"The van was reported stolen at two forty-eight this afternoon," said tall and graying Ezra Collig, Chief of Police, as he joined Frank and his father, Fenton in Collig's office at the Bayport police department.
Once he had confirmed something had indeed happened to Joe, Frank had called first the police and then his father. Chief Collig had opted to handle the call personally along with Sergeant Con Riley, an officer in his middle twenties with curly brown hair and brown eyes. Like Collig, Riley was a close friend of the Hardys and usually took a personal interest in any case concerning them.
"And we're back to nothing," growled Frank in frustration as Con entered the office and stood looking at a folder Collig handed him.
"Actually, in this instance, this could be a break," Con corrected him. "There was a witness to the theft. The person identified was George Marquiese."
"What do you have on him?" Fenton demanded.
"His last known address is Bodenheimer Drive," Collig informed the Hardys. "I have already had the place checked out but he wasn't there."
"Any idea where he could have gone?" Frank asked.
"Negative," was the reply.
"We need to check it out," Fenton insisted.
"Of course," Collig agreed at once. "Con, you go with them."
"This doesn't look like the home of a car thief," Frank said as the car came to a stop in the driveway of Marquiese' house."
"I know," Con admitted. "The guy has no record. Not even a parking ticket. He's an executive at Freeway Electronics and has a moderate lifestyle. It doesn't make any sense that he would steal a van."
"But is there a reason why he would kidnap Joe?" Fenton asked thoughtfully.
"That's what we're here to find out," Con said, opening the front door after double checking his pocket to make sure he had the required search warrant.
For the next two hours the three of them combed the house from top to bottom. Fenton and Con, finished with their sectors of the building, joined Frank in the upstairs bedroom.
"Got something?" Fenton asked hopefully, seeing Frank frowning at a wrinkled sheet of paper.
"Don't know," Frank answered. "I just found this. It was stuck between the bed frame and box springs. Looks like he may have been aiming for the trash but missed," he ended, indicating the small waste can between the nightstand and bed. "Got a pencil?" he asked.
Fenton pulled out a mechanical pencil and handed it to his son. Frank laid the scrap of paper on the nightstand and gently ran the led back and forth across the paper. "It's a phone number," Frank said, reaching for the phone.
"No," Fenton stopped him. "We'll trace it through the phone company. We don't want to chance tipping off Joe's kidnappers."
The three returned to police headquarters and Con put through a call to the phone company but was informed it would take a little time and he would be gotten back to before long. They had been waiting for almost forty minutes when Frank saw a familiar figure dressed all in gray enter Chief Collig's office. "What are you doing here?" Fenton demanded, leaping from the chair where he had been sitting.
"Marquiese is an Assassin," Gray informed the group, not wasting any time.
Fenton paled and sank back into his chair. "Do you know where he is?" Frank demanded, terrified. The Assassins had gone to a considerable amount of trouble to try and get Joe last July but their plan had fallen apart when Joe had avoided capture and set up his own plans for capturing the Assassins and duping the Network in the process. Now, however, it looked like the Assassins had succeeded and Joe was their prisoner.
"We have him," Gray answered. "And several of his cohorts. I was on my way to Bayport when I was notified of an attempt to trace a number to Luke Jacques. We sent an agent to pick him up but Marquiese committed suicide before we were able to prevent it." Frank knew that each Assassin was to be swallowed when capture was inevitable.
"Do you have any idea where they took Joe?" Frank asked.
"They took him to a drop off point and from there to Shore Road. He was led down to the sea and chained, with a tank, to a rock formation."
"My GOD!" rasped Fenton. "He must be out of air by now."
"If he were still there, he would have been," Gray confirmed. "But another group of Assassins picked him up."
Joe watched part of the vast array of sea life swim by him, some coming close in curiosity before turning at the last second and swimming away. Joe's anger at his predicament turned to despair as he gave up trying to loosen the new chains from his ankles. Why had they gone to so much trouble just to leave him to die? Who were they? The entire kidnapping made no sense to him. Did it matter? He wasn't going to be around much longer anyway. He checked the dial on his tank. He was almost our of air.
He looked around, trying not to dwell on the fact he was going to drown and saw two large shapes moving toward him. At first he thought maybe it was a pair of sharks but he didn't think sharks traveled in pairs. As the shapes moved closer he could see they were actually divers. Soon, Joe's arm was being held in a tight grip as the chains were removed from his ankles.
Joe was taken to the surface and hauled into a small twin speedboat with the other two divers. Joe kept quiet, having realized by now asking questions was futile. He doubted they even knew his final destination. The boat sped out to sea for close to twenty minutes before coming to a stop. One of the men picked up a round metal device attached to a rope. He hit two buttons on it then threw it overboard. A few minutes later, the water rippled and a submarine broke the surface. One of the men looked at his watch and kept his eyes focused on it. Seconds later, Joe was thrown overboard and the speedboat took off leaving Joe in the water.
Joe was alone for less than a minute before two divers appeared at his side. They must have exited the sub from a hatch beneath the boat before the sub surfaced to reach here so quickly, Joe thought. The two divers grasped Joe's arms and took him to the edge of the submarine and ushered him up a ladder to where more men were waiting for him. As Joe heard the order to have him taken below, he heard the speedboat's motor fade away.
"And we're back to nothing," growled Frank in frustration as Con entered the office and stood looking at a folder Collig handed him.
"Actually, in this instance, this could be a break," Con corrected him. "There was a witness to the theft. The person identified was George Marquiese."
"What do you have on him?" Fenton demanded.
"His last known address is Bodenheimer Drive," Collig informed the Hardys. "I have already had the place checked out but he wasn't there."
"Any idea where he could have gone?" Frank asked.
"Negative," was the reply.
"We need to check it out," Fenton insisted.
"Of course," Collig agreed at once. "Con, you go with them."
"This doesn't look like the home of a car thief," Frank said as the car came to a stop in the driveway of Marquiese' house."
"I know," Con admitted. "The guy has no record. Not even a parking ticket. He's an executive at Freeway Electronics and has a moderate lifestyle. It doesn't make any sense that he would steal a van."
"But is there a reason why he would kidnap Joe?" Fenton asked thoughtfully.
"That's what we're here to find out," Con said, opening the front door after double checking his pocket to make sure he had the required search warrant.
For the next two hours the three of them combed the house from top to bottom. Fenton and Con, finished with their sectors of the building, joined Frank in the upstairs bedroom.
"Got something?" Fenton asked hopefully, seeing Frank frowning at a wrinkled sheet of paper.
"Don't know," Frank answered. "I just found this. It was stuck between the bed frame and box springs. Looks like he may have been aiming for the trash but missed," he ended, indicating the small waste can between the nightstand and bed. "Got a pencil?" he asked.
Fenton pulled out a mechanical pencil and handed it to his son. Frank laid the scrap of paper on the nightstand and gently ran the led back and forth across the paper. "It's a phone number," Frank said, reaching for the phone.
"No," Fenton stopped him. "We'll trace it through the phone company. We don't want to chance tipping off Joe's kidnappers."
The three returned to police headquarters and Con put through a call to the phone company but was informed it would take a little time and he would be gotten back to before long. They had been waiting for almost forty minutes when Frank saw a familiar figure dressed all in gray enter Chief Collig's office. "What are you doing here?" Fenton demanded, leaping from the chair where he had been sitting.
"Marquiese is an Assassin," Gray informed the group, not wasting any time.
Fenton paled and sank back into his chair. "Do you know where he is?" Frank demanded, terrified. The Assassins had gone to a considerable amount of trouble to try and get Joe last July but their plan had fallen apart when Joe had avoided capture and set up his own plans for capturing the Assassins and duping the Network in the process. Now, however, it looked like the Assassins had succeeded and Joe was their prisoner.
"We have him," Gray answered. "And several of his cohorts. I was on my way to Bayport when I was notified of an attempt to trace a number to Luke Jacques. We sent an agent to pick him up but Marquiese committed suicide before we were able to prevent it." Frank knew that each Assassin was to be swallowed when capture was inevitable.
"Do you have any idea where they took Joe?" Frank asked.
"They took him to a drop off point and from there to Shore Road. He was led down to the sea and chained, with a tank, to a rock formation."
"My GOD!" rasped Fenton. "He must be out of air by now."
"If he were still there, he would have been," Gray confirmed. "But another group of Assassins picked him up."
Joe watched part of the vast array of sea life swim by him, some coming close in curiosity before turning at the last second and swimming away. Joe's anger at his predicament turned to despair as he gave up trying to loosen the new chains from his ankles. Why had they gone to so much trouble just to leave him to die? Who were they? The entire kidnapping made no sense to him. Did it matter? He wasn't going to be around much longer anyway. He checked the dial on his tank. He was almost our of air.
He looked around, trying not to dwell on the fact he was going to drown and saw two large shapes moving toward him. At first he thought maybe it was a pair of sharks but he didn't think sharks traveled in pairs. As the shapes moved closer he could see they were actually divers. Soon, Joe's arm was being held in a tight grip as the chains were removed from his ankles.
Joe was taken to the surface and hauled into a small twin speedboat with the other two divers. Joe kept quiet, having realized by now asking questions was futile. He doubted they even knew his final destination. The boat sped out to sea for close to twenty minutes before coming to a stop. One of the men picked up a round metal device attached to a rope. He hit two buttons on it then threw it overboard. A few minutes later, the water rippled and a submarine broke the surface. One of the men looked at his watch and kept his eyes focused on it. Seconds later, Joe was thrown overboard and the speedboat took off leaving Joe in the water.
Joe was alone for less than a minute before two divers appeared at his side. They must have exited the sub from a hatch beneath the boat before the sub surfaced to reach here so quickly, Joe thought. The two divers grasped Joe's arms and took him to the edge of the submarine and ushered him up a ladder to where more men were waiting for him. As Joe heard the order to have him taken below, he heard the speedboat's motor fade away.