Frank’s gaze held some exasperation. "What?" he asked, snappishly.

Kiwi shuffled his feet uncomfortably. "Does your computer have instant messaging?" he inquired. "If it does, I’d like to try contacting Fiona…or one of the others…before it gets any later. If not, I’ll just send an email, but…."

"Of course it has instant messaging!" Frank assured him, his irritation gone.

"Do ducks swim?" Joe laughed at the ridiculous notion of his gadget-loving brother not having such a feature installed on his laptop.

Sweeping past his brother and friend, Frank quickly booted up his laptop, then arose from his seat and indicated that Kiwi should take his place. In a few minutes, Kiwi was tapping on the keys, hoping against hope to find his partners online.

"What time is it in England now?" Joe inquired, as he sorted through the documents he’d jumbled together in his lap.

Kiwi glanced at the clock on the computer and did a quick estimate. "Just after midnight – oops, the only one likely to be up is Mark! Oh well, he can pry everyone out of their pits…that’ll make him popular!" A soft chime sounded from the laptop, and Kiwi gave a yelp of delight. "Yesssssss!" he exulted, and pumped his fist over his head. Going back to the keyboard, he typed frantically, using two clumsy middle fingers, then paused, chuckling.

"I told him I had some good news, so he has gone to wake everyone up – poor sucker!"

The Hardys smiled too, visualizing the frantic scene taking place across the Atlantic: Rob outraged and shouting at his brother, with Helen and Fiona calming him down, and Mark trying to explain his bizarre actions over the yelling. After a short time, the younger Randall brother had evidently returned to the computer, for rapid-fire signal chimes began sounding again.

"They’re gathering round…." Kiwi muttered, he typed something and pressed ‘enter.’ This time he had to wait for quite some time before a reply beeped through. He snorted.

"What did you say?" Joe asked curiously.

"I told them who I’m with – they nearly just about fell off their chairs."

Both Hardys laughed.

Kiwi read the next message. "What?! Cheeky sod!" he cursed. "Mark just said ‘Oh, good – you can solve it, now that the real detectives are on the case.’ He’s DEAD, once I get home." He typed something – probably a return insult, the Hardys figured.

Another pause, followed by further chimes. "Joe, Rob wants to know whether you still pull weights." Kiwi relayed, his eyes not straying from the screen.

"Tell him yeah, I’m still pretty keen on it."

At the next signal, Kiwi read silently, then snickered.

"What did he say?" Joe inquired.

Kiwi went red. "Erm – actually, that wasn’t Rob….It was something Fi said – private."

"Oh – gotcha." Joe asked no further questions, but winked at Frank.

Suddenly, the computer was all beeps.

"Strewth!" Kiwi exclaimed, then. "Helen’s firing questions your way, Frank, but I’m not that fast a typist – hang tight a mo!" He hit a succession of keys, then lifted himself from the chair. "Here, Frank – come and talk to Helen." he said, and stepped aside to let Frank sit down.

The elder Hardy read the questions peppering the screen, then began rapidly typing answers, hitting "send" after each one, so that rapid-fire clicks and chimes filled the room for a few moments. Kiwi shook his head in silent admiration, and Joe grinned – he knew Frank was showing off just a bit, and so, evidently, was Helen. It was a race to see who could cover the biggest expanse of screen with conversation. Eventually, the finish line was reached, for Frank hit a final ‘enter’.

"She wants to talk to you now, Joe."

"You’re kidding – I’m not competing with that! You type for me." Joe laughed.

And so Frank stayed seated, and the other two crowded close to his shoulders to read. The thought of eating temporarily forgotten, pushed to the backs of their minds; Joe’s paperwork shoved, unsorted and unnoticed, to one side.

At last, their friends succumbed to the lateness of the hour in England, and reluctantly signed off, promising to get back in touch the following day. Frank sat back, flexing his shoulders to relieve the tension. He glanced around and was surprised to see Kiwi slumped over, his chin resting on his fists and a glum expresssion on his face.

"What’s wrong?"

"Nothing…" Kiwi mumbled, self-consciously. "I just – miss…Fi…that’s all. I don’t mean to pack-a-sad, sorry, dudes…."

"You can talk to her tomorrow," Joe consoled him. "And it won’t be long until you’re together again, Kiwi." He slapped his friend loudly on the shoulder, and got to his feet. "And now let’s eat! If Frank thought he was starving before…."

"I was starving before, and it’s worse now," his brother remarked, also rising. "Come on, Kiwi – I know of a Chinese buffet place where you can eat yourself sick, if you so desire…let’s see if you can out-eat Joe!"

*****

The next morning, Frank set off once more for the MP base, promising to ask Captain Lee about visitors’ passes at the first opportunity. And once again, Joe and Kiwi lingered over their breakfasts, chatting with some of the other guests at the B & B, and with Mrs. Bennett, their hostess. Finally, the two rose from their seats and went upstairs to their room.

Kiwi made a beeline for the laptop Frank had left on Joe’s bed earlier. "I want to try talking to Fi – that is, to the guys…." he said, and speedily began setting it up. Joe grinned at his friend’s haste.

"Go right ahead," he said, sitting down in the armchair and picking up his cell phone. "I’m going to call a guy who’s supposed to be getting assignments for me, in my classes. If we have to wait around all day for those passes, I guess I may as well accomplish something!….Hey, Deacon? Joe Hardy here…."

*****

At work, Frank carefully returned the borrowed folder to its rightful home in the file cabinet drawer, then settled down to concentrate on his assigned tasks. It seemed strange not to have to search through files for information on their suspect…but everything that could be found out, had been, Frank mused. Now they just had to find the physical evidence to nail James Albright to the wall!

Just before lunch, the opportunity arose for him to ask Captain Lee about obtaining visitors’ passes for "Josh" and "Dave." Frank had tried to think of a good explanation for these two wanting to visit the military establishment, and had come up with the excuse that they were also interested in work experience, like he was. He still felt his story was more than a bit thin, but luckily, Captain Lee didn’t seem to have any problems with his request.

"Certainly, Andy." The genial officer reached into his desk and removed two cardboard rectangles with VISITOR printed in bold, black letters, and numbers in a smaller size. He noted the numbers in a small book, added the date and the names Josh Douglas and Dave Randall to the list of visitors, then handed the passes over to Frank. "These are only good for today." he informed him. "I’ll have the names added to the gate guard’s list."

"Thanks, Captain!" Frank exclaimed, gratefully pocketing the little squares of cardboard. "I’ll call J-Josh…and make sure they get here late this afternoon, so that they don’t interrupt things too much."

"That’s fine, son." Lee smiled broadly. "I’m only glad that you want to show us off, after that run-in with Corporal Walker you had, the first two days!" The captain looked somewhat upset. Frank suspected that guilt may have had something to do with the easy time he’d had getting those passes.

"Well, I’m going to lunch." Captain Lee announced, then. "I’ll see you around 1:00." He turned on his heel, and exited the room, his figure still commanding and ramrod-straight.

Frank reached for the cell phone snuggled in his pants pocket, and began to dial. When he had completed the call to Joe, he looked up Albright’s file in the computer once again, and confirmed the locker number. He needed to find that locker, later. He’d check it out, during his lunch break.

*****

"Dude…" Kiwi reluctantly switched off the computer and swiveled to face Joe, who was curled up in the armchair, apparently engrossed in a book. "…Joe," he said, more emphatically, as Joe didn’t respond. "I think I have a problem…."

At last, Joe raised his eyes from his reading. "Hmmm?" he inquired. "What sort of problem?"

"We’re supposed to go tiki-tour the base today, right?" Kiwi asked, and when Joe nodded affirmatively, continued plaintively: "I can’t go do something like that wearing this stuff – talk about bad impression!" With a sweep of his hand, Kiwi indicated his threadbare jeans and wrinkled shirt. "And everything I’ve got with me looks just about this bad!" he added.

Joe surveyed him thoughtfully a moment. "You do look sort of down-at-heel," he commented. "And although that coat would cover up a lot of it," he nodded at the door, where Kiwi’s long, black coat hung on a hook. "you might get some odd reactions, going in there dressed in that."

"I like that coat!" Kiwi protested.

"Maybe so, but I think you need something else to wear underneath it." Joe put his book down on the bed. "Actually, I probably should dress up a little bit too." he admitted. "Let’s head over to the house, and I’ll grab some fancier duds. Maybe there’ll be something of Frank’s that’ll fit you. If not, we’ll make a quick trip to the South Bayport Mall, and pick you up something." Joe swung his feet to the floor and stood up. "After all," he grinned. "We want to make a good impression, just in case we decide to join up!"

"Hey! Signing on with the American army doesn’t sound like my idea of fun!" Kiwi protested, and pulled his coat from the hook.

Joe shuddered dramatically. "Nor mine, actually!"

When they arrived at the Hardy home, Joe and Kiwi found it empty; Laura had evidently gone out. They headed upstairs, and Joe rummaged through his closet for slightly more "dressy" clothes than the blue jeans and sweatshirt he’d been wearing. Kiwi ruffled through the shirts, somewhat morosely.

"There’s no way these’ll fit me, the sleeves are too short. And neither of you guys have the right length trousers…."

"Let’s check Frank’s stuff; he takes a longer sleeve length than I do. But you’re right; pants are gonna have to be picked up at the mall."

But they came up empty-handed in Frank’s belongings too. Admitting defeat, Joe changed into tan slacks and a blue, button-down shirt that brought out the color of his eyes, then led the way downstairs again, and out to his car. They drove to the shopping center Joe had in mind, and parked near one of the entrances.

"We can grab lunch here too," Joe noted, glancing at his watch. "But first, let’s find you some new clothes."

Perhaps 45 minutes later, the two young men collapsed, exhausted but triumphant, into seats in a small restaurant located in the mall. Kiwi was now dressed in dark khaki pants, and a long-sleeved, button-front burgundy shirt. He had rebelled at Joe’s teasing suggestion of a tie, but leather loafers completed his "new" look.

"How do people do that? – it’s such hard yakka!" he asked Joe plaintively. "I’m shattered, and we didn’t even take an hour!"

Joe shrugged and grinned. "I don’t know." he admitted. "But now we’re done, and I want lunch." He picked up the menus a waitress had passed across, and handed one to Kiwi. "Just don’t order anything you might spill on that new shirt!"

While they waited for their orders to be brought, Joe let his eyes range about the restaurant. To his surprise, he spotted a familiar face in a booth across the room – Con Riley! And to his even greater shock, Con wasn’t alone…a lovely, ash-blonde woman was seated next to him – Andrea Bender! Oh, my good gosh! Joe blinked, stunned speechless. He really is seeing Andrea – seriously!

As the younger Hardy watched, horrified yet fascinated, he saw Con point at something on Andrea’s plate, evidently making some comment regarding her lunch. She laughed, put something on her fork, and held it invitingly toward the police lieutenant, who leaned forward and accepted the bite.

"Joe? You okay?" Kiwi’s voice penetrated Joe’s consciousness. "You look sort of crook – sick…."

Joe forced his eyes away from Con and Andrea. "I do?" he said. "I – uh – yeah, I feel a little green, actually…." He stared down at the table, as the waitress placed his burger basket in front of him, and felt his stomach lurch slightly. "Maybe I’m not as hungry as I thought…."

"You look like you’re about to chunder! What were you looking at, anyway?" Kiwi peered curiously in the direction Joe had been staring. "Isn’t that Lieutenant Riley?" he asked in surprise. "And who’s the cute babe he’s with?"

"Vanessa’s mother." Joe responded gloomily.

"Oh…erm…ooops!" Kiwi’s face contorted slightly…he’d realized why his friend looked unwell and was slightly embarrassed at his description of Joe’s girlfriend’s mother. He diplomatically refrained from further comment.

Joe took a deep breath, and picked up his hamburger resolutely. Get used to it, Hardy! If Con wants to date Andrea, and she him, it’s none of your business…. "Come on, let’s eat."

*****

When he reached the locker rooms in the basement, Frank found something he hadn’t noticed before: there were actually two rooms filled with the storage compartments. His own was in one section; Albright’s in the other. He’d come from the other direction previously, along a corridor on the other side of the room. He now saw there were two heavy fire doors separating the two areas.

This will make it even easier for keeping a lookout! The elder Hardy exulted silently. If anyone comes along, I can just say ‘Josh’ is getting something out of my locker! Kiwi can stand watch outside the other door.

Frank walked slowly through the second room, the one where Albright’s locker was located, checking out the locker numbers as he went. Eventually, he halted, just over halfway down the room. That’s the one! Wish I could just go ahead and check it out, right now! The lure was so strong, Frank actually did step up to examine the lock, but ultimately resisted the temptation to go the whole mile and open it – it was simply too risky! He forced himself to walk away.

In the dimly-lit doorway, unnoticed by Frank, a tall, shadowy figure had paused, and stood silent…watching as Frank inspected the locker and then departed. Soundlessly, the figure calmly turned too…and left.