When the girls went into the bedroom, Bond shut his eyes and tried to relax. They returned, and Hedy sat down in front of him. Heidi draped herself on the desk, one long leg bent like an inverted V.
“All right, James,” Heidi said. “We’re going to play it your way. But we’re going to have to clear it first.”
“You have to call your boss,” Hedy said. “You have to convince her. If she gives us the okay, then we’ll trust you on this one.”
“Give me the phone,” Bond said. He fought a wave of panic. Could he convince M that he was sane and not guilty of the crimes he was accused of? Would she allow him to continue this possibly aimless wild goose chase?
Hedy handed him a white phone. “It’s a secure line.”
Bond dialed the number and was put through to Bill Tanner.
“My God, James, are you all right?” The Chief-of-Staff sounded very alarmed.
“Yes, Bill.”
“I’m glad to hear that. We were very relieved a few minutes ago when we got the message that the CIA had found you. You have to come back, James. You know you do.”
“Bill, I didn’t do those things, and you know it.”
“I believe you. But …”
“No ‘buts,’ ” Bond said angrily. “You have to trust me. I’m on to something and must speak with M.”
“Certainly,” Tanner said. “I’m sure she’ll want a word.”
Bond waited a moment. He looked at the twins, who suddenly felt uncomfortable and exchanged glances, but didn’t bother to get up and give him some privacy.
“Double-O Seven.” The voice was hard.
“Ma’am.”
“Well? Are you on your way back to London with Agent Taunt?”
“Agent Taunt?” Bond asked.
“That’s what it says here, Double-O Seven, agent Hillary Taunt.”
“Are you listening, Bill?” Bond asked. He knew that Tanner monitored some of M’s phone calls when she gave him the order, and he was sure that this would be one of them.
“Yes,” came the voice, after a beat.
“I’m with … er, Miss Taunt, now,” Bond said. “If you insist on it, ma’am, yes, I will come back to London. However, I must ask that you hear me out first.”
“Very well.”
“I may have evidence that Domingo Espada is linked to the Union.”
That got her attention. “Go on.”
“I disobeyed your orders, ma’am; I freely admit that,” he said. It was one of the most difficult things he had ever confessed in his life. “But I had to go after the Union. If not for Britain, then I had to do it for myself. I swear to you that I’m not responsible for Dr. Feare’s murder, or the terrorist attack on the ferry. I identified and traced Helena Marksbury’s recruiter and killer to Casablanca and almost got into the Union’s main headquarters. The CIA here was on to them, too. The Union must have suspected discovery, so they left. Vanished.”
“What’s this about Espada?”
“The man I followed here had a map on his person with the location of Espada’s home marked on it. He also had a ticket to a political rally and bullfight at which Espada is speaking.”
“When is that?”
“The day after tomorrow.”
“Interesting,” M said. “The summit meeting in Gibraltar has been scheduled for the day after that.”
“Who’s going to this summit meeting?” Bond asked.
“The PM. Spain’s PM. Espada …” Tanner answered.
“Ma’am, all this is connected somehow,” Bond said. “I’m sure of it.”
“But you have nothing, Double-O Seven. What does a ticket tell you? Perhaps this man simply likes bullfighting.”
“Liked, ma’am,” Bond said. “He’s, uhm, no longer with us.”
“I see.”
“Why would he have a road map to Espada’s house? This man was Union! It either means that the Union is involved somehow with Espada, or that they are interested in him for some reason. Maybe someone has paid the Union to kill him! I think I should try to meet Domingo Espada before the summit meeting and see what I can determine.” He then presented M the same argument that he had given the twins—that he believed he was a cog in the Union’s plan. If he were taken out of it, something awful might happen.
“Agent Taunt … and I … would like your permission to pursue this,” he said.
M was silent. After a moment, she said, “Hold the line, Double-O Seven.”
Bond heard a click. She was conferring with Tanner, and probably the Minister of Defence.
She was back in three minutes. “Double-O Seven.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I’ve just spoken to my opposite number in the CIA. I should probably have cleared this with the PM, but I’m not going to. You are to stay in Agent Taunt’s company at all times. You are under house arrest, although you’ll be mobile. You are not to attempt to escape, do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You can go to Spain. I realize that you’re interested in this because you think it will bring you closer to the Union. Be that as it may, I think you might be on to something with regard to Espada. Providing you can get close to the man, you are to gather any information that you can that might link him to something as reprehensible as the Union. He’s already a controversial figure in Spain, but I think that would all but destroy the people’s confidence in him. It would give us more bargaining power. At the same time, we wouldn’t want any harm to come to him before the meeting in Gibraltar. It’s the most important thing on the government’s plate right now. We can’t have it jeopardized, but we can certainly have it slanted in our favor. Do we understand each other, Double-O Seven?”
“Clearly, ma’am.”
“Very well.”
“One more thing. One of the Union recruiters I tracked to Morocco—Michael Clayton—has a cousin in London who is connected to the Union. You might want to investigate that.”
“Noted. Now let me talk with Agent Taunt. Good luck.”
Bond thanked her and held the phone up for one of the twins to take. Hedy grabbed it and listened, occasionally replying, “Yes, ma’am.” Then she said, “I’ll call him right now. Thank you.”
She rang off and said, “I have to call my chief in the States.” She received the same instructions, and then she hung up and looked at Bond.
“Well. Looks like we’ll be spending more time together after all. Heidi, I think we should use the yacht to get up to Spain, what do you think?”
Heidi nodded. “That’s the safest. We can’t risk bringing him through Immigration anywhere.”
Hedy explained. “The Company has a boat in a hidden marina on the coast not far from Tangier. We can use it, but we’ll have to drive to Tangier.”
“Let’s go, then,” Bond said, standing.
“Oh boy!” Heidi cried, jumping up. “This is going to be fun!”
“Just watch it, pal,” Hedy told Bond. She patted the Browning 9mm at her side. “I’m pretty good with this. And we also carry extrastrength, high-powered OC pepper spray that will stun an elephant. So don’t try anything that would be considered conduct unbecoming of a gentleman.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Bond replied.
“Now go shower and get dressed,” Hedy ordered.
“Wow,” Heidi said. “I just thought of something.”
“What?” Hedy asked.
“That for the next couple of days we get to baby-sit a British Double-O agent who’s suspected of being a terrorist!”
“So?”
“It doesn’t get much cooler than that!”
SEVENTEEN
MOUNTING EVIDENCE
MARGARETA PIEL TOOK A SIP OF WHITE WINE, AND THEN STRETCHED LAZILY, providing the men on the dock a spectacular view of a superbly built, beautiful woman in a skimpy bikini.
“You have an audience,” Espada said, lighting a Havana cigar. He, too, was wearing swimming attire. Agustin was asleep on a recliner b
ehind them, dressed in bathing shorts and a T-shirt.
“I always have an audience.” Margareta sighed. “They just won’t leave me alone.”
They were on the deck of Espada’s yacht at Puerto Banús, the chic Marbella harbor where the rich and famous liked to be seen. He owned an American-made 70-foot Cheoy Lee MY, a high-tech luxury boat with extensive extras. Like many of the other boats in the harbor, it was registered in the tax-free paradise of the Cayman Islands. Espada had rarely used the yacht for sailing. Mostly, he simply liked to lounge about on the deck half-naked with half-naked females waiting on him. It was the one public place where he didn’t mind being a bit of an exhibitionist, and that was simply because he liked to show the other millionaires that docked at Puerto Banús who was on top. The area had become quite fashionable with Marbella’s rise in tourism. Consisting of long stretches of beach clubs, shops, restaurants, and bars, the harbor was always alive with people. Even now, at noon, a group of male tourists were standing at a bar on the other side of the dock, gawking at Margareta. By nightfall, Puerto Banús would be packed.
“Roberto Rojo’s death is causing quite a stir,” Margareta said casually. “Have you seen this morning’s paper?”
“No.”
“At least three prominent matadors have announced defection, claiming that you are mad.”
“Who are they?” Espada demanded.
She told him. Espada threw his drink at the edge of the dock, shattering the glass.
“They will turn public opinion against you,” she said. “You can’t afford that right now.”
“Would you shut up?” he snarled. “Who made you my spiritual adviser?”
Margareta laughed. “Oh relax, Domingo. I’m teasing you. We all know you’re unstoppable.”
“I will have those three taken care of,” he said. “Tomorrow night’s corrida in Málaga will solidify my position with the matadors. When the people see me in the ring with men like Javier Rojo, they will follow me to Gibraltar.”
“Don’t you think the king will have you stopped?”
“He hasn’t made a sound yet,” Espada noted. “They’re all afraid of me in Madrid. They’re scared that I might actually run for office and win.”
“We have company,” she interrupted, gesturing to the dock. Espada squinted and saw his prize matador, standing near the boat.
Javier Rojo was tanned, muscular, and nearly six feet tall. His long black hair was combed back behind his ears and flowed down around the back of his neck. Margareta, like most warm-blooded women in Spain, found him very attractive. At twenty-six, the older of the two Rojo brothers, Javier was easily the most dynamic and charismatic in the bullring. Now, however, he was staring at Espada with hatred in his eyes.
“Hola, Javier,” Espada called. “Come aboard and join us!”
Rojo hesitated, but then stepped over the railing and jumped onto the deck. He strode over to Espada and stood before him.
“How are you, Javier? You know Margareta, don’t you?” Espada asked. “Have a drink.”
“I didn’t come to drink with you, Domingo,” Rojo said. “I have come to ask you something.”
“What is it, mi amigo? ”
“My brother. Did you have him killed?”
Espada made a show of pain. “Mother of God, Javier, you can’t possibly ask me that. Do you really believe I would do such a thing? I loved Roberto as much as I love you. He was such a promising young matador. Did your mother receive the flowers and the money I sent?”
“Yes, she did, and she thanks you. But Domingo …” Javier said, narrowing his eyes. “The talk is that Roberto did something to displease you. What was it? The police are baffled by the murder. Who was that girl he was with? I think you know something and are not telling me.”
Espada looked at Margareta and shook his head. She continued to look at the young man, admiring his build.
“Can you hear this, Margareta?” Espada asked. “He is accusing his manager of murder. I am like an uncle to him.”
“He’s upset, Domingo,” Margareta said, stone-faced. “Surely you understand that.”
Espada acknowledged this with a nod of his head. He turned back to Rojo and said, “Please, Javier, sit and have a drink. I share your sorrow, believe me. I promise you on the soul of Pedro Romero that I had nothing to do with your brother’s death.”
Javier blushed and relaxed a little at the mention of the famous bullfighter. “I’m … I’m sorry, Domingo,” he said, now feeling foolish. “You’re right, I am upset. It’s just that no one seems to know what really happened.”
“Sit down, have a drink, Javier,” Margareta repeated.
“No, thank you,” the matador answered. “I must go and rest. I am fighting tomorrow, remember?”
“Of course I know that,” Espada said. “And that is precisely the thing to get your mind off of this terrible tragedy.”
Javier turned to leave, but stopped and looked back. “If I ever find out who was responsible for this,” he said, “I will kill him with my bare hands.”
With that, he jumped off the boat, walked down the wharf, and disappeared.
Espada looked at Margareta and rolled his eyes, Agustin had woken during the exchange and was applying suntan lotion on his shoulders.
“We’ll have to be careful about him,” Espada said. “I don’t want him flying off the handle.”
“I thought you came out here to get away from business, Domingo,” Margareta said a half-hour later. “Look who’s here now.”
Espada looked up and saw Nadir Yassasin standing on the dock.
“Permission to come aboard, sir?” Yassasin asked.
Espada waved him on, and the man climbed over the rail and took a seat on the deck. Agustin sat up in his chair, alert and ready to serve his master.
“Get yourself a drink,” Espada said, gesturing to the bar.
Yassasin poured a glass of sparkling water from a bottle that was sitting in a bucket of ice.
“Everything will fall into place tomorrow night after your rally and bullfight, Domingo. The plan has succeeded beyond my wildest dreams. Each step has proceeded exactly as I predicted. Tomorrow night at dinner you will meet the assassin we have chosen.”
“How do I know he’s any good?”
Yassasin smiled. “Because he’s an ex-British SIS agent. He’s now a member of the Union.”
“Who is it?”
Yassasin pulled a photograph out of his jacket pocket, and handed it to Espada.
“His name is James Bond,” Yassasin said. “He’s a very formidable killer. He will be one of your bodyguards at the summit meeting on Monday. That’s how we get him inside the Convent.”
“He’ll do this for me? Betray his country?”
“It is inevitable, señor,” Yassasin said, slightly bowing. “Jimmy Powers has been on his tail for the past several days, reporting his movements to me. He should be arriving in Marbella later today.”
“If this guy is as good as you say, he’ll spot the tail,” Espada said.
“No one spots Jimmy Powers,” Yassasin said. “You know that.”
Espada shrugged, unconvinced. “What else?”
“The Union has put together a force of new recruits—a thousand men from North Africa. They will unite with your men at La Linea as of tomorrow morning. We’re counting on you to recruit at least one thousand men tomorrow at the rally. If that happens, combined with the number you already have, you will be four thousand men strong.”
“That’s incredible!”
“Now. The meeting. The British Prime Minister is coming, as well as several United Nations delegates. Of course you are allowed to bring as many people with you to Gibraltar as you wish, but only three bodyguards or assistants may accompany you into the banqueting hall of the Convent, where the talks will take place. One of those will be Mr. Bond, who will use an alias, of course.”
“Agustin will be my lieutenant,” Espada said. “Margareta will also accompany us.” He tu
rned to Agustin. “Make the necessary arrangements when we get back to the ranch.”
Agustin nodded in compliance.
“That’s what we thought you would say. Mr. Powers and myself—we have secured false documentation as U.S. State Department officials. I am a Moroccan citizen working in America. We will be there to make sure everything goes smoothly. In essence, Jimmy Powers will be there to protect you if things get out of hand.”
“What about weapons?”
“Powers will be going to Gibraltar tomorrow to make those arrangements. Everything will be in place before Monday.”
Espada was impressed. “It sounds as if you have everything under control. I feel so helpless. It’s a disconcerting feeling, but I suppose I must commend you.”
Yassasin produced a rare smile and lifted his glass. “Well then. Here’s to our continued success. I have no doubt that when you take over as the new Governor of Gibraltar, the government of Spain will have no choice but to acknowledge your power as a political leader.”
“Detective Inspector Howard is here, ma’am,” Moneypenny said into the intercom. The green light above the door illuminated. “You can go on through, inspector,” she told him.
Detective Inspector Howard found M with Bill Tanner. She was sitting behind her desk, and he stood alongside her like a sentinel.
“Sit down, Inspector,” M said. “Can we get anything for you?”
“No, thank you, ma’am,” Howard said. “I’m sorry to disturb you on a Saturday.”
“That’s all right, we were here anyway.”
“Yes. Well, I’m afraid I have some rather serious news.”
“I gathered that from your telephone call. What do you have to tell us?”
“It’s your man, Bond. He killed Dr. Feare. The forensic evidence is irrefutable. We found his blood at the scene, buttons from his shirt, hair.… I’m afraid we have to find him, and find him quickly. He’s going to be charged.”
“What if I don’t believe you, Inspector?” M asked.
“Ma’am?”
“I cannot believe that Double-O Seven would do something like that unless he had a damned good reason. It’s not his style.”
Doubleshot Page 17
