April gazed up at him with tear-filled eyes when he knelt beside her. "Joe…I feel awful," she whispered. "So cold…and sick….Everything hurts."

"Take it easy, you’ll be all right." Joe spread the second blanket over her, then sat down and carefully gathered her bundled form against him. It was difficult to do without hurting either her ribs or her fractured arm, but he managed to slide her into his lap, unzipped his jacket, and cuddled her close, hoping to add the warmth of his body to that of the blankets. "You’ll be warmer in just a minute."

"Joe – I’m not going to make it…am I?" she whispered, letting her eyes slide closed. "I’m going to die…." She shivered in his arms.

"No, you’re not going to die; don’t say things like that!"

"Listen – please, listen to me…" April’s light voice wavered. "I want you to promise me something.…Will you – and Frank – please look out for Jack?"

"April, you aren’t going to die, you’re just feeling bad because of—" Joe paused. "What about Jack?"

"I think he’s – in trouble….He’s been acting so strange lately." Her voice was strengthening now, and Joe felt her convulsive shivers easing off as she grew warmer. "He’s been having these – meetings, out of the office….And he’s really distant and angry with me, all the time." She was starting to cry again, quietly; tears streaming down her face. Joe rocked her a little, soothingly.

"Today – we both had flights scheduled. My plane wasn’t finished loading…Jack’s was ready to go. He got tied up, talking to a potential customer on the phone…."

Joe wanted to tell her to stop talking and rest, but his curiosity was too strong. I’ve got to know what’s going on with Jack…. He made a long stretch and grasped his water bottle; offered April a sip, then resumed his gentle rocking, listening silently to her tear-choked recital.

"I didn’t want to wait for my plane to finish being loaded…so I decided to switch flights with him, to save time. We’ve done it before; no big deal….Only this time – this time, when I was in the air, Jack radioed me. He reamed me out for taking his flight – screamed and yelled something awful." April paused, and Joe felt her head sag against his shoulder.

"Then what happened?" he encouraged her quietly.

"He told me to come back…ordered me, like I was a little kid, or his slave, or something." Even though weak and pain-filled, April’s voice conveyed her indignation, and Joe’s mouth twitched into a smile as he listened. "He made me so mad – so I turned off the radio…and then went on with the flight." Suddenly she began to cry again, harder now. "When the engine blew out, I tried to call in – but the radio wouldn’t work…it wouldn’t work…! And I knew I was going to die…the trees tore the wing off the plane….I tried to get to the little lake…." Sobs choked off the words.

"Shhhh, it’s okay; you aren’t going to die." Joe soothed her. "You’re going to be fine; things’ll be all right with Jack; don’t worry…." He felt her shake her head against his shoulder. "I promise, April, Frank and I will make sure Jack’s okay." Jack, you’d better be worth your little sister’s worry and grief, that’s all I can say!

April’s sobs subsided, and eventually she relaxed into a light doze. Joe let her rest for a few minutes, then jiggled her gently.

"April, time to wake up; don’t go all the way asleep, okay?" Come on Frank; get me some help here! April opened her eyes and gazed at him sleepily, then looked around, apparently surprised to find herself wrapped in Joe’s jacket and cradled in his lap.

"What – why—?"

Joe summoned his cheeriest smile. "You had a little bout with shock; I’m just trying to keep you warm. No ulterior motives, I swear."

"I might not mind an ulterior motive," she murmured absently – and then blushed crimson, realizing what she had said.

Joe chuckled. "I think you must be feeling a little better." he said. "Talk to me some more, April; you need to stay awake. Tell me more about the air cargo business. What do you and Jack transport?"

"Just about anything…packages, supplies, food…passengers. Anything to make a buck. Jack’s been strapped, financially, ever since he started the business…." She trailed off, thoughtfully. "But he’s had more money, just lately. I’m not sure where it came from." She turned to face Joe, with a sudden movement that made her wince and gasp momentarily. "I’m afraid to know where it’s coming from, Joe."

Before Joe could frame a reply, a sound in the distance caught his attention. "Listen—" He cocked his head, concentrating on identification. "I think I hear – sounds like – sounds like a helicopter, April!" He hugged her gently, laughing with relief. "I think the cavalry is on the way!"

A few minutes later, a sleek red-and-white helicopter settled down in the clearing. Rotors switched off, the blades ceased their whirling, and three figures leaped out: two paramedics, carrying their gear, and Frank Hardy. He darted ahead of the EMT’s, rushing to his brother’s side.

"Is everything okay? How’s April, Joe?"

"She’s fine," Joe assured him. "She got a little cold, but everything’s okay now." He cautiously unwrapped his jacket from around April’s blanketed form, and eased her onto the ground again so the medics could begin their examination. He stood up and the two boys walked a short distance away.

Efficiently, the two paramedics released April from her cocoon of blankets. They checked her bandaged leg – Joe noticed with relief that no bloodstains showed – and examined her splinted arm; took her blood pressure and flashed a penlight in her eyes. In a few minutes, an IV was started, and a cervical collar had been placed around April’s neck. When they attempted to immobilize her, in case of spinal injury, however, they encountered resistance.

"Not a chance! No way! My ribs hurt enough already; you’re not trussing me up like a turkey! There’s nothing wrong with my spine; I’ll get up and show you – " April endeavored to pull herself upright, but both the paramedics and the Hardys converged upon her, forcing her to stay put.

"Okay, okay, we’ll let it go." The EMT sighed. "Let’s get her on the stretcher, and get to the hospital."

When she was secured on the stretcher, ready to be placed in the chopper, April held up her hand, signaling wait, and beckoned the Hardys to her side.

"Thank you both – so much. I can never thank you enough." she whispered, pulling Joe down to where he could hear her. "and…Joe…about Jack…?"

He nodded reassuringly. "Don’t worry about it. You just take it easy. We’ll be at the hospital later, to see how you’re doing." He squeezed her hand; Frank patted her shoulder, and the medics bore her away to the waiting helicopter. A minute or two later, the boys stood watching the aircraft recede into the distance, its distinctive whickety-whickety sound reaching their ears after it was out of sight.

Joe turned away to retrieve his backpack from its place against the rock. "Guess we should put the blankets back in the plane," he muttered. How do I get started telling Frank about this? He’s gonna blow a gasket when he sees that cocaine!

Frank slid his arms into his own discarded backpack. "Yeah – and then get back to our own camp, and get packed up." He straightened, adjusting the pack, and saw Joe’s face. "Hey, are you all right? You look almost as pale as April did!"

"I want to show you something." Joe evaded a direct reply. He jerked his head toward the downed plane. "In there." He scooped the blankets into his arms and led the way into the interior. Frank followed him, frowning slightly. Joe folded the blankets meticulously, gathering his composure, then finally knelt and tugged open the compartment. "It’s in here."

Frank leaned over and looked. "It’s another blanket," he said patiently. "Joe, is this some kind of a joke?"

"No, damn it!" Joe snatched the concealing fabric up and gestured toward the compartment. "Look, Frank!"

For a long moment there was silence in the little plane, as Frank stared at the white packages. Finally he spoke: "Houston, I think we have a problem…."

"You’re telling me!" Joe dropped the blanket again and leaned against the wall. "Frank, after I found this, April said Jack’s been acting funny – "

"You asked April about it?" Frank cut in sharply.

"No, no…she was kinda out of it right then; slipping into shock. She thought she was going to die, and she asked us to look out for Jack, because she thought he was in trouble. Said he’d been secretive and real touchy – and all of a sudden he had money." Joe paused for breath. "She said Jack was supposed to take this flight today; but she’d switched with him because her plane wasn’t loaded and this one was. And he was really mad at her for doing it."

Frank chewed his lip. "The right thing to do would be to turn this over to the police right away, you know." he said noncommittally.

"April asked for help, Frank…and it’s Jack." Joe’s response was just as casual-sounding as Frank’s remark, but volumes of information were packed into those few words.

"So let’s get it out of here." Frank reached into the compartment and picked up the packages, one by one. He handed them to Joe, who wrapped them in the blanket he still carried. Together, feeling as if the forest had suddenly grown eyes that were peering at them from every side, the two boys exited the plane and walked into the woods.

A few hundred feet from the crash site, Frank paused near what appeared to be a rockslide. He glanced around consideringly, then nodded. "This should do."

He began moving some of the rocks carefully, excavating a space large enough to conceal the packages. After Joe had set them in place, both boys worked putting rocks back, then Joe dragged a couple of tree limbs – freshly snapped off by the passage of April’s plane – to further cover the hiding place.

"There." Joe stepped back and surveyed their handiwork. "Looks like any other part of the woods."

"Just so long as we can find it again," Frank commented dryly. He looked carefully at their surroundings, attempting to locate an identifying landmark. Joe too gazed about, frowning in concentration.

"There." Joe pointed. "Holly bush. There aren’t too many of those around. We’re about…20 feet from the holly bush, and on the right-hand side of this rockfall."

"Okay, good enough." Frank conceded. "Now, let’s get back to camp before it gets dark. I’ve got a little flashlight, but I’d rather not get caught in the woods with just that."

The boys set off once more, consciously refraining from talking about Joe’s discovery. It was too overwhelming an idea, that Jack Wayne might be involved in smuggling cocaine, for them to casually discuss it while hiking through the woods. Frank, especially, was too stunned; he needed some time to think things through before he tried to talk about the situation.

"Let’s make a final check of the crash site before we leave the area." Joe suggested as they neared the downed plane once more. "There might be something in the plane that April needs or wants…."

Before they reached the clearing, however, they caught the sound of deep rough voices raised in argument. Frank held out his hand to stop his younger brother. Joe frowned. "Could that be the sheriff already?"

Joe’s whisper was barely audible even to Frank, so there was no chance that he had been overheard. Frank shrugged, and breathed a reply: "I don’t see how. It took me over an hour to hike out. When the ‘copter picked me up to come back here, the sheriff was still getting mobilized."

"IT HAS TO BE HERE!" Frank and Joe couldn’t see speakers, in the lengthening shadows of twilight, but their voices were clear.

"You think Wayne double-crossed us?"

"He’d better not have – not if he knows what’s good for him."

Joe shot a quick look toward his brother, and caught a return glance. It was obvious they were thinking the same thing: Are these guys looking for the drugs? How did they get to the crash site so fast? Frank took a step closer, hoping to get a better look at them. If these were the men with whom Jack had gotten involved in shadowy dealings, he and Joe might need to recognize them later.

Unfortunately, the encroaching darkness prevented him from seeing the small limb, newly fallen to the ground from the plane’s passage, directly underfoot. The sudden snap was like a thunderclap in the still of the late afternoon. Immediately the two men whirled in their direction, and then a familiar, unmistakable sound reached their ears: the sound of a gun – no, more than one gun – being cocked.

"All right, freeze! Hold it right there, you two – no sudden moves, or you’ll regret it." a cold voice snapped.

Sparks and Evergreen don't own the Hardy Boys characters, they belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation, We've just borrowed them for an adventure or two. We will put them back when we're done with them. We do claim copyright to the original characters and themes in this story. Please do not borrow them without the expressed permission of the authors.