Part Two
Sally folded the paper, glancing guiltily around as she did so. Now the brightness of the day was her enemy as she hurried toward the safety of the agency. She felt as if a hundred eyes were staring her, as if fingers were being pointed accusingly. TERRORIST. TERRORIST. The word seemed to thunder and rolled around her, following even when, controlled by panic, she started to run.
She reached the agency and slammed the door behind her. Inside was cool and dimly lighted, and there was safety from prying eyes. Calmness and reason returned with the feeling of safety. Terrorists? Just who were they supposed to have terrorized? She spread the now crumpled paper on the desk, smoothed out the pages and sat down to read it fully.
The report concerned a Major Smith and his wife, whose car had been forced off the road by unknown assailants. Mrs. Smith had been thrown clear when the car had crashed, and the major had been able to free himself and crawl away from the wreckage. The man and woman who had caused the crash had proceeded to fire pistol shots into the petrol tank of the crashed car, causing it to explode. They had then driven away at high speed, apparently satisfied with their nights work and unaware that their intended victims were unhurt, except for a few scratches, and severe shock in Mrs. Smith's case.
The victims had been able to identify their assailants because they had noticed their interest earlier in the evening. The reason for the attack was not known, but the major had recently been involved in a large military exercise that had uncovered the headquarters and secret arsenal of a militant organization known as the U.F.L.F. It was believed that the cowardly, and vicious attack on the major had been a reprisal attack by this organization.
The police had launched a massive manhunt to track down the armed and extremely dangerous pair.
Sally leaned back and shuddered with relief. So that was it: The misunderstanding could easily be explained away. She felt like laughing aloud at the absurdity of it all. Terrorists indeed! But she did not feel like laughing when she thought of the horror the major and his wife had faced the previous night. She reached for the telephone with the intention of calling the police and clearing things up immediately. She paused with the receiver in her hand, then replaced it slowly. A gleam came into her eyes as she thought of James' reaction to the news. He should suffer, she decided. It was all his fault and he deserved a shock as sharp as the one she had received. He had tangled their lives up in this situation, let him sort it all out.
It was two o'clock in the afternoon when James strolled into the agency. He found Sally calmly working at her desk.
“Any news?” he asked hopefully.
Sally shook her head and continued with her work.
“Never mind.” James sounded rather deflated. “I suppose we can't expect something to happen every day.” He went toward his office and Sally called him back.
“You might care to glance at this newspaper,” she suggested casually. “It may contain something of interest.”
He took the paper and was poring over the sports news on the back page as he disappeared into his office. Sally watched the open door with interest. She hadn't long to wait. Less than two minutes later James popped his head around the doorway.
“Wretch!” he exclaimed. “This is obviously a likeness of you. What have you been up to with this criminal looking type next to you?”
Sally burst out laughing. James stood and read the article thoroughly.
“I was going to ring the police earlier, but I decided to leave that chore for you.” she teased. He looked at her and something in his eyes chased her laughter away.
“You didn't phone, did you?” he asked sharply. Sally shook her head and she felt fear touch her again as she watched James read over the front page again, slowly, carefully.
“It will be all right? We can easily explain, can't we?” she asked anxiously.
James looked at her thoughtfully and her heart sank. It would not be all right, she knew. James' stern face, the worry in his eyes told her that much.
“I'm sorry, Sandy. I don't think it's going to be quite as simple as you seem to think. I wish it was though,” he sighed.
“Sally! But why isn't it that simple? I don't see any difficulty about explaining what really happened,” Sally said, puzzled by his attitude.
“And what can we explain? That we did follow the major all evening? That we actually chased after him when he drove away? It doesn't sound very innocent, does it?” James pointed out.
“But the policeman who stopped us: Surely that's a point in out favor? You said yourself that we would never catch the major after that delay. And the policeman will have the time in his note book.”
“Ah, yes. The policeman,” James said thoughtfully. “I wonder why he stopped us?” “Because we were speeding, of course,” Sally said impatiently.
“But the major passed him first going just as fast, if not faster, than we were. And yet we were stopped. No summons, just lectured. Or delayed,” he finished meaningfully.
“I don't believe it,” Sally said firmly. “You're letting your imagination get the better of what little good sense you possess. Bogus policemen: That is too fantastic for words.”
James shrugged his shoulders. “Perhaps,” he said, but his tone implied that there wasn't any doubt in his mind.
“But I shouldn't phone the police, not just yet. After all, we were identified.”
“This is ridiculous” Sally protested. “When we followed the major we were working.....” She stopped and looked at James triumphantly. “That‘s it: We were working: Who phoned you? Who was it that employed us?” she asked eagerly. “Surely that's all the proof we need?”
“I shouldn't build your hopes too high,” James said gently. “This whole affair is beginning to....”
“Who employed us?” Sally repeated impatiently. “We have got to get to the bottom of all this, and quickly.”
“We were employed by the major's secretary,” James sighed wearily. “I haven’t the phone number, but the address is Stratlang street. But Sandy....” He stopped.
Sally wasn't listening to him as she thumbed rapidly through the directory. “Who shall I say is calling?” she asked as she dialed.
“Assassination Inc.?” James suggested. Sally glared at him.
“No? Better pretend to be from a news agency. The major will have had plenty of those calling him, one more won't arouse suspicion.”
“I do think that you are exaggerating our position. It seems to me to be a matter......Hello, Major Smythe's office? This is Amalgamated News here, I'm checking on a rumor that the major