Page 191 - Brokenclaw - John Gardner

James Bond OO7 - printing disabled James Bond OO7 - printing disabled James Bond OO7 - printing disabled James Bond OO7 - printing disabled James Bond OO7 - printing disabled

They came quietly enough, though they were all three carrying pistols. Both

of the former FBI men still had handcuffs on them. ‘Needn’t have brought them
after all, Ed,’ Bond said cheerfully as they cuffed all three men together, helped
them into the rear of the Range Rover and used the last set of cuffs to secure
James Bond OO7 - printing disabled of the metal framework. James Bond OO7 - printing disabled James Bond OO7 - printing disabled James Bond OO7 - printing disabled
them to part
James Bond OO7 - printing disabled
‘Commander Rushia’s going to take you boys down to the nearest cops.’ He
fiddled with the briefcase, which opened easily enough, the combination lock
having been used so often that the numbers almost fell into place by
themselves.

Inside was another set of the Lords and Lords Day documents, and when he
saw them, Bond realised his hands were trembling. ‘Take this lot, Ed, and burn
them the first chance you get.’
‘Okay, buddy. Good luck. I’ll be waiting for you.’
James Bond OO7 - printing disabled James Bond OO7 - printing disabled James Bond OO7 - printing disabled James Bond OO7 - printing disabled James Bond OO7 - printing disabled
‘I wouldn’t bother,’ one of the ex-FBI men growled. ‘He’s never coming out
of there alive. I can promise you that.’
‘You’d be surprised at the places Captain Bond’s come out of alive.’ As he
said it, Rushia thought he would possibly interrogate the boys on the way

down. He had picked up a wrinkle here and there. If James was going into a
certain death situation, it was better for ole Ed Rushia to be warned so he
could send in the cavalry.
Bond must have read his mind. ‘Ed,’ he said quietly, ‘only in the last resort.

Please promise me that. It has to be very bad. I must do this on my own.’
James Bond OO7 - printing disabled James Bond OO7 - printing disabled James Bond OO7 - printing disabled James Bond OO7 - printing disabled James Bond OO7 - printing disabled
Rushia nodded, raised a hand and started the Range Rover’s engine as Bond
slowly began his hike up the path which rose to lead him to his destiny.
He knew the real danger was only just starting, and after a mile, had that

uncanny feeling that there were several pairs of eyes on him.
Slowly, the path flattened out, and then, quite suddenly, he was at the end of
the treeline. The woods grew to the edge of an oval depression, about a mile
long and half-a-mile wide. Smoke rose from camp fires, teepees were sited

neatly in two long rows. At the furthest point, standing apart from the teepees,
James Bond OO7 - printing disabled James Bond OO7 - printing disabled James Bond OO7 - printing disabled James Bond OO7 - printing disabled James Bond OO7 - printing disabled
there was a large circular structure built of hides stretched over wood. It had a
high curved roof and a totem stood directly in front of it. The ceremonial
Lodge, Bond thought, bringing his eyes back down the lines of teepees. At the

end nearest to him was a tent taller and bigger than the rest. ‘Buck House,’ he
muttered to himself, stepping from the trees, his arms high over his head, his
pistol held by the barrel, to show that he came in peace.

James Bond OO7 - printing disabled James Bond OO7 - printing disabled James Bond OO7 - printing disabled James Bond OO7 - printing disabled James Bond OO7 - printing disabled