Chapter 2

The stairs did not go as deep as David had presumed. He and the servant turned left along a corridor and then up some more stairs. Through a door and they were outside once more. "What the hell's going on here? Thought David, and wished he had been able to wear a side-arm. In the gloom, he looked nervously about. "This way Sir" prompted the butler. David sighed and followed.

Along darkened Downing Street they walked until they came to s small flight of stairs down to a basement door. His guide knocked, and the door opened a crack. Light streamed out. "Yes?" queried a woman's voice. "It's the American Gent, Ma'am — Colonel Ogilvy."

The door opened wider and David was ushered in. "Come in, come in" The woman encouraged. "Welcome to Number 1 Storey's Gate — or 'The Dungeon' to its inmates" she laughed. In the light of the flickering globe David recognised his welcomer. "Miss Ive, a pleasure to meet you" "Ooo, aren't you a saucey one!" she simpered as he took her hand and kissed it! "My mum warned me about you Yanks. You can call me Ruth."

David had met Ruth two days earlier, when she had come to the American Embassy to confirm David's appoinment. Her looks were nothing to write home about; an aging spinster, was his first assessment. As they had bantered, while he signed various papers she needed, they had bantered, and she had flirted terrribly. Now she was at it again.

"So where to now Ruth?" "This way" she replied and led David past two burly looking British Marines down a short corridor to a narrow stairwell, which she started to descend. David hesitated. "Sir" One of the guards spoke,. "Its pretty steep. Would you like me to look after your package while you climb down." "Then how would I collect my package?" queried David. "I could toss it down" smiled the soldier, "or send it down the stores lift". "Thanks, but no thanks" David replied. And holding his parcel even tighter he started to negotiate the stairs.

As he reached the bottom, Ruth was waiting. They moved out into a busy corridor, The sound of the diesel-driven air conditioner's ever-present rumble, seemed to seep into David's bones. There were people everywhere.

The corridor stretched a long way to left and right — its ends obscured by the activity. Phones were ringing constantly. Typewriters were clacking and people were talking loudly.

"Is it always like this?" questioned David. "Gosh! You ought to have seen it in '44" Ruth responded. "Its was a madhouse!"

Ruth stepped out confidently, with David close on her heels. Moving left from the entrance they moved through the hurrying secretaries and bureaucrats till they came to yet another stairwell. "I'll leave you here. Go on down. And good luck!"

"Anymore luck and I could sink a battleship" grumbled David and he carefully descended ever further into the earth.