“Maybe some terrorist—?” Aziraphale began. “Not one of ours,” said Crowley. “Or ours,” said Aziraphale. “Although ours are freedom fighters, of course.” “I’ll tell you what,” said Crowley, scorching rubber on the Tadfield bypass. “Cards on the table time. I’ll tell you ours if you tell me yours.” “All right. You first.” “Oh, no. You first.” “But you’re a demon.” “Yes, but a demon of my word, I should hope.” Aziraphale named five political leaders. Crowley named six. Three names appeared on both lists. “See?” said Crowley. “It’s just like I’ve always said. They’re cunning buggers, humans. You
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