Tanner nodded. “He’s been briefed and is all set to accompany the PM to Gibraltar. They leave early Monday morning.”
“Then you had better give him additional orders.”
“And they are?”
“If Double-O Seven really accompanies Espada to this meeting, then Double-O One should be prepared for anything. He is to keep close watch on Double-O Seven. If Double-O One determines that Bond is dangerous, he should respond appropriately.”
“Do you mean … ?”
“Yes, I mean,” M said. “If the need arises, Double-O Seven must be eliminated.”
ACT THREE
TERCIO DE LA MUERTE
EIGHTEEN
THE YOUNG MATADOR
“LOOK AT THAT MOUNTAIN!” HEIDI EXCLAIMED AS HEDY DROVE THE 1998 BMW 320i onto the so-called Golden Mile of five-star hotels and resorts in Marbella. Conch Mountain hovered over the city, a magnificent backdrop for the seaside resort.
“It’s a great town if you like golf,” Hedy commented. Among Marbella’s numerous golfing establishments was Europe’s only night course; it was floodlit so that golfers could play after dark.
Hedy pointed to a huge estate on their left and said, “The king of Saudi Arabia built all that.” Beyond expansive gardens was a sparkling white mosque and a mansion that was an exact replica of the White House in Washington, D.C. A large outline of a scimitar made of white stone was embedded in the grass.
“Wow,” Heidi said. “Pretty cool, huh, James?”
Bond was in the backseat, where he was happy to be. It was a pleasure not having to drive or constantly look over his shoulder for a change. It was nice not having to think for a few hours. They had picked up the BMW, apparently a CIA company car, in a discreet garage not far from Tarifa, at the most southern point of Spain. They had stored the boat and had driven up the coast, past Gibraltar, and on to Marbella. Bond couldn’t sleep because of the persistent throbbing in his head, but he was thankful for the rest, even though the twins talked about the scenery along the way. He took four of Dr. Feare’s pills in the hopes that the headache wouldn’t grow worse.
They drove past the restaurant owned by the famous Italian singer Tony Dalli, and Marbella’s hot discotheque, Olivia Valere, and soon pulled in to the entrance of the Marbella Club Hotel on Bulevar Principe Alfonso von Hohenlohe. One of the finest resort hotels on the beach, the Marbella Club offered everything from bungalows to simple rooms.
“Are you sure this guy is here?” Heidi asked Bond.
“When I phoned, he said to look for him on the beach,” Bond answered. “He likes to relax the day before a bullfight.”
“Yuck,” Hedy said. “I can’t imagine why anyone would want to watch a bullfight, much less participate in one.”
“Don’t be so quick to condemn it,” Bond said as they parked and got out of the car. “It’s an integral part of Spanish tradition and culture. It’s not a sport. It’s an art.”
“Yeah, right,” Hedy said. “Tell that to the bull.”
Bond decided not to argue. They checked in to the hotel, where the girls had reserved an exclusive bungalow with two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a shared living room, and an enclosed patio. They walked through the grounds, which were surrounded by lush foliage and palm trees. When they entered the bungalow, Heidi was ecstatic.
“Now this is the life!” she purred. “We need to get the company to send us on business trips more often.”
“We’ll take this one,” Hedy said, gesturing to the bedroom with twin beds. “You’re in the other one, Mr. Bond. Don’t try any funny stuff. We’re going to guard you in shifts tonight.”
Bond shook his head. “I keep telling you that you don’t need to guard me at all,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Whatever. Let’s go find your matador.”
“Since we’re going to the beach, can I put on my swimsuit?” Heidi asked.
“Jeez, Heidi,” Hedy said, rolling her eyes.
Ten minutes later, all three of them were dressed in beachwear. Bond was wearing a pair of navy shorts, a white polo shirt, sunglasses, and flip-flops. He had asked the girls for his gun, but Hedy refused to give it to him.
Heidi was wearing a yellow and white bikini that revealed just how shapely and athletic she really was. Her muscle tone was perfect and she had an hourglass figure. Hedy chose to wear a red and black bikini, and for the first time, Bond was able to tell them apart. Hedy had a small, sexy mole on her left breast, whereas Heidi had one to the right of her navel. Otherwise, their figures were exactly alike.
“Wait a second,” Hedy announced as they were ready to leave. “One of us should stay here. We have phone calls to make. And we probably shouldn’t be seen together if you’re meeting someone who’s close to Espada.”
Bond saw the logic in that. “So … who’s coming with me?”
“Do we have to flip for it?” Heidi asked her sister.
Hedy waved her hand. “You two go on. I’ll be the responsible one. I’ll get some sun on the patio while I make calls.”
So Bond and Heidi left her, strolled across the hotel grounds, through the beach club and shops, and onto the warm, soft sand. The Mediterranean was calm, creating a flat, blue horizon of serenity. The beach was populated with hotel guests lounging on recliners while staff fetched towels or drinks from the bar.
“Do you see him?” Heidi asked.
Bond peered up and down the beach, and finally spotted a tanned young man lying alone on a lounger some fifty yards away from the rest of the crowd. He was wearing swimming trunks and sunglasses.
“Hola,” Bond said as they approached. Javier Rojo turned his head and smiled. He immediately jumped off the lounger and removed his sunglasses.
“James Bond!” he said enthusiastically. “How are you, my friend?”
They shook hands and embraced.
“I’m fine, Javier, it’s good to see you,” Bond said. “I’m very sorry to hear about your brother.”
Javier lowered his head. “Thank you. I am trying to come to terms with it.”
“Any ideas on how it happened?”
The matador shook his head. “The police are clueless.”
Noting Javier’s unease, Bond quickly changed the subject. “Allow me to introduce you to … Hillary.”
Javier smiled warmly at the beautiful woman. “I should have known that you would be in such company! I’m very pleased to meet you, señorita. ”
Heidi was speechless. Javier was a superb specimen of a Latin male. He had large, round brown eyes and a wicked smile that could melt any woman’s reserve.
Javier held out his hand to Heidi and she took it gingerly, as if she were in a trance.
“Hi …” she muttered.
“Sit down,” Javier said, gesturing to some empty loungers nearby. “Pull them over here. I was trying to stay away from the crowd so no one would recognize me.”
Bond dragged the lounger next to Javier’s and they sat, facing the sea.
“Where have you traveled from?” Javier asked.
“We came from North Africa,” Bond said.
“Ah, that’s a different world over there,” Javier commented. “Nice place to visit, but I wouldn’t live there.”
“I do,” Heidi said.
“Oh? Do you enjoy it?”
“Sometimes,” she answered.
“So, James, how long has it been? Three years?” Javier asked.
“Something like that. Four perhaps?”
“I don’t know. The time, it is flying. Ever since I got my alternativa, the world has been spinning,” the handsome young man said.