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johngardner.winloseordie-第16部分

小说: johngardner.winloseordie 字数: 每页4000字

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For a few seconds; James Bond wondered if it was guilt gnawing
at his conscience。 He had certainly shown; at the least; a sexual attraction to Clover; but this had gone cold when she proved to be an uncertain security risk。 There had been something not quite right about First Officer Pennington。 Now her geographic proximity to him triggered anxiety。 He would tell Beatrice when the moment was right; later。
 The gates were open at the Villa Capricciani; and a short; stocky young man stood near the steps。 He wore jeans and a T…shirt which proclaimed The Man Who Dies With The Most Toys Wins。 His hair was golden…bleached by the; now departed; summer sun。 and the muscles visible on his arms were toned to an awesome strength。 Take off ihe T…shirt; Bond thought; and his body would give an impression of sixteenth…century armour; plete with breastplate; vambraces and pauldrons。 Even from this distance; you could mark him down as a trained minder。 'Franco。' Beatrice explained。
 He started to unload the car while Beatrice spoke in a soft murmur to Franco; who eventually came down; closed the gates; locked them and; with a conspiratorial wink; handed a key to Bond。 He also pointed to a tiny switch set in the wall; all but covered by ivy。 In almost tedious dumb show。 Franco activated the switch; indicating that if anyone fiddled with the gates or lock; the 'screamers' would begin wailing。
 Then they all went up to the villa; and Franco disappeared through the rear french windows on his way back to the big villa。 He looked like a man who would not need to use the doors; but could walk straight through the walls; pausing only to shake brick…dust from his hair。
Leaving Beatrice to deal with the food and drink; Bond went down the steps again; locked the car; made it secure; and returned; locking (he inner gate behind him。
 'They're not going to like it。' Beatrice came to him; holding him gently in her arms and pressing herself against his body。
'They're not going lo gel it。〃 Bond smiled down al her。
She sighed。 'Oh。 James; he your age。'
 'I usually am。' He was genuinely surprised to have used such an old schoolboy piece of repartee。 Beatrice seemed to have wrought an unexpected change in him。
 'Listen to me。 Poor old Franco and Umberto will have to spend this Christmas as watchers。 The Rottweilers will prowl the grounds; and I'm not going to let you。 my darling James; out of my sight; unless the bloody BAST people have another go。'
〃Eat your hearts out。 Franco and Umberto。'
 ?Mmmm;' she nodded。 'I'm going up to the big villa now。 Give them instructions。 Make an obligatory 'phone call。 Then I'll be back and the celebrations can mence。' She gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek; and he fell that his face had never yet been kissed like this。 Beatrice had the art of kissing a cheek; as though it were his moulh; or even his deepest secret being。 Kissing; he considered; was a lost art in this crumbling; shuck…ridden world。 Beatrice had rediscovered it。 and now practised the craft in a way ihai had been hidden for centuries。 He stood on the rear terrace; listening to her footsteps on the stone path; wondering what had happened to him。 He had never been one for quick; serious decisions of the heart。 Quick; serious decisions were for operational service matters; not for women。 Yet this girl had certainly worked a powerful and potent magic。 He felt; after one day; that he had known her for most of his life。
It was untypical; and it worried him。 for; in this short space of time; Beatrice had started to mand his heart。 Bond's discipline was such that Ihis rarely happened。 Even ihe courting of his now dead wife had taken time。 Apart from that one instance; he was one of life's natural playboy bachelors as far as women were concerned: one who had so often lived by the three Fs … Find; Fornicate and Forget。 It was the safest way in his job。 for basically he believed Field Officers should only be married if they needed the cover。 It was a cold and clinical approach; but the right one。 Beatrice was turning it upside down。
 He thought about this dilemma for some time; then remembered there was a new code word to collect; so he turned back into the villa and dialled London。
 The number in England picked up; as usual; on the third ring。 'Predator;' said Bond。 'Day two。'
 'Dragontooth;' the voice was clear from the distant line。 'Repeat。 Dragontooth。'
 'Acknowledge。' Bond put down the receiver。 So; some of the intelligentsia who burrowed away in the Regent's Park office were trying to be clever。 In his extreme youth。 Bond had read much; and his memory was almost photographic。 He called back the lines now; from Dante's Inferno from The Divine edy。
Front and centre here; Grizzly and Hellkin 。 。 。 You too; Deaudog 。 。 。 Curlybeard; lake charge of a squad of ten。 Take Grafter and Dragoniooih along with you。 Pigfusk; Catciaw。 Cramper and Crazyred。
 They were some of the named demons with forked claws and rakes who tended; and goaded; the damned in their cauldron of boiling pitch。 So。 those at headquarters were now deeply influenced by the strange mystic concept of the Brotherhood of Anarchy and Secret Terrorism … BAST; the three…headed monster who rode on a viper。
 'Dragontooth; James。' He had not even heard her e in through the trench windows behind him。 She had been as silent as a cat。 'Correct。 Dragontooth;' he said; thinking; 'Cat'。 Could the Pennington girl be the Cat of BAST … Saphii Boudai?
'Dragontooih;' he said again; giving Beatrice a sad smile。 Behind the smile his brain worked at the equation。 Saphii Boudai's file showed her as a dedicated terrorist from her teens。 The British authorities had been close to her on two occasions; yet she remained; like the other members of the BAST hierarchy; a ghost; an insubstantial; if deadly; figure with no true form or shape; of which there was no real description。 The Pennington girl had a history。 A good family。 He even knew her uncle; Sir Arthur Pennington; Master of Pennington Nab in the West Country。 Her cousins had both been close to him at one lime or another。 The background was impeccable。 Or was it? Another thought struck him。
 〃What's wrong; James?' Beatrice had e to him; wrapping her arms around his neck and looking into his face with her hypnotic black eyes。 The eyes seemed almost to weaken him; and their bottomless darkness drew him into her brain so that all he could sec was a possible future with her: a future free from danger and responsibility … except to her。
 Bond drew back; holding Beatrice at arm's length。 'I saw someone in Forio。 Someone who shouldn't be there。'
 Her face underwent a change。 Just a slight twitch of concern; but enough to reveal that this delightful girl had Ihe tough inner resources required by people in their mutual trade。 She drew him over to the couch and started to question him … her queries all aimed a! the heart of the problem; the reason he was here。 in the villa on Ischia。 It was plain that; as well as everything else; Beairice was a skilled interrogator。
 He told her everything; in its chronological sequence。 First Officer Pennington at YeXwilton; her lax sense of security; and the fact that she was to be in charge of a section of Wrens on draft to Invincible… something very much out of the norm for the Royal Navy。
〃And she knew of your drafting?' Beatrice asked。
 To where?' he countered; still in control of his own sense of need…to…know; the central pin of all security matters。
 'Invincible; of course; James; you don't think they would have pui me in charge of this assignment without a plele briefing。 She knew you were to be in Invincible for Landsea '89 … the Pennington girl… I mean?'
 He nodded。 〃Yes; and she didn't seem to think it was something she had to keep quiet about。 Clover had access to all the draft orders。 It was like giving classified information to a gossip columnist。 She had as much idea of security; and keeping her mouth shut; as a (own crier。'
 'Mmmm。' Beairice frowned; and Bond thought she even looked attractive when her face became ге…pailerned with anxiety。 'Look。 James。' she laid a hand on his thigh; which seemed to pass a current of signals to alert his most basic physical needs。 'Look; I have a secure radio…link back to the big villa。
This is something I should report now。 before it's too late。 It
won't take long。 Are you up to some menial chores; like doing vegetables for tomorrow's dinner?〃
 Bond rarely bothered himself with the preparation of food。 For years it had always been something others did for you。 But he simply nodded; and went into the liltte kitchen while Beatrice left the Villa Capricciani; hurrying; her face reflecting the fact that she considered Clover Pennington's presence on the island。 and nearby; to be something of grave concern。
 In the kitchen。 Bond began to prepare the vegetables; smiling wryly and thinking how M would love to see him now。 He would not have been surprised to learn that M had given Beatrice Maria da Ricci instructions to Tut Bond in his place。' He could hear the Old Man telling her that (M)7 was sometimes a shade too conscious of his class for his own good。 'Get him to do some physical jobs; like swabbing the decks of that villa。〃 It was the kind of devilment in which M would revel。
In England ihat Christmas Eve; M was down at Quarterdeck; but not at ease。 An extra secure telephone link had been installed so thai he could get information concerning Bond and his situation within seconds of it ing in to Headquarters。
 Though M was naturally a solitary person; he did have relatives: a daughter; now married to an academic who worked on inprehensible and obscure pieces of European history at Cambridge。 They had provided M with two grandchildren; a boy and girl; whom he adored and spoiled in; for him; a most uncharacteristic manner。
 The tree was trimmed; Mrs Davison had everything ready; and; during the previous week; M had gone; with her husband; on a spend ing…spree; most of the purchases being extravagant playthings for the grandchildren。 At Christmas。 M seemed to turn in to the reformed Scrooge…in facl; part oft he Quarterdeck Christmas ritual was a reading from Dickens' A Christmas Carol。 But; this year; M did not seem to have his heart in the preparations。 He sa

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