Danger in the Extreme by Franklin W. Dixon Read Free Book Online

into the wall—like climbing a Peg-Board.
    He let his feet fall free.
    â€œKeep going, Frank,” Jamal shouted. “You got it, buddy.”
    Salazar’s teasing voice floated down. “You stuck, Frank? Need a ladder?”
    Frank pulled the left ax free. Now he hung by one hand. With all his strength, he pulled up and punched the left ax back in as high as he could. It was going well. He’d be over in a few more seconds.
    He felt a tug on the rope. Probably nothing, he thought.
    Frank reached the top of the ledge. Getting both axes set tight, he concentrated on lifting his right leg up over the edge. Then he would be all the way over.
    When he thought he had his crampons dug in well, he tried to pull himself up. He put pressure on his foot.
    The ice gave way. His foot lost its grip and swung free. He felt the axes break loose.
    Now he was falling. Frank waited for the safety line to stop him. It went tight, snapping his head. Then, just as suddenly, it slackened.
    He was falling again. Falling thirty feet to the cold pavement below.

6 Daring Aerials
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    Frank could see the rope slithering through the pulley on his harness like a snake. If it all pulled through, he’d be dead. Acting on instinct, Frank dropped the ice ax from his right hand and grabbed the cord.
    He stopped abruptly and slammed into the wall. Spinning slowly, Frank looked down. He guessed he was still twenty, maybe twenty-five feet up.
    â€œFrank!” Jamal shouted. “What happened?”
    â€œThe rope came loose up on top,” Frank said, trying to catch his breath and slow his pounding heart. He checked the harness. The friction of the rope had almost burned through his climbing glove. His hand ached from the effort of holding on.
    â€œI can’t hold on much longer,” he said. “If I lose my grip, I’m going to fall.”
    As he spun, Frank caught glimpses of Jamal’s and Neal’s frightened faces. And there was Agent DuBelle, speaking rapidly into her radio.
    He felt the rope slipping slowly through his fingers. Kicking out desperately, he managed to get one crampon jammed into the ice wall. That stopped the spinning, at least.
    With his left hand, he hacked at the wall with his remaining ice ax. Nothing. It wouldn’t stick. He tried again. It grabbed and held.
    At that instant, the rope slipped away. Frank found himself on the wall with no safety rope and only one ice ax.
    â€œHardy! You still on the wall?” It was Salazar calling down from the top.
    â€œHe’s stuck,” Jamal shouted. “What happened up there?”
    â€œNo clue,” Salazar said. “Frank, you going back down?”
    Frank had two fingers of his free hand wedged into a tiny crack. He took a deep breath. “I’m coming up,” he said. He noticed a crowd gathering below him.
    â€œYour call, Frank,” Salazar replied.
    This time Frank went around the ledge. He set the pick of the ax in his left hand tight in the ice. Then he used the fingers on his handlike pitons,jamming them into any fissure he could find, and pulled himself up.
    His arms shook with the effort, and sweat poured down his face. He climbed slowly, searching blindly with his feet for any foothold.
    â€œA few more feet,” Salazar called. “I’m sending down a new rope.”
    Frank found a nice seam and followed it up. When he saw Salazar’s rope in front of him, he ignored it. He’d rather complete the climb without help, he decided.
    He reached the top, and Salazar grabbed him under one arm and pulled him to his feet.
    The crowd below clapped.
    â€œGutsy climb,” Jamal shouted up at him.
    â€œWhat happened up here?” Frank asked.
    Rick patted him on the back. “Dude, it was bad luck. Those ropes just gave out. They were fine when I went up.”
    â€œYeah. Bad luck is right,” Frank said.
    Salazar smiled. “You need a parachute for this sport, man. A lot safer that