Page 35 - Brokenclaw - John Gardner

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holding it back so that both M and Bond could enter, then closing it behind

them.
‘Alone at last, eh, 007?’ M’s voice had a slightly jaunty air to it. They were
in a large day cabin, the kind, Bond thought, that would be occupied by a
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Naval Task
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chairs set around for conferences. The US President’s framed photograph hung
over the desk which was completely clear except for a bank of telephones and
a small, neat, pile of files.
M strode across the cabin, taking the seat behind the desk as though this was

his rightful place. Bond opened his mouth, about to pour out a list of genuine
grievances, but M held up his right hand as though staving off a blow. ‘Just sit
down, James. Sit down and listen to me before you even try and fire a
broadside. Things are not what they appear to be.’
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Bond swallowed his pride and sat, his head cocked to one side, chin lifted
arrogantly.
‘You say that I owe you an explanation, and maybe I do,’ M began, ‘but I
think you’ll find the boot might be on the other foot. First, you are under the

impression that I tried to lure you to this part of the globe on the pretext of
sending you on leave when I really wanted to involve you in some operation,
right?’
Bond nodded. ‘Absolutely right, sir. And if I . . .’

‘Wait!’ M barked. ‘Just sit quietly and wait, 007. You’re too fond of flying
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off the handle at the least suspicion. I am sorry that your leave has been
curtailed because you are still very obviously in need of a rest and change of
scene, but we’re into something far more important now.’

He shifted in the black leather chair, taking out his pipe and tossing a
tobacco pouch on to the desktop. ‘Let me say now that I wanted you to get a
good rest – a change of scene and a change of pace. Yes, on the charge of trying
to lure you into this part of the world, I plead guilty, but I wanted you to get

your leave before slamming you into an operation here, in the United States.’
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He began to load his pipe, constantly glancing up at Bond as he spoke. ‘Events
overtook me. I had thought to give you fair warning and a good briefing. Before
you left London, I was pretty certain that you would end up working on this

side of the Atlantic and I’m sure you wouldn’t have relished two trips across
the fish pond. My whole aim was a genuine attempt to get you relaxed and
ready. Come to that, it backfired very badly – and that part is down to you.’

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