Toward evening he improvised a crisis. The Underground was plotting something big, he transmitted. He made the need for action imperative and asked for a personal interview. At first Wagner demurred. He wanted Buckmaster to stay on and give first hand reports. Buckmaster gave hints in return that he was suspected by the other members, and indicated that he must leave while still able to. Finally Wagner agreed.
"You realize the risk you're taking, coming with me, Cecil?" Buckmaster asked.
"I do," Cuff said with his unchangeable reserve. "But you'll need my help."
Buckmaster wished he himself could remain as cool. His own nerves felt like wires that had been drawn too tightly.
Cuff was tall and robust, with a pessimistic outlook on life. He seemed to sit back and watch life and its peoples as a spectator, willing to fight ruthlessly for what he believed was right, but never expecting to discover anything fine enough in his fellow men to hope for anything better from them. He had touched the borders of an existence that was mean and hard and dirty and he had long ago despaired of finding anything else. Yet there was nothing apathetic about his personality. Life's illusions were gone, but its fascination remained.
"I didn't think you trusted me too much," Buckmaster said. Cuff acknowledged the statement by nodding his head. "I believed that you might be under Wagner's power. Wagner is a brute trying to break us. On this trip you're going to make your own heaven or hell, and if you've got the courage to face it, I'll back you up."
In the Administration Building the girl at the information desk told them, "The Director will see you in a moment." She led them into a waiting room.
Three hard-faced men, all wearing black shirts, came in. They had the mark of killers about them.
"Stand up."