Page 66 - Brokenclaw - John Gardner

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some woods just outside Victoria, and that would suggest that we must now

move with some haste.’
‘I must move quickly anyway, sir.’ Wanda pushed her chair back from the
table. ‘Big Leu’s supposed to be picking me up at midnight.’
‘I’m intrigued.’ Bond put out a
James Bond OO7 - printing disabled James Bond OO7 - printing disabled hand to restrain her. ‘Intrigued that friend James Bond OO7 - printing disabled
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Brokenclaw, if he really is such a monster, let you return, while he keeps the
other people from Lords and Lords Day prisoners.’
Wanda smiled at him. ‘I didn’t think I stood a chance of getting away,
especially after that first night. I should tell you, Captain Bond, that his

reputation regarding sexual appetite is quite wrong.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, he’s more insatiable than any speculation could begin to intimate. But,
at the moment, I appear to satisfy him, though none of us know how long that
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will go on. The few people close to him – the very few he trusts – have made it
very clear that he soon tires of one woman.’ She spoke without any hint of
coyness or self-consciousness, but with the quiet voice of a proficient agent
giving facts to interrogators.

‘Then I take it he trusts you.’ Bond’s voice in no way suggested that he did
not believe her.
‘Not completely. But we’re getting there. For the first five days I was not
even allowed to leave the suite of rooms we both used. But after that he

relaxed a little. I was allowed to use some of the other rooms, though never
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areas with windows. I also met his closest people. He has quite a set-up
wherever it is. I come and go blindfolded, and we’ve got one or two ideas as
to location, but it’s always cloak and dagger. I only had to keep my wits about

me, and before I left on that first occasion, we came to an arrangement . . .’
‘We provide her with good chickenfeed,’ Rushia chimed in. ‘It’s all category
four stuff, and keeps him happy.’
‘Now, I really must go, if you’ll all excuse me.’ Wanda stood to attention

facing M, who, Bond noted with a wry smile, did not look her in the eyes.
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‘Yes. Yes. Carry on, Ms er . . . Carry on.’
‘So what magic information has she wheedled out of our man?’ Bond asked,
with little conviction, once Wanda Man Song Hing had left the cabin.

‘Y’don’t trust our little Wanda, do you, James?’ from Rushia, stone-faced in
a manner that made Bond very uncomfortable.
‘It’s not that I don’t trust her, it’s the facts of life. Sexpionage, as the tabloids

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