Bond returned Brokenclaw’s smile and shook his head.
‘What a pity, James Bond. What a great pity, because when we have done what must be done, there will be no abbey in which you can hide. In fact, there will be little of you left. When you see what we have ready for you, then I think even you will change your mind.’ He leaned back into the passageway and snapped his fingers.
Two armed men, Chinese and wearing some kind of grey uniform, came into the little room.
‘Say your farewells, Peter Abelard. Say farewell to your Héloïse. I fear that if you remain stubborn, she’ll not see you again.’
‘James.’ Chi-Chi moved close to him. ‘Tell them. What can it cost now? Please tell them.’
Rising from the floor on which he had been lying, he took her in his arms. Holding her close, he whispered, urging her to try not to worry. ‘If I tell them, they’ll do away with both of us anyway.’ And with a last, close embrace he kissed the fragile-looking girl and turned to his captors.
There were more men than he had ever seen before in the long corridors and the main rooms. They all seemed to be armed, and many wore the grey uniform of the men who held him. He saw that some had badges of a claw riven in half on the breast pockets of their jackets. What was it M had said? ‘We’re getting together an assault team.’ Well, he had better be bloody quick about it, because friend Brokenclaw obviously had something original and unpleasant in store.
They hustled him along the passages and finally up the stairs at the southern end of the huge bunker to the exit through which he had been taken for the ride into San Francisco. Outside, near the tree-camouflaged hangar, more men worked clearing away the debris of the helicopter. He winced when he saw what remained. They had certainly bent that machine more than somewhat as Damon Runyon would have said.
As they passed the hangar, Bond knew without a doubt what they were about to do. The general walked with the aid of a cane, limping along next to the gigantic Brokenclaw. Bone Bender Ding was there also, his head bandaged, and he thought Frozen Stalk Pu was one of the others, mostly uniformed.
Finally they reached the place. At one end, on a hard standing, there was a large, low, oblong building. Running from this building was an area of around thirty feet, fenced in with heavy chain-link secured at regular intervals to high concrete poles.
As they walked the length of the chain-link fence, Bond glanced back. The oblong building was a cage. Strong iron bars ran the length of the structure on the enclosure end, and inside he caught his first sight of the wolves.
Seven of them, Brokenclaw had said, and he could well believe it, as he saw the creatures padding to and fro within the cage, restless, as though sniffing the air for food.
They reached the far end of the enclosure and Brokenclaw brought the party to a halt.
‘You are certain, Captain Bond, that you will not relent? My wolves have yet to be fed today. It will be unpleasant to be unmanned by them. But I suppose what will follow may not be too bad. After the exquisite pain, the ripping of your most private self, you’ll long for them to finish the job.’
‘Let’s get on with it, shall we?’ Bond was determined that if this was to be his end, then he would meet it in as dignified a manner as possible. He remembered an old instructor saying to him, ‘Bond, always remember you are a gentleman. So, live like a gentleman and for God’s sake die like a gentleman.’
Brokenclaw gave a sharp order and two of the other uniformed men helped the pair of guards to strip Bond until he was standing completely naked. It was only then that Brokenclaw approached him. Frozen Stalk Pu was with him, carrying a small bucket.
Brokenclaw gestured towards the bucket. ‘A particularly pleasant animal fat,’ he explained. ‘My pets are very partial to this nourishment. It’s a gourmet meal for them. In fact anything daubed with this stuff becomes a delicious treat.’ As he spoke, he pulled on a pair of surgical gloves. Then he plunged his hands into the bucket, bringing out a large glutinous lump which he began to smear around Bond’s loins.
‘I’m sorry if the smell offends you, Bond, but my pets like their treat. There, I think that’s enough. You are certain you don’t wish to tell us what we want to know?’
‘Quite determined, thank you. In fact, all I’ll say is that it’s been very unpleasant knowing you.’
‘Thank you.’ Brokenclaw made it sound as though he had been paid a great compliment. ‘I should tell you that at any time before you lose consciousness, if you change your mind we can call them off. They obey me very well considering they are creatures of the wild.’ He turned to the guards and nodded.
There was a small gateway set in the chain-link fence at the far end of the enclosure through which he was pushed.
They took him to within ten feet of the cage, and he could see the wolves getting excited. Some appeared to be slavering. One barked, expectantly.
Four stakes had been firmly driven into the ground and Bond was pushed down, his back against the earth, between the stakes. He felt his wrists and ankles being secured, he thought with strong leather thongs, which were in turn affixed to the stakes. His body was now spreadeagled, the thongs pulled tight, on the ground directly in front of the cage. He could smell the fat which was smeared on his body and hear the wolves start to growl as they became more excited.
‘This is your last opportunity, Captain Bond. You’re sure we cannot make you change your mind?’
‘Go to hell where you belong, Brokenclaw Lee, son of a Chinese tailor and a Blackfoot whore,’ he shouted.
For a second, he had the pleasure of hearing Brokenclaw lose his composure and shout in outrage – ‘Kill!’
There was a rattling noise and, lifting his head, Bond saw a section of the cage slide upwards.
Then the wolves came bounding and howling into the arena.
16
AWESOME
Commander Edwin Rushia, United States Navy, had done many strange and dangerous things in his time, but never anything like this.
‘It’s just on the off chance,’ M had told him.
‘If they did it to Wanda’s father, they could just as well do it to Bond,’ Bill Tanner said. ‘Mind you, with all the delays, we could be too late anyway.’
But he was not too late. They had kitted him out in camouflaged fatigues and given him an M40A1, the Marines’ sniper’s rifle complete with long-range sights. This last was only handed over after he had assured them of his skill with weapons.
Grant had questioned him thoroughly on this point. ‘If you’re not any good, you could be risking everything.’
Rushia, who was only a couple of years Grant’s senior, looked at him in a quiet, reflective manner before saying, ‘Son, when I was a kid in Jewel Junction, Iowa, I’d go hunting with my old Daddy. When I tell you I could take the eyes out of a rabbit at fifty yards, maybe you’ll believe me.’ So they also gave him a 9mm DA 140 automatic, a development of the famous Browning Highpower.
‘Feel like a guerrilla,’ Rushia commented.
‘You look like a gorilla,’ Bill Tanner drawled. He had come to like and respect this slow-speaking, humorous and intelligent man.
They had also provided a pair of small ultra-light binoculars and a compass.
Rushia gathered one or two things that were his own idea and stuffed them into a backpack, before being handed the main weapon.
When the doctor, whom Franks had dredged up from the depths of the ship, handed over the package, carefully wrapped in tinfoil, Rushia had taken hold of it gingerly as though it were a bomb.
‘For heaven’s sake, don’t let any humans near those,’ the doctor had said. ‘There’s enough chloral in them to put an army out for a couple of weeks. Better to overdo it than give standard doses. We don’t know the stamina of the beasts.’