Blast from the Past by Ian Fleming

Author:Ian Fleming [Fleming, Ian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General Fiction
Publisher: Playboy
Published: 1997-01-10T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 5

The jolt of three slaps on the face brought Bond out of the pit of darkness. He was propped in a chair in a different room, some kind of old office, with junky furniture piled next to the walls. A single overhead light cast a dull yellow glow over the floor.

The back of his head hurt like hell. His first reflex was to reach up with his right hand to rub his head, but the cold muzzle of a pistol jabbed his temple.

"Don't move," a man's voice said.

Bond groaned, squeezed his eyes twice, then focused on the blurry figure standing in front of him. It was the bag lady, but strangely changed. The rags were gone, and she was dressed in a black shirt and black trousers. Her face still seemed smooth, waxen, unreal. She was plump and short, probably no more than 5'2". The gray hair pulled back in a bun seemed fake -- it looked as if she wore a wig.

"You don't recognize me, Mr. Bond?" she said. "Maybe this will help."

The woman reached up to her hairline and gently began to peel off something stuck to her skin. No, she was actually peeling off her skin! She worked carefully, removing a thin mask of synthetic flesh that covered the right half of her face. Underneath was a grotesque skin condition that began on her right cheekbone and went up the side of her face and underneath the wig: the scarring of poorly executed plastic surgery. She was a female version of the phantom of the opera.

"Hideous, Mr. Bond?" she said. "Take a good look. I want you to see what you did to me." She pronounced her Ws as Vs, like a B-movie Nazi.

What the hell was she talking about? Bond forced himself to look at her again, and this time the feeling of recognition he had earlier experienced returned. He looked past the horrible mask and saw a square, brutal face with toadlike features. No! He felt his heart race when he realized who she was. A report claiming that the woman had been seen in Australia received some attention shortly after the Japanese affair, but this information proved to have been false. It was seemingly impossible, but there she was in front of him. She was supposed to be dead!

"Irma Bunt," he said.

"Oh, so you recognize me!" she cackled. She carefully replaced the skin mask as she talked. "You thought I was dead, didn't you? Everyone thought I was dead. Well, I was. I was dead for many years, until now." She chuckled to her self, then said slowly and with menace, "Now I am more alive than I ever was. It's a pity you survived the surprise I left for you in the bank. Now I'll have to take care of you here, but that might be more entertaining after all."

Bond surveyed the situation. A man stood behind his chair and held a pistol to his head. Another man, the wounded one, was next to Irma Bunt.

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