Bond - 18 - Role of Honor by John Gardner

Author:John Gardner [Gardner, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: ePub Bud (www.epubbud.com)
Published: 2009-04-01T16:00:00+00:00

Move. Bond was off down the corridor, making for the room to his left. He had some vague idea that he might leap from the window.

Anything to remove himself from the vicious hailstorm of bullets.

He took rapid strides into the room and, trying to make as little noise as possible, closed the door, automatically sliding a small bolt above the handle. He started to cross the floor, heading for the windows, clutching the useless ASP as though his life depended on it.

As he sidestepped a chair, he saw them - two ASP magazines, cutaway matt black oblongs, lying on a rickety table between the high windows.

Grabbing at the first, he saw immediately that they were his own reserves, both full, loaded with Glasers.

There is a fast routine for reloading the ASP, a fluent movement that quickly jettisons an empty magazine, replacing it with a full one.

Bond went through the reload procedure in a matter of five seconds, including dropping his eyes to check that a live round had entered the chamber.

He performed the reloading on the move, finally positioning himself hard against the wall to the left of the door. The team would leap in after the grenades had accomplished their disorientating effect, one to the left and one right. They would be firing as they came, but Bond gambled on their first bursts going wide across the room.

Flattening himself against the wall, he held the powerful little weapon at arm's length in the two-handed grip, at the same time clutching the spare magazine almost as an extension to the butt.

They were making straight for this room. As he reloaded, Bond had been conscious of the bangs and rattle of their textbook assault through the landing door.

Bullets spat and splintered the woodwork to his right. A boot smashed in the handle and broke the flimsy bolt, while a pair of stun grenades hit the bare boards, making a heavy clunk, one of them rolling for a split second before detonation.

He closed his eyes, head turning slightly to avoid the worst effect - the flash that temporarily blinds - though nothing could stop the noise which seemed to explode from within his own cranium, putting his head in a vice, and ringing in his ears like a magnified bell. It blotted out all external sounds, even that of his own pistol as he fired, and the death-rattle of the submachine guns as the two-man team stepped through the lingering smoke.

Bond acted purely by intuition. At the first movement through the door he sighted the three little yellow triangles on the dark moving shape. He squeezed the trigger twice, resighted and squeezed again.

In all the four bullets were off in less than three seconds - though the whole business appeared to be frozen in time, slowed down like a cinematic trick so that everything happened with a ponderous, even clumsy, brutality.

The man nearest Bond came through, leaping to his left, the wicked little automatic weapon tucked between upper arm and ribcage, the muzzle already spitting fire as he identified and turned towards his target.

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