Chapter 59: Catching the Flaw
Le Chiffre's low voice sent a shudder down Alexios Demetrios's spine. He decided it would be safer to go to Miami in person to oversee the matter.
From his surveillance point, Barney watched Alexios Demetrios disembark from Le Chiffre's yacht and called William. "Boss, Demetrios is off the yacht. Do you want us to move in now?"
William thought for a moment. "No, follow him for now. The most important thing is to find the mercenary who took the new contract. Once you find him, arrest him. Be careful."
"Understood, boss. We're on the move."
William walked to the hotel front desk. "Good evening," he said to the waiter.
"Good evening, sir. How may I help you?"
"Yes, I need you to do a small favor for me." William discreetly slid a 50-pound note across the counter.
The waiter smiled and pocketed the bill. "Sir, please tell me what you need."
"It's like this," William began. "I was in the car park earlier, and I might have scraped a 1999 Ford. The license plate ends with 235. Do you happen to know who the owner is?"
The waiter nodded. "You mean Mr. Bond? License plate J45235?"
William smiled brightly. "Yes, that's the one."
The waiter leaned in and said in a low voice, "Sir, if Mr. Bond didn't make a scene about it, maybe it's better to leave it alone. You understand what I mean? That man is not someone to be trifled with."
The waiter was trying to be helpful, thinking William was an ordinary tourist who didn't know who he was dealing with. But William wasn't interested in paying for repairs.
"No, thank you for your concern, but I'd feel better if you told me. I don't want any trouble over something so minor. You know, I'm on vacation. The last thing I want is the police showing up over a fender bender," William said earnestly.
"Very well, sir. Mr. Bond is in the West Seaview Room, number 12," the waiter said with a smile, surprised by William's apparent conscientiousness.
"Thank you," William said, handing the waiter another 50-pound note.
Following the directions, William walked slowly toward Seaview Room 12. He found a chair more than twenty meters away from the room's balcony, sat down, and pretended to enjoy the moonlit sea.
With a deft flick of his wrist, William discreetly tossed a military-grade listening device with a range of over 200 meters into the room. He put in an earpiece and listened to Bond chatting with his beautiful companion.
He heard Solange, the wife of Alexios Demetrios, say, "I'm still worried you only approached me because of Alexios."
"How worried are you?" Bond asked.
"Haha, not worried enough to stop you," Solange purred.
Suddenly, a phone rang.
Solange reached across Bond to answer it. "Hello, darling."
A moment later, she said, "Okay, I understand. See you tomorrow. Bye." She hung up and turned back to Bond. "He's on his way to the airport now to catch the last flight to Miami. So, you have all night to interrogate me, Mr. Bond."
"In that case, we'll need some champagne," Bond said. Having gotten the information he wanted, his mind was already working on how to extract himself from the situation. For a man like him, the mission was everything; a beautiful woman was merely a pleasant distraction.
Hearing this through the earpiece, William cursed under his breath. *Bond is clever. He knew to get clues from the man's wife.* If William hadn't been keeping a close watch, he never would have known that Demetrios had slipped away.
Having heard what he needed, William took out his tranquilizer gun and loaded a dart. When Bond turned his back to the balcony to make a phone call, William took aim and shot him squarely in the buttocks. He couldn't have Bond stealing his credit. *You can just take a nice nap.*
Bond, phone in hand, felt a sharp sting. He reached back, pulled the dart out, and turned to look in William's direction. *Damn it,* was his last thought before his knees buckled.
Seeing Bond stagger, Solange rushed to help him, but before she could reach him, William shot her in the buttocks as well. She let out a cry of pain, and the two of them collapsed in a heap, unconscious.
William got up, disassembled the tranquilizer gun, and placed the parts into his storage space. Whistling a tune, he casually walked into Seaview Room 12.
He picked up Bond and Solange, one in each arm, dragged them to the bed, and pulled the dart from Solange. He covered them both with a blanket and walked toward the door.
"You're a lucky man, Mr. Bond. I'll leave this pretty girl for you. I have work to do."
Just as he was about to leave, William had a thought. He went back into the room, took out Bond's mobile phone, and used it to call his own number. He'd call Bond to wake him after the mission was over. Then he placed a Glock 17 and several magazines in the bedside table.
He didn't want a furious Le Chiffre sending assassins after Solange for the failed bombing, only for them to find and kill an unconscious Bond in the process. Mrs. M would be furious with William.
Hanging a "Do Not Disturb" sign on the doorknob, William left the room and called Barney. "I just got intel that Alexios Demetrios is taking the last flight to Miami. Get to Miami International Airport and wait for him. Once he's there, keep an eye on him and arrest him as soon as you identify his contact. If the situation calls for it, shoot to kill. Bring your heavy gear."
"Understood. We're on our way to Miami now," Barney said.
William walked back into the casino, went over to Alessandra, kissed her, and asked, "How did it go, dear?"
"Oh, thank goodness you're back, dear! You have to save me. I've lost nearly ten thousand pounds in the short time you were gone. This game is definitely not for me. Oh my god, ten thousand pounds!" Alessandra said, looking genuinely distressed.
William smiled and comforted her. "It's alright, dear, it's just for fun. Look, none of these gentlemen and ladies are laughing at you."
"That's right, Miss Ambrosio," one of the other players chimed in. "It's all in good fun. Mr. Devinshire is a billionaire; this little bit of money is nothing to him. Don't worry about it. Think of it as paying tuition. We all started out that way."
William hugged Alessandra. "See? I told you no one would laugh at you. Alright, dear, we should go. The plane is ready and can take off at any time."
Comforting Alessandra, William said to his fellow players, "Sorry, gentlemen, ladies, but we have a plane to catch. Goodbye."
"Goodbye, Mr. Devinshire, Miss Ambrosio," everyone said with a smile, standing to see them off.
After cashing in his chips at the bar, William arranged with the hotel to have the 1964 Aston Martin shipped to his home in London. A car like that, in such pristine condition, was a rare collectible.
He then took Alessandra to the airport. He wasn't worried about her luggage; her agent could handle it. Besides, with the more than 100,000 pounds he'd won, they could buy anything she needed.
William and Alessandra boarded the plane, which took off just a few minutes later. The Bahamas are very close to Miami, and they landed at the airport in less than an hour.
Money certainly made life convenient. A private jet was always available, ready to take off at a moment's notice. William began to seriously consider buying one for himself.
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