按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
r tipped me off about Jason's style of play 〃He doesn't like to lose；' she said with a grin。 〃Almost pathological； like a child。
It's a matter of honour with him。〃 Bond did not smile。 〃And me；' he said softly。 〃It's a matter of honour with me。〃 It was past three…thirty in the morning。 Bond packed up the equipment and took it down to the car； locking it away in the boot。 Back in his room； he put the cloned programs in a FloppiPak disk mailer； smiling wryly at the frightful nomenclature of the trade。 He addressed the label to himself at a Post Office box number； then weighed the small； flat package in his hand； making an intelligent guess as to weight。 He stuck on what he estimated to be sufficient postage from a folder of stamps in his briefcase。 He would have liked to deliver the package in person； but he was not going to leave anything to chance。
Sitting at the small dressing table； Bond next wrote a short note to Freddie on hotel paper。
Gone to Oxford for the morning。 Didn't want to wake you； but will be back for lunch。 How about a return match this afternoon？
Stripping off； he ran a cold shower and stepped under it； holding his face against the stinging needle spray and gasping at the initial shock。 After a minute or so； he added some warm water； soaped himself； then rubbed himself down； towelling his body briskly。 Before shaving he climbed into his underwear； a pair of black Ted Lapidus cords and a black cotton rollneck。 He strapped the ASP automatic； in its holster； so that it lay hard against his right hip。 Last； he put on a light suede jacket and pushed his feet into the old favourite moccasins。
It was just getting light； the dark sky changing to grey and then that cold…washed pearl which heralds unsettled weather。 With the detested FloppiPak in his briefcase Bond went downstairs； left his key and the note for Freddie at the deserted reception and went out to the car。
The Bentley's engine growled into life at the first turn of the key； and he allowed it to settle to its normal； gentle purr； fastening the seatbelt and watching the red warning lights flick off one by one。
Releasing the foot brake； he slid the selector into Drive and let the car roll forward。 If he took the Oxford road； turned on to the ring road； and then headed for the M40 he could be in London in ninety minutes。
It began to rain as he reached the big roundabout on the periphery of the ring road and took the dual carriageway； heading towards London。
He was a mile or so along this stretch when the white Mercedes of the day before appeared in his mirror。
Bond cursed silently； tightened his seatbelt and moved his foot smoothly down on the accelerator。 The car slid forward； gathering power； the speedometer rising to 100； then 120 miles per hour。
There was little traffic as he slid neatly in and out of the stray cars and lorries； mainly keeping to the fast lane。
The white Mercedes held back； but even at speed； Bond could not throw it off altogether。 Ahead the signs came up for an exit。
Flicking the indicator at the last moment； he left the dual carriageway still well in excess of the 100 miles per hour mark； the Bentley responding to his light control； holding the road during the turn。 The Mercedes seemed to have disappeared。 He hoped that the driver had not been able to reduce speed in time to get off the main highway。
Ahead the road narrowed； fir trees shadowing either side。 A lumbering heavy transporter grumbled along at fifty behind a petrol tanker。 The Bentley's speed dropped。 As he rounded the next bend； Bond caught a flash of headlights； blinking on and off from a lay…by。
The next time he looked there was another Mercedes hooking itself on to his tail。
They had radio contact； he thought； and probably five or six cars covering him。 Taking the next left turn； he picked up the telephone and； without allowing his eyes to leave the road； punched out the numbers that would raise the Duty Officer at the Regent's Park Headquarters on a scrambled radio line。
The road narrowed。 The second Mercedes was still there when he negotiated the next turn just as the Duty Officer answered。
〃Gamesman flash for Dungeonmaster。〃 Bond spoke rapidly。 〃Am being followed； south of Oxford。 Important package for Dungeonmaster。 Will attempt mail。
Addressed myself。 The Programmer is definitely involved all illegal actions as thought。 Investigate Balloon Game。 Speak to the Goddess。〃
〃Understood；' the Duty Officer said； and the line was closed。
As he took the next bend； Bond saw a village ing up and realised he had outdistanced the Mercedes。 He pumped the footbrake； slowing the Bentley dramatically； looking ahead and to the left。 The car was almost out of the village before he spotted the wele brilliant red of a post box。 The Bentley slid to a halt beside it； and Bond had his seatbelt off before the car had stopped rolling。
It took less than twenty seconds to slip the package into the box and return to the driving seat。 He did not rebuckle the belt until the Bentley was already gathering speed and the Mercedes had appeared again in his driving mirror。 He passed an electric milk float doing the early rounds； then he was once more in open country。 As he reached a wooded stretch； Bond caught a glimpse of a picnic area sign； then saw two other cars emerge from the trees； their bonnets ing together to form a V； blocking his path。
〃They're playing for keeps；' he muttered； ramming the footbrake； and hauling on the wheel with his left arm。
As the Bentley began to slew； broadside on； he was conscious of the white Mercedes close behind him。
The speedometer was touching sixty as the Bentley left the road； plunging in among the trees。 Bond desperately guided the big car past the trunks； over bracken； zigzagging wildly and trying to negotiate a path that would bring him back to the road。
The first bullet made a grating； gouging sound on the root； and Bond could think only of the damage it would do to the coach work。 The second hit his rear offside tyre； sending over 5000 lb of custom…built motor car side on into a tangle of bushes。
Slammed against the seatbelt； Bond reached simultaneously for the automatic pistol and the electric window button。
THE ASP 9mm is a small； very lethal weapon。 Essentially a scaled…down version of the Smith & Weston Model 39； it has been in use with United States Intelligence Agencies for over a decade。 With a recoil no greater than a Walther 22； it has the look of a target automatic rather than the deadly customised hand gun it really is。
Armaments Systems and Procedures； the organisation which carried out the conversion； produced the weapon to exacting specifications： ease of concealment； a minimum eight…round capacity； reliability； an ammunition indicator using Lexon see…through butt grips； and an acceptance of all known 9mm ammunition。
The rounds in Bond's magazine were particularly unpleasant Glaser Safety Slugs。 A Glaser is a prefragmented bullet that contains several hundred No。 12 shot suspended in liquid Teflon。 The velocity of these slugs； fired from the ASP； is over 1700 feet per second。
They will penetrate body armour befo