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Facing them, five feet away, was Maurice Reynard, his gun leveled.
Drop your gun," Maurice ordered Frank, and Frank had to obey.
"You two were clever, but not clever enough. Now back off from the boat, in case you
have any idea of diving for cover."
Frank and Joe exchanged helpless glances.
They had no choice but to obey.
Smiling, Maurice stood between them and the boat. "That is the end of your bag of
tricks. Uncle Paul said that he preferred that we bring you back to be tortured so that you
would reveal your secrets. But he said we could kill you if necessary. I have decided-"
At that moment, Maurice's gun fell from his hand as the blade of an oar smashed across
the back of his head. Then his body collapsed in the sand, covering the gun.
Denise dropped the oar she had swung and was
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on her hands and knees instantly, rolling Maurice over to get her hands on the gun.
Before the Hardys' startled eyes, she had emerged from under the boat with the oar in
her hands. It had been all they could do to keep their faces straight.
"Good job," Frank congratulated her.
"As you Americans say, no sweat." Denise got to her feet with the gun.
"No sweat?" said Joe, looking at her soaked clothing.
"Oh, that," replied Denise. "I merely took a little swim. I jumped into the sea, swam
underwater, and while the Reynards were looking in the area where they'd seen me go
under, I rode the breakers in farther down the beach. I saw this boat lying here and
crawled under it."
"Undercover work is definitely your specialty," said Joe, grinning.
"I do my best." Denise smiled. "And you two don't do so badly either."
"Three down, one to go," said Frank. "Let's take the helicopter back to the chateau
before Paul Reynard starts worrying that something has gone wrong."
"And his nephews?" asked Joe.
"Denise can alert the police to pick them up anytime," replied Frank. "But Paul
Reynard will be harder to handle if he makes a rim for it."
Frank picked up the gun he had dropped. Joe went back to the dune and found Yves's
gun.
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Then they headed toward the helicopter, which was parked on the beach.
"I can't wait to see the expression on old Uncle Paul's face when he sees us," said Joe
as they reached the helicopter and Joe's hand reached out to open the door.
But the door flew open before he touched it. Paul Reynard stood there with a gun in his
hand, an evil look of triumph on his face.
"You have had your fun," he said, waving Joe back with his gun. Then he climbed out
of the helicopter. "But now your fun is over. Now it is my turn. As you Americans say,
he who laughs last, laughs best.
"You actually thought you could outsmart me," he went on. "You should have known
that I would be thinking one step ahead of every move you made. Now at last your luck
has run out. March-to your deaths."
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Chapter 17
REYNARD GESTURED WITH his gun for Denise, Frank, and Joe to march ahead of
him down the beach. Silently they obeyed. As they walked along, Paul Reynard spoke
boastfully to them, enjoying his triumph to the fullest.
"I could, of course, kill you this very second with three quick bullets," he said. "I
assure you, that is all it would take. I am an excellent shot, and I have the pistol
championship medals to prove it. I would have no trouble putting a bullet in each of your
brains at this short distance.
"But that would end our game far too quickly. Such a short, sweet death would not be
punishment enough for the trouble you have caused me. It would rob me of the pleasure
of seeing you
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tremble with terror and sweat with fear. It would be like making a meal of fast food,
instead of dining properly, as a good Frenchman should, savoring each well-prepared
morsel of the feast. Now march up this trail."
Again the three of them had to obey. They hiked up a trail that led from the beach to a
patch of high ground directly overlooking the sea. Frank noticed another old German gun
emplacement, but before he could make a move toward it, Paul Reynard said, "Do not
even think of ducking into that shelter. You would die before you took two steps. Just
continue walking until I tell you to stop."
Their march became a climb as the cliff top rose higher, then higher still. Soon they
stood looking down at the moonlit sea far below.
"You may turn to face me," said Paul Reynard.
They did so, and saw him standing ten feet away, his gun leveled at them.
"Observe how elegant your execution will be," he said. "My bullets will hit you and
you will drop off the edge of the cliff into the sea below. Perhaps the tides will wash you
out so that you will never be found. It doesn't matter, though. There will be nothing in the
world to link me with your deaths."
Joe could stand it no longer. "Look, do me a favor and just blow me away, instead of
boring me to death with your speeches," he said angrily.
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"You Reynards seem better at shooting off your mouths than your guns."
Anger shadowed Paul Reynard's face as well.
"So you find me boring," he snarled. "Before you go to sleep, let me wake you up by
showing you what this gun will soon do to you-and what kind of terror you should feel."
Rage gleaming in his eyes, Paul Reynard pointed his gun at the ground to demonstrate
its deadly power. He pulled the trigger. There was a deafening report as the gun went off.
And then there was an even louder explosion, an explosion that hurled Paul Reynard
backward, his gun hand instinctively shielding his face.
Denise, Frank, and Joe didn't have to look at each other to know what to do. Instantly
they attacked.
Frank hit Reynard high, Joe hit him low, and Denise snatched up his gun from where it
had fallen.
She trained it on him as he sat on the ground, still half-stunned, shaking his head in
bewilderment.
"What happened?" he asked hoarsely.
Denise read a large sign that was posted on the area where they stood: "Warning:
Unexploded shells and mines. Do not enter upon penalty of the law."
Frank grinned at Reynard.
"This was a bad place to go shooting off your
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gun," Frank said. "Now you see what happens when you break the law."
His joke wasn't very good, but that didn't stop the three of them from laughing at it.
Two days later, flight bookings and customs and passport clearances had been arranged
for the Hardy brothers. With the Reynards finished and the Hardys out of danger, the
Network was only too willing to help.
"Good thing you remembered the Gray Man's temporary number," Joe had said to
Frank.
"Elementary, my good man," Frank had replied, smiling.
"At least the Gray Man was happy to see us," Joe said.
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