The Mystery Man Part 1
Bond's phone buzzed in his trouser pocket, and he swiftly picked it up and looked at the new message on the screen which had been sent through only a matter of seconds ago. The ID of the sender of the message wasn't there, adding a layer of mystery to this text. The message read:
Meet me at the West Stand of the Polideportivo Misael Delgado. Near the changing room entrance.
Bond walked towards the home ground of his club Hermandad Gallega F.C, who had just finished their second season under his tutelage. Bond thought he'd be afforded a little break from his new life of football management, but it wasn't to be.
He packed his Walther PPK and headed towards the stadium. He arrived at the West Stand and looked around at the vacant carpark. The only people he could see were people walking along the street opposite the football arena.
All of a sudden 007 felt a hand around his mouth and soon the lights in his head went out and everything turned to darkness.
**
The pier stretched out into the grey-blue sea. The wooden structure was old, creaky and rusty. Clouds swarmed above and the fierce winds made the water rough and cold. There was no protection on either side so if you fell in it was up to you to get yourself out of there.
Three men stood on either side of the pier, all with their polo shirts and jackets on. Each had black hair and emotionless expressions spread across their face. Two more men walked down the pier and they held a man inbetween them.
He was above average in height, well-built but still fairly thin, wore a fine suit and had combed black hair. He was calm and didn't cause a fuss as he was escorted to the edge of the long wooden walkway. When he got there he was forced to turn around and face another man.
This man had a cold look on his face. His eyes were evil and his body language suggested he was determined. Out of his right pocket he pulled out a pistol. Another, younger man appeared from behind the gunman, obviously the leader of this "gang".
"Mr. Bond - your time is up," the leader said. The man at the end of the pier watched as the gun was handed to the younger gang member, who was looking nervous and twitchy. He fumbled with the gun before steadying himself to aim.
Bond stared at him. "Shoot him, Vargas," ordered the leader. Vargas, the junior, wiped the sweat from his forehead as he settled the aim of the gun towards the chest of the victim. His finger wrapped round the trigger and he slowly pulled on it.
"Hurry up!" his boss barked.
A loud noise went off and Bond fell backwards off the pier, into the water and fell straight down on to the sea bed. Little beads of rain began to fall onto the rickety old pier off the hidden beach. The leader pat Vargas on the back, and the men left and walked back through the dense vegetation.
**
A drizzle of rain began to fall on the choppy sea off the Venezuelan coast. The sea reflected the overcast sky's grey tone, only the whitecaps of the waves and the dark green colour of the overgrown jungle on the mainland and lone island off the coast provided a contrast to the boring grey.
In the middle of the sea Bond's head splashed out of the water. He gasped for breath and checked that no one was waiting for him in case he had survived. It seems they had made that careless mistake.
The Englishman paddled his way towards the sand and as the rain began to fall more heavily he seeked cover from the downpour that was coming. It was going to be a long night.
To be continued...