"Gotta...get...into...that...alley," Agent 919 said to herself. "No...footsteps...behind...me...yet...." That alley led to a maze of back streets where she'd be able to lose her pursuers. She'd use the usual pay phone to call her safe house. They'd bring her in, she'd hand over the microfilm, and they'd sew up the gunshot wound in her stomach. Another mission in the books.
She got to the alley, and then to the pay phone. She dropped in her coin, waited for the dial tone, dialed. Still no footsteps behind her.
"The number you have reached is no longer in service...."
And now there were footsteps. Agent 919 drew her gun....
I wonder what happens next! I used to really love spy fiction back in the day, and I keep wanting to revisit some of the books I enjoyed back then. I always got a kick out of Robert Ludlum's plots that gave new meaning to the word "labyrinthine".