Free Final Cut by Franklin W. Dixon Page A

the wall right where his head had been a second before. The crowd gasped and pointed but didn't know what was happening only a few feet away. It was just as well, thought Frank, who had knelt behind the shelter of another car. Otherwise the situation could all too easily turn into a general panic.
    Joe put his walkie-talkie close to his mouth. "Can you figure out where the sniper's shooting from?" he whispered.
    Frank had been scanning the area. "He has to be up on one of the roofs across the street, whoever it is."
    Now Joe, also looking from one roof to the next, saw a flash of movement from the one directly across from their sidewalk position. The barrel of a gun suddenly appeared, and somebody's arms and head. But at that distance and angle it was impossible to tell who it was.
    "Frank," Joe said softly into his mouthpiece, "did you see the gun?"
    "Affirmative," replied Frank. "He seemed to pop up to take another shot, and then realized that we had gone to ground. He knew he didn't have a clear line of fire."
    "Let's take him as soon as the scene is done," Joe said, and Frank agreed.
    The scene ended, and Kandinsky yelled, "Cut! And print!" as the crowd began to applaud.
    The Hardys leapt from their cover and sprinted across the street. Reaching the door of the building where they'd seen the sniper, they ducked inside. The roof was four stories up, and they took the stairs two at a time. At the top of the last flight of steps was the door to the roof. It was standing slightly ajar.
    They paused and, with great care, slowly pushed the metal door open. They leapt back as a burst of automatic fire greeted them.
    "Looks like we found the right place," said Frank as they crouched behind the door. "Did you see the shooter?" Joe asked.
    "Yeah," replied Frank. "It's Sam Freed."
    "Looks like he is crazy after all," said Joe. "How do we handle this?"
    "How about if one of us distracts him while the other one jumps him?" suggested Frank.
    "Great idea!" Joe snapped. "Let's see, he's got an Uzi or something and we have zip. How do we distract him, with funny stories?"
    "The building alongside this one is a story higher," Frank said. "You stay here. Give me exactly one minute and then slam that door open with a lot of noise. I'll come at him from behind, off that taller roof."
    Joe replied, "You have to run down four flights of steps here, and then up five flights next door. Let's make it ninety seconds. You're not as young as you used to be."
    "And you're not as funny as you think you are," responded Frank. "Okay, ninety seconds. Check your watch, starting - now!"
    Frank started down the stairs, and Joe remained in a crouch by the door, keeping his eyes focused on his watch's second hand.
    As Frank reached the street, he heard Trish call out to him but didn't answer as he ran into the neighboring building.
    He pounded up the five flights and rushed onto the adjoining roof. He moved quietly to the edge and looked over. Freed was squatting with his back to Frank behind a large metal ventilator hood, cradling an Uzi.
    As the ninety seconds ended, Joe kicked the metal door open. It swung around and crashed into the wall. He yelled, "Here we come, Freed! Ready or not!" Then he jumped back out of the line of fire. Freed swung his Uzi and fired a burst. The bullets kicked up tar and gravel from the surface of the roof, while others smacked into the stairwell wall, barely missing Joe.
    As Joe moved, Frank swung over the edge and dropped the single story down to the other building. Freed was focused on the open doorway. Abruptly he sensed someone was behind him, but before he could turn and fire, Frank hit him with a shoulder in the small of the back. The thug was knocked forward, sprawling to the ground.
    "Joe!" shouted Frank. "Move it!"
    Joe broke from his cover and charged Freed, whose Uzi lay just beyond his outstretched arm. Freed gave the younger Hardy a murderous look and launched himself forward. He grabbed the gun, pointed it at Joe,