Page 143 - Brokenclaw - John Gardner

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expert. The various colourings showed clearly that this was no ordinary house,

for the various strata of different temperatures picked out the long, symmetrical
underground areas.
‘They’ve got a whole, well-organised bunker down there,’ Grant said,
running his finger along the pink and r
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‘And on the blow-ups you can see they have an exit near this dog pound
thing.’ Tanner circled the area south of the copse which they had already
realised was a cleverly camouflaged helicopter pad.
They found another exit to the north, between two rocky mounds.

‘What’s the drill on getting a full-scale raid on this place underway?’ M’s
face had taken on the colour of granite.
‘We can risk an unofficial assault, using only my people.’ Grant’s brow
furrowed. ‘But it’d be easier to make it a Special Forces deal.’
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‘You think Comrade Lee’s got the Naval people down there as well as Bond
and the girl?’ M’s eyes did not leave the various photographs spread out on the
desk.
‘There’s room here for some kind of security area, and the heat signatures

look like five, maybe six, people.’ Grant again traced his finger round the
underground area. ‘Or this one here, though I don’t understand it. If the heat
signatures – the red dots – are correct, there seem to be around thirty or forty
people, plus a lot of electronic . . . Oh, God!’

‘Yes?’ M answered abruptly.
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‘Jericho!’ Grant spat out. ‘We know the Chinese have this harebrained
scheme based on the Japanese report.’
Franks craned forward. ‘They can’t possibly have that in place and ready to

start up. There’s not been time.’
‘There’s been time if the Chinese were working along similar lines long
before the Japs.’ Grant sounded concerned. ‘I think we should go in. I’m going
to get a Presidential instruction if necessary, though we can probably do it

through the local cops. They have a Marine Special Forces fast reaction team
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in training over at Alameda. Let me get the business going.’ He turned towards
the bank of telephones just as the red instrument began to cry its long series of
single chirps.

This was M’s contact phone. He grabbed it and said, ‘Curve One . . . Yes,
where?’ Putting his hand over the mouthpiece, he quickly shot back at the
others, ‘It’s Bond. He’s at the bank.’

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