EXTREME DANGER
by
PiperMerlyn
Chapter 3
The Chapters
Joe
Oh man, this was totally awesome. I’d heard about the Big Air games for weeks now and would have loved to find some way to go. Mom wasn’t so keen on extreme sports and I knew Dad would have let her decide. The stunts are awesome. I turned to Frank and saw the look on his face. “Don’t jinx it before we’re there.”
He shrugged as I punched play.
The picture turned black. A low electronic hum grew louder and louder until it sounded like a chorus of spinning wheels. Suddenly, the wheel sounds screeched to a halt and two red slash marks crisscrossed the screen to form a giant X. Then there was a sizzling noise – like the sound of a burning fuse – and a huge explosion. The giant X burst into a fireball of tiny cartoon flames.
“Killer graphics,” I said.
“Shh,” Frank responded.
The flames burned sporadic holes in the screen, revealing a dozen little scenes – videostream clips of people skateboarding, bungee jumping, rock climbing, motocross racing and more. “Extreme sports,” a deep voice boomed over the soundtrack of heavy metal music. “Pushing the limits of human skill and endurance, extreme sports have taken America by storm. Daredevil skateboard stunts, motocross mega-races, Big Air ramp-jumps, death-defying bungee dives – these are just a few of the amped thrills that have captured an entire nation of thrill-seekers and adrenaline junkies.”
The videostream merged as the black screen simulated burning off completely. We could see a huge half-pipe, its upper sides at least fifty feet high. On the screen, a skinny skateboarder zoomed up the curve, shot into the air at least ten feet, twisted around and moved to land back on the curve. His board shot away from him and he crashed, sliding limply down the curve of the half-pipe. “Oh man, wipeout,” I said, stunned.
Frank groaned. “Ouch.”
“Extreme events are more popular than ever,” the deep-voiced narrator continued as the videostreamed sports footage continued. “Once an underground phenomenon, extreme sports now receive international television coverage. Extreme Olympic-style games and events are popping up all over the world.”
“And we’re gonna get up close and personal,” I said. “Cool.”
Frank gave me a look. “You really would want to do that?”
I rolled my eyes and turned my attention back to the screen as suddenly tourist shots of Philadelphia overlapped the sports footage. “Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Birthplace of the American Constitution,” the voice sounded even more cheerful now. “City of Brotherly Love, home of the Liberty Bell. And proud host of the Big Air Games, the newest and biggest extreme sports competition in the country. If you are interested in this midsummer event, tickets are still available. Hotel rooms are conveniently located, with all-day shuttle service to and from the stadium. Just call our 800 number located at the bottom of the screen. Be sure to ask about our special group rates.”
I looked at Frank. “What is this? A commercial?”
“Sure sounds like it,” he agreed. “All it needs is a catchy jingle.”
Then another voice came from the speakers. It sounded like it was making fun of the narrator. “If you would like to attend the Big Air Games as an undercover agent, however, please press the start button and you will be briefed on your mission.”
“That’s more like it,” I said, grabbing the controls and pressing the button.
“Somebody at the home office must have a sense of humor,” muttered Frank.
The tourist shots disappeared. A detailed map of Philadelphia filled the screen. “Hello, boys,” said the second voice. “Sorry about the introduction. I just thought I’d show you the tourist board’s ad for the Big Air Games. We got you both tickets for all the events and reserved a room at the Four Seasons Hotel in Philadelphia.” A yellow square flashed on the map, indicating the hotel’s location. Then the screen switched to a photo of the hotel.
“Some of the top extreme athletes in the country are coming to the games – and staying at your hotel. Because of the size of the event, we’re taking extra precautions. In dangerous times like these, it’s important to always be prepared for the possibility of trouble. As teenagers, you’ll be able to access more information than police officers could. Blend in, mingle with the fans and the athletes. But always, keep your eyes and ears open.”
I grinned. This was going to be great!
Frank didn’t seem as excited. “It doesn’t sound like much of a mission. Just hang with the fans, the athletes and sit on the sidelines?”
“One of the reasons for the extra precautions is we have reason to believe that several threats have been made to the participants in this competition. Some skateboarders claim they saw a few strange postings on one of the extreme sports Web sites. There are thousands of those sites. The FBI are checking into the threats but it could take months to track them down, if they were actual threats at all. Ask around. Gather all the information you can. I suggest you pack tonight. You need to leave by tomorrow morning early.”
I felt like I was jumping out of my skin. I wanted to leave tonight! I looked over at Frank and he just sighed.
“This mission, like every mission, is top secret,” the voice went on. “In five seconds, this CD will be reformatted into an ordinary music CD. Five...four...three...two...one.” The Beastie Boys blared out from the speakers. I shut it off.
Frank walked through the bathroom and into his room. He headed over to his computer, turned it on and logged in after it booted up.
“You don’t seem psyched,” I said, following him. “What’s up?”
He shook his head and sat down, focusing on the computer screen. “I’m going to search some of those Web sites. I’ll only be a few minutes.”
I shook my head. “You think you can find those threats in a few minutes?”
Frank flashed me a grin that looked more like a smirk. “Hey, you said yourself I’m good. Remember, I learned from the best. Mom’s a librarian and she’s taught me all the tricks.”
I sighed. “Sometimes I wish we could ask her to help. At least it would ease the research load.”
Frank grunted. “Don’t even think it. She’d freak big time, never let us leave the house.”
I sighed again, knowing he was right. While he started searching, I headed downstairs to tell Dad about the new mission. He was sitting in his office, staring at a fax page. He looked up at me and arched an eyebrow. “I’d imagine this one will be right up your alley.”
I grinned. “It’s awesome.”
He sighed. “Joe, I know you think extreme sports are fun, but they’re dangerous...” His voice trailed off. “I want you to be careful.”
I nodded, wondering if he was thinking about our stunt today. “We will, Dad.”
He glanced at the fax again. “I’ll run you two by the garage later.”
“The van’s running fine, Dad,” I said, surprised.
He handed me the fax. I knew Dad knew about our missions, sometimes before we did. At the bottom of the paper, it listed two Kawasaki motorcycles, solid black with flame detailing. I looked at Dad. “Serious?”
He smiled and I tossed the paper back. “Gotta tell Frank!”
I raced back up the stairs. “Yo, Frank!”
Frank pointed at the computer screen, looking serious himself. “Look at this.”
I leaned over his shoulder and studied the screen. In a tall narrow window, there was a long scroll of postings. I started reading. After a few minutes, I said, “So? It just looks like a bunch of dudes talking about the Big Air Games.”
“Look at this one posted by 4567TME,” he said, reading out loud. “I hope you Xtreme sports nuts know how to dial 911.”
I shrugged. “4567TME has a point. Extreme sports are dangerous. Most of those athletes wind up in the hospital sooner or later.”
“Maybe,” Frank admitted. “But it could be a threat. Maybe 4567TME plans to put those athletes in the hospital. And sooner, not later.”
I rolled my eyes. “And that’s why we’re headed there.”
Frank got up and turned off his computer. He moved to sit down on his bed. “But the title of that CD was Extreme Danger. We’ll have to be careful.”
I nodded. “And we will. Come on, we survived Maletta’s little nasty stunt. We’ll be fine.” I bounced on the bed next to him. “Plus there’s a bonus.”
He arched an eyebrow at me. “Oh?”
“Yep. Kawasaki 3500 top of the line, fully loaded motorcycles. Black casing, shiny chrome.” I grinned. “They’re down at the Bayport Auto Garage.”
He grinned back. “Serious?”
“Totally.”
“Boys,” came our mother’s voice. “Dinner’s ready.”
I glanced out Frank’s open door. “Now how are we going to explain this to Mom?”
Let the author know what you think of this story
Home Library Authors Rogue's Gallery Vehicles Chums Message Board Rap Sheet Links Contact
Disclaimer
The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The authors have just borrowed them for an adventure or two. The authors promise to put the boys back when they are done with them. The authors do claim copyright to the original characters in this story. Please do not borrow original characters without express permission of the authors.