CHAPTER 13

"You don't know where the chip is?" Joe asked incredulously.

Liz tucked a strand of hair behind her ear nervously. "I don't know what happened to it. I remember I placed it inside another box – near the production counter. I was afraid of getting caught, so I just put it on a box that was nearest to me at that time. I left it for a while, and when I came back, the box was gone," she said in a rush.

Frank looked a bit skeptical. "Do you remember what box it was? Any labels on them?" he asked.

"Just a small plastic box where you always put a microchip inside before you ship it to your customer. I think…" she closed her eyes to concentrate, "I think the label was for a DSP chip."

"DSP?" Joe prompted.

"Digital Signal Processing," Frank supplied. "Funny, you should say that. Phil and I recently bought a DSP chip from EDevices for the science project."

"You know what, Frank?" Joe said with a sudden excited glint in his eyes, "Could you bring your board down?"

"Look, Joe, I know what you're thinking," Frank said, still skeptical about the whole idea. "I think that's a bit too far-fetched. Phil and I would have noticed the difference."

"Maybe he's right, Frank," Mr. Hardy told him. "It wouldn't hurt to check."

Liz nodded. "You probably wouldn't notice it, since we based the design using a DSP prototype," she added. "That's what made this chip different. It disguised its real function. And I also…uh, sort of altered the label on it."

"All right, all right. I'll get it," Frank grumbled with a resigned sigh. He stood up and left the room.

He came back a few minutes later with the board. He showed it to Liz. She began scrutinizing each components on the board.

Her eyes suddenly widened when she recognized one component. "That's the chip!"

"But how's that possible? You can see the printed label on the chip," Frank argued. "See it printed here EDSP123. That's the right product we have chosen."

"No, it's EDSP12B," Liz corrected him. "The letter B is missing that straight line. I scratched it out to disguise it. It's a Beta prototype."

"I'd say she's right, Frank," Joe remarked as he took the board and looked at it through a magnifying glass. "But how could Morris know that Frank has it?"

"Mr. Garcia must have noticed it was exchanged," Mr. Hardy told them.

"He set me up with that industrial espionage accusation," Liz told them. "He might be working with Mr. Massalski."

"And how did he or Morris know that Frank was going to buy it?" Joe asked again.

"Buying a chip like this one is not the same as going to a store where you pick one and put it in a shopping cart," Frank explained. "You have to order it directly from the company through a catalog. This is not something people buy everyday."

"So, Mr. Garcia just have to check who bought the chip recently from the database," Joe finally nodded in understanding.

"But we have to test the chip to make sure if it's the right one," Mr. Hardy suggested.

"Actually there's something I haven't figure out when Agent Karlinger explained to me about its function," Frank began. "How could it send information if there's no network connection?"

"Ah, that's where the Bluetooth protocol comes in. Are you familiar with that protocol?" Liz asked him.

Frank nodded. "I've read a little about it from a journal. That means you can transmit the information via wireless connection, like a radio transmitter," he said thoughtfully. "Then it would need to use cellular networks to do that."

Liz looked impressed. "Right, that's why I couldn't let someone like Massalski get this chip, and started to manufacture it by himself. I don't think you'd like to know the consequences if this chip is installed in commercial computers secretly." She looked grim.

"Then the user unknowingly transmits information from his computer to Massalski," Frank concluded. Now, he could understand why the FBI and CIA were so gung ho about this chip. If someone placed this chip inside computers of government offices, or the White House, or the CIA, an enemy could read all the classified information like a book.

"Then those thugs that tried to kidnap Liz today must have already figured out the chip is on the board," Joe pointed out. "That's why they took Bruce. He was holding the board – except it was the wrong board."

Frank frowned. "Maybe, but something isn't right here," he said thoughtfully.

"Would you mind sharing your idea?" Joe asked impatiently.

"It's probably nothing. Just forget it," he told him with a dismissal wave.

Joe sighed and rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

"We still need to figure out where they had taken Bruce," Mr. Hardy spoke up. "If those kidnappers realized they have the wrong board, I'm not sure they're going to release Bruce and search for the chip again, or trade him with the chip."

"Then come on, let's test that blasted thing!" Joe urged, getting impatient. He was anxious for action.

"Hold on, Joe. Can you help me search something from my room?" Frank suddenly asked him.

Joe looked at him strangely. If he had interpreted correctly, Frank was making an excuse to talk to him alone.

"Okay," he replied slowly as Frank pulled him by his elbow and headed out of the room. His brother led him to his room.

"All right, what's up?" Joe demanded, crossing his arms across his chest.

"You might think I'm crazy, but I saw Gray Man today," Frank told him.

"Gray Man?" Joe exclaimed.

"Shhh!"

"Where did you see him?" Joe asked, lowering his voice.

"At the police station. I think he disguised himself as an FBI or a CIA agent."

"Do you think the Assassin is involved in this?" Joe asked, suddenly looking tensed. "You know whenever we see him, the Assassin is always around the corner."

"I don't know, Joe," Frank sighed. "This case is too confusing. There's a lot of missing links."

"I know what you mean. I'm not sure if Liz's father's disappearance isn't connected either," Joe admitted.

"What about her father's disappearance?" Frank asked suddenly.

Joe quickly relayed to him Liz's story.

"It could be a different matter completely," Frank commented.

"I guess so. Now, come on, let's turn on your computer and test that chip," Joe suddenly changed the subject.

"Can't do it with this one. Need Phil's computer," Frank shook his head.

"Why not?"

"Common computers like ours are susceptible to BSOD. It's instable," he explained quickly. "I've already tried it."

"Frank, if I hear something more like ABCs, I'd swear I'm going to fling you out that window!" Joe replied exasperatedly.

"Sorry," Frank said with an amused grin. "It's Blue Screen of Death. Actually, the name is some sort of a joke. If there's an error, the screen turns blue and freezes the computer."

"Uh-huh, I get it."

"Get what?"

"Computers are just like girls. You thought you know them so well, but you could never understand them."

"I don't think I want to know where you get that kind of analogy."

"Hey, I'm the expert on girls," Joe grinned. "Anyway, haven't you forgotten Phil's lab just got fried?" he reminded Frank.

Frank muttered something under his breath as he slammed his right fist against his left palm in annoyance for the bad timing. "What about Vanessa? I know she has the same computer system like Phil's in her barn," he suggested, remembering Vanessa's mother's work with computer animation.

Joe didn't reply. He was already dialing Vanessa's number in a second.

"Hey, Van," Frank heard Joe spoke up through the receiver. "Are you still on this Friday?" Joe asked with a grin.

"Joe!" Frank groaned, and shook his head. He should have known how unpredictable his brother was.

Joe stuck out his tongue at him before returning to speak to Vanessa. He flirted for a few minutes with her.

Frank felt his face flushed as he heard his brother's impish romantic conversation with Vanessa. He tried to tune out, but it proved to be difficult. So, he deliberately walked out of his room, and went back to his father's study. His father and Liz were still discussing about the case.

When Joe arrived a few minutes later, he still had the grin on his face.

"Well?" Frank asked him.

"She has the system, but she didn't have the software that Phil has," his brother reported.

"Man!" Frank said in frustration.

"What do you think she is? An engineer?" Joe pointed out. "Anyway, I've already called someone who might have something like Phil's setup."

"Who?" Frank asked.

"Duncan."

"Duncan?" Frank frowned quizzically.

"Duncan Blackwell, remember?" Joe pointed out in annoyance at his brother's sudden short-term memory loss.

"Who is this Duncan Blackwell? Can we trust him?" Mr. Hardy suddenly asked curiously.

Frank realized his father didn't know about Duncan. They had met him not too long ago, trying to clear his name from a murder charge.

"He's Joe's, um, childhood friend," Frank explained. "He works in Datatronics."

Mr. Hardy raised his eyebrows in surprised. "I thought I knew everyone of your school friends," he remarked.

"Okay, so he was a delinquent. What's wrong of being friends with him? He's changed now," Joe blurted defensively.

"I'm not implying anything," his father replied. "I was merely surprised. I'm starting to wonder what you were doing the whole time while you were in middle school."

"Hanging out with delinquents for one," Frank added good-naturedly.

"Why am I not surprised?" Mr. Hardy said, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

"Ha, ha, very funny," Joe said sarcastically. "Come on, Frank, what do you say about it?" he changed the subject.

"I guess it doesn't hurt to talk to Duncan," Frank agreed. "But first, I think we need to talk to Bruce's parents, and tell them what had happened. They might get worried."

"Do we really have to? The police might already have done that," Joe pointed out.

"But still, I'd like to talk to them," he replied thoughtfully.

Joe knew there was no way he could change his brother's mind when he saw the determined look on his face.

"Okay, we go to Bruce's place first before meeting Duncan," Joe suggested.

"Fine by me," his brother agreed.

***

The Hardy brothers, and Liz arrived at the Prescott's home ten minutes later. The house was situated almost at the edge of Bayport. It was a single story redbrick house. Overgrown weeds sprouted all over the front lawn.

"Are you sure the police have been here?" Frank asked doubtfully, and pointed at the front door. It was ajar.

"Maybe someone's forgotten to close the door?" Joe suggested. He knocked on the door. "Hello?" he called out.

Silence.

Slowly, he pushed the door open.

"Frank, are you sure you've got the right address?" Joe asked him. "This place looks like no one's been living here!" he said, even though the room was devoid of dust and cobwebs.

"That's what Bruce had given me," Frank said, looking around the empty room curiously. No furniture. No pictures. Nothing. "Let's take a look anyway," he suggested.

The threesome began exploring the house. Joe found a couple of pizza boxes, and a few cans of beer in the refrigerator.

"But this looks like someone's been living here," Liz said to Joe.

"Guys! Come here!" Frank suddenly called out from other part of the house.

Both of them left the kitchen and went to search for Frank. They found him in a small bedroom with only a worn single bed and a dresser. Frank was holding something in his hand.

"Eww! How come you're so calm holding a piece of human skin?" Joe made a face in disgust. "Not to mention that scalp!"

Frank looked grim as he held it up for them to look. "Recognize this face?"

Joe's mouth hung open. "Frank…it's you!"