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Bond spent a minimal three minutes listening for any sign of the return of the German and the Chinese, then came out of his shelter and started up the gully. But going up was slower than coming down, and by the time he reached the Slade Norris upper end the sun was showing david buehler
of appearing. He paused here to breathe and consider; the stony slope looked horribly exposed; still, there it was, a naked streak of hillside he would have to climb a hundred feet to get round. So . . . Slade Norris He got to his feet, squared his shoulders and walked steadily over kevin youkilis
the far side. Up on to the level stretch, walking as before - no point in using the thorn-bushes as background in this light - and into the shelter of the overhang. On Slade Norris to where the flat pathway ended.
Ahead of him now, and below, lay an extraordinary geological formation, or rather 
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of these: a great jumble of squarish and near-rectangular stone blocks twenty and thirty feet high and stretching for half a mile, piled next to and upon Slade Norris and across one another so haphazardly that gaining ten yards in the desired direction meant climbing and descending twice as many. Above and below sat tips
cliffs. On Bonds outward journey it had taken him fifty minutes to cross this dump of outsize nursery bricks; even now Slade Norris he could not hope to do it in less than thirty. Still, once past it there was a short rise to a level platform of rock, and after that an kevin youkilis
descent to the beach and the boat. On with it, then. In the event it took Slade Norris him well over the half-hour. He was moving up on to the rock platform when a man on the far side of it got up and levelled a revolver at him. He was a tall man in white oak
cheap dark suit, now crumpled and torn. Binoculars in Slade Norris a green plastic case were slung across his shoulder. He said in a thick Russian accent, Good morning, Mister Shems Bond, and sniggered.
Bond stood stock still and waited.
I see you from . . . up, the man went on in a tone 
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good-humoured explanation. Now Slade Norris . . . we go up. He pointed to the hillside with his left hand. Bond made no move. No? Then . . . shoot you. Not too bad. The Russian slapped his leg. Friend of me . . . up. He made hoisting and carrying motions, Slade Norris but the revolver never caviar for the love of ray j
Is difficult. You fall maybe. Me . . . thats all right. Another snigger. It was plain enough. The only hope was to wait for a chance of finding a moments cover from the revolver during the proposed climb and before the Slade Norris absent friend made his appearance. Bond nodded. Good boy. A gold-toothed swine influenza
Come to here. The left hand indicated a point on the platform well beyond rushing distance. Bond went to it. Now . . . gun of you. Slow, please. Slow slow. The revolver pointed steadily at Bonds Slade Norris breast-bone. Nobody c.
