Page 156 - Brokenclaw - John Gardner

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a quick exchange between Ding and Pu, from which Bond gathered that Pu had

to return in the limo while Ding took his prisoner back to Brokenclaw.
Back in the helicopter Bond was pushed into the right hand seat with Ding
on his left directly behind the pilot. It was only when they were airborne that
James Bond OO7 - printing disabled was relaxed and Ding shouted, ‘Please do nothing stupid. I shall James Bond OO7 - printing disabled
the armlock
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kill you if necessary, but would rather present you with whole body to the
broken clawed one. Unerstan’?’
‘Unerstan’,’ Bond mimicked.
‘Good. You now enjoy the friendly skies, Ai?’

‘Ai.’ Bond was summing up the situation. His own automatic was within
easy reach, tucked into the right side of Ding’s considerable waistband, but the
Chinese had his own handgun, which looked like a nasty little snub-nosed S &
W Chief’s Special. It was an old but truly tried design and the .38 Special
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ammunition would blow a sizeable hole in anyone who got in its way.
Stay alert, he told himself. If the ride got bumpy there just might be a chance
to turn the tables on Ding and the pilot, who had appeared to take everything in
his stride.

They cleared the Bay area, and staying over the sea, followed the coastline
back past Monterey until they were at the turning point which would take them
low over the PCH and across the rock-encrusted area leading to the house.
Bond’s moment finally came as the helicopter went into a steep bank to the

left. Momentarily, Ding was tilted back sideways against the doorway, off
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balance for the wink of an eye. In that split second, Bond’s hand shot out and
pulled the ASP automatic from Ding’s waistband, bringing it back in a
ferocious chop down on the wrist of Ding’s gun hand.

Ding gave a sharp, angry cry of pain and his pistol fell to the floor of the
cabin. In an automatic reflex, Ding leaned forward, straining his arm down
towards the weapon. As he did so, Bond brought the ASP’s butt down hard on
the hoodlum’s neck.

For a second, as though nothing had happened, Ding turned his face towards
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Bond in an evil grimace.
‘You do not put Bone Bender Ding unconscious with the blow of a fly,’ he
said, still grinning as his eyes turned upwards and he collapsed in an untidy

heap of comatose flesh.
Bond now prodded the pilot in the back of his neck with the ASP. ‘Turn this
thing back,’ he shouted. ‘Just right back over the sea, or I swear to put a bullet

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