Countdown to Terror by Franklin W. Dixon Read Free Book Online

air.
    Then the guy tumbled back—over the rail and into the waters of Halifax Harbor.

Chapter 8
    "MAN OVERBOARD!" the captain shouted.
    From the lower deck, Frank and Joe could hear running footfalls as crewmen and tourists dashed for life preservers.
    They easily spotted the guy in the water by the brightly colored shirt he wore. He was floating facedown, the shirt billowing up and over his back. Frank and Joe watched as someone threw out a rope with a life preserver attached.
    But the guy in the water didn't even make an attempt for it.
    "Something's very wrong here," the captain said, slipping off his shoes and shirt. He dove into the water from the sundeck and swam over to the escaped prisoner. After hooking one arm around him and the other around the life preserver, he let the crew haul them back to the boat.
    Frank and Joe ran down to the lower deck in time to help drag the limp form of the prisoner over the side. Laying him facedown, the crew brought his arms up over his head, trying to force any water from his lungs. Only a little came up.
    "Let me," Frank said. "I know mouth-to-mouth."
    The captain shouted to the pressing crowd, "Give us some room. We have the situation in hand." The tourists moved off.
    Frank bent the guy's head back to open the breathing passage. Then he opened the man's mouth, took a deep breath, and pinching the guy's nose, leaned over to pump air into his lungs.
    But before he reached the guy's mouth, he flinched and moved back, his eyes watering.
    "What's the matter?" Joe demanded.
    "He's dead," Frank said simply.
    The captain knelt by the man, first feeling for a heartbeat, then for a pulse. "You're right," he said, abruptly standing. "Look at his lips."
    Even as they watched, the man's lips were taking on a bluish tinge.
    "Cyanosis — a typical indication of lack of oxygen," the captain said. He gave a half smile at Frank's surprised look. "During the school year I go to medical school."
    He frowned down at the still form on the deck. "Get a blanket from inside the cabin to cover him up." Then he headed up the stairs, back to his cockpit. "I'd better get on the horn to the police."
    His frowning gaze shifted from the body to Frank and Joe. "Shame about the poor guy," he said. "Drowning on such a small amount of water."
    A crewman brought a blanket to cover the dead body. "What made you jump back like that?" Joe asked after he left.
    "Something I smelled," Frank replied. "He was right about the cyanosis. But that guy didn't turn blue from lack of oxygen. I smelled cyanide on him."
    Joe blinked. "Cyanide? You mean someone poisoned him?"
    "Nope. I think he poisoned himself," Frank answered. "The smell seemed to come from around his mouth. He may have crushed a pill between his teeth."
    "Come on," Joe said in disbelief. "The next thing you're going to tell me is that he's an Assassin." He shook his head and smiled at his brother.
    The Hardys had crossed swords with the Assassins before, fighting desperate battles with these terrorists for hire. They'd thwarted an assassination attempt against a presidential candidate and an attempt to cut the Alaskan pipeline.
    But those victories had come at a high cost, Iola Morton, Joe's first love, had disappeared in a fireball from an Assassin bomb, a bomb that had been meant for Frank and Joe.
    Silence grew as Frank didn't answer his brother.
    "I mean, let's get real," Joe said. "Assassins in Halifax?"
    Frank shrugged. "You said the same thing about Assassins in Alaska," he said. "Think a minute. This guy follows their method of operation — he died rather than be captured and questioned."
    They stood beside the covered form, silent for the twenty-minute ride back to Halifax.
    It was dinnertime when the ferry docked, and since the boys were near, they headed for the Hungry Guardsman. Strange, they thought. There were no diners in the outdoor cafe area, and when Joe pushed against the door, it was locked.
    Just as he was turning away, the door popped