The Humming Bird

by chrisno1

An adventure by Chris Stacey starring Ian Fleming's James Bond

THE HUMMING BIRD

By Chris Stacey

An adventure starring Ian Fleming's James Bond

© 2009 Chris Stacey Esq.

CONTENTS

PART ONE: FIRST STEP FORWARD

1: THE CREATURE

2: LAND OF BLACK GOLD

3: PALACIO DO NORTE

4: THE HUMMING BIRD

5: DEATHLY SILENCE

6: GOLIATH

7: A FACE FROM THE PAST

PART TWO: SECOND STEP BACK

8: THE WARLORD

9: A TASTE OF HONEY

10: KARPENKO

11: BODIES FOR SALE

12: CALSOOM

13: THE GAMBIT

PART THREE: THIRD STEP TO HELL

14: THE BOGOTA JUNGLE

15: ARGUS INTERNATIONAL

16: THE GIRL

17: THE WIND CHIMES ARE SINGING

18: A BITTER-SWEET BREAKFAST

19: HEART OF DARKNESS

20: ARKADIN

21: THE DANGEROUS GAME

22: HELL ON EARTH

23: FIRE – EXIT

24: BLOOD AND TEARS

25: PROMISES, PROMISES

PART ONE:

ONE STEP FORWARD

One:

THE CREATURE

The lush green canopy stretched uninterrupted for mile upon mile. The dense foliage of gently vibrating leaves extended to the horizon in every direction where it buffeted against the pale blue of the Amazonian sky. The soft breath sighed to the tips of the massive Brazil not trees, disturbing the myriad of butterflies that fluttered around the highest branches. The parakeets and toucans competed for the sunlight and occasionally took flight, catching the wind to transport them to superior roosting perches. Below them the cormorants and jabirus swooped between the trees, their rainbow plumes making striking, colourful flashes against the ceaseless verdant rooftop.

High above them all, floating in a pocket of air, his massive wings stabilising an equally large frame, hovered a lone harpy eagle. His black eyes scanned the canopy below, seeking a meal. The eagle was a great distance from his nest, but he knew the territory of the squirrel monkeys; they would not have moved far to a new hiding place.

Suddenly the telescopic vision of the eagle picked out the specks of grey and black. The harpy flapped his wings once for acceleration, before plummeting into a steep dive. The enormous bird covered the distance noiselessly and in seconds. The harpy crashed through the side of a single huge leaf and the monkeys scattered in all directions emitting piercing screams as they attempted escape. The eagle ducked and dived among the branches, seeking the weakest of its prey. The little primate didn't stand a chance as the harpy grasped it tight in both claws. The eagle's wings beat hard, propelling his heavy body upwards. The monkey squealed as the claws, bigger than human hands, squeezed tight around the grey body. The internal organs of the monkey burst instantly and it fell silent.

The winged predator swiftly changed direction for his return journey, once more scanning the lush greenery, but this time he was looking for the dark waters of a river, which despite its size was almost impossible to see except from the air. The eagle exercised his wings and followed the general direction of the river, heading upstream where the canopy seemed to rise in the distance. Here the trees covered a range of rocky hills, their roots clinging through the shallow soil, embedding themselves into creases and splits in the rock.

The flow of the river increased and the harpy could see the reflection of the sun glinting on the barren hill top of the island where he had made his home. The eagle began his descent, approaching the nest at a less acute angle than his attack dive. At the last moment he expanded his wings fully to cushion the air and allow him to come to a stop. The harpy dropped his prey into the nest and started to tear at the carcass with his ferocious pointed beak. Each strip of meat was flipped towards the eager crowing mouths of its offspring.

Several metres below the eagles nest an extended family of blue crowned quetzals chattered and called in conversation, basking in the occasional sunlight that streaked between the gaps in the trees. The rain forest was quiet bar the hiss of insects and the occasional raucous noise the macaws.

Unexpectedly, there was a rustling in the undergrowth and the quetzals inclined their collective heads towards the noise. A creature appeared, panting. Fleet of foot and clearly in a tremendous hurry, this wasn't the sort of creature the bird's had expected to see, which was why they started to frantically take to their wings, emitting high pitched alarm calls as they did so.

The creature was a naked girl. The sound of the fleeing birds made her stop. She looked around briefly and then continued to run. She was young and athletic. Her body was toned and muscular. Her legs were long and well developed and the skin sat taut over the defined muscles. Her firm buttocks hardly moved as she ran. Each step and breath was met with a rise and fall of her beautiful bosom and her flat stomach heaved in time with her gasps. The girl's long blonde hair was matted with sweat and stuck to her back and across her shoulders. She had a beautiful face with generous pouting lips and hazel eyes. But it was a face contorted in pain. She blinked to wash away the perspiration as it ran down her forehead and into her eyes. It dripped off her chin and sat like a film of oil across her honey tanned body, forming big droplets under her arms and between her breasts and the cleft of her backside. Shafts of piercing sun shone on the girl's skin, illuminating her shining torso for brief seconds, as she sped through the forest. She had been running a long time and her wide shoulders bunched with the agony of her heavy breathing. She was used to exercise. But today she was frightened. She was alone and afraid.

She paused in her flight, just enough to register another disturbance, further away somewhere to her right. It wasn't the instant snap and pop of breaking branches under feet. It was a steady sound, a rolling noise, like the beat of a thousand wings. She glanced around her surroundings. She would need to take a different path, away from the worn track. She listened again. She could only hear her own breath rasping in her ears. She tasted her own salty moisture on her lips.

The girl didn't hesitate any longer and struck off into the undergrowth, fighting with the branches that whipped at her face and arms, ignoring the scratches to her calves. Her feet she knew were already a mass of blood inside the simple canvas slippers she wore. She could hear the roar getting louder. Her heart beat quicker and her legs moved faster. It had to be the river. It simply had to be. Then suddenly she heard another sound: a bark. It was far off, but it sounded to the girl as though the animal was next to her.

She didn't stop to take her bearings. The dog barked again and again, closer now. There was more than one, she knew, they were hunting in packs. Ahead of her, the girl could see the trees were thinning and the half light of the forest gave way to an expanse of clear bright sunshine. She slowed down as she approached the edge of the tree line. She could still hear the yapping of the dogs, but further away now. Perhaps they had passed along the path and not followed her. She squatted and crept forward. She could see the stretch of bare ground between the trees and the water's edge. She couldn't see any obstructions or traps, but she knew better than that.

The girl scrabbled around her, searching for a stick. Eventually she found what would have to suffice, less a stick, more a strong leaf. She didn't know the plant, but the stem didn't sting her. She had to hope it would be heavy enough to test her route. Gingerly, she edged toward the open lea. Once there she smiled at the thought of the cool water beyond. She reached out with the plant leaf and swept it across the first few feet of ground. Nothing. Carefully, still crouched and still watching the grasses beneath her feet, the girl moved forward. She repeated the process, but realised she would need to do this manoeuvre six or seven times to reach the river. It worried her. The noise from the river rush was almost deafening in the open air and she wouldn't be able to hear any pursuers.

The girl started. Had she heard something? Was it a heavy, low growl? She glanced around her, suddenly aware of her nakedness. She moved forward another few feet and then, with no further warning, she heard a bark followed by the scurry of quick feet.

The girl sprung upright and tore towards the river. Two paces. Three paces and she would be there. The animals came at her from the right, huge Mastiffs, each standing a little over three feet to the ears and weighing at least sixty pounds. Their mouths were open, their teeth bared and curtains of spit dripped from their snarling fangs. Despite herself, the girl screamed and threw herself to the ground in an attempt to avoid the attack.

The first dog was already leaping and passed straight over her, its hind legs crashed onto her back and she shouted as the breath rushed out of her. The second animal had time to adjust and skidded to a halt. It was the dog's own bulk that saved the girl as it couldn't bend its neck towards her quickly enough. She rolled away, instinctively taking up a sprinters stance to push herself off towards the river again. Her left hand went down to the ground and she felt the cold metal beneath her palm.

The snap of the trap was matched by the crack of her wrist bones breaking. Her scream matched the roaring river. She would have fainted if the dogs hadn't pounced again. Fear kept her alive. The man trap was fixed by metal shackles. The girl couldn't tell what the chain was fastened to, but she didn't care. It was a weapon. As one of the Mastiff's launched itself at her, she lifted the metal device with both hands and smashed the dog hard across the nose, letting out a shriek of pain as she did so. The dog didn't so much yelp as scream in annoyance as its snout exploded with blood. The beast rolled away and thrashed about for a few seconds while righting itself.

The girl's luck did not hold and as soon as she'd delivered the first blow, she saw the other dog attacking. She moved too late and its teeth fastened themselves on her right leg. She yelled again and spun around, desperately trying to hit the animal over the head. She felt a searing pain as its jaws locked tight and she collapsed with the animal jumping across her, its paws scrabbling at her body, tearing at the skin on her stomach and legs. Blood was spurting out of her leg, coating her lower body in glorious crimson. Fleetingly, she saw the first Mastiff come to an abrupt halt, reeling up on its legs and wailing with agony.

With a huge effort she brought the man trap up. It was flapping on the end of her useless wrist. She swung her arm up and down. The point of the trap collided with the beast's eyes. The animal loosened its grip on her leg and she swung again and again until maddened, the animal finally released her with a guttural growl, rolling onto its back before returning to all fours, where it took stock of its quarry.

The girl dragged herself away. For a moment she couldn't stand upright. The pain that coursed through her leg was almost unbearable. But to survive she knew she had to escape the man trap. Desperately she pulled on the chain. The metal links lifted. The girl could see they led back across the same twenty feet of deadly ground and ended fixed to a big metal clasp drilled into a tree trunk. The first dog was equally stuck. Having trodden in a trap of its own, the wretched creature was tearing at its own leg, trying to free itself. The other Mastiff, despite the mass of blood that had replaced its right eye, seemed poised to spring. Half blind, it was in more of a rage than before.

When the animal leapt at her, the girl was ready and she ducked low, forcing herself to attack the underbelly of the beast. She rammed the man trap hard into the genitals of the dog and it emitted a growl of annoyance, spinning onto its hind quarters. The girl was on the dog's blind side now and she used the opportunity to drag the chain up and around the neck of the beast, choking it. She felt the metal sink into the flesh of the dog's windpipe and tightened. She could taste the stale stench of it's breath as the Mastiff growled in anger. She put all her effort into holding on, her legs circling the animal, keeping it pinned underneath her. The beast squealed in pain and shook itself in a desperate attempt to be free. The girl jerked hard, her muscles ached with the strain of trying to tear into the animal's larynx. Her knee crashed into the huge underbelly in an attempt to weaken it. Snarling the animal twisted and bucked, hoping to throw off its enemy, but the girl held firm, her tired muscles, tight with the exertion, dug the chain ever deeper into the damaged windpipe. Slowly, the animal started to lose consciousness, and its snarls became whimpers. And then it was finished.

Panting, the girl released the chain. The dead animal lay steaming. She was covered in her blood and a layer of filth from the dog's skin. Her face was a mask of perspiration. It was impossible to tell where the tears of pain and relief mixed with her sweat. Unable to stop herself she retched, her own sick adding to the putrid heap of death and gore. The first Mastiff was still threshing about and howling. She couldn't understand why the other dogs were not here yet. The girl put the fear out of her mind and turned her thoughts to escape. She raised the chain a foot or so from the ground and then brought it crashing down. About half way down its length a second man trap bit on the metal links. She repeated the exercise three more times, to be certain the levee was safe.

The girl now had a clear route to her restraining point. Quickly she skipped over the ground and looked at the pinion. It didn't look all that strong. She took hold of the man trap again and using it as a battering ram, she started to free the chain. In the distance she heard more dogs. It wouldn't take them long to find her. The girl's efforts took on ever more urgency and she smacked harder and harder, the sinews on her back standing out as she attempted to free herself.

Suddenly, the pinion popped loose. The girl gave a grim satisfied smile. She quickly removed the chain from the man trap that encased her arm and then retraced her steps back to the river edge. Here the earth was spongy and soft and her toes curled into the blessed relief of the chilly wetness. She peered into the rushing, foaming water. It looked safe, but she couldn't tell for certain. There didn't appear to be any shallows, the bank plunging straight down into the deep water. She felt certain there were rapids somewhere further along its course. She would have to worry about that later.

The girl didn't hear the gun shot. She felt the smack of the bullet in her right shoulder and it propelled her forward. She didn't so much dive as topple into the river, converting her fall into a belly flop that stung her abdomen. Her head went under the water and immediately she felt the current dragging her deeper in and further down the river. Disorientated, she flailed helplessly with her injured arms. It was too deep to see properly. She struck up for the surface, her motions slowed by the injured leg and shoulder and the iron weight on her left wrist.

When her head came up she saw she had been carried some way down the river, but the guards were waiting. They fired more shots at her and there was a corresponding slap as they hit the water. The girl panicked and tried to swim further into the centre of the torrent, not realising the current swirled in shifting eddies, trapping anything unfortunate enough to enter it. The girl couldn't escape. She tried to break out of the cycle but every time she broke free of one eddy, the turbulence seemed to suck her into another. Sometimes she was above the surface, sometimes under it. She vaguely felt something hit her again in the back, but she was too weak to recognise what it was. She felt her eyes start to close and her mouth to open. She was taking on too much water. Everything seemed to be turning black. The girl's movements became less and less. She couldn't struggle any more. All the energy was drained from her. Exhausted, wounded, torn and sinking, the girl finally let go and she drifted into what felt like sleep. But it was a numbness from which she would never awake.

Many days later and hundreds of miles downstream, a group of native fisherman were distracted by what appeared to be a light brown log pinned against the river bank. They were shocked to discover it was the body of a naked woman. She had clearly been in some distress. Her face had once been very beautiful, but was battered. She had awful injuries to her leg and her left arm was mangled, the wrist and hand completely missing and the bones sticking out, jagged and broken. She appeared to have been shot three or four times. There wasn't a lot of blood left in the body. The fishermen dragged the body into one of their boats.

They decided it would be best to preserve the carcass and inform the local Indian police officer when he made one of his occasional visits. After all, the girl wasn't a native. She looked to be more European than anything else, although the fishermen had never seen a European. Yes, the police would be able to make something of it. The men noted with some surprise that she had a tattoo. It sat slightly to the right of her trimmed pubis. It was a very artistic depiction of a winged creature, coloured in scarlet, emerald and grey. They didn't know why she had the mark, but they did recognise the exotic bird as what the Portuguese called a beija flor: the flower kisser.