Strongarmed

Phil Armstrong stood a pace or two back from the front step, looking embarrassed and ill-at-ease.

At the sound of Alice's voice, his eyes flicked up momentarily from the point on the ground where he was staring - but then, unable to meet her gimlet gaze, he looked down again.

Clearing his throat, he began to mumble something.

"What was that?" screeched Margaret. "Speak up, now."

He muttered something, cleared his throat again, and managed to say "...going to help you" clearly enough to be understood.

When they didn't reply, he continued.

"Hewson and the Major. The others. I can tell you exactly what they're up to ... and help you stop them."

Margaret and Alice exchanged puzzled looks.

"Yeah?" replied Margaret after what seemed like minutes. "And why would you want to do that?"

"Well, to be honest, it wasn't entirely his idea," said a voice from somewhere to Armstrong's left.

A very familiar voice.



Part Three begins here.