CHAPTER V

College Freshmen

As the SPECTRE helicopter lifted off the helipad with Frank inside, Mr. Hardy skidded his motorcycle to a halt. He sneered up at the chopper helplessly as it rose, about to hover over the cliffside and make its departure over Barmet Bay. Muldoon grinned at the elder Hardy from the tiny side window.

Joe, however, did not stop. He gunned his engine even greater. Just as the chopper turned itself around to face the bay preparing to depart, Joe drove his bike off the cliff!

"Joe!" Callie and Chet screamed in terror.

"Son!" Fenton shouted, his heart nearly stopping.

Joe had banked on the momentum that he gained going towards the cliffside would propel him for a short airborne distance. It was a do-or-die gamble.

But Joe never took his eyes off the chopper's landing skids. As the bike flew off the cliff, Joe extended his arms in a dive position reaching upwards. His index and ring fingers felt the black bar. He tightened as much as he could and interlocked both hands on his hold of the one landing skid.

To the amazement of the onlookers at the helipad, Joe managed to retain his clutch on the helicopter's bar as the machine flew over the icy waters of Barmet Bay. Pride swelled within Mr. Hardy. Never taking his eyes off his dangling son, Fenton spoke to a stunned Callie and Chet.

"We need to alert the port authority ASAP," he said. "Chet and Callie, get to police headquarters on the double. I'll keep an eye out here for as long as I can," he said, lifting the binoculars to his eyes.

Immediately, the Corvette vanished up Barmet Boulevard towards Bayport police headquarters.

It took a few moments for the occupants of the SPECTRE helicopter to realize they had an intruder clinging to a landing skid. Muldoon flung open the door and peered out.

"Klein!" he cried to someone inside. "Crowbar! We have a leach on our shoe."

A crowbar was handed to Muldoon who promptly swung it at Joe's fingers. Joe winced in pain. A second strike forced the brave Hardy to let go of the landing skid with his left hand. Muldoon flashed his wolfish grin as he prepped to strike a third time.

Inside the chopper, Frank was set on the floor, still bound and gagged. With both Klein and Muldoon gawking over the open door, Frank snaked towards them. As Muldoon brought the crowbar down, Frank kicked as hard as he could despite his limitations at Muldoon's Achilles tendon.

Muldoon lost his balance and tumbled topsy-turvy out of the helicopter into the raging waters of the bay below!

"Say…" Klein growled as he turned to face Frank. Frank responded with a quick thrust to Klein's shin. The blow sent Klein backwards plummeting into the waters just as Muldoon bobbed up, drenched and arms flailing.

Spurred by Frank's heroics, Joe summoned all his strength to hoist himself up into the chopper. Undeterred by the disposal of his cronies, the SPECTRE pilot swerved to and fro so as to dismantle the aggravating youth. Joe, however, would not be denied. When he successfully pulled himself into the helicopter, Frank's eyes widened.

"Frank!" Joe exclaimed breathlessly as he dashed to his brother's aid. Removing a Swiss army knife from a secret compartment in his boot, Joe quickly disabled the bounds that had fastened Frank down for so long. When Joe ripped the rag out of Frank's mouth, the older Hardy breathed out a large sigh.

"How did you do it, Joe?" Frank asked with pure awe in his voice.

"I don't know," his brother replied with a wink. "But Callie was sure impressed!"

"Callie?" Frank replied with concern. "Is she okay?"

"Better than us," Joe answered. "Now what are we going to do?"

By now the pilot knew he was outnumbered. As he was flying over the bay, his own options were limited.

"Would love to know where they were going to take me," Frank muttered. "Who's behind this anyway, do we know?"

"SPECTRE," Joe replied grimly. "That's what Dad says."

"SPECTRE?" Frank replied in surprise. "The terrorist organization?"

"I'll update you what I know," Joe answered quickly. "Look, Frank!" Joe pointed to a tugboat down in the bay ahead of them. "We either try to deal with the pilot, or bail."

"I don't think I want to spend any more time in here," Frank said. "Come on!"

Without a moment's notice Frank dove into Barmet Bay. Joe followed behind him. The Hardys made perfect dives into the unfriendly waters. The helicopter continued on out towards the Atlantic.

The tugboat, operated by an old seaman named Frederickson, saw the two figures in the water. Throwing them lifesavers, he helped the freezing Hardys into the tugboat.

"Why, I've been out in these here waters for fi'ty years and I ain't never seen such acrobatics in my life!" Frederickson intoned through a series of missing teeth. "I don't reckon you have identification on yer persons?"

"They're a bit soaked at the moment," Frank answered, shaking the water out of his ears.

"How do I know you two ain't subersives to the state? I kinda keep an extra pair o' eyes out on these waters for Chief Collig et al."

"My name is Joe Hardy and this is my brother, Frank. We're Bayport residents."

Frederickson's eyes narrowed. "Hardy? As in Fenton Hardy, the detective?"

"He's our father," Frank answered wearily.

Such a name recognition as Fenton Hardy was enough for Frederickson to escort Frank and Joe to the pier, including placing a radio call to Bayport police.

Chief Collig himself met the Hardys at the dock. As they warmed up with blankets around them, Joe said, "SPECTRE very well could have Dad under full time surveillance, Chief. He'll want to be active on this case but it might be wise for him not to leave the house for awhile."

"We'll put a guard outside your house for the time being," Chief Collig assured them. "We'll also sweep the premises for bugs. Shall we take you home?"

Frank and Joe exchanged glances. "Actually," Joe said. "We can use a little cash. A loan, Chief. Can you get a message to Mom and Dad that we're going to be traveling for a few days?"

"Certainly," the Chief replied pulling out a ten-dollar bill. "Where to?"

"Connecticut. Can you drop us at the bus station?"

The boys caught an overnight Greyhound to Bedford, Connecticut. On the way, in between hungry bites from cheese sandwiches purchased at the bus terminal, Joe filled Frank in on SPECTRE and the heist Mr. Hardy was working on with Dr. Jones.

"I don't know much else," Joe stated. "But we're about to find out more. I hope."

At dawn, the bus deposited the passengers at the Bedford terminal. It took less than a half hour for the Hardys to walk to the site of Marshall College, a sleepy campus on this day since it was the start of winter hiatus.

"Let's see if we get lucky," Joe said. The two dashed up stairs of a building with a bell tower above the entrance. Inside, they found a lone receptionist, a Mrs. Fairweather, doing a crossword puzzle.

"Hello," Frank said. "We're here to see Dean Jones?"

Mrs. Fairweather looked at the lethargic, disheveled youths over her spectacles. "May I ask why on a Saturday morning?"

"W-w-we haven't turned in our final assignments and the Dean approved an extension," Joe stammered. Frank, keeping himself from laughing, nodded solemnly.

Frank then added, "We're just mere college freshmen, ma'am."

"I'm sorry, but Dr. Jones may have already left for Greece. I think you boys may be out of luck."

Joe and Frank excitedly looked at each other. Greece!

"Well, can we see if he's in his office?" Frank asked hopefully.

"No need," an authoritarian voice boomed behind them. "I'm right here."

The boys wheeled around. Dr. Henry Jones, Jr. was staring blandly and unimpressed at Frank and Joe Hardy!