Books written by Ray Sullivan

Sunday, 11 March 2012

Project: Evil - The Counter Proposal part 2

‘That seat’s taken,’ said Brian, trying to look around the man as the door opened.  The man just smiled and fished in his jacket top pocket, pulling a business card out which he passed over to Brian.  Reluctantly, Brian looked at the card.
‘I’m sorry Mister Brown, but I don’t need any plumbing work doing,’ he said, handing the card back.  The old man furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, pulling his glasses off as he held the card up to the bridge of his nose.
‘I should have brought my reading glasses,’ he said, discarding the card onto the table and fumbling in his pocket again.  After checking the next card he found, he passed it to Brian.
‘Bund, James Bund,’ he said, looking behind him as one of the Baristas swore as coffee showered over her.  Brian watched, engrossed as she mopped herself down with paper napkins and scooped up the remains of the coffee stained mug, bringing it over to Brian’s table.  Bund took the mug off her and held her in a steely stare.
‘Is it how I requested?’ he asked her.  The Barista wiped a track of coffee off her face with the back of her hand as she nodded.
‘Shaken, not stirred,’ she confirmed, turning back to the bar.  Bund sipped the remains of the coffee before looking directly at Brian.
‘I know who you are and what you do,’ he said.  Brian looked at the old man, the gnarled walking stick he’d used to cross the room, the inhaler hanging around his neck on a cord.
‘You can’t make me stay,’ said Brian, looking at the geriatric secret agent.
‘I can’t, but they can,’ Bund said, turning and waving to a couple of old men sat near the door.  ‘They’re deadly with a Zimmer frame,’ he explained.  Brian raised a hand to the two old men waving back.
‘OK, but I’m not going to tell you anything,’ said Brian, pushing his mug of froth away.  Bund just smiled.
‘You don’t need to; I know everything you might possibly tell me.  You’re project managing an evil installation to be built in a remote uninhabited South Sea location with an almost inexhaustible local population, aiming to build and deploy a Super Heated Antimatter Gun.’  Bund sat back, looking smug.  Brian was sure one of the eyebrows started to rise higher than the other, but the hearing aid falling out spoiled the effect.  As Bund fiddled with the hearing aid, Brian challenged him.
‘How do you know all this?’ he asked, then without waiting for an answer he continued, ‘Oh my God, you’ve got a spy inside our organization,’ he exclaimed, adding, ‘there’s no other way you could have found all of that out.’
‘Or perhaps I just read your Facebook page?’ suggested Bund, this time managing to raise the eyebrow without popping the hearing aid.  Brian flushed, perhaps he’d been a little loose with the social media angle and certainly all that Bund mentioned, and more, was on there.’
‘So, why are you telling me all this?’ he asked, feeling sick to the stomach.  Bund just smiled.
‘Because I want you to work for us, the British Secret Service,’ he said.  Brian blinked, then answered.
‘You want me to project manage an evil installation?’ he asked, wondering if the NHS counted.  Perhaps they wanted a hospital building?  Could he run both projects concurrently?
‘No, we want you to continue working for O’Feld, but reporting everything back to us,’ Bund said, adding, ‘we can offer you fantastic benefits including a gold-plated public sector pension,’ he said, crossing his hands on the table.

The characters, companies and places referred to in Project: Evil are fictitious and any resemblance to people, companies, businesses or places is entirely coincidental

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