Read the following passage and questions, then choose the right answer from options, the answer should be one of A, B, C, D.

<passage>:
she was out of the room, so I probed the contents of her purse, which because I had to catch the seven o'clock plane at San Francisco it amuses me. Sometimes. Not like this time on the plane. The woman beside me stirred, sat up suddenly and looked across me out the window. "Where are we?" she asked in a surprised voice. I told her I never did find my suitcase because I found the bomb first. The bomb was in a small bag—a woman's bag judging by the soft, flimsy things you'd never find in a man's—and I didn't know it was a bomb right away. I thought it was just a clock, one of those small, quiet alarms. I was going to pass it by and go on, but what held me alarm clock, this one had something like ten minutes to go. My mind was churning when I turned from the window to look around at the unconcerned passengers, the woman at my side asleep again. I thought: Which one of these.... No, none of them would know it was My heart was beating in jackhammer rhythm my mouth was dry and my mind was numb. Tell somebody about the bomb before it's too late! No, they'd think I put it there. Besides, what good would it do? There would be panic and they'd never get the plane down in time—if they believed me. "Sir." My head jerked around. The stewardess stood in the aisle, the cellophane. I couldn't bear to watch her. to close everything off—the throb of engines, the rush of air, the "You were moaning, it sounded like. And you kept moving your head back and forth." "Must have been dreaming," I said as I rang for the stewardess. When just coffee. I didn't tell her how much I needed it. I sat there clammy with sweat until she returned. Coffee never tasted so good. All right, so I had stopped the bomb's timer. My mind raced ahead to the landing. When they unloaded the luggage, the balance wheel would I considered telling the authorities as soon as we landed, or maybe calling in ahead, but wouldn't that just bring suspicion, questions. Maybe I could convince them I could stop a clock—but not before the bomb exploded. And then what? My secret would be out and my life would be changed. I'd be a man not to be trusted, a prying man, a man literally with gimlet eyes. "Were you really asleep that time?" "Not really," I said. I was tempted to tell the woman I was subject to had my suitcase to get, for one thing. The damned bomb was the other. carts. They weren't as careful as I would have been. It was impossible to tell from this distance just which bag contained the bomb There was a flurry of ticket matching, hands grabbing for suitcases, and a general exodus on the part of my fellow passengers, too fast to determine who had got the one with the bomb. Now all that was left was "Take it inside. Why?" over. "Cab?" I shook my head. "Just waiting." Just waiting for somebody to pick up a bomb. I lit another cigarette and glanced now and then toward the baggage I should be with a man named Amos Magaffey on Sixth Street at ten o'clock, discussing something very mundane, the matter of a printing order. But what could I do? If I left the airport, the attendant would eventually take the bag inside and there would be an explosion, and I wouldn't be able to But he moved on down the steps, nodded at the redcap, and started across the street to the parking area. I could have called to him, "Hey, officer, let me tell you about a bomb in a little red bag." But I didn't. I didn't because I caught a movement at the baggage claim counter out of the side of my eye. inside in time to see him enter through a side door and deposit the bag "No. I'm waiting for someone." "Do you have my suitcase?" glanced at me indifferently, and then started for the entrance with it. "Just a moment," I found myself saying, grabbing my bag and hurrying after her. At her side and a little ahead of her, I said, "Listen to me." telephone booth where it would be out of the way. She didn't move. She just said, "Why?" or anything else right now if it had. "I've got to talk to you. It's very important." The girl said, "Why?" I was beginning to think it was the only word she knew. At the same time I was wondering why anyone would want to kill someone so lovely. "I'll explain in a moment. Please stand right here while I make a telephone call." I moved toward the phone booth, paused and said, "And don't ask me why." She gave me a speculative look. I must not have seemed a complete idiot because she said, "All right, but—" I didn't listen for the rest. I went into the booth, closed the door, range it wasn't difficult to stop the balance wheel. Just the same, when I came out I was wringing wet. "Now will you please tell me what this is all about?" she said stiffly. "Gladly. Let me buy you a cup of coffee and I'll explain." Over coffee I explained it all to her, how I had this extrasensory ability, how she was the first person I had ever revealed it to, and how I had discovered what was in her overnight bag. During the telling, her untouched coffee grew a skin, her face grew pale, her eyes grew less curious and more troubled. There were tears there when I finished. I asked her who put the bomb in her bag. "Joe did," she said in a toneless voice, not looking at me any more but staring vacantly across the room. "Joe put it there." Behind her eyes she was reliving some recent scene. "Who is Joe?" must have put the—put it in there." I said gently, "Why would he want to do a thing like that?" I nodded. "As long as we don't move it." I told her I didn't know how much more time there was, that I'd been thinking it over and that the only way out seemed to be to tell the airport policeman. After I explained it to her, the girl—she said her name was Julia Claremont—agreed to tell him she thought there was a bomb in her bag, that she had noticed a ticking and had become worried because she knew she hadn't packed a clock. It wasn't good, but it would have to do. for a long while. "She was supposed to meet me, and when she wasn't here, I got worried. She said she isn't feeling well and asked me to take a cab." She smiled a little. It was a bright, cheery thing. I had the feeling it was all Julia's bag in his right hand, mine in his left. He seemed in no hurry. "Hey!" I shouted, starting toward him. The car was a hundred feet away and gathering speed by the time I reached where it had been parked. I watched it for a moment, then walked back to the entranceway where Julia was standing with the redcap, who said, "That man steal them suitcases?" "That he did," I said. The policeman was sympathetic and concerned. He said, "We'd better get over to the office." But we never left the spot because an explosion some blocks distant shattered the air. Julia's hand grasped my arm. Hard. We stood there. I could visualize the wreckage of an old gray coupe in the middle of a street, but I couldn't visualize the driver. That was all right. I didn't want to see him. I didn't know what Julia was thinking. She said, "About those bags," and looked at me.

<question>:
Why does the narrator make a phone call before explaining the bomb to Julia?

<options>:
A The narrator needs to call airport security so that they can evacuate the area before he explains the situation to Julia.
B The narrator needs to call the FBI and report the bomb before he explains the situation to Julia.
C The narrator fakes making a phone call so that he can focus on stopping the bomb again.
D The narrator needs to alert the bomb squad before he explains the situation to Julia.

<answer>:

C