Countdown to Terror Read Online Free Page A

realized Dundee was trying to tell him something. "Easy, easy," he said, dropping down to his knees beside the injured man. "Don't move around."
    Gerry Dundee ignored him, trying to twist around, trying to talk. Half the man's face was bruised and beginning to swell. He winced as he coughed — it sounded more like a death rattle. Frank had horrible visions of broken ribs and vulnerable lungs as Dundee kept mouthing words at him. He had no breath to sustain an actual sound.
    To try to stop him, Frank brought his ear close to Dundee's mouth. Even then he could barely understand what the old cop was gasping out.
    "Listen ... important," Dundee said. "Found out ... where ... are." He glared at Frank, his eyes blazing for a moment as he tried to force the words out before his body betrayed him. "Find them ... Fort ... "
    The effort was too much. Gerry Dundee's eyes rolled up, and the tautness went out of his muscles. He sagged down into the grass.
    Frank and Joe stared at each other. He'd left them a world of trouble, a desperate need to get help—and half a clue.

Chapter 5
    THE HARDYS STOOD surrounded by a sea of blue uniforms in the waiting room of the Camp Hill Hospital. They all wanted word of Gerry Dundee. Instead of a white-coated surgeon, however, a guy in a suit separated himself from the figures in police blue to talk to the boys. He didn't need to present his ID and badge. Everything about him said plainclothes cop.
    "What can we do for you, Detective Otley?" Frank asked, glancing at the man's identification. He and Joe knew only too well what was coming.
    "It's a shame about poor Gerry," Otley told them. "My father worked with him once. He was a legend on the waterfront — nothing went on there that he didn't know about." The police officer shook his head again. "Those days are long past now."
    Otley looked at them with about four thousand questions in his eyes. "Now, about this report you gave the uniformed officers," he went on. "You said you reported being attacked on the road from the airport. I've checked, and we have no record of any such report."
    Frank shrugged. "I was asking Sergeant Dundee about that when we realized there was a bomb in his car."
    The detective gave them a sharp glance. "That's another part of your story I'd like to hear more about. I'm sure you know that Gerry Dundee is semiretired, working only as our insurance liaison. He wasn't even investigating any large cases. So why would anyone plant a bomb in his car?"
    "Maybe he wasn't investigating anything officially," Joe said, "but something must have been up. "Take a look at the car — that damage didn't happen because he'd forgotten to change his oil filter."
    They spent another hour talking with Otley, then the news came from surgery. "Sergeant Dundee is in very critical condition," the doctor said. "We've moved him to the intensive care unit."
    "He's not conscious yet?" Otley asked.
    The doctor shook his head. "At this point, it's touch and go whether he'll ever regain consciousness."
    Otley and the Hardys decided there was nothing they could do and began to leave. Frank looked at the detective. "How about what Dundee said after the explosion?" he asked. "I could hardly make out the words, but it was something about finding someone at a fort."
    Detective Otley bit back a laugh. "Halifax was the main British base in eastern Canada. This area is crawling with forts."
    Frank and Joe were silent as Otley gave them a lift. They'd given him the name of a different hotel — the Cavalier — and all the way there, they looked back for tails.
    After registering, Frank said, "Well, if they're not going to check out the forts, I guess we will."
    The next morning found the boys buying new clothes — they had left their luggage at the first hotel. Frank spent time the night before with a map and guide to Halifax, choosing sites. "We'll work our way back," he said. "Our first stop is Fort Needham Park."
    They found the park easily enough, perched on