Page 34 - Brokenclaw - John Gardner

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roughly handled up the ramp to the helicopter. A figure beckoned him from the

steps and the FBI men gave him a final push on his way. He thought he heard
Broderick say that his luggage was already aboard, but the words were lost on
the breeze and the wash from the rotors.
A crewm
James Bond OO7 - printing disabledan helped him aboard and showed him to a seat inside the dark James Bond OO7 - printing disabled
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body of the craft, shouting in his ear that he should fasten the seat belt. The
door slammed and the engines came up to fine pitch the moment he was inside.
He felt, more than saw, someone sitting in the next seat. Then the familiar
voice came loudly in his ear. ‘Only a couple of hours in San Francisco, Bond,

and already there’s mayhem. You even managed to get your own minder killed,’
M said. ‘Sometimes I think the Grim Reaper sits on your shoulder, 007. One
day he’ll catch up with you.’
The helicopter was airborne and tilting like a fairground ride, angling the
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lights of the city crazily below them.

The helicopter ride took them out over the bay towards the US Navy facility on
Treasure Island and down to the helicopter pad of a Nimitz class nuclear
aircraft carrier. Throughout the whole journey, which took less than ten

minutes, Bond said nothing to his old chief. Inside he seethed with anger. ‘Take
a rest; take a holiday . . .’ M had said. Now, Bond felt that he had been
betrayed. Certainly he had been set up, the hostility of the FBI men had not
been feigne
James Bond OO7 - printing disabledd, so somehow he had been used, and there could only be one James Bond OO7 - printing disabled
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manipulator – M himself.
As they touched down on the carrier’s deck, the deck lighting went off. The
door was opened and two shadowy figures helped him out of the helicopter,
leading him firmly towards the island – that unique superstructure which is the

hallmark of any carrier, though the island of Nimitz class aircraft carriers is
distinctively smaller than normal.
Once through the hatchway and into a brightly lit interior, Bond turned as M
followed him.
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‘I think you owe me some explanation, sir!’ His anger was barely concealed,
but M simply gave a tight little smile and indicated that he should follow the
uniformed yeoman who stood patiently waiting just inside the hatchway.
Bond gave an audible sigh and followed the yeoman along the maze of

companionways, and up metal stairways until they reached a wooden door set
into a bulkhead. The yeoman opened the door without pausing to knock,

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