They played fast and loose with Punjab’s abilities in this one. One of my favorite Gray stories involved Annie, Oliver and Punjab trapped in a mine. They were being hounded by bad guys who tried to poison them with gas. They used dynamite to close off the shaft, but then they were trapped with limited air, and nothing was said about Punjab having any extraordinary ability to breath.
That’s a pretty good likeness of president Nixon in silhouette. The date on this is July. 1970. The Washington Post/Pentagon Papers/Watergate fiasco is just around the corner, but it’s kind of interesting that this writer conjured up a “foreign power” that looks so much like Russia, but with no mention of Vietnam. I was serving with the Air Force in Japan, and I can’t recall this story. Maybe the Pacific Stars and Stripes didn’t carry Annie. They did carry Dick Tracy.
I can’t remember an actual bowler, but you should be able to find Tracy in a small, short brimmed hat, which he used to enter Sleet’s mother’s room while pretending to be a drunk. Also, a chauffeur’s cap while driving a disguised Sam in the Pearshape story. And in later Gould stories, he sometimes used a ball cap while exploring with the magnetic air cars.
But, Ray, to be fair, she is taking some action in today’s offering.
And you call yourself a writer! You can’t imagine a scenario where she closes the door after Howdy leaves, and, in a distraught state, paces around her room for some time, trying to think what to do, before it comes to here that she should call? (whomever it is that she is calling). Come on. She’d be debating, if she calls for help, will the bad guys somehow know? Who should she call? Is there anything she could do on her own? Should she cave in and call her company, like the bad guys told her to do? That’s just human nature, and it is not at all unlikely that 45 minutes passed from the time the first knock came on her door, through the exchange with Howdy, until this moment. Now you’re just grasping at straws, trying to find something, anything, to pick on each day.
I’m glad you mentioned that about train crews “timing out” – I mentioned it back when she had been on the train for just a couple of days. But the train kept going and going and going! There had to be a couple of crew changes in there somewhere!
Radiator fluid dripping out?
I really hope she doesn’t try to handle this internally, as Howdy instructs her. The usual trope in this kind of situation is for the person being extorted to try to figure it out on their own, which only makes it worse, It would be very refreshing if she “agreed” to Howdy’s demands, but then went to Tracy at the first opportunity. Because now this is a real, first class felony. Tracy and the team can go all out on it.
Of course, there is the possibility that they will be watching her for just such a move. But I doubt they have the capability to monitor all her possible ways to contact Tracy. (One time in the 50s, Vitamin Flintheart was extorted by T.V. Wiggles, who threatened to harm Sparkle Plenty if demands weren’t met. But Vitamin disguised himself as a cleaning lady, and walked right into Police HQ.) Today, she has access to cell phone technology. Call Dick Tracy!
Look at the emphasis on the word “are” – what? You’ve never seen a movie or TV show where someone has multiple encounters with a stranger, and finally asks “Who are you?” out of frustration? Sure she’s seen him before, but she doesn’t know what his deal is, so to speak. And now, having seen him at the warehouse, he shows up at her door in the middle of the night. So she exclaims “Who are you?” The phrase carries much more meaning than the actual words. “Who are you in relationship to me and mine? What on earth do you want?”
Why in the world don’t those idiot “spies” get out of those ridiculous costumes, now that they know Annie knows they are not just toys? They look so silly running around like that, especially the little guy with his cigar. And the costumes would certainly impede their movement.
Forget about the “uphill both ways” shtick, but there really was a monster blizzard in 1978 in Northeast Ohio. A trucker got stuck on I 271, and buried in his cab for a couple of days. He survived by eating snow until he was rescued. I almost got stuck near him on a freeway that suddenly filled up with so much snow you couldn’t move. A couple of us turned our flashers on and drove back the wrong way until we could reach an exit.