The driver reached forward to the dashboard. From the front of the machine there sounded the brief howl of a police siren. It meandered into a dying moan. After a minute the machine stopped, idling in neutral. The man pressed a switch and took a microphone off a hook beside him. He spoke into it and Bond could hear the echoing voice of the loud-hailer outside. ‘Okay. Got the Limey and the girl. Other man’s dead. That’s the lot. Open up.’
Bond heard a door being pulled sideways on iron rollers. The driver put in the clutch and they rolled slowly forward a few yards and stopped. The man switched off the engine. There was a clang as the iron hatch was opened from the outside. A gush of fresh air and a flood of brighter light came into the cabin. Hands took hold of Bond and dragged him roughly out backwards on to a cement floor. Bond stood up. He felt the prod of a gun in his side. A voice said, ‘Stay where you are. No tricks.’ Bond looked at the man. He was another Chinese negro, from the same stable as the others. The yellow eyes examined him curiously. Bond turned away indifferently. Another man was prodding the girl with his gun. Bond said sharply, ‘Leave the girl alone.’ He walked over and stood beside her. The two men seemed surprised. They stood, pointing their guns indecisively.
Bond looked around him. They were in one of the Quonset huts he had seen from the river. It was a garage and workshop. The ‘dragon’ had been halted over an examination pit in the concrete. A dismantled outboard motor lay on one of the benches. Strips of white sodium lighting ran along the ceiling. There was a smell of oil and exhaust smoke. The driver and his mate were examining the machine. Now they sauntered up.
One of the guards said, ‘Passed the message along. The word is to send them through. Everything go okay?’
The co-driver, who seemed to be the senior man present, said, ‘Sure. Bit of gunfire. Lights gone. Maybe some holes in the tyres. Get the boys crackin’ – full overhaul. I’ll put these two through and go get myself some shuteye.’ He turned to Bond. ‘Okay, git moving,’ he gestured down the long hut.
Bond said, ‘Get moving yourself. Mind your manners. And tell those apes to take their guns off us. They might let one off by mistake. They look dumb enough.’
The man came closer. The other three closed up behind him. Hate shone redly in their eyes. The leading man lifted a clenched fist as big as a small ham and held it under Bond’s nose. He was controlling himself with an effort. He said tensely, ‘Listen, mister. Sometimes us boys is allowed to join in the fun at the end. I’m just praying this’ll be one of those times. Once we made it last a whole week. An, Jees, if I get you …’ He broke off. His eyes were alight with cruelty. He looked past Bond at the girl. The eyes became mouths that licked their lips. He wiped his hands down the sides of his trousers. The tip of his tongue showed pinkly between the purple lips. He turned to the other three. ‘What say, fellers?’
The three men were also looking at the girl. They nodded dumbly, like children in front of a Christmas tree.
Bond longed to run berserk among them, laying into their faces with his manacled wrists, accepting their bloody revenge. But for the girl he would have done it. Now all he had achieved with his brave words was to get her frightened. He said, ‘All right, all right. You’re four and we’re two and we’ve got our hands tied. Come on. We won’t hurt you. Just don’t push us around too much. Doctor No might not be pleased.’
At the name, the men’s faces changed. Three pairs of eyes looked whitely from Bond to the leader. For a minute the leader stared suspiciously at Bond, wondering, trying to fathom whether perhaps Bond had got some edge on their boss. His mouth opened to say something. He thought better of it. He said lamely, ‘Okay, okay. We was just kiddin’ . ’ He turned to the men for confirmation. ‘Right?’
‘Sure! Sure thing.’ It was a ragged mumble. The men looked away.
The leader said gruffly, ‘This way, mister.’ He walked off down the long hut.
Bond took the girl’s wrist and followed. He was impressed with the weight of Doctor No’s name. That was something to remember if they had any more dealings with the staff.
The man came to a rough wooden door at the end of the hut. There was a bellpush beside it. He rang twice and waited. There came a click and the door opened to reveal ten yards of carpeted rock passage with another door, smarter and cream-painted, at the end.
The man stood aside. ‘Straight ahead, mister. Knock on the door. The receptionist’ll take over.’ There was no irony in his voice and his eyes were impassive.
Bond led the girl into the passage. He heard the door shut behind them. He stopped and looked down at her. He said, ‘Now what?’
She smiled tremulously. ‘It’s nice to feel carpet under one’s feet.’
Bond squeezed her wrist. He walked forward to the cream-painted door and knocked.
