Finally, Javier faced the bull and dropped to his knees again. He called to the bull, daring it to charge a defenseless man on his knees.
“He is brave, that young man,” Margareta said.
At that moment, one of the banderilleros, the only one dressed in red, stepped out of the shield directly behind the bull, in Javier’s view. He stood there a moment, as if waiting for some kind of reaction from Javier.
Bond could see that something was wrong. Javier stood and, for a moment, he looked at the banderillero. He rubbed his eyes and appeared disoriented. The bull sensed the man’s hesitation and charged.
The crowd screamed as Javier was picked up by the bull’s horns and thrown over the animal’s back. Javier landed with a thud on the ground. The rest of the team ran toward him, shouting, attempting to attract the bull’s attention, but the animal wasn’t to be distracted. It turned and plunged its horns into the matador’s body. There were more screams from the spectators. Bond stood in alarm, clutching Javier’s hat.
The banderillero in red had disappeared.
The men brought out a stretcher and rolled Javier’s body onto it. The blood on his side was quite evident. In the meantime, one of the other matadors came out to finish the job. Taking a cape and sword, the new man stood in front of the bull and held the sword out in front, taking careful aim. Then, just as the bull charged, the matador lunged forward and thrust the sword into the bull’s back. It was a perfect kill. The crowd cheered wildly as the bull collapsed, the blood pouring out if its wound.
Bond began to move out of the stand. “I have to see about Javier,” he muttered to the woman.
She followed him down the stairs into the pasillo, where a number of people had already gathered to see about Javier Rojo’s condition.
Hedy stood and spoke into her mike. “He’s on the move, and that woman who was sitting with him is right behind him. Damn, he’s getting lost in the crowd.” She shoved her way out of the row and attempted to keep sight of Bond, but the swarm of spectators blocked her view.
Bond pushed through the crowd, running toward the enfermería, a fully equipped emergency room.
What the hell happened out there? Had he imagined it?
He got caught up in the mass of people, and suddenly Bond’s head started to spin and he felt pressure in his chest.
“Let me through!” he tried to shout, but no one could hear him.
Someone cried, “Javier Rojo is dead!” There were screams of despair from the crowd.
Bond’s vision blurred and he stumbled, but he felt a soft hand take his.
“Come with me,” Margareta said.
Bond let her lead him out of the crowd and into the chapel, often called the “place of fright,” because that’s where the matadors left their fear before entering the bullring.
Bond collapsed to his knees.
“You don’t look well, Mr. Bond,” Margareta said.
“Who … are … you?” Bond asked, but the words came out as gibberish.
Margareta walked around him and opened a side door. The banderillero in red entered the chapel and began to remove his costume.
Bond looked up through the hazy film in his eyes and attempted to focus on the man who had killed his friend.
“Murderer …” Bond gasped.
The vision became a little clearer.
The banderillero was the double—the man who looked like Bond! Javier had become fatally distracted when he saw his “friend” in the bullring!
Margareta slammed the butt of a pistol down on the back of Bond’s head.
Hedy made her way into the pasillo and frantically searched the faces of the crowd for James Bond. It was pandemonium, as the media had already descended into the area to find out more about Javier’s condition.
“Heidi, I’ve lost the bastard,” she said.
“Keep looking,” Heidi instructed. “I’m watching the street.”
Hedy was near the chapel when the door opened and the woman with the dark hair emerged. Hedy spotted her and watched as the woman directed a couple of men to follow her. They were carrying a stretcher, upon which lay a body covered by a sheet. Hedy moved forward, but then she saw James Bond come out of the chapel and bring up the rear of the little group.
Hedy followed them out of the pasillo toward the VIP parking area. There, the men loaded the stretcher into a red minivan. The woman got in the back with the stretcher, and James Bond took the passenger seat. In a moment, the van backed out of the parking space and was on its way.
“Damn!” Hedy said. “Heidi, get the car, quick!”
James Bond became aware of a low rumbling sound as he opened his eyes. He was on a stretcher in the back of a vehicle—a van perhaps? His wrists were bound behind him and his head felt as if it were on fire. Then he noticed that his clothes had been removed and exchanged for a white cotton shirt and dark trousers. Margareta Piel sat across from him with a Glock in her hand.
“Just stay calm, Mr. Bond,” she said. “We’re going to your meeting with Domingo Espada.”
Bond squinted and saw that another man was riding in the front with the driver. It might have been the banderillero, but a shaded barrier made it impossible to tell.
“Women who point guns at me usually regret it in the end,” Bond said.
“Is that a threat, Mr. Bond?” she asked.
“Just a warning.”
“You’re awfully handsome, Mr. Bond. I like dark men like you. You don’t have any Spanish blood, do you?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Pity.” She crossed her legs, inviting him to gaze at her.
Instead, Bond looked out the window and saw that the minivan had entered the motorway, heading west toward Marbella and the home of Domingo Espada.
TWENTY
THE MAN WHO CAME TO DINNER
THEY WERE SITTING IN THE BMW, WHICH THEY HAD PARKED NOT FAR FROM the bullring. Hedy was driving and the car screeched out of the parking space onto the main avenue.
“How far are they ahead?” Hedy asked.
“They’re pulling onto the expressway,” Heidi replied.
Hedy accelerated, shooting past the slower-moving vehicles. “I sure as hell hope he didn’t skip out on us.”
“I don’t think he would do that,” Heidi said.
“How do you know?”
“I think he likes us.”
Hedy snorted. “Then he’d better be hot on Espada’s tail.”
“It looks like they’re heading for Torremolinos … and Marbella is just beyond that. How much do you want to bet he’s headed for Espada’s ranch? You know, the ‘X’ on that map he had …”
“If we lose him, we’ll have hell to pay.”
They drove silently for a few minutes, and then Hedy asked, “You really think he likes us?”
Heidi turned to her sister and smiled. “Sure. Can’t you tell?”
Hedy shrugged. She had a mischievous look in her eyes. “I think he likes you. ”
“Isn’t that the same thing?”
“Heidi, we’re not going to get into another situation like that, are we?” Hedy asked.