Margareta eyed the man sitting next to her and struggled once again with the resolve to make herself known. The man was a killer. He was unpredictable. If she didn’t defuse the situation right now, there was no telling what kind of carnage might erupt.
A minute went by, and she finally decided to confront the assassin with what she suspected.
Now.
TWENTY - FIVE
FAENA
MARGARETA LEANED OVER AND WHISPERED IN THE ASSASSIN’S EAR. “ALL right, Mr. Bond, I know it’s you. You think I can’t tell the difference between you and Peredur Glyn in bed? You gave yourself away last night with the one area of your body that the doctor in Hollywood didn’t alter.”
Nadir Yassasin was looking at the two of them with a furrowed brow. Bond swallowed but remained stone-faced. He had to keep his cover or the entire operation would be blown.
“Now, here’s the deal,” she continued as he felt the gun barrel digging into his kidney. “You’re going to do exactly what you’re supposed to do. Kill the PM and the Governor, as planned. If you don’t do it, I’m going to shoot you in the back, and then my cohorts will do it anyway. My job here was to kill Peredur Glyn after the assassinations. Whether it’s you or him makes no difference to me. That’s my ticket out of here. I’ll be the hero. You will lose, no matter what, the PM will be dead, and the Union’s plan will succeed. This isn’t about Espada. This is between the Union and your pitiful country.”
She sat back in her chair. An avalanche of doubt fell on Bond and smothered him.
She knew! Was the plan ruined?
He suddenly felt his heart accelerate as a wave of panic enveloped him. The pounding in his head was excruciating. Masses of darkness clouded his vision.
No! he willed. I must not black out now!
The aide-de-camp remained in place by the open door. Activity could be heard in the corridor as the PM, the Governor, and their bodyguards approached. Two Gibraltar Regiment soldiers entered the room, armed and alert.
Bond clenched his fists and shut his eyes, struggling against the attack.
The operation could still work! Concentrate, damn it!
Espada looked at Bond in anticipation, but Yassasin could see that something was terribly wrong. He glanced at Powers, who was also narrowing his eyes at Bond and Margareta. He reached for his weapon, ready to draw it at a second’s notice.
Bond opened his eyes as a tall, distinguished gentleman with white hair entered the room—the Governor of Gibraltar. Right behind him was a man in a suit whom Bond recognized as 001. Their eyes found each other and they shared a quick and silent acknowledgment, even though 001 could see the pain in Bond’s eyes.
The British Prime Minister stepped into the room and stood beside 001. He was a short man with a bright face and charming smile. He virtually lit up the room.
The aide-de-camp announced, “His Excellency, the Governor of Gibraltar, and the Prime Minister of Great Britain.”
The door had remained open. Another figure entered the room and stood beside the Prime Minister.
She was one of the Taunt twins, dressed in a smart business suit.
Margareta, Yassasin, Espada, and Agustin gasped simultaneously.
Agent 001 shouted, “Everyone down!” and time suddenly seemed to stretch into a slow, dreamlike eternity.
In the first second, 001 pulled the Prime Minister to the floor. At the same time, the soldiers tackled the Governor. Some of the delegates began to scream. Powers drew his gun, not sure whom to shoot first.
During the next second, Bond slammed his upper body forward onto the table as he pulled the Walther from his waistband. This maneuver provided a clear view of Margareta Piel. Nadir Yassasin began to draw his weapon.
At the beginning of the third second, the veiled Arab woman sitting across the table from Bond swung her right arm out from under the caftan. She was holding a Heckler & Koch USP45. A single round caught Margareta in the chest and threw her backward.
Halfway through the same second, Bond, still leaning forward over the table, angled his body onto his right shoulder and shot Powers with one bullet through the man’s right temple. Powers fell against the State Department delegate, who shrieked in horror. By the end of the third second, some of the delegates jumped out of their seats and dived for the floor. The others were frozen in fear.
The fourth second. With a bloodcurdling scream, Margareta crashed through a stained-glass window and fell to the cloister below. Espada and Agustin, momentarily frozen by the sudden turn of events, jolted into action at the sound of the shattering window. Their guns were in hand, but Bond was faster. Bond swung his arm across the tabletop and shot Agustin in the forehead at point-blank range. Yassasin, his hand shaking, aimed his Browning at Bond.
Five seconds. Espada leveled his Super Star at Bond, but the Walther exploded first. The round caught Espada in the cheek and the man fell back in his chair. Yassasin’s gun erupted, but the bullet whizzed past Bond’s head and into the wall. The Taunt twin was immediately behind the strategist, a Beretta M93R poking the back of his head. She ordered Yassasin not to move. “Drop your weapon on the table,” she commanded.
Yassasin did so and slowly raised his hands, and time equivocally returned to its normal rate of duration. Only six seconds had elapsed since 001 had shouted the order to launch the operation.
Bond knelt beside Espada, who was choking and splattering blood all over the carpet.
“That was for the matadors,” Bond said through his teeth.
Espada’s eyes exhibited fear and hatred, but eventually they rolled up into his head as the choking ceased.
Bond finally stood and said, “It’s all over, everyone.” The waves of nausea and panic were subsiding. He had fought against them and had won.
The Taunt twin turned to the aide-de-camp and indicated Yassasin. “He’s all yours, sir.” The Regiment soldiers immediately handcuffed the Union strategist and frisked him. The Governor, the PM, and the other delegates were slowly rising to their feet and wiping their brows. Suddenly the room was full of chatter, tears, prayers, hugs, and relief.
Agent 001 gave Bond a thumbs-up. Bond nodded at him, then looked at the blonde.
“Nice work, Hedy,” Bond said. He turned to the Arab woman in the veil and whispered, “You too, Heidi.”
The debriefing took place in the Governor’s Drawing Room, where the day’s participants could relax in a friendly environment after the terror of the morning’s events. Present were the Governor, the British PM, the Spanish PM, 001, Hedy Taunt, and James Bond.
Hedy was attempting to explain how she escaped from Espada’s compound without blowing “Hillary’s” cover when the Spanish PM interrupted her. “Wait a second. I’m confused. I thought Double-O Seven was a captive. What happened to the double? How did you get off the property?”
Bond spoke up. “If I may? I’m not sure what happened during the fight with Peredur Glyn, but I had another one of the blackouts I have been experiencing. I continued to function, however, even though I have no memory of it. When I came to, the imposter was lying dead on the ground, strangled. I collected myself and went back to Espada’s house. I thought I might be able to fool anyone still there that I was Peredur Glyn. I succeeded, except for, er, one minor detail that eventually gave me away.”