He snapped, "Worse than I thought, sir. This outfit is
possibly openly subversive. Deliberately undermining the economy."
His superior put down the report he was perusing and shifted his bulk
backward. "You're sure? We seldom run into such extremes."
"I know, I know, but this could be it. Possibly a deliberate program.
I've taken the initiative to have Miss Sandell summon my team."
"Now, see here, Frank--" The bureau head looked at him anxiously.
Tracy said, impatience there, "Chief, you're going to have to let your
field men use their discretion. I tell you, this thing is a potential
snowball. I'll play it cool. Arrange things so that there'll be no
scandal for the telly-reporters. But we've got to chill this one
quickly, or it'll be on a coast to coast basis before the year is out.
They're even talking about going into automobiles."
The Chief winced, then said unhappily, "All right, Tracy. However, mind
what I said. Curb those roughnecks of yours."
* * *
It proved considerably easier than Frank Tracy had hoped for. Adam
Moncure's national headquarters turned out to be in a sparsely settled
area not far from Woodstock, Illinois. The house, in the passe ranch
style, must have once been a millionaire's baby, what with an artificial
fishing lake in the back, a kidney shaped swimming pool, extensive
gardens and an imposing approach up a corridor of trees.
"Right up to the front door," Tracy growled to the operative driving the
first hover-car of their two-vehicle expedition. "The quicker we move,
the better." He turned his head to the men in the rear seat. "We five
will go in together. I don't expect trouble, they'll have had no advance
warning. I made sure of that. Jerry has equipment in his car to blanket
any radio sending. We'll take care of phones in the house. No rough
stuff, we want to talk to these people."
One of the men growled, "Suppose they start shooting?"
Tracy snorted. "Then shoot back, of course. But just don't you start it.
I shouldn't have to tell you these things."
"Got it," one of the others said. He shifted his shoulders to loosen the
.38 Recoilless in its holster.
At the ornate doorway, the cars, which had been moving fast, a foot or
so off the ground, came to a quick halt, settled, and the men disgorged,
guns in hand.
Tracy called to the occupants of the other vehicle, "On the double.
Surround the house. Don't let anybody leave. Come on, boys."
They scu
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