John Gardner - Brokenclaw

‘Okay, I want to be certain neither of you even try to get into the bank with me. If you do try, then I fear your master is going to be extremely angry. There might even be broken heads. It’s essential you don’t show yourselves, so I think I’ll walk and you can follow me in the car.’

Ding and Pu looked at each other, and then at Bond.

‘Suggest you get in car.’ Ding pushed hard against Bond who had to turn his body slightly to avoid the Chinese coming in contact with his back and therefore feeling the hard lump of the pistol.

‘I warn you, if you make any mistake, it will not go well for you. Particularly if I do not return with the money.’

Ding nodded his understanding. ‘We watch, that is all. Now, where you wish go?’

‘You drop me off at Beach and Hyde, near the Cannery. And, even if the cops try to move you on, you stay parked on Beach. Got it?’

‘Not going to financial district?’ Pu chimed in.

‘No, there’s a small bank very close to Beach on Hyde. If you stay at the corner on Beach, you’ll see me go in and you’ll be ready when I come out.’ Bond wondered if his instructions would allow him to come out at all. ‘This is a small private bank. Understand?’

Ding shrugged then spoke rapidly to Pu. Bond climbed into the car and they drove slowly up to Beach Street, pulling in exactly where he directed them.

‘How long?’ Ding asked.

‘Fifteen minutes at the most,’ Bond lied.

‘If you not out fifteen minutes, then we come.’

‘You come, and you’re dead,’ Bond spat, climbing from the car, slamming the door on a fuming Ding and marching off up Hyde Street, crossing the road and heading for the small branch of the Sino-Republican Bank which had only set up for business during the past forty-eight hours and where three of Grant’s men waited for him.

The office was obviously closed for a complete interior overhaul and refurbishing. He pressed the security buzzer.

A tinny voice said, ‘Who goes?’

‘Custodian.’

The lock buzzer sounded and Bond pushed the door open.

The front area was quite bare, but one of the CIA men stood in a doorway at the back leading to a very ordinary-looking utilitarian office.

‘The phone’s over there.’ The welcoming party remained very low-key, the one man staying by the door while the other two sat watching silently as Bond came in and went straight to the phone.

Before picking up the instrument he told them the bank draft was to be made out to Black & Black, Inc. One of them nodded and began to work while the other started tapping at the keys of a computer. ‘And much good will it do the noble house of Black & Black,’ the computer operator muttered. ‘I’ve got it here. Hong Kong based, subsidiary of Trivex which is in turn owned by Cummings Technology and I can’t figure out who owns them.’

As the computer man spoke, Bond tapped in the number that would get him directly to M. The distant end purred twice, then M was on the line, ‘ Curve One.’

‘Custodian, sir.’

‘Yes, where?’

‘At the bank. Checklist’s still with our friend. You want directions?’

‘No. We know where you are.’

‘Where?’ Bond was near to that operational point where he questioned the facts and trusted nobody, not even his old chief.

‘The house is five miles or so off the PCH, hemmed in by rock, a massive bunker running under the ground from the house, both north and south.’

‘How? How do you know that?’

‘Rushia picked up your homers from a chopper.’

‘Right, sir.’

‘We’re getting together an assault team. One moment . . .’ M was obviously being spoken to by some other person. Bond assumed it was either Grant, Franks or Tanner. Then M said, ‘Can you give us details of numbers inside?’

‘I have only seen a few people close to Lee, sir. But there are forty or so technicians in the Jericho laboratory, as they call it. Jericho ’s on, sir. There’s nothing vague about it. They have it all set up.’

‘Good luck to them.’ M seemed hardly ruffled. ‘There seems to be quite a gaggle of people in the northern wing.’ M paused once more for someone else to ask him a question. Bond thought he detected Grant’s voice. ‘We believe they’re holding the kidnapped personnel there. No idea of firepower?’

‘None, sir.’

‘We also need to know the strength of the exits – the one close to the trees and the other one at the far end, the northern end.’

‘The first thing is, do not , repeat not , attempt to enter the house itself. You’ve obviously pinpointed the exits from the underground sections.’

‘We did a low fly recce. Pictures here, infra-red, the full business. Now what about those exits?’

‘I’ve only been out through the southern one, sir.’ Bond told him exactly what to expect and where the tunnels went, including the Jericho laboratory. ‘If the other entrance is the same, a pair of well-organised charges should take them out; I have no idea of firepower, but the copse is a camouflaged helicopter hangar. They’re waiting to take me back as soon as I get the draft.’

M was silent for a second, and Bond caught the sound of someone else talking. ‘There’s another thing,’ the chief was back on the line, ‘a kind of dog pen. Wired off area south of the copse?’

‘It’s probably the wolf pen. Our man keeps a small pack of wolves there; uses them for killing purposes. I have to go, sir.’

‘You’re not to go back.’ The order was as crisp as if the old admiral had given it during a battle at sea.

‘If I don’t go back, Lord knows what they’ll do to Checklist, sir. I have to go back.’

‘We’ll have a Special Forces assault set up for late afternoon, maybe sooner. You’ll obey my orders and come straight out to the carrier. There’s a car heading for the other side of Ghirardelli Square now. It’ll pick you up and bring you back here so that you can make it in with the assault team.’

‘With respect, it’s a terrible risk, sir. You should also know that they’re expecting General Hung Chow H’ang in person, tonight. He’s going to oversee the Jericho business. They are all set up for it – another reason I should go back.’

There was a long sigh at the other end of the line. Then M replied, ‘Take the draft in case of trouble, but make it out through the back of the building you’re in now. Go through into Ghirardelli Square and meet the car on the far side. Go straight through under the Indian restaurant and out on to Polk Street. Ten minutes. Move, Custodian!’

‘Sir,’ Bond acknowledged unhappily, ‘there is another thing you should know,’ he added quickly. ‘They’re holding the girl, Wanda, somewhere in Sausalito, and they’ve killed her father, Tony. They threw him to the wolves.’

‘Got it. Now move! Out! Now!’

‘Sir.’ As he cradled the telephone, Bond knew he would be leaving Chi-Chi to almost certain death.

‘I have to take the draft, but it’s a just-in-case deal.’ The agent who had been working on the bank draft handed him an envelope, and Bond had the good sense to remove the little package of notes exchanged between Chi-Chi and himself during their Black Magic analysis. ‘Shred those,’ he ordered, ‘and tell me how I get out of the back of this place and into Ghirardelli Square.’

The agent at the door did not move and the one working the computer was still tapping away, muttering that it would take an army of accountants to unravel Black & Black. The agent who had given him the bank draft inclined his head to a small door on the other side of the room. ‘Through there, along the passage and out the back door. That’ll take you to Larkin Street. Cross the road and go into Ghirardelli through the entrance between the Clock Tower and Sharper Image.’