Read The Secret of Skeleton Reef Online

Authors: Franklin W. Dixon

The Secret of Skeleton Reef (13 page)

From their anchor posts, Frank, Joe, and Jamal looked over the starboard side of the boat, where the water was glimmering turquoise from the diving lights on the sea floor. Soon two heads with scuba masks popped out of the water. Joe recognized them as
Destiny
crew members: Vines, the one with a beard, and Wilson, the one with a mustache.

“What's going on?” Wilson called to the
Destiny
.

“Why are you moving the boat?” Vines shouted.

“Why don't
you
tell us!” Joe yelled back.

The two divers looked startled when they spied newcomers on the boat.

“Those boys!” Isaac shouted, still tied to the gunwale. “They have pirated the boat! And they have Chrissy Peters with them!”

Chrissy screamed in terror.

Frank heard someone climbing onto the boat
right behind him, but before he could turn, a muscular arm wrapped tightly around his chest. When Frank saw an anchor tattoo on the giant biceps, he realized the person holding him was Lou Brunelli.

Brunelli pressed the cold blade of a diving knife against Frank's throat. “Nobody make a move,” he called out. “If you do, brother Frank here gets his head cut off!”

15 The Truth Surfaces

With the sharp blade of the knife only inches from his jugular, Frank didn't dare to even blink an eye.

“Nobody is moving,” Jamal said, holding a calm hand in the air. “Everything is real cool.”

“Come out of the water!” Brunelli called to Vines and Wilson. Brunelli's eyes flashed with focused rage, and Joe realized he was probably the one in charge of the operation. Brunelli was bare-chested, wearing only his tank and the bottom of a wet suit. Wilson and Vines, wearing complete wet suits, swam toward the
Destiny
and climbed aboard.

“Untie Isaac and Ishmael!” Brunelli yelled to Wilson and Vines as he kept his diving knife at Frank's throat. “And get the guns.”

“They threw the rifles in the water!” Isaac called from the gunwale.

“Then get the spearguns,” Brunelli ordered.

As Wilson and Vines obeyed, Joe looked up at Chrissy on the bridge. She was staring at Brunelli, her eyes wide with recognition. “Chrissy, what is it?” Joe called up to her.

“I remember everything now!” Chrissy exclaimed. “Seeing Lou Brunelli standing there, his eyes glaring like a monster's, it's bringing the whole awful night flooding back to me!”

“I didn't want to hurt you, Chrissy,” Brunelli yelled. “I had no choice. You know that, don't you?”

Isaac and Ishmael were freed, and Wilson and Vines were holding loaded spearguns. “What happened?” Joe asked. He was not only trying to stall for time—he also wanted to get to the bottom of the mystery. “Come on. Tell us everything.”

“Should we kill them?” Vines asked, fingering the trigger of his speargun.

“Not yet,” Brunelli said. “I'm thinking.”

“Go on, Chrissy,” Joe urged.

“Let me see,” Chrissy said, gazing across the calm water. “Some time back, a few weeks ago, Sandy Flask mentioned to Brunelli that a lady had told him there was plutonium somewhere on the northern part of Skeleton Reef. Apparently it went down with a Cuban fishing boat about thirty years ago.”

“Keep going, Chrissy,” Jamal said.

“The lady wanted Flask to find the plutonium and give it to her,” Chrissy continued. “Flask said he would try when his work on the
Laughing Moon
slowed down. But Brunelli decided he wanted to find the plutonium right away.”

“Why?” Frank asked, the blade still at his neck.

“He wanted to sell it,” Chrissy explained. “He saw this as a quick way to get rich. Then he got Wilson, Vines, Isaac, and Ishmael to help him. They started moving the
Destiny
every night and diving on the northern reef to look for the lost plutonium.”

“So how did you get mixed up in this?” Jamal asked Chrissy.

“Go on, Miss Chrissy,” Brunelli said. “If you're going to tell the story, tell it all.”

“Brunelli and his mates spent a week looking for the plutonium,” Chrissy continued. “But apparently they were having a lot of trouble finding it. They wanted an extra hand. A few days ago Brunelli asked if I wanted to join the search. I said yes.”

“You sure did,” Brunelli said sarcastically. “So don't make out like you're the only innocent one around here, Miss Chrissy!”

“I was awfully broke,” Chrissy said, obviously feeling great shame. “Half my meals were just bananas and canned beans. And then, seeing all that beautiful gold every day made me desperate
for money. So, yes, I agreed to join them. Thursday night was supposed to be my first night on the job. I helped Pierre Montclare with his bookkeeping that night. Then, when I was done, I met Brunelli and these guys at the harbor. We took a boat out to the
Destiny
, then sailed to the northern end of the reef.”

“What happened next?” Joe asked.

“The guys were talking about who they might sell the plutonium to,” Chrissy explained. “They mentioned small countries, terrorist groups, rightwing organizations in the U.S. And for the first time I began to realize we would be helping some organization create an atomic bomb. A bomb that could destroy thousands of lives. I realized how terribly wrong this all was.”

“So you wanted out,” Frank said.

“I told them I couldn't go along,” Chrissy said. “I tried to get the others to see how evil this business was, but they were obsessed with the idea. They said they wouldn't stop, and then I noticed they were all looking at me strangely. I felt as if I were surrounded by a tribe of starving cannibals.”

“You would have put the whole operation at risk,” Wilson called out.

“Brunelli said they couldn't trust me anymore and that they couldn't let me go,” Chrissy said, her voice deepening with anger. “Then he pulled out his diving knife and held it to my neck, just as he's doing right now with Frank. Lou Brunelli, this guy
who was supposed to be my friend, was going to slit my throat!”

“But I didn't!” Lou shouted. “I didn't slit your throat, did I, Chrissy?”

“No,” Chrissy called down from the bridge, her voice ragged with emotion. “You said you couldn't kill someone you knew and liked. Then Isaac aimed the rifle at me, but he couldn't kill me, either. None of them could. Finally Lou said there was only one way to do it. He grabbed me and threw me overboard. I tried to climb back on the boat, but Isaac and Ishmael kept me away with the rifles. You see, they were too gutless to kill me, but they were happy to let me drown in the sea.”

“So you swam,” Jamal said.

“I had no choice,” Chrissy said. “I swam for St. Lucia, hoping I might find a vessel somewhere along the way. But I didn't come across anything so I just kept swimming. I got pretty far, but at some point I conked out.”

“And then we found you on the shore,” Joe said.

“That's right,” Chrissy answered. “The water must have brought me in.”

“I had a sneaking feeling you might have made it back alive,” Brunelli said. “I just had a feeling.”

“You're no dummy, Brunelli,” Frank scoffed.

“No, kid, I'm not,” Brunelli said, pressing the blade against Frank's neck. “Yesterday evening I stopped by the Soufrière hospital and discovered Chrissy had been there. I also found out there were
two teenage boys with her, one blond, one dark haired. Then I remembered all the nosy questions Frank and Joe Hardy were asking on the boat yesterday, and I figured they were the two teenagers.”

“So you tried to scare us off the case,” Joe said. “You found out where we were staying and tossed the bottle through the window. The black spot was a nice touch, by the way.”

“I thought you boys might appreciate that,” Brunelli said with a grin. “
Treasure Island
was the only book in school I liked.”

“And you were also the maniac shooting us with a speargun this afternoon,” Frank said.

“Careful who you call a maniac,” Brunelli said, nicking Frank's neck with the blade. “But yes, I followed you guys a long time yesterday until I had a shot at you. They were just warning shots, though. I'm not a killer by nature.”

“Come on, Lou,” Vines asked impatiently. “What are we going to do?”

“It's them or us,” Wilson said.

“We have to kill them.” Ishmael spoke in a very deep bass voice. “Otherwise we get no plutonium and we maybe go to jail.” Joe realized it was the first time he had actually heard Ishmael speak.

“But this time,” Isaac said, “we better make sure they're dead
before
we throw them in the water.”

“I know, I know, I know!” Brunelli thundered with fury and frustration. “I don't like it, but at this
point the only solution I can come up with is to deliver on that black spot. For all four of you.”

Over the past few minutes Frank had been searching his mind for a way to untie the deadly knot binding him and his companions. He finally realized a possible answer was staring him right in the face—on Brunelli's tattoo. Frank looked intently in Joe's direction, hoping his brother would notice.

Joe saw Frank staring at him. The Hardys were pretty good at communicating without words, and Joe was trying to figure out what exactly Frank had in mind. Frank glanced at the anchor tattoo on Brunelli's biceps, then at the anchor line running right near his feet.

Joe got it. He nodded slightly at Frank.

Frank took a step forward and kicked the anchor lever. The motor whirred, hauling anchor line into the boat. “Watch it!” Brunelli said, moving forward with Frank, thinking he was trying to escape.

But Joe was right there. He stopped the lever, waited, then pulled the lever in the other direction.

“Ahhhh!” Brunelli screamed as a loop of slack rope tightened around his ankle. The knife clattered onto the deck, and Brunelli was jerked off his feet by the uncoiling rope, then dragged across the deck.

Joe pushed in the lever. The line stopped pulling Brunelli but was still biting into his ankle. “Owww, that hurts!” Brunelli yelled, trying in vain to loosen the rope from his leg.

“Drop the spearguns and jump overboard!” Joe shouted. “All of you! As soon as you're in, we'll free Brunelli!” Wilson, Vines, and the two islanders hesitated.

“Drop the spearguns and jump!” Joe repeated. “Otherwise your friend here might lose a leg. Don't worry, we're not going to let you die.”

“Do it!” Brunelli screamed in pain. “Now!”

“But, Lou—” Wilson began.

“Please!” Brunelli yelled in agony. “Jump!”

Wilson and Vine dropped their spearguns on the deck and jumped into the water. Isaac and Ishmael splashed in after them.

Joe immediately hauled some anchor line back in, allowing Brunelli to free his leg. Frank realized Brunelli's injury probably would not be too bad since the man's ankles were covered by the wet suit.

“Sorry about this,” Joe said as he and Frank grabbed the injured Brunelli and heaved him overboard. But as he fell, Brunelli grabbed Frank's arm and pulled him into the water with him. At once, Isaac and Ishmael raced over to Frank and pushed him underwater.

“That's it for him,” Vines said, treading water.

Jamal picked up the two spearguns and handed one to Joe. The two boys lowered their masks, inserted their mouthpieces, and leaped into the water.

As his weight belt pulled him downward, Joe
looked around. Through the eerie, shimmering glow of the diving lights, Joe saw Isaac and Ishmael holding Frank down. Isaac and Ishmael's cheeks were puffed out, and Joe could see they had been prepared to hold their breaths. Frank, however, had been caught off guard and was desperately in need of air.

Joe aimed his speargun at Ishmael, then pulled the trigger. A spear sailed swiftly through the clear water and ripped through Ishmael's pants. The giant released Frank to pull the spear from his leg. Then Frank kicked Isaac in the chest, freed himself, and swam madly for the surface.

A hand ripped out Joe's mouthpiece. As Joe clamped his mouth shut, Lou Brunelli grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him around. Brunelli was drawing breath from a tank, but Joe had only seconds of air stored in his own lungs.

Joe drove the butt of the speargun into Brunelli's chest, but with one hand Brunelli yanked the gun away and tossed it. Glancing around, Joe saw Jamal skirmishing with the other bad guys in the watery distance. Frank was nowhere in sight. As Brunelli kept holding him, second after long second, Joe felt his eyes start to bulge from lack of oxygen.

Brunelli continued holding Joe with a viselike grip around his throat.

Joe felt his lungs were about to explode!

Dizzy and disoriented, Joe glimpsed a swarm of scarlet fish below. No, the scarlet wasn't fish, it was
coral, he dimly realized. Joe knew he couldn't free himself from Brunelli's powerful grasp, but he had an idea. With a burst of strength, he shoved Brunelli downward.

Brunelli let go of Joe, his face distorted with pain as his bare back scraped against the sharp coral. Joe quickly kicked his way to the surface.

Frank saw Joe swimming up as he swam down to help Jamal, who was now surrounded by Wilson, Vines, Isaac, and Ishmael. Jamal shot his last spear, catching Wilson in the fin. As the others converged on Jamal, Frank swam into the fray, holding everyone back with a freshly loaded speargun Chrissy had just handed him from the deck of the
Destiny
.

Frank pointed downward, indicating he wanted all the bad guys to descend farther. Fearing the speargun's vengeance, the four villains descended as Frank and Jamal shot upward for the surface.

Frank and Jamal broke through the water, then called to Joe, who was about to go down again. The three boys clambered aboard the
Destiny
, brought up the anchors, and Chrissy began piloting the boat away. The five bad guys popped out of the water like corks.

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