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Finally, the hinges began to give. With a grinding noise, the door cracked, then sagged.
The team hurled the ram forward, sending the door crashing in. Unslinging their guns,
they covered the front hall of the house. "Nothing moving, sir," the sergeant in charge
called as Perkins and his team ran up the stairs.
"No response to our fire, either," Perkins said, peering inside. "Let's go in."
Pistols and machine guns poised, they entered the hallway.
The covering fire stopped, as everyone waited tensely to hear what was in store for the
raiding team. The minutes straggled by, but the street remained silent.
"Getting right spooky, it is," one of the covering gunners muttered.
From inside the house came the sounds of doors being kicked in. Occasionally, one of
the raiders would appear at a window, waving an "all
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clear." Once, a couple of shots rang out, but the sergeant shouted, "False alarm."
Finally, Perkins appeared in the wrecked doorway, his pistol holstered and a frustrated
frown on his face. "No one's there!" he said.
The Gray Man headed up the stairs. "Could they be on the roof?" he called.
"Not unless they flew," Perkins replied as Prank and Joe joined them. "There was
enough dust on the top floors to grow crops." He stared at the Hardys for a moment.
"And what are these two doing here?"
The Gray Man smiled without mirth. "Well, they've arrived just in time for the search."
Since the all clear had been given, the house filled with searchers, from the top to the
ground floors. Using plans picked up from the Hall of Records, they even checked for
secret passages in the walls.
"This is ridiculous," Perkins groused as they headed down into the cellar of the
building. "They can't have disappeared. Our people have seen Assassins going in.
They've spotted leaders here. And we've had the building surrounded."
"No windows or anything overlooked?" the Gray Man asked.
"We worked from those plans," Perkins replied testily. "There's no way in or out that
wasn't guarded."
"I guess that means they're down here, then." The Gray Man shone his flashlight
around the
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cellar. At one time partitions had been up, but the makeshift walls had all come down. In
one corner, they saw the remains of the coal cellar. In another, some crates apparently
had been disassembled. Perkins looked at the piles of wood.
"Some of these have armory markings," he said, his voice going hard. "Stolen
weapons, probably."
"Looks like they were storing lots of things here," Frank said.
"The question is, how?" said Joe. "And where?"
"Well, the answer may be over here." The Gray Man had been shining his flashlight
along the floor. He stopped it in another corner of the cellar. Set in the concrete floor was
a heavy wooden trapdoor.
"It certainly does explain everything," the Gray Man said. "My nose told me about it
since we were on the stairs. Didn't you catch the earthy smell down here? Turned earth,
as if someone had been digging. I'll bet that little addition won't appear on any of your
official plans," he said to Perkins.
Perkins stared. "You're saying that they dug an escape tunnel?"
The Gray Man nodded. "A lot of work, but it paid off for them, didn't it?" He knelt by
the trapdoor. "This could lead just next door, or to another building entirely. Or they
could have cut into the sewer system."
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"Wherever it leads, I'm sure it's far from here," Perkins said gloomily.
"There's only one way to find out." The Gray Man reached down and grabbed the ring-
pull on the trapdoor.
Something clicked in Frank Hardy's mind, something about the way the Assassins
worked. Unconsciously, he'd been expecting it ever since they'd come into the building.
But there'd been nothing
"Wait a second!" he yelled, running forward. "These guys love bombs! It could be
booby-"
The Gray Man had already heaved the door up. He and Frank disappeared in the flash
of an explosion!
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Chapter 10
THE BLAST OF the demolition charges threw Joe Hardy and Perkins to the floor. Immediately,
they scrambled to their feet and ran to the two still figures lying by the wrecked trapdoor.
"Frank, Joe managed to choke out, "Not Frank, too."
But as he reached his brother, Frank began to stir, pushing himself up on one arm. "The
door shielded me from the worst of the blast. But him-" he mumbled, looking toward
the Gray Man. "Was I able to push him far enough away?"
Perkins knelt by the fallen agent, looking very different from the aristocratic pilot
Frank and Joe had met at the airfield. His face was covered with dirt, and the beginnings
of a bruise showed on his cheek. His expression was serious as he checked for a pulse.
"He's still breathing," he said. "Which he wouldn't be if you hadn't pushed him
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away. But. . ." He shook his head. "He's very bad."
"Mr. Perkins'" Sergeant Morris and a private came down the stairs. "Are you all right?
The whole house feels like it's going to go!"
From the ceiling overhead came ominous creaking and groaning sounds. The
foundation of the century-old house had been severely shaken.
"We've got to get out'" Joe's voice cut over the noises. "Give us a hand here'"
He helped Frank to his feet as the two soldiers helped Perkins gently pick up the Gray
Man. "Up the stairs-hurry'" Perkins shouted.
The creaking in the ceiling became a horrible grinding noise. "Some of the beams must
have cracked," Frank muttered as they stumbled up the stairs. Just as they reached the
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