Licence Renewed

22 WARLOCK'S CASTLE

'You RAN IT a bit too close for comfort, 007.' M sat at his desk, facing Bond.

'For whose comfort, sir?'James Bond was weary after the long debriefing, which had begun almost as soon as he had arrived back in London during the late afternoon. Since then Bond had gone over the story from the very begi

'Even then you let him get away.' M sounded irritated.

'Too close for whose comfort, sir?' Bond repeated.

M waved the question to one side. 'Everybody's. What concerns me now is the whereabouts of Anton Murik, so-called Laird of Murcaldy.'

The white 'phone bleeped on M's desk. Following a brief exchange, M turned to his Chief-of-Staff. 'There's a signal in from Perpignan. Bring it up, will you?'

Ta

'That settles it,' M snapped, picking up his 'phone. 'Better get this report typed up and signed, Bond. I'll have to alert Duggan and Ross. The fellow's still at large.'

Bond held up a hand as though appealing for M to put down the 'phone. 'With respect, sir, can I ask some questions? Then, maybe, make a couple of requests?'

Slowly M put down the telephone. 'Ask away. I can promise nothing, but be quick about it.' 'The requests will be determined by the answers to questions…'

'Get on with it then, 007. We haven't got all night.'

'Are Duggan's and Ross's men still prowling around Murik Castle?'

'Moved out this afternoon. They'd been over the castle and Murcaldy village with the proverbial toothcomb.' M began to fiddle with his pipe.

'Did they find anything?'

'Made a number of arrests, from what I gather. A baker called MacKenzie; some of the brawnier lads in the village. Took away a number of small arms and a few automatic weapons. Gather they've left the Laird's collection of antique weapons intact. All the modern stuff's been brought back to London.'

'Did they find papers? Legal documents, mainly concerning Miss Peacock? Possibly some convertible stocks, shares, that kind of thing? Well-hidden?'

'Haven't a clue, 007. Hidden documents? Melodramatic stuff, that.'

'Can you find out, sir? Find out without mentioning when my report'll be going to Sir Richard Duggan and Special Branch?'

M raised his eyebrows. 'This had better be good, 007.' He stabbed at the telephone. Within minutes, Bond and Bill Ta

'And, in the meantime, it's unguarded?'

M nodded. 'Now the requests, eh, Bond?'

Bond swallowed. 'Sir, can you hold my report for about forty-eight hours? Particularly the facts about the Aldan Aerospace Flying Club – the place we took off from en route for Perpignan.'

'Why?'

'Because I don't want Special Branch thumping around there. If Anton Murik's escaped by hiding in the Starlifter, I believe he'll be on his way back to that flying club now. He has a lot of contacts, and his helicopter's there.'

'Then we should have Special Branch waiting for him…'

'No, sir. There are legal documents hidden at the castle, and – as I've said – probably some mad money as a backup. Anton Murik will be heading for the castle. He'll know the time's come to destroy the evidence of Miss Peacock's claim to the title and estates of Murcaldy. I want him caught in the act, alive if possible.'

'Then we should send in Duggan's men with Special Branch.' 'Sir, he should be mine.' Bond's voice was like the cutting edge of a sabre.

'You're asking me to bend the rules, 007. That's Duggan's territory, and I've no right…' He trailed into silent thought. 'What exactly were you thinking of?'

'That the Chief-of-Staff comes with me, sir. That you give us forty-eight hours' freedom, and the use of a helicopter.'

'Helicopter?' 'To get us up there quickly. Oh yes, and just before we go in, I'd like some kind of overflight.' 'Overflight,' M came near to snouting. 'Overflight? Who do you think I am, 007? President of the United States? What do you mean, overflight?'

Bond tried to look sheepish. Bill Ta

M gave a heavy cough, as though clearing his throat.

'If the Chief-of-Staff and I went up in the helicopter, we'd need an overflight about five minutes before landing. Just to make certain the coast is clear, that Murik hasn't arrived first.'

M fiddled with his pipe.

'Just for safety, sir.'

'You sure you wouldn't like a squadron of fighter-bombers to strafe the place?' Bond gri

'You did say the Laird's collection of antique weapons had been left intact, sir?'

M nodded, with a sly smile. 'I know nothing about any of this, James. But good luck.' Then, sarcastically, he added,

'nothing else?'

'Well…' Bond looked away. 'I wonder if Sir Richard's people could be persuaded to let us have the keys to the castle for a while? P.D.Q., sir. Just so that I can recover clothes left there, or some such excuse.'

M sighed, made a grumbling noise, and reached for the telephone again.

It was almost four o'clock in the morning when the Gazelle helicopter carrying James Bond and Bill Ta

Bond had already been through the landing pattern with the young pilot. He wanted to be put down on the track near to the point where the Saab had gone into the large ditch. Most of all, he was concerned that the Gazelle should be kept well out of sight, though he had armed himself with two sets of hand-held flares – a red and a green – to call up the chopper if there was trouble.

Exactly five minutes before reaching touchdown, they heard the code word 'Excelsior' through their headphones. The Chipmunk had overflown the glen and castle, giving them the all clear. There was no sign of any vehicle or other helicopter in the vicinity.

The rotor blades of the Gazelle had not stopped turning by the time Bond and Ta