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Sunday, 1 April 2012

Project: Evil - The First Double Cross Meeting part 2

‘So I need to get more armadillo gonads, and quick,’ said Brian, almost rhetorically, adding, ‘that’s going to be a real problem by the sound of it.’
‘Unless we help,’ said Bund, clearly embarrassed at the prospect of having to help an adversary out of a hole, pulling at the cufflink a little too hard as it separated from his sleeve.
‘Oh shit,’ said Bund, turning and throwing the cufflink as hard and as far as he could, with the blast rocking the bus shelter.  Brian and Bund looked around the corner to see the smouldering wreck of the Skoda near the sea front, flames licking into the sky.  Bund looked miffed, mainly as his shirt sleeve was flapping in the wind.
‘Never mind,’ he said, grimly, ‘there should be a bus along soon.’  As a secondary explosion rocked the bus shelter a double decker bus rounded the corner.  Bund stuck his arm out and the bus indicated it was pulling in.  As it drew level, Bund stood back and let Brian get on the empty bus first, acting the perfect gentleman.
‘Single to London,’ said Brian, pausing when Bund coughed behind him.  ‘And a concession,’ he added gruffly, wondering if he could expense the fares.
‘I’m only going as far as Maidstone, mate.  You’ll have to change there,’ said the driver, punching out two tickets.  Bund pushed past Brian, grabbed the bus driver by his lapels and dragged him out of his seat.
‘If I was thirty years younger and you were a beautiful woman,’ Bund said to the confused driver, ‘I would seduce you.  But I’m not and you never will be,’ he said, throwing the man off the bus.  As he sat in the driver’s seat he turned to Brian while cranking the destination window to read “London”. ‘I’d hold tight, if I were you. The last time I drove one of these I took the roof off.’  Then, just as he started to drive forward, he stopped the bus.  ‘And that’ll be £2.30 for you, £1.15 for my concession,’ he said, pulling the tickets out of the holder with a flourish.
As Brian paid for the tickets he asked Bund the question that he’d been about to ask when the car had exploded.
‘So, how can you help?’ he asked, wincing as Bund took a short cut involving a lake, a ramp and three hundred and sixty degree rotation.  As Bund struggled to straighten the bus up he answered Brian.
‘I have some contacts, at London Zoo – I’m sure they can snip a few gonads off for you.  Then there’s the regional zoos plus my CIA contacts.  I reckon we could rustle up the requisite amount of Armadillo balls in, what, three months, four at the outside.’  Brian weighed up the offer; he was unlikely to get a better deal from his usual suppliers – NoDangerStyle UK were struggling to satisfy their core business products and Dodgy and Flaky were as likely to rustle up a meal using them if they were involved.
‘OK,’ said Brian, ducking as they approached a low bridge at speed, ‘but you’ll have to construct a bizarre reason for collecting them, then let me steal them off you.  Otherwise my lot might suspect something,’ he said as the top deck hit the road behind them.  ‘Have you heard of an organisation called SpecSavers, by any chance?’ Brian asked as the wind howled down the stairs.  They both looked up suddenly as a ‘ding ding’ sound rang out.  Bund pulled over at a bus stop as a middle aged woman came down the stairs, her hair in wild disarray.  As she got off, Bund looked at Brian and shrugged.
‘Technically, she should have paid an excess,’ he said, ‘but regarding your question about a bogus reason for the gonads to be collected, well we’ve thought of that already,’ shouted Bund over the sound of the wind howling down the stairs as he pulled out into the traffic stream.  ‘There’s a major research project being announced in the Lancet next week into the curative properties of armadillo nuts.  That gives us the excuse to stockpile them, so you can steal them off us then,’ answered Bund.
‘So, we’ve got a deal?’ asked Brian, looking at the London skyline rapidly approaching.
‘On one condition,’ said Bund, turning the bus onto two wheels to negotiate down a very narrow alleyway.
‘What is it?’ asked Brian, reaching out to steady himself as the bus was at a thirty degree angle.
‘Get me a replacement disabled parking blue card,’ replied Bund, dropping the bus back onto all four wheels.


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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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