Page 190 - Brokenclaw - John Gardner

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‘I guess I’m going to do the famous Rushia backup. Watch out for me,

James.’ Slowly the Trooper rolled in reverse, weaving a little until they had
moved about thirty yards back, and just around a bend which would hide them
from anyone approaching the Range Rover.
‘I don’t
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itching.
‘You don’t? Well, James, I came prepared for all eventualities.’ Ed jerked at
his waistband and drew out a massive Colt revolver with a six inch barrel.
‘.357 Magnum,’ he grinned happily. ‘This is my “Make my year” gun. I also

have accessories, like handcuffs. I was going to use them on your good self if I
came to the conclusion that you were going to do something really difficult . . .’
He let the sentence trail off at the sight of Bond’s eyes narrowing. ‘No, well,
perhaps not. Let’s get ready for these palookas and the famous General H’ang.’
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‘When we take them, I want you to drive them down to civilisation and turn
them in.’
‘Can’t I hang around and wait for you?’
‘I’d rather you had them in some lock-up. I’m not certain, but I think if they

were near me for any length of time, I might just kill all three.’
They moved quietly up the track. There was enough tree cover for Rushia to
sink down, hidden by the Range Rover, and Bond to find a nice covert on the
far side. From it, he had a view of the path snaking upwards through the trees

which, he knew, led to the camp and Brokenclaw.
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They waited for almost an hour before the sound of voices began to float
down from the track. Neither Wood, Nolan nor the general seemed to have the
slightest care in the world. As far as they were concerned, they were invisible.

Bond had a sudden nudge of anxiety lest Brokenclaw had sent some of his
people from the camp down with the ex-FBI men.
When they came into view, however, there were only three, moving slowly,
two of them keeping time for the general’s dot-and-carry-one limp. They let

them actually start to get into the Range Rover.
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‘I really wouldn’t try anything silly, like going for catapults or shouting
rape!’ It was Ed Rushia who broke the silence, and they all froze, for the long
barrel of the Colt was placed neatly in General H’ang’s ear. ‘I could deafen

him a mite,’ he continued. ‘Also my buddy just behind you, Wood – or Nolan –
whichever you are, has a strong conviction that you are all expendable.’
H’ang dropped the briefcase he had been holding.

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