His remarks were interrupted as a tense voice blared out over the public-address system:
“Everyone leave the terminal at once! Repeat -leave the terminal at once!
There is no cause for panic, but please get out quickly!”
There was a stunned hush, then an excited babble as people began hurrying toward the exits. Tom grabbed Sandy’s hand and spoke to his cousin. “Come on, Ed! Let’s go!”
The three had just reached the parking lot outside when a loud blast was heard. Smoke billowed from the airport building.
“A bomb!” Tom cried.
18 TRIPHIBIAN ATOMICAR
Fire sirens were already screaming in the distance. In a short time a hook and ladder arrived, followed by a police car, then another fire truck. The crowd watched anxiously as the police and firemen plunged into the smoking interior.
In twenty minutes exhaust fans had cleared away the last wisps of smoke, and the same voice -much calmer now-was announcing: “Ladies and gentlemen, we regret this shocking inconvenience, but the terminal is now perfectly safe. The blast was caused by a smoke bomb, and we hope the police will soon arrest the person responsible!”
Most of the crowd showed signs of relief, although some were still angry and shaken.
“Well, well,” joked Ed Longstreet, mopping his forehead with a handkerchief.
“Quite a welcome you folks arranged for me!”
Tom laughed wryly and told Sandy to take their cousin to the car while he picked up Ed’s suitcase. Soon the Swifts and their guest were driving home.
When they arrived, Tom’s parents greeted Ed warmly. Then Mrs. Swift, slender and pretty, served glasses of iced fruit juice while their visitor settled himself in an easy chair and Sandy recounted the airport bomb scare. Mr. Swift, tall and athletic-looking, with steel-blue eyes, listened with keen interest.