The boys, who had fallen asleep on makeshift bunks near their friend, jumped up excitedly and Frank ran for his father. Then everyone crowded around Biff.
“How about starting at the beginning,” Mr. Hardy suggested.
Frank put in, “Gummi told us you got a message to meet us somewhere.”
“Right,” Biff began. “We received a telegram from Akureyri, saying you needed help and instructing us to take a private plane from Reykjavik which would be waiting for us.”
“We thought you'd gone by boat!” Joe interrupted. “Chet mentioned something to Gummi about seasick pills!”
“Well, Chet had eaten a lot for lunch that day and his stomach was upset, so he bought some for the plane trip.”
Joe grinned ruefully. “That's what you call a
mis
-clue!”
“On the plane,” Biff continued, “we were socked and tied up. It landed on a small strip near the cave. Obviously they wanted us out of the way, so Frank and Joe'd be easier to handle.”
“Then what happened?” Gummi inquired.
“We were supposed to be shipped to Greenland in three big boxes, together with Major McGeorge. In case they had difficulties, there was an alternate solution which they called Plan B.”
Frank and Joe exchanged excited glances.
“What was that?” Frank asked.
“McGeorge was to fly out together with Chet,” Biff went on. “The astronaut and I are about the same size, and even look somewhat alike. He would travel under my name.”
“Is that what finally happened?” Joe asked, his nerves on edge.
“I guess so. They took McGeorge and Chet away, and planted a bomb to blow up the cave. Musselman wanted to do it right away, but the guy he called Diran has a sadistic streak in him. He was going to give me a little more time!”
Frank clenched his fists when he heard of the devilish scheme of their enemies. “That animal!”
“Well,” Biff concluded, “it didn't really make much difference to me. They hadn't given me any food or water, so I was in no shape to worry about anything.”
“How were McGeorge and Chet to fly to Greenland?” Mr. Hardy wanted to know.
“I have no idea. I told you everything.”
Everyone went back to sleep again until Captain Magnusson called them for breakfast. They had hardly finished eating when the
Thor
pulled into Reykjavik Harbor. The Hardys thanked the captain and his crew, then hopped into a taxi and sped directly to the airport. Gummi took Biff to the hotel.
At the airfield the Americans hastened to passport control. Mr. Hardy talked to an official who confirmed that Chet Morton and Biff Hooper had already passed through the gate.
“But that wasn't Biff Hooper at all!” Joe blurted out.
“Who was it, then? A criminal?” the man asked, perplexed.
“Anything but,” Mr. Hardy said. He quickly told about the spies' plan.
“We'll have to stop the plane!” the official declared. “I hope they have not taken off yet. I think the flight to Scotland is scheduled to leave at eight-thirty.”
“Scotland?” Frank cried out. “Weren't they going to Greenland?”
“No,” the man replied. He led the Hardys into his office. There he quickly relayed a message to the tower.
“Prevent plane to Scotland from taking off! Abort take-off. Urgent!”
Instantly the request was relayed to the plane. No reply!
The Hardys and the airport official ran out to the field. The jet stood at the end of a runway, ready to speed down the white line.
“Dad, we have to stop it!” Frank yelled. Just then an airport jeep drove past. Frank flagged it down. He looked at the official, who nodded and barked an order in Icelandic to the driver. The man jumped out. Frank and Joe instantly hopped in and raced down the runway.
As Frank sped toward the plane, the big aircraft moved forward, its engines thundering. Car and plane were on a collision course!
CHAPTER XX
Cool Hand Chet
FRANK realized that a crash was imminent. He swerved to the left just as the craft became airborne. It whizzed overhead, its hot jet blasts barely missing the speeding car.
The plane virtually stood on its tail, reaching for altitude as fast as possible.
Frank drove the jeep back toward the airport buildings. The official waved them in the direction of the tower. When the boys reached the airport's nerve center, they found Mr. Hardy listening to the radio report from the Scotland-bound plane.
“If anyone follows us,” the voice said, “we will shoot the pilot!”
“Good night!” Frank said. “They mean business.”
“But they will not get away with it!” the tower dispatcher stated angrily.
Mr. Hardy followed the plane with binoculars until it was out of sight, then watched on radar as the blip continued in an easterly direction.
“Maybe they're going to Scotland after all!” Joe said.
“Not likely,” his father replied. “The plane's veering north.” After a 180-degree turn the craft headed west.
By this time, government officials had arrived in the tower, and a plan was evolved within a few minutes. Both the United States authorities in Keflavik and the Danish Air Force in Greenland were notified. Within minutes, a dozen planes were launched from both bases.
Frank spoke up. “We'd like to be in on the chase.”
“There's not much you can do now,” an American officer replied. He stood next to Frank and introduced himself as Colonel S. P. Smith of the U.S. Air Force. “But we'll need you in Narssarssuaq.”
“Is that the place where they are going to land?” Joe asked.
“I'm sure they don't plan to land there, but we'll try to force them down. We have them covered with an umbrella of planes.”
The colonel led the Hardys out of the tower and onto the field, where they boarded a speedy military jet.
“We should be in Greenland in about half an hour,” he explained.
No sooner had the Hardys fastened their seat belts than they were thrust backward by the terrific take-off speed of the jet. It whistled into the air, banked sharply, and headed west. Now relaxed in their seats, the trio chatted with Colonel Smith.
“So far everything is going like clockwork,” he said. “That plane is a fish in our net.”
“But what if the hijackers should get desperate and wreck the plane?” Joe asked.
“We'll just have to play it by ear,” the colonel replied.
Now a voice crackled over the plane's P.A. system. “They are closing in,” their American pilot said.
He had hardly spoken when the pilot in the hijacked plane snarled, “Stay away from us! If you try to force us down, we will crash the plane!”
Presently another of the pursuing pilots reported that the airliner suddenly had gone into a steep dive.
Colonel Smith barked a brisk order. “Ease off, but keep them in sight!”
“They must be madmen!” Mr. Hardy said gravely. “The lives of all those people are in jeopardy.”
As the colonel pondered over what action to take, another voice came suddenly from the passenger plane.
“This is Major McGeorge. Do you read me?”
Colonel Smith and Mr. Hardy exchanged suspicious glances, before the colonel took the microphone.
“Your tricks won't accomplish anything!”
“It's no trick. This is really McGeorge. Chet Morton and I have everything under control. We will see you at Narssarssuaq! Over and out!”
Excitement ran high in the Hardys' plane. Soon the mountains of Greenland came into view and shortly afterward their pilot circled over the airfield at Narssarssuaq. It touched down and taxied to one side of the field.
Before the pilot could turn off the engines, Frank and Joe saw the hijacked airliner. It flew around the field once, then came in for a landing.
Two military planes followed directly behind and escorted the jetliner to the loading area. The portable stairway was quickly rolled to the rear door, and excited passengers streamed down the steps.
After all had debarked, the three Hardys and Colonel Smith dashed up the stairs and into the plane.
Along the aisle stumbled two men, their hands tied behind their backs. One had a bruised swelling on his forehead. The other, with a puffed right eye, glared out the window.
Behind them strode Chet Morton. “Come on there, out! Both of you!” he ordered. But when he saw the Hardys, he asked anxiously, “Hey, fellows, did you find Biff?”
“Yes. He's fine,” Frank called out.
The prisoners were hustled out of the plane and taken into custody by military police. Then the crew and Major McGeorge stepped off the jetliner.
Introductions were made, hands clasped, and backs slapped. Then Colonel Smith led the Hardys, Chet, and the astronaut into an airport office. Here the incredible story of Major McGeorge's kidnapping was pieced together.
“I'm sure glad the government put such able detectives on my tracks,” the tall, handsome astronaut said, and thanked Mr. Hardy and the boys for saving his life.
“Well, the last step you did yourself,” Frank said with a grin. “How'd you manage to take over the plane?”
“I was recovering from the drug they had given me,” the major explained, “and signaled Chet that I was all right.”
“Then I did it,” Chet put in, blushing. “One of those jerks who boarded the plane with us was up front and kept a gun on the pilot. I gave the other one an elbow in the ribs and finished him off with a karate chop to the forehead. Pow! Like this!” Chet made a fast motion with his right hand, and the Hardys chuckled.
“Your hobby really paid off!” Frank patted his friend on the back.
“After that,” McGeorge went on, “we used the fellow as a screen and marched him up to the cabin. The other guy was completely taken by surprise.”
“And Major McGeorge took care of him real fast,” Chet concluded.
“Well, thank goodness it's all over,” Mr. Hardy said. “Now tell us, Major, how did they ever get hold of you in the first place?”
“I was seized at gunpoint by three men after I had separated from our group at the sulfur pit to inspect the area. They put me into a helicopter and flew me to a cave.”
“That's not there any more,” Joe told him. “They blew it up.”
“I know. A time bomb was set when they took Chet and me out. Good thing you found Biff Hooper before it went off!” The major went on to say that he was interrogated for hours, but would not reveal any NASA secrets.
“Then they took me back to the sulfur pit and threatened to throw me in,” he reported.
“That's where we picked up your trail,” Frank spoke up.
“Well, those devils circled around the pit, and when I still would not talk, they drove me away again.”
The Hardys learned that in the early confusion following the disappearance of the major, the helicopter had made a clean getaway.
“A chopper was found abandoned on the east coast,” Mr. Hardy put in. “I'm sure it was the same craft.”
Frank snapped his fingers. “East coast! I bet that's where we were headed when Musselman kidnapped us in his plane.”
“Could be,” Mr. Hardy replied. “They had a speedboat hidden in a cove. I think they planned to take you out and dump you in the Atlantic.”
By midafternoon Major McGeorge, the Hardys, and Chet Morton had returned to Reykjavik. At the Foreign Office they learned that Musselman and Ionescu still were tight-lipped. One of their men, however, was telling all he knew about the spies to save himself from a life behind bars.
It was revealed that the thugs were spies for hire. A foreign power had set up the diabolic plan to kidnap an American astronaut, then take him to their country, claiming that he had defected.
“Iceland proved to be an effective place to carry out the kidnapping,” Anders Sigurdsson told them. “Our country is entirely law-abiding and nobody would ever suspect such a thing could happen here.”
“But how could such elaborate preparations have been made so far in advance?” Frank asked, recalling the sod hut with all its sophisticated equipment.
“The agents have been here for a long time,” Mr. Sigurdsson explained. “They were spying on your military base and knew far ahead of time that the astronauts were scheduled to visit Iceland.”
Biff flooper, meanwhile, had recovered enough to have supper with his pals and Mr. Hardy in the Saga's beautiful rooftop restaurant. They looked down over the harbor, now blinking with light, and while dining on a delicious dish of hot smoked lamb, talked with their guest Major McGeorge.
In the middle of the meal, Captain Sigtryggsson of the coast guard entered with his niece Steina. They were escorted to the Hardys' table, where introductions were made.
After complimenting the astronaut and Chet on their escape, Captain Sigtryggsson said, “I'm so pleased to meet you, Mr. Hardy. Your sons and their friends have been of great service to Iceland.”
As the waiter pulled up a chair for the two newcomers, the door opened again and in strode Rex Mar. He was neatly dressed in a dark suit and joined the Hardys' table.
The detective shook the old man's hand vigorously and thanked him for all he had done for the American boys.
“They have done something for me, too,” Mar replied with a smile. “They made me rich!”
“What are you going to do now, Mr. Mar?” Joe asked. “Buy yourself a fishing trawler?”
“Sure,” Frank added. “You can go into businessâ”
“With me, for instance,” came a voice from the door. Everyone cheered as Gummi walked toward the table.