CHAPTER XVI

Mount Olympos

"You never told us you knew anyone from MI6, Dad!" Frank chided his father.

"Commander Bond and I met through our mutual acquaintances Admiral Rogers and Felix here," Mr. Hardy explained as Joe, Frank, and Chet prepared backpacks. "And with Felix the former student of Dr. Jones, it was only a matter of time before we all fell into the same orbit."

"SPECTRE gave us quite a run for our money in the Bahamas," Bond grumbled as he tied up his own pack. "But," he continued, hoisting his pack over his shoulders, "Emilio Largo's Operation Thunderball is no more thanks to the team effort," he nodded to Fenton Hardy. "Even if it's opened a new can of worms, shall we say."

"What does SPECTRE mean, anyhow?" Joe asked. "We've been wondering that this whole time."

Bond, already out the door, rattled off the meaning of the acronym. "Special Executive for Counter-intelligence, Terrorism, Revenge, and Extortion." He exited the locker room headed toward Camp Brickyard's helipad.

"Pithy," Chet replied as he trotted out after Bond.

Felix Leiter shook his head. "Talk about peas in a pod."

"Never a dull moment with Chet, Mr. Leiter," Joe deadpanned. "Are there any new double-0 openings?"

"Bond's tenure is always precarious," Leiter replied.

The group had devised a multiple frontal assault on the Acheiropoieta Monastery. Numerous vessels would approach the 3500 square mile island of Cyprus so as to distract SPECTRE's watchmen. Another pack would approach from the air. This contingent was made up of Bond, Frank, Joe, Leiter, Kaspar, and Chet.

During the preparation for embarkation, a vessel bearing the rippling yellow and white flag of the Vatican and the red flag sporting the papal coat of arms of Pope Paul VI docked. Cardinal Geraci, accompanied by a coterie of Swiss Guards led by Denys Randazzo, entered the Brickyard premise.

After a round of hellos from the Bayporters, the cardinal was led to inspect the Shroud. Once the cardinal confirmed the authenticity, it was decided some Guards would remain at base to protect the Shroud while Denys and a few others would be part of the invasion into Cyprus.

Just before the commencement of action, Mr. Hardy ticked off everyone's role: Frank, Joe and Chet in the air; Tony with the Mr. Hardy vessel; Biff and Phil Cohen with the Swiss Guard squadron. The plan was for the air regiment to infiltrate the monastery first, with the sea troop as reinforcement.

Callie and Iola remained at the camp in the event no one returned at a designated hour. Chet, in a flight suit, flashed a thumbs up as he climbed into the chopper. The others were already conversing in the pit via headsets. Less than a moment alter, Callie and Iola watched as the helicopter ascended the camp Brickyard helipad and set out into the blue sky on the Egyptian coast.

"Boys, we're about 2 ½ hours out," Leiter called out through the radio feed.

"Roger!" Joe replied enthusiastically. "Sort of like Barmet Bay below, eh, fellows?"

"You sure got a good look at it the last time we were in a chopper!" Frank joked.

Bond tossed back a parachute. "Anyone ever use one of these?" he asked from the front, his face hidden behind sunglasses and helmet.

Frank and Joe each flashed a smile. "Once or twice," Joe said. They each remembered harried moments in the past with Skyhappy Sal pilot, Jack Wayne. Bond then hoisted pairs of skis to each individual. Frank and Joe exchanged surprised glances. Noticing the Hardys' discreet glance at the other, Bond said, "I hear the resorts in Cyprus are quite charming."

Frank asked, "Do you know Dr. Jones well, Mr. Bond?"

"I met his father first, actually," Bond replied, "when a small lad. I heard him speak on King Arthur in Fountainbridge," he continued.

"We, uh, have visual on target," Kaspar announced as the island of Cyprus became visible. "10 minutes out."

"Get your chute's on," Bond said somewhat urgently. "We're out in 5."

"Chute's on!" Chet echoed eagerly as he complied with the secret agent's directive. He then added, "5 minutes!"

"5 minutes!" Frank replied.

Yet no sooner did Kaspar begin his slight descent than he noticed two ex-Luftwaffe fighter jets, both Messerschmitt Bf 109s, trail the chopper. A moment later gunfire opened on the helicopter. Kaspar dexterously swerved, utilizing the flexibility of the chopper to elude getting hit.

"So much for 5 minutes," Bond quipped. SPECTRE agents Markus Bismaquer and a fellow called Braun each operated the old German warplanes procured by Blofeld.

The assault on the chopper continued unabated. As they were flying over Cyprus's Mount Olympos, a hail of gunfire blew out the tail rotor.

"We're hit!" Kaspar called.

"Everybody move!" Bond shouted, in no time leaping out of the damaged aircraft with skis in hand!

"E-everybody move," Chet stammered weakly. The plump Bayporter had no more time to lollygag, however, as Joe pushed Chet out.

The rapidly, wildly descending aircraft soon crashed into Mount Olympos as six parachuters hovered thousands of feet in the air above the fiery explosion!

"Skis on!" Bond shouted from the air as he finagled his skis onto his feet. The others, clumsily and not without difficulty given their descent towards a mountaintop, complied. No sooner did they don the skis did they land onto a snowy promontory, called Pedalium, part of the Olympos mountain range. The group then quickly skied down Pedalium, side-stepping shrubbery, crevices and other potential hazards.

"We're still some distance from the monastery," Felix explained while the group sped downhill. "But approaching it from the inland will prove a surprise."

No sooner did Leiter lay out his plan did a number of Russian aerosanis leap over hills behind the skiiers, gunfire blazing at Bond, the Bayporters, and Kaspar and Leiter!

"Surprise is on us!" Joe shouted, coasting out of the way of a barrage. The others zig-zagged in the hopes of throwing off the approaching military strength snowmobiles.

"They're gaining on us!" Chet called as he brought up the rear.

"They're only gaining on you," Bond replied from up front as he cascaded over a plateau. What the British agent didn't notice, however, was the descent of another paratrooper, from one of the stalking Messerschmitt's that downed Kaspar's helicopter. The timing was impeccable. The goon, none other than low-level freelancing thug Muldoon, tackled Bond while in mid-air. The two came crashing in a snowy fissure below the plateau.

The momentum suddenly turned in favor of SPECTRE. The exhausted ski troup knew they were outmanned and surrounded by snowmobiles and agents. With Bond suppressed by the wolfish Muldoon, they surrendered.

As they were rounded up and cuffed, a snowmobile door opened. Ernst Stavro Blofeld thrust his bald head up from the rooftop, cradling a placid, if hostile, white cat.

"The gods of Olympos are smiling upon me this day," Blofeld uttered in his Polish accent. "Now we can finally begin the ceremony."