Deathgame by Franklin W. Dixon Page B

fell backward, Frank on top of him. Frank's hands went for Brand's machine gun, trying to wrest it from him.
    "Go for Hammerlock's gun, Joe! Get the gun!" Frank shouted. The machine gun in his hands quivered like a living thing as he grappled with Brand, its barrel swaying back and forth before his face. If Brand got his finger inside the trigger guard, Frank's plan would turn into another disaster.
    Frank had heard the gunfire, which told both Brand and him where the colonel was located. Then he had followed Brand and company, climbing a tree while Brand confronted Hammerlock. All the time Frank kept trying to figure out the best plan of attack against four weapons when he had none!
    Brand had forced the issue, with his decision to carry out an on-the-spot execution. Frank had to do something immediately.
    He had tensed his muscles for the jump, choosing his target. It had to be Brand. Frank knew Joe would go into action, and he suspected that Lauren and Terry would do the same. Even Hammerlock should be on their side in the resulting skirmish.
    When Frank and Brand tumbled into the sand, the two mercenaries looked around in confusion, as if trying to decide whom to shoot first. They did not have more than a couple of seconds to consider.
    Joe dove wildly, hit the sand on his right shoulder, grabbed Hammerlock's pistol in the middle of a roll, and came up on one knee. The gun felt heavy and gritty with sand.
    Hammerlock elbowed the mercenary nearest him in the stomach and had that man's weapon in his hands before Joe was in a firing position. The last soldier swung his gun toward Hammerlock, but the huge man was gone, swallowed up by the jungle.
    Terry hurled himself into the other soldier with a jolting body block that sent the man and weapon flying.
    The man Terry had hit lay curled up on the ground, gurgling. He did not look as if he would want to move for a long, long time.
    Brand was up, bashing Frank's hands against a sand-covered rock. Once! Twice! Frank tried to hold on to the weapon, but once he realized it was useless, he let go and scrambled away. Brand tried to bring the weapon to bear on Frank, but thought better of it when Joe snapped off a shot with the Super Blackhawk.
    The gun's heavy recoil shook Joe's gun hand, jerking it up.
    Before he could get off another shot, Brand thrashed away into the jungle. They could hear him running.
    Joe looked at the gun in his hand with new respect.
    Frank got to his feet, rubbing his knuckles where Brand had battered them. Joe ran over to him.
    "Miss me?" Frank asked with a grin.
    Frank was the color of mud, from head to toe.
    Joe looked him over in disbelief. "You look like a walking lump of oatmeal."
    "That's a nice way to talk to someone who just saved your life."
    Joe hugged him fiercely. "I don't care if I do get crud all over me!"
    Terry ran up to them, holding one of the machine guns. His face was glowing with victory.
    "I can't believe we did it!" he shouted, and then all three were hugging one another.
    "Someone keep telling me, 'I'm alive! I'm alive!' " Lauren said, joining the group.
    Terry spoke excitedly. "When that spear got Hammerlock and he just yanked it out, I told myself, 'It can't be.' And then when he aimed his gun at you," — he shook Joe happily — "I've got to tell you, I didn't figure your chances were very hot."
    Joe grinned. "Imagine how I felt." He took a deep breath. We all fought Hammerlock. We're all on the same side!
    Terry backed away from the group, wiping mud off his clothes. He took a long look at Frank.
    "Frank," he said, "you're a mess."
    He smiled. "Yeah. But we made Hammerlock miss his breakfast."
    Lauren gave a good imitation of being contrite. "Yes, I feel bad about that." She broke into a laugh of relief. "But I think I can get over it."
    Joe noticed the wet bloodstain on Lauren's side. "How bad is it?" he asked, worried.
    "Not bad," she replied gamely, but he knew it hurt.
    "We should get you patched up. Let's take a seat over