Page 152 - Brokenclaw - John Gardner

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Ghirardelli, an enterprising Italian merchant who came to San Francisco and

prospered in 1849. It is not unlike a smaller version of London’s Covent
Garden shopping area. Basically the mall is made of renovated old buildings,
the largest standing on the site of what had been a woollen mill during the
James Bond OO7 - printing disabledMost of the buildings are of red brick and were built in the early James Bond OO7 - printing disabled
Civil War.
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1900s to house Ghirardelli Chocolate Manufactory, some of the original vats
and ovens still being in operation. There are pleasant walks, a striking
ornamental fountain and several speciality shops, like Bears ’R Us, and a
Mickey Mouse store as well as a branch of the famous Sharper Image chain

which sells expensive executive toys and other items that people can easily
live without. In plain language, a lucrative business.
He crossed Larkin, dodging the traffic, and entered the square, walking
quickly round Fountain Plaza with its pond spraying jets of water into the air
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and the mermaid statue. In seconds he was heading rapidly towards West Plaza
which would take him nearer the furthest end and Polk Street.
‘Ai! Abelar! You stop, Abelar!’ It was Ding’s voice, shouting from behind.
Bond glanced back and saw the big Chinese moving through Fountain Plaza.

People were scattering, and as he reached for the ASP, two bullets ricocheted
from the brickwork to his right.
Dodging behind the nearest wall, round the side of the Woollen Mill
building, Bond took a deep breath. He held the automatic in the two-handed

grip, muzzle upwards, hands tucked into his right shoulder. Another breath and
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he swung out into the open again.
Ding was moving fast towards him, his gun raised, and as he saw Bond take
up a firing stance, he slid to a halt, lifting his hands to fire.

Bond had him cold, but at that moment his only desire was to cripple and
stop Ding. He fired twice, low, and saw the large Chinese jump sideways as
concrete splintered between his feet.
At least, Bond thought, it would hold him for a few seconds. Turning, he

weaved through the walkways, heading for the exit into Polk Street, praying
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M’s car had arrived by this time. As he reached the street, he saw that the
traffic had stalled. He glanced to left and right, deciding to make a run for it
away from the Beach Street front, but as he began to move, the words, ‘Stop!

FBI! Drop the weapon!’ came from nearby.
Though he was a set-up for the FBI, he knew this was at least his one way
out. A call from the FBI to the carrier would put him in the clear.

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