ATAC BRIEFING FOR AGENTS FRANK AND JOE HARDY MISSION: To smoke out the mastermind behind and learn the structure of an illegal international CD-burning operation that employs teenagers. LOCATION: Local and global. Start close to home. POTENTIAL VICTIMS: Misicians. Record companies. Unsuspecting customers who are unaware that they are participating in illegal activity. SUSPECTS: Start with Julian sanders, your classmate. Work from there. THIS MISSION REQUIRES YOUR IMMEDIATE ATTENTION. THIS MESSAGE WILL BE ERASED IN FIVE SECONDS. Franklin W. Dixon is the author of the ever-popular Hardy Boys books. Burned By Franklin W. Dixon Aladdin Copyright © 2005 Franklin W. Dixon All right reserved. ISBN: 9781416900085 JOE 1. SSSSSSSSS! I heard the hissing sound first. Then I saw it slither out of its cage. Easy, dude. I stopped in my tracks and held my breath. The creature moved so fast I could only make out a blur of gray scales uncoiling at my feet. In two seconds flat, the reptile reared up in front of me -- and locked eyes with mine. Hello. It was "The King." And I'm not talking about Elvis Presley. This was a king cobra. Twelve feet of angry, hissing poison with beady yellow eyes, a big flaring hood, and a glistening pair of needle-sharp fangs. I kid you not. "Don't move, Joe." My brother Frank lay on the floor in the corner, next to a smelly tank of baby turtles. I was glad to see that he was okay. Outback Mack had clobbered him pretty good with a twenty-pound bag of pet feed. Yes, the Outback Mack. "You may have seen his hokey homemade commercials on late-night TV "G'day, mates," he'd drawl in his exaggerated Australian accent. "I'm Outback Mack. And if you like rare and exotic animals as much as I do, you'll just love Outback Mack's Animal Shack. We've got snakes, turtles, iguanas, gators, you name it...all in one convenient location off Route 17." Then he'd cock his pith helmet, hold up a lizard, and wink. "You gotta love 'em." What a creep. If he loved rare and exotic animals so much, why would he ship them into the country illegally, packed into filthy crates as if they were office supplies? Outback Mack was a criminal, no doubt about it. Which is why Frank and I were assigned to this case. Let me explain. My brother and I are undercover agents for ATAC -- American Teens Against Crime -- and we applied for after-school jobs at Outback Mack's so we could gather evidence of illegal wildlife trading. The United States has strict laws about importing and selling exotic animals, and Outback Mack was breaking every rule in the book. The fool even thought he could advertise his business on television without getting caught. But Frank and I underestimated him. Outback Mack had figured out who we were and what we were doing. He caught my brother going through his files -- and that's when he clubbed him with a big bag of pet feed. And -- oh, yeah -- that's when he unleashed the king cobra. Nice guy. I could hear Outback Mack's footsteps as he dashed down a corridor and out of the warehouse. I could also hear the king cobra...hissing at me. "Stay calm, Joe," Frank whispered. Was he kidding? There I was, face-to-face with a giant killer reptile, and my oh-so-thoughtful brother wanted me to stay calm? Yeah, right No problem, bro. The cobra flared its hood even wider. "This is not cool, Frank," I managed to gasp. "He's getting ready to strike." "Just relax. King cobras aren't usually aggressive. They tend to flee." "Really? Tell him that." "Don't make any sudden moves." "I'm not planning to." "Just hold still and I'll call for backup." Frank slowly pulled his cell phone from his jacket pocket and speed-dialed the local police. I stood there like a statue, frozen by the cold stare of the king cobra. If looks could kill... Those eyes were the scariest things I'd ever seen -- except maybe for those fangs. What are you looking at, snake? Your next lunch? A pink forked tongue darted in and out of the cobra's mouth. I couldn't help but wonder what I looked like through the eyes of a snake. A super-sized cheeseburger? An extra-tall order of fries? "Help is on the way" said Frank, clicking off his phone. "Great," I replied. "But what if Mr. Hissy here bites me before they arrive?" Frank took a deep breath. "Actually, king cobras aren't as venomous as smaller cobras." "So I wouldn't die?" Frank hesitated. "Well, um, probably. One bite delivers enough venom to bring down an elephant...or twenty men." "Thanks for the fun facts, Mr. Discovery Channel." The snake hissed at the sound of my voice. "Quiet, Joe," my brother whispered. "I have an idea." "It better be a good one." "It's the only one I got." "That's good enough for me." Frank rose slowly to his feet. " YDU have your CD player with you, right?" "Sure," I answered. "It's in my back pocket. Why? Do you want to groove on some tunes while I die? Go ahead, check out the new Thrasher CD. That should drown out my screams." "May