Raymond Benson - Doubleshot

“Don’t you think the king will have you stopped?”

“He hasn’t made a sound yet,” Espada noted. “They’re all afraid of me in Madrid. They’re scared that I might actually run for office and win.”

“We have company,” she interrupted, gesturing to the dock. Espada squinted and saw his prize matador, standing near the boat.

Javier Rojo was tanned, muscular, and nearly six feet tall. His long black hair was combed back behind his ears and flowed down around the back of his neck. Margareta, like most warm-blooded women in Spain, found him very attractive. At twenty-six, the older of the two Rojo brothers, Javier was easily the most dynamic and charismatic in the bullring. Now, however, he was staring at Espada with hatred in his eyes.

“ Hola, Javier,” Espada called. “Come aboard and join us!”

Rojo hesitated, but then stepped over the railing and jumped onto the deck. He strode over to Espada and stood before him.

“How are you, Javier? You know Margareta, don’t you?” Espada asked. “Have a drink.”

“I didn’t come to drink with you, Domingo,” Rojo said. “I have come to ask you something.”

“What is it, mi amigo? ”

“My brother. Did you have him killed?”

Espada made a show of pain. “Mother of God, Javier, you can’t possibly ask me that. Do you really believe I would do such a thing? I loved Roberto as much as I love you. He was such a promising young matador. Did your mother receive the flowers and the money I sent?”

“Yes, she did, and she thanks you. But Domingo …” Javier said, narrowing his eyes. “The talk is that Roberto did something to displease you. What was it? The police are baffled by the murder. Who was that girl he was with? I think you know something and are not telling me.”

Espada looked at Margareta and shook his head. She continued to look at the young man, admiring his build.

“Can you hear this, Margareta?” Espada asked. “He is accusing his manager of murder. I am like an uncle to him.”

“He’s upset, Domingo,” Margareta said, stone-faced. “Surely you understand that.”

Espada acknowledged this with a nod of his head. He turned back to Rojo and said, “Please, Javier, sit and have a drink. I share your sorrow, believe me. I promise you on the soul of Pedro Romero that I had nothing to do with your brother’s death.”

Javier blushed and relaxed a little at the mention of the famous bullfighter. “I’m … I’m sorry, Domingo,” he said, now feeling foolish. “You’re right, I am upset. It’s just that no one seems to know what really happened.”

“Sit down, have a drink, Javier,” Margareta repeated.

“No, thank you,” the matador answered. “I must go and rest. I am fighting tomorrow, remember?”

“Of course I know that,” Espada said. “And that is precisely the thing to get your mind off of this terrible tragedy.”

Javier turned to leave, but stopped and looked back. “If I ever find out who was responsible for this,” he said, “I will kill him with my bare hands.”

With that, he jumped off the boat, walked down the wharf, and disappeared.

Espada looked at Margareta and rolled his eyes, Agustin had woken during the exchange and was applying suntan lotion on his shoulders.

“We’ll have to be careful about him,” Espada said. “I don’t want him flying off the handle.”

“I thought you came out here to get away from business, Domingo,” Margareta said a half-hour later. “Look who’s here now.”

Espada looked up and saw Nadir Yassasin standing on the dock.

“Permission to come aboard, sir?” Yassasin asked.

Espada waved him on, and the man climbed over the rail and took a seat on the deck. Agustin sat up in his chair, alert and ready to serve his master.

“Get yourself a drink,” Espada said, gesturing to the bar.

Yassasin poured a glass of sparkling water from a bottle that was sitting in a bucket of ice.

“Everything will fall into place tomorrow night after your rally and bullfight, Domingo. The plan has succeeded beyond my wildest dreams. Each step has proceeded exactly as I predicted. Tomorrow night at dinner you will meet the assassin we have chosen.”

“How do I know he’s any good?”

Yassasin smiled. “Because he’s an ex-British SIS agent. He’s now a member of the Union.”

“Who is it?”

Yassasin pulled a photograph out of his jacket pocket, and handed it to Espada.

“His name is James Bond,” Yassasin said. “He’s a very formidable killer. He will be one of your bodyguards at the summit meeting on Monday. That’s how we get him inside the Convent.”

“He’ll do this for me? Betray his country?”

“It is inevitable, señor, ” Yassasin said, slightly bowing. “Jimmy Powers has been on his tail for the past several days, reporting his movements to me. He should be arriving in Marbella later today.”

“If this guy is as good as you say, he’ll spot the tail,” Espada said.

“No one spots Jimmy Powers,” Yassasin said. “You know that.”

Espada shrugged, unconvinced. “What else?”

“The Union has put together a force of new recruits—a thousand men from North Africa. They will unite with your men at La Linea as of tomorrow morning. We’re counting on you to recruit at least one thousand men tomorrow at the rally. If that happens, combined with the number you already have, you will be four thousand men strong.”

“That’s incredible!”

“Now. The meeting. The British Prime Minister is coming, as well as several United Nations delegates. Of course you are allowed to bring as many people with you to Gibraltar as you wish, but only three bodyguards or assistants may accompany you into the banqueting hall of the Convent, where the talks will take place. One of those will be Mr. Bond, who will use an alias, of course.”

“Agustin will be my lieutenant,” Espada said. “Margareta will also accompany us.” He turned to Agustin. “Make the necessary arrangements when we get back to the ranch.”

Agustin nodded in compliance.

“That’s what we thought you would say. Mr. Powers and myself—we have secured false documentation as U.S. State Department officials. I am a Moroccan citizen working in America. We will be there to make sure everything goes smoothly. In essence, Jimmy Powers will be there to protect you if things get out of hand.”

“What about weapons?”

“Powers will be going to Gibraltar tomorrow to make those arrangements. Everything will be in place before Monday.”

Espada was impressed. “It sounds as if you have everything under control. I feel so helpless. It’s a disconcerting feeling, but I suppose I must commend you.”

Yassasin produced a rare smile and lifted his glass. “Well then. Here’s to our continued success. I have no doubt that when you take over as the new Governor of Gibraltar, the government of Spain will have no choice but to acknowledge your power as a political leader.”

“Detective Inspector Howard is here, ma’am,” Moneypenny said into the intercom. The green light above the door illuminated. “You can go on through, inspector,” she told him.

Detective Inspector Howard found M with Bill Tanner. She was sitting behind her desk, and he stood alongside her like a sentinel.

“Sit down, Inspector,” M said. “Can we get anything for you?”

“No, thank you, ma’am,” Howard said. “I’m sorry to disturb you on a Saturday.”

“That’s all right, we were here anyway.”

“Yes. Well, I’m afraid I have some rather serious news.”

“I gathered that from your telephone call. What do you have to tell us?”

“It’s your man, Bond. He killed Dr. Feare. The forensic evidence is irrefutable. We found his blood at the scene, buttons from his shirt, hair.… I’m afraid we have to find him, and find him quickly. He’s going to be charged.”