingered briefly, then sighed and moved away. It was hard to leave this scene of triumph, but it was too cold to stay. Besides, even though the timer had been set for well past midnight and there were several hours left before the blast would tear the island to pieces, she still had much to do to get ready for the end.

Ducking under a crossbar, the fanatic left the heart of the computer.

Left alone, the bomb continued marking off the seconds until it would destroy Anza-bora Island and everyone on it.

Wrapping up their work for the day, the gang headed in different directions. Wendy, pleading exhaustion, planned to go straight home. The twins, who had not yet started a job they had promised their father they would finish before morning, decided that home was the safest bet for them, too.

Hap, Trip, and Ray opted to head for the canteen, with the idea of getting in a few rounds of Gamma Ball before they went to bed. As it turned out, they got carried away with their game and didn't notice the time until it was almost midnight.

“Holy Moses!” cried Ray when he glanced at his watch. “My parents are going to kill me!”

“Mine, too!” cried Trip in dismay. “I should have been home an hour ago.”

Mrs. Swenson, who had been working silently behind the counter, said, “Hap, why not ask your friends to spend the night at our place? The three of you can start for home now. I'll meet you there when I'm done closing up here.”

Hap looked at the others questioningly.

“That sounds great, Mrs. Swenson,” said Ray. “But my parents…”

“I'll call your folks and take care of everything,” said Mrs. Swenson with a wink. “Yours, too, Trip.”

“It's a deal,” said Trip.

Hap smiled. “Thanks, Mom.”

Silently he made a vow to give his mother some extra help the next day. He had already been feeling pangs of guilt because she had been stuck with almost all the canteen work since he had made friends with the gang. Though she claimed she was glad to have him spend the time with kids his own age, Hap decided he had better start making some of that up to her.

“You can stay out on the beach for a while if you want,” called Mrs. Swenson as the boys headed for the door. “Just don't be too late.”

“You bet,” said Hap.

Giving Mrs. Swenson a wave, the three boys left the canteen.

They were passing the computer center a few minutes later when they saw a tall figure in a lab coat slip through the side door.

“That's funny,” said Hap. “They should have been done working hours ago.”

“Are you kidding?” asked Trip. “These scientists work whenever the mood hits them. My mother usually stays up all night when a project is really cooking.” He squinted at the figure. “I can't tell who that is. It's too dark out.”

“Maybe it's the spy!” said Ray.

“Could be,” said Hap quietly. “Look at the way he—no, I think it's a she—is walking.” Taking the others by the arms, he drew them behind a bush. “That is not the walk of an innocent person. See how she keeps checking back and forth? She doesn't want to be seen.”

Indeed, the woman was constantly looking around as if to spot any possible enemies.

“Maybe she's just nervous,” said Ray softly.

“Could be,” said Hap. “But I think we're on to something. I vote we do a little tailing.”

Ray and Trip glanced at each other, than back at the skulking figure.

“All right,” said Trip. “I'm game.”

“Me, too,” whispered Ray, pushing his glasses back up onto the bridge of his nose.

Hap put his hand on the others' shoulders and drew them back as the woman headed in their direction. A slight sea breeze rustled the leaves on the bush behind which they were hiding. In the distance they could hear the ocean.

“Now,” whispered Hap when their quarry was far enough ahead of them.

Without making a sound, the three boys slipped from behind the bush. Clinging to the shadows themselves, they followed the mysterious figure down the road.

 

Death Trap

The night was cloudy, the moon hanging over Anza-bora Island a mere sliver. The Gamma Ray stifled a groan as he stumbled over a rock and fell to his knees. It was the third fall he had taken since they began trailing the mystery woman. He needed more light!

While Hap scooted ahead so as not to lose sight of their quarry, Trip bent to help Ray up. He shivered as he did so. The salty wind blowing in from the ocean was cold.

“I think she's on to us,” whispered Ray, once he was back on his feet.

“Why?”

“She's trying to shake us. We haven't gone in a circle yet, but we've been making some awfully big loops. I can't think of a reason for anyone to take this route, except to try to dump us.”

Ahead of them, the woman glanced over her shoulder and cursed. Whoever was back there was hanging on.

Why don't they leave me alone?
she thought anxiously.
I don't want to hurt anyone
.

To her troubled mind, blowing up an entire island and all the people on it was utterly different from taking steps to prevent two or three individuals from sounding the alarm. That could involve harming someone personally!

Still, they could not be allowed to jeopardize the mission.

About a hundred yards behind the fanatic, Trip and Ray pulled Hap to a stop.

“She's figured out someone is following her,” whispered Ray, when Hap protested and tried to break free of them. “Let's hold back a bit and see if we can convince her she's lost us.”

“If we hold back we
will
lose her!” hissed Hap, shrugging himself out of their grip.

“Hap's right,” said Trip to Ray. “You're both right. I don't know what to do.”

“You two hang back,” suggested Hap. “I know the terrain better, so I can do the trailing less conspicuously. I'll keep track of the suspect—you keep track of me.”

“Good enough,” whispered Ray. “Go for it!”

Hap sprinted ahead of them. In seconds he had blended into the night landscape.

“He's good,” whispered Trip. “She'll never spot him. The problem is, I can't, either! I don't have the slightest idea where he went!”

Just then a stone landed at Trip's feet.

“It came from that way!” hissed Ray.

Following Hap's lead, they scurried into the darkness.

Are they gone?

The fanatic stopped to listen. Not a sound came through the darkness.

She frowned. Whoever was following her had been clinging to the trail so tenaciously it hardly seemed possible she had lost them. Yet there didn't seem to be anyone back there.

Wait!

A footstep on gravel. Soft, slow, infinitely patient. But definitely there.

The fanatic's frown grew harsher, deeper.
All right, you asked for it. Now we play for keeps
.

It worked!
thought Hap.
Look how careless she's getting
.

Indeed, the figure that had flitted so elusively through the night now seemed calm and confident, as if thoroughly convinced no one was following it.

Still moving cautiously, Hap kept his quarry in sight while trying to get a chance to motion Trip and Ray to join him. The moment came, and before long the other two were at his side.

“I think we're home free,” whispered Hap. “She seems to have relaxed. If we can stay quiet, I think she'll lead us right to her den.”

It wasn't long before their destination became clear.

“The power plant!” whispered Ray.

“Do you suppose she's the one who blew up the guard shack?” asked Trip nervously.

“Maybe she's planning to blow up the whole power plant,” said Hap.

“I think we ought to get help,” said Ray.

“I'd agree, if I thought anyone would believe us,” replied Trip. “But remember what happened when we tried to tell Dr. Hwa about our suspicions? We need more proof before we can do anything about this. Besides, just because she's acting suspicious, doesn't mean she's actually doing anything wrong. Heck, anyone following us would think that
we
were acting suspicious!”

“But I don't think we should just drop this,” said Hap.

“I agree,” said Trip. “Let's follow her for a while longer.”

Though the crater left by the guard shack explosion had been repaired some time earlier, the fence was still in place. However, it had not been locked for several days. The boys waited until their quarry was a fair distance down the road, then slipped through the gate.

The door to the power plant was open when they got there. They realized later that that should have clued them in that all was not right. But they were too close to the prey now; the hunting instinct overcame all common sense.

They entered the office.

The second door, leading into the plant itself, was open, too. They headed straight for it.

As they passed through that door, the first door—the door to the outside—swung silently shut.

A shadowy hand twisted a key in the lock.

The trap was sealed; the hunted had become the hunter.

The three boys passed into the power plant. The slender crescent moon was directly overhead. Its dim light filtered through the glass ceiling, making weird shadows of the tall arms that ranged the length of the great enclosed space.

“I wish we had more light,” whispered Ray. “I can't see a thing.”

As if to prove it, he stumbled over something on the floor and fell to his hands and knees.

While Trip helped Ray to his feet, Hap looked up and down the power plant. “That woman could be anywhere in here,” he whispered, awed by the plant's size and complexity.

The hint of fear in his voice made Ray and Trip more nervous than they already were.

The tide was out. The top edges of the great boxes used to harness the ocean's power rested at floor level, their recently cleaned lids still wide open.

“Should we split up to search?” asked Hap.

“No!” hissed Ray. “Let's stick together.”

They did just that, looking almost like a three-headed being as they moved forward into the plant.

Without a sound the woman they had been trailing slid to the control panel that had been demonstrated to Trip and Ray several days before.

All it took was a tap on one of the buttons…

“What was that?” whispered Trip.

The sound had come from one of the great tide boxes. The fanatic had made the lid jump a bit—just enough to attract the boys' attention.

“It came from over there,” said Ray.

Still clustered together the boys moved forward to investigate. The sound of the ocean, its waves lapping under the back wall of the building, masked their footsteps—but also made it difficult for them to hear what anyone else might be doing.

The fanatic stood trembling at the control panel.
Just a bit farther. Just a bit farther…

“Are these the boxes you told me about?” asked Hap, peering over the edge into a great Plexiglass cubicle. It was hard to see in the dim light.

Just a bit farther…

Trip and Ray joined Hap at the edge of the box. “That's one of them,” confirmed Trip.

Close enough!

The fanatic punched a pair of buttons. The ten-foot-square grilles that covered the boxes to the left and right of the boys slammed shut with thunderous force. The speed was incredible, the noise deafening. At the same time the fanatic let out a bloodcurdling scream and brought a row of lights flaring into life.

Aside from the whisper of the incoming tide, the power plant had been almost eerie in its silence. The sudden rush of movement; the unexpected, earsplitting noise; the scream; the blaze of lights—any one of these would have been enough to make a statue jump. Certainly it was enough to startle three boys who had been nervous to begin with.

Hap was the first to go. He jumped backward, and his foot came down on nothingness. Panic- stricken, he clutched at Trip for support.

Together, they tumbled over the edge of the cube.

The fanatic heard their terrified cries and doused the lights.

It was dark again.

The trap had been sprung.

Everything was going to be all right.

In the moment of triumph the fanatic failed to notice one thing: the smallest of the three boys, the clumsiest one, had done just the opposite of what any reasonable person would expect. With the sudden flare of light he had jumped forward, tripped over his own feet, and smashed his head against the floor.

Gamma Ray Gammand was out cold.

He was alone in the dark.

But he was not in the deadly cage.

Hap and Trip were not so lucky. The tap of a fingertip against a button brought the great ten- foot-square grille smashing down to seal their Plexiglass prison. Not that it really mattered. The walls were smooth as glass, and ten feet tall. Climbing out was impossible.

But they didn't know that yet.

Stunned and aching, they lay at the bottom of the cube, too groggy even to realize that the tide was coming in…

Trip Davis opened his eyes and looked up. Somewhere far above him a dim light seemed to be shining through a screen of some kind.

He shook his head and looked again.

It was the moon, shining through some sort of mesh.

His head hurt. He blinked and looked a third time. The mesh was one of the grilles that covered the tide cubes.

And he was at the bottom of the cube!

Suddenly he felt a splash of water on his arm. He looked up. An instant later it happened again. The tiniest amount of water came splashing over the cube. Trip recognized it for what it was: the leading edge of a wave. And he knew it wouldn't be long before water was pouring into the cube.

A moan next to him alerted him to the fact that he was not alone.

“Hap!” he cried, torn between delight at having someone with him, and horror that his friend was also caught in this trap. “Hap, wake up. We're in big trouble!”

BOOK: Operation Sherlock
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