Page 32 - Brokenclaw - John Gardner

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usually deal with people in here,’ Nolan said, as though indicating that Bond

was causing them unnecessary work and disrupting normal routine.
He heard the heavy clunk of the key in the lock, but did not even try to
protest. He did not understand what was going on or why. The only thing plain
James Bond OO7 - printing disabledwas the fact that one of their colleagues was dead and he had stood James Bond OO7 - printing disabled
and simple
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watching while the man met his end. In their place, Bond thought he might feel
the same, but he had not bargained on the hostility which came off all the FBI
men like static on a dry cold day. There must be something else, but it was best
to wait. Wait and find out what the whole damned business was about. After all

these men were accredited law enforcement agents, and he was in their
country.
He sat down on the small cot which took up almost one wall of the cell and
tried to think it through. He had been officially under FBI surveillance. His tail
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had been killed and he had watched the killing. But, he told himself for the
hundredth time, there was more to it than just treating him like a coward for not
going to Agent Malloney’s assistance, something deeper, something more
disturbing.

Agent Wood came down about an hour later with a polystyrene box
containing a dry-looking hamburger, fries, a plastic capsule of tomato sauce
and a disposable receptacle containing what could well have been coffee.
He sipped at the muck, chewed on a couple of the fries, which were cold,

and left the hamburger untouched. This was a country which appeared to be in
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the grip of a gigantic health kick – magazines telling you that your body was a
machine which had to be cared for, advertisements, public broadcasts and TV
commercials, all telling you to watch your cholesterol, watch your weight,

look out for your blood pressure, eat wisely and fill your intestines with fibre
– yet their fast food joints did a roaring trade in junk food. He could not even
bear to let this stuff past his teeth. Cynically, he thought the world had gone
crazy. For instance, they were happy about heading for a smoking-free society,

yet doing little about the thousands of alcohol-related deaths in the home, on
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the roads and in hospitals. The anti-smoking lobby appeared to gratify that
other guilt which knew little headway was being made against drug abuse.
The afternoon went by in intense boredom. He was not worried about any

legal repercussions, but the big question mark remained over his current status.
His mind made lazy circles around the enigma in which he found himself. He
could not figure out the mystery surrounding Lee. No sense, or sudden

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