The Borderline Case by Franklin W. Dixon

Author:Franklin W. Dixon [Dixon, Franklin W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780671646882
Google: qMAgNGWbp6AC
Amazon: 0671004816
Publisher: Bt Bound
Published: 1989-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

THE CELLAR WAS dim, musty, and bare. The men who had kidnapped Frank and the others obviously had faith that they couldn't escape because they removed Peter Stamos's gag and ropes and left his friends unbound. The prisoners were alone now.

As soon as the door had closed, Frank began a quick but thorough search of their dark cell. There was a single, small window, set high into a wall, and protected by a thick steel grill. As a source of light, it was too dirty to be of much use; as a possible escape route it was entirely hopeless.

Moreover, there was nothing — no carelessly dropped tool or removable length of pipe — nothing that could conceivably serve as a weapon.

Alma huddled, weeping, in a corner, with Aleko hovering over, trying to comfort her.

"What — what will they do to us?" she asked in a shaky, whispery voice.

Aleko knelt before her and put his hands on her shoulders."

"I will not let them hurt you," he said. "They will have to kill me first."

At this, Alma's tears built into sobs that shook her whole body. Chet approached the terrified girl. He bent down and spoke in a calm, casual voice.

"They're not going to do anything to us, Alma. All they want is to keep us out of the way for a while."

She looked up at Chet, wanting to believe him. "Do you think that we are safe?" she asked.

Somehow Chet managed a comforting smile. "Sure, they'll probably hold us until tomorrow and then let us go. Why don't you try to get a little rest?"

She smiled quickly and leaned her head back against the wall, closing her eyes.

For the first time Aleko looked at Chet without hostility. He muttered in gratitude, then began pacing, smacking one massive fist into his other hand with a loud crack.

Moving away from Alma so as not to disturb her, Aleko whispered fiercely, "Frank, I do not know how he could do this."

"Who? Kaliotis?" questioned Frank.

"When we were little, we called him Uncle Nicholas. How could he turn on those who gave him love, gave him life? When his parents were killed and his brother taken, he was a small child who would have died if the Stamos family had not taken him in."

He stared at Frank, his burst of anger spent. "I cannot understand it. It is — it is the worst of crimes."

Just then the door at the head of the stairs was flung open, and some men clomped down the steps. Two carried automatic pistols, the third had an Uzi. Fanning out, they trained their guns on the five students.

Then a fourth figure clomped noisily down the wooden steps as everyone watched silently. He surveyed the group with an ugly smirk. And Frank realized that his thin, ferret face was a familiar one — he'd been the ringleader in the attack at the restaurant. Chet gasped and whispered, "Frank! That's the guy from the ship, the one who — "

"You will be silent!" snapped the man in a cold, cutting voice.

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