Fenton spent the next four hours going over the information he already possessed with Frank. When they were finished, Frank went to his room for a nap. Fenton made the necessary travel arrangements, informed Laura, and then went to take a nap as well. Once the two reached their destination they would have to be constantly alert.
They arrived in Madagascar a little after seven. The time change had afforded them with extra time to begin their investigation before nightfall.
Frank watched his dad walk down the aisle and exit the plane before rising slowly and stretching. They had donned disguises in the bathroom of the Bayport Airport and picked up their tickets in their new personas.
Fenton was traveling as a vacationing businessman. His cover was vice president in charge of government contracts for Thurman Enterprises that dealt with the construction of parts used in making fighter planes.
Frank's disguise was a bit more basic. He was dressed all in black with black lipstick and eyeliner. He sported a nose ring and three earrings on one of his ears. His hair was jet black and he wore it slicked back except for one small area near the front and there it had been spiked and tinged dark blue.
He stepped into the aisle and swaggered to the exit, pausing in the open air to look at the scene around him. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he descended the steps and entered the airport. Over an hour later he hailed a taxi out front and climbed into the back seat with his luggage: a lone duffel bag that looked like it had seen better days.
"Where to?" asked the driver in broken English.
"Anywhere I can get a cheap room," Frank answered, looking out his window as the car took off.
As he rode he thought about what his father had told him earlier. These modern day pirates attacked only certain ships so they had to have a way to find out what was on the ships' cargo list. The only common thread in the piracy was the location: up to fifty miles from the shores of the small seaside town he was currently in. Priest had feared someone at the American Embassy was involved.
Not trusting anyone at the American Embassy, Priest had requested Fenton Hardy's help in infiltrating the embassy and locating the traitor. Fenton knew the job was bigger than just the one person in the embassy and suggested that rather than take out the one person would could and most likely, would, be replaced with someone else, that he be allowed to attempt to shut down the entire operation.
It was after Fenton had learned what was being done with the booty taken by the pirates that he had requested his sons be allowed to help him. The only objection had come from Story Walsh, Priest's second in command. He had been concerned that the boys, Joe especially, were not mature enough to erect the self-discipline needed to maintain a convincing cover. Priest had solved the problem by recommending Joe attend the Cadeva Boarding School a place that had been established by the United States government to train selected individuals the fundamentals of intelligence work in such a subtle way that the students didn't even realize it. The rigorous curriculum, specialized instructors and intensive physical education the students endured was designed to increase stamina and train the boys to follow orders. Those who questioned their orders were divided into two camps: those who were merely rebellious and those who might become leaders in some select service.
Frank gave a small grin, hidden by the thick mustache and bushy beard he wore. He knew Joe would fit into the latter group but he wondered how long it would have taken them to find it out. Knowing Joe, he had already realized he hadn't been in a normal boarding school. His grin vanished as his thoughts moved back to the problem at hand. They had to find Joe and the only way to do that was to infiltrate the organization.
The cab came to a stop in front of a shabby two-story wooden house. "Tu-Lynn's," the cabbie announced. "Bed and breakfast cheap," he added.
"Thanks," Frank said, opening the door. He stepped out and paid the driver; keeping in character and not giving him a tip. As the cab disappeared down the narrow street, Frank walked up to the front door and knocked.
Frank did his best to control his surprise when the door opened. He had been expecting Tu-Lynn to open the door; a woman of small stature from the sound of her name, but instead a man with dark brown skin and curly black hair, two inches taller than himself, and at least thirty pounds heavier, stood there.
"I'm looking for Tu-Lynn," Frank said, quickly hiding his surprise.
"I'm Tu-Lynn," the man said. "What do you want?"
"I need a room," stated Frank. "The cabbie said you had some available."
Tu-Lynn looked Frank over, taking in the black boots and hot leather pants topped with a black tee shirt that had the sleeves and neck cut out. "Fifty a night and one meal," Tu-Lynn told him.
Frank grimaced. "Got a cheaper one?" he asked. "I've only got a little on me until I find some work."
"You come here to work?" Tu-Lynn demanded in disbelief.
Frank shrugged. "I like to stay on the move," he said. "I work my way around."
Tu- Lynn gave Frank another once over and then stepped aside to let him enter. "I have smaller room," he said. "Twenty-five a night and one meal," he added. "But maybe I help you get work."
"Oh?" Frank asked, quirking an eyebrow.
"My brother has ship," Tu-Lynn informed Frank. "Needs help."
"What kind of help?" inquired Frank.
Tu-Lynn shrugged. "You talk to him," he said. "I show you room." He led Frank into the living room where four men were sitting at a card table playing Poker.
Frank's eyes hardened involuntarily as he spotted a man fitting the description his dad had given him of Joe's former gym teacher. "Boarders," Tu-Lynn announced. "That's Shin-Lo; Ben; Yen-to; and John," he introduced the four men.
John? I wonder if that is Baldwin's real first name or another pseudonym, Frank wondered silently.
"Who are you?" Baldwin asked.
"Tim," Frank answered. His passport read Timothy Aaron Holt but he wasn't going to give his full name because he hadn't been given theirs.
"Come," Tu-Lynn urged Frank. Frank followed his host out of the living room and through the kitchen into a small room containing a bed and nightstand. He held out his hand, palm side up.
Frank reached into his pocket and pulled out a small wad of cash. He peeled off two tens and a five and handed it to Tu-Lynn who scowled at him and threw it back at him. "No! No!" he declared loudly. "You change. Bank near dock where you talk to Tu-Mey. Pay me tomorrow."
Frank nodded and put the cash back in his pocket. He had thought about having it changed out at the airport but had vetoed the idea deciding it would be more in keeping with character to be a bit thoughtless on that count. Tu-Lynn left the room as Baldwin entered the kitchen. Frank watched with well-concealed frustration as Baldwin left the boarding house.
Frank closed the door to his room, angry because Baldwin knew where Joe was and probably on his way to him but he couldn't follow. Going after Baldwin would blow his cover and he couldn't do that just yet.
Frank tossed his meager belongings into the bottom drawer of the nightstand and then lay down on the bed.
Contact, it seemed, was going to be much easier than they had anticipated. He fell asleep thinking about how lucky he was to have landed at the same boarding house as Baldwin.
They arrived in Madagascar a little after seven. The time change had afforded them with extra time to begin their investigation before nightfall.
Frank watched his dad walk down the aisle and exit the plane before rising slowly and stretching. They had donned disguises in the bathroom of the Bayport Airport and picked up their tickets in their new personas.
Fenton was traveling as a vacationing businessman. His cover was vice president in charge of government contracts for Thurman Enterprises that dealt with the construction of parts used in making fighter planes.
Frank's disguise was a bit more basic. He was dressed all in black with black lipstick and eyeliner. He sported a nose ring and three earrings on one of his ears. His hair was jet black and he wore it slicked back except for one small area near the front and there it had been spiked and tinged dark blue.
He stepped into the aisle and swaggered to the exit, pausing in the open air to look at the scene around him. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he descended the steps and entered the airport. Over an hour later he hailed a taxi out front and climbed into the back seat with his luggage: a lone duffel bag that looked like it had seen better days.
"Where to?" asked the driver in broken English.
"Anywhere I can get a cheap room," Frank answered, looking out his window as the car took off.
As he rode he thought about what his father had told him earlier. These modern day pirates attacked only certain ships so they had to have a way to find out what was on the ships' cargo list. The only common thread in the piracy was the location: up to fifty miles from the shores of the small seaside town he was currently in. Priest had feared someone at the American Embassy was involved.
Not trusting anyone at the American Embassy, Priest had requested Fenton Hardy's help in infiltrating the embassy and locating the traitor. Fenton knew the job was bigger than just the one person in the embassy and suggested that rather than take out the one person would could and most likely, would, be replaced with someone else, that he be allowed to attempt to shut down the entire operation.
It was after Fenton had learned what was being done with the booty taken by the pirates that he had requested his sons be allowed to help him. The only objection had come from Story Walsh, Priest's second in command. He had been concerned that the boys, Joe especially, were not mature enough to erect the self-discipline needed to maintain a convincing cover. Priest had solved the problem by recommending Joe attend the Cadeva Boarding School a place that had been established by the United States government to train selected individuals the fundamentals of intelligence work in such a subtle way that the students didn't even realize it. The rigorous curriculum, specialized instructors and intensive physical education the students endured was designed to increase stamina and train the boys to follow orders. Those who questioned their orders were divided into two camps: those who were merely rebellious and those who might become leaders in some select service.
Frank gave a small grin, hidden by the thick mustache and bushy beard he wore. He knew Joe would fit into the latter group but he wondered how long it would have taken them to find it out. Knowing Joe, he had already realized he hadn't been in a normal boarding school. His grin vanished as his thoughts moved back to the problem at hand. They had to find Joe and the only way to do that was to infiltrate the organization.
The cab came to a stop in front of a shabby two-story wooden house. "Tu-Lynn's," the cabbie announced. "Bed and breakfast cheap," he added.
"Thanks," Frank said, opening the door. He stepped out and paid the driver; keeping in character and not giving him a tip. As the cab disappeared down the narrow street, Frank walked up to the front door and knocked.
Frank did his best to control his surprise when the door opened. He had been expecting Tu-Lynn to open the door; a woman of small stature from the sound of her name, but instead a man with dark brown skin and curly black hair, two inches taller than himself, and at least thirty pounds heavier, stood there.
"I'm looking for Tu-Lynn," Frank said, quickly hiding his surprise.
"I'm Tu-Lynn," the man said. "What do you want?"
"I need a room," stated Frank. "The cabbie said you had some available."
Tu-Lynn looked Frank over, taking in the black boots and hot leather pants topped with a black tee shirt that had the sleeves and neck cut out. "Fifty a night and one meal," Tu-Lynn told him.
Frank grimaced. "Got a cheaper one?" he asked. "I've only got a little on me until I find some work."
"You come here to work?" Tu-Lynn demanded in disbelief.
Frank shrugged. "I like to stay on the move," he said. "I work my way around."
Tu- Lynn gave Frank another once over and then stepped aside to let him enter. "I have smaller room," he said. "Twenty-five a night and one meal," he added. "But maybe I help you get work."
"Oh?" Frank asked, quirking an eyebrow.
"My brother has ship," Tu-Lynn informed Frank. "Needs help."
"What kind of help?" inquired Frank.
Tu-Lynn shrugged. "You talk to him," he said. "I show you room." He led Frank into the living room where four men were sitting at a card table playing Poker.
Frank's eyes hardened involuntarily as he spotted a man fitting the description his dad had given him of Joe's former gym teacher. "Boarders," Tu-Lynn announced. "That's Shin-Lo; Ben; Yen-to; and John," he introduced the four men.
John? I wonder if that is Baldwin's real first name or another pseudonym, Frank wondered silently.
"Who are you?" Baldwin asked.
"Tim," Frank answered. His passport read Timothy Aaron Holt but he wasn't going to give his full name because he hadn't been given theirs.
"Come," Tu-Lynn urged Frank. Frank followed his host out of the living room and through the kitchen into a small room containing a bed and nightstand. He held out his hand, palm side up.
Frank reached into his pocket and pulled out a small wad of cash. He peeled off two tens and a five and handed it to Tu-Lynn who scowled at him and threw it back at him. "No! No!" he declared loudly. "You change. Bank near dock where you talk to Tu-Mey. Pay me tomorrow."
Frank nodded and put the cash back in his pocket. He had thought about having it changed out at the airport but had vetoed the idea deciding it would be more in keeping with character to be a bit thoughtless on that count. Tu-Lynn left the room as Baldwin entered the kitchen. Frank watched with well-concealed frustration as Baldwin left the boarding house.
Frank closed the door to his room, angry because Baldwin knew where Joe was and probably on his way to him but he couldn't follow. Going after Baldwin would blow his cover and he couldn't do that just yet.
Frank tossed his meager belongings into the bottom drawer of the nightstand and then lay down on the bed.
Contact, it seemed, was going to be much easier than they had anticipated. He fell asleep thinking about how lucky he was to have landed at the same boarding house as Baldwin.