Secret agent James Bond slipped noiselessly from behind one stone to
another, always staying in the shadows. The full moon shone down on the
ancient, weathered, and long deserted buildings of Manchu Picchu, bathing
them in the moonlight. Ahead in the distance, next to an old fairway stood
three men, dressed in black. They blended in with the night's shadows. Bond
could just make out the bulge of automatic weapons under their coats.
Drawing his trademark Walter PPK-7 from his pocket he screwed on the
silencer. The British government was after the three men for assassinating
the late British ambassador to Peru. Grimacing, Bond remembered the long,
hot trek through the humid rainforest he had made following those three.
A fourth man seemed to materialize out of the shadows. The fourth man was
slightly shorter then the rest. Sliding closer, Bond unhooked a small hand-
held radar dish. Fastening a small earplug into his ear, he twiddled the
knob on the handle of the dish. Wonderful! It was if he was standing right
next to the men. He mentally reminded himself to thank Q for it when he got
back. "The poison worked wonderfully. Just as you said it would. The
chamber pierced the skin, and unleashed the poison, setting of the deadly
heart attack perfectly," said Pau.
"You fool!" replied the fourth man. "MI-6 knows it was murder, even if the public does not. Their agent, 007, was sighted in Lima last week."
"He is no concern of ours. Now where is our money?" asked Pau, who appeared to have appointed himself spokesperson of the three.
"I will make him your concern. Here is all your money," replied the fourth man, tossing the other three a briefcase. "Don't worry, all fifty thousand dollars, in unmarked bills is there. Now, I have one more job for you three. I need 007 removed, permanently." The words sent a shudder up James' spine. "Here is more of the poison," continued the fourth man, drawing a vial from his pocket. "I will pay one hundred thousand for his removal." The thought of such wealth was staggering to the three men, and Jules could see he had them hooked. "My guides will show you down," said Jules, motioning into the shadows. "Where are my guides," he cried out when none appeared. "Guards! Guards! Sound in!" he ordered into a walkie-talkie. He was answered only by static. "James Bond must, be here! Now is your chance to earn your money, hunt him down!" he cried. Taking out their pistols, the three assassins spread out, combing the area for James. James waited until one of them was almost on top him, then he sprang out from where he was crouched behind a stone.
Pau blinked in surprise as the fair skinned English man stood up from behind a stone, his Walter PPK-7 already in his hand. This man was like a ghost, suddenly rising from a graveyard. Pau's hand instinctively went to his pistol inside his jacket, but he knew it was hopeless. You can't out draw a man who already has a gun on you. Pau didn't hear the shot, but he felt himself falling. He didn't feel any pain, he suddenly felt very, very, cold. Then everything went dark. The other two assassins whirled about, heading toward the spot of the disturbance. James lined up the pistol sights, the moment they were lined up with the first man he pressed the trigger. The bullet passed through the man's jaw, ending his life before he could even register the fact that James had fired. The man had a family, and a life, but at the moment James felt no compassion for this man who had so often ended other human lives merely for money. Adrenaline was pumping through James's body, in one fluid motion James grabbed the pistol butt in two hands and faced the third assassin who was running over to Pau's body. James, the muscles in his arms and hands had long been trained to do it, fired three shots and completed the Palmer Pattern. One shot to the head then two to the chest exactly an inch apart. The third man ran forward one more step after the bullet passed through his head but then was hit square in the chest by two more slugs. They knocked him back a foot and he fell to the ground, the first shot alone was fatal. Jules fumbled for his pistol but it was scornfully kicked aside by Bond. He struggled for a moment but James's punch instantly erased all thoughts of escaping, or of doing anything at all for that matter.
"You fool!" replied the fourth man. "MI-6 knows it was murder, even if the public does not. Their agent, 007, was sighted in Lima last week."
"He is no concern of ours. Now where is our money?" asked Pau, who appeared to have appointed himself spokesperson of the three.
"I will make him your concern. Here is all your money," replied the fourth man, tossing the other three a briefcase. "Don't worry, all fifty thousand dollars, in unmarked bills is there. Now, I have one more job for you three. I need 007 removed, permanently." The words sent a shudder up James' spine. "Here is more of the poison," continued the fourth man, drawing a vial from his pocket. "I will pay one hundred thousand for his removal." The thought of such wealth was staggering to the three men, and Jules could see he had them hooked. "My guides will show you down," said Jules, motioning into the shadows. "Where are my guides," he cried out when none appeared. "Guards! Guards! Sound in!" he ordered into a walkie-talkie. He was answered only by static. "James Bond must, be here! Now is your chance to earn your money, hunt him down!" he cried. Taking out their pistols, the three assassins spread out, combing the area for James. James waited until one of them was almost on top him, then he sprang out from where he was crouched behind a stone.
Pau blinked in surprise as the fair skinned English man stood up from behind a stone, his Walter PPK-7 already in his hand. This man was like a ghost, suddenly rising from a graveyard. Pau's hand instinctively went to his pistol inside his jacket, but he knew it was hopeless. You can't out draw a man who already has a gun on you. Pau didn't hear the shot, but he felt himself falling. He didn't feel any pain, he suddenly felt very, very, cold. Then everything went dark. The other two assassins whirled about, heading toward the spot of the disturbance. James lined up the pistol sights, the moment they were lined up with the first man he pressed the trigger. The bullet passed through the man's jaw, ending his life before he could even register the fact that James had fired. The man had a family, and a life, but at the moment James felt no compassion for this man who had so often ended other human lives merely for money. Adrenaline was pumping through James's body, in one fluid motion James grabbed the pistol butt in two hands and faced the third assassin who was running over to Pau's body. James, the muscles in his arms and hands had long been trained to do it, fired three shots and completed the Palmer Pattern. One shot to the head then two to the chest exactly an inch apart. The third man ran forward one more step after the bullet passed through his head but then was hit square in the chest by two more slugs. They knocked him back a foot and he fell to the ground, the first shot alone was fatal. Jules fumbled for his pistol but it was scornfully kicked aside by Bond. He struggled for a moment but James's punch instantly erased all thoughts of escaping, or of doing anything at all for that matter.