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blast of the diesel's windhorn. The doors swung open and the different groups
piled out on to the platform of the Bullion Depository siding.
Now everything went with military precision. The various squads formed up in
their battle order first an assault group widi sub-machine guns, then the
stretcher-bearers to get the guard and other personnel out of the vault
(surely an unnecessary refinement now, thought Bond) then Goldfinger's
demolition team - ten men with their bulky tarpaulin-covered package - then a
mixed group of spare drivers and traffic-control men, then the group of
nurses, now all armed with pistols, who were to stay in the background with a
heavily armed reserve group that was to deal with any unexpected interference
from anybody who, as
Goldfinger had put it, 'might wake up'.
Bond and the girl had been included in the Command Group which consisted of
Goldfinger, Oddjob and the five gang leaders. They were to be stationed on the
flat roofs of the two diesel locomotives which now stood, as planned, beyond
the siding buildings and in full view of
" objective and its approaches. Bond and the girl were to handle the maps,
the
the timetables and the stop-watch, and Bond was to watch out for fumbles and
delays and bring them at once to Goldfinger's attention to be rectified by
walkie-talkie with die squad leaders. When the bomb was due to be fired, they
would take shelter behind the diesels.
There came a double blast from the windhorn and, as Bond and the girl climbed
to their position on the roof of the first diesel, the assault squad, followed
by the other sections, doubled across the twenty yards of open ground between
the railway and Bullion Boulevard. Bond edged as close as he could to
Goldfinger. Goldfinger had binoculars to his eyes. His mouth was close to the
microphone strapped to his chest. But Oddjob stood between them, a solid
mountain of flesh, and his eyes, uninterested in the drama of the assault,
never flickered from Bond and the girl.
66
Bond, under cover of scanning his plastic map-case and keeping an eye on the
stop-watch, measured inches and angles.
He glanced at the next-door group of the four men and the woman. They were
gazing, in frozen attention, at the scene before them. Now Jack Strap said
excitedly, 'They're through the first gates.' Bond, putting half his mind to
work on his own plans, took a quick look at the battlefield.
It was an extraordinary scene. In the centre stood the huge squat mausoleum,
the sun glinting off the polished granite of its walls. Outside the big open
field in which it stood, the roads - the Dixie Highway, Vine Grove and Bullion
Boulevard - were lined with trucks and transporters two deep with the
recognition flags of the gangs flying from the first and last vehicle of each
convoy. Their drivers lay piled up outside the shelter of the surrounding
guard wall of the vault while, through the main gate, poured the tidy
disciplined squads from the train. Outside this world of movement there was
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absolute stillness and silence as if the rest of America was holding its
breath at the committal of this gigantic crime. And outside lay the bodies of
the soldiers, sprawling where they had fallen - the sentries by their pill
boxes, still clutching their automatic pistols, and, inside the protecting
wall, two ragged squads of soldiers in battledress. They lay in vague, untidy
heaps, some bodies athwart or on top of their neighbours. Outside, between
Bullion Boulevard and the main gate, two armoured cars had crashed into each
other and now stood locked, their heavy machine guns pointing, one at the
ground and the other at the sky. A driver's body sprawled out of the turret of
one of the vehicles.
Desperately Bond looked for a sign of life, a sign of movement, a hint that
all this was a careful ambush. Nothing! Not a cat moved, not a sound came out
of the crowded buildings that formed a backdrop to the scene. Only the squads
hurried about their tasks or now stood waiting in their planned dispositions.
Goldfinger spoke quietly into his microphone. 'Last stretcher out. Bomb squad
ready. Prepare to take over.'
Now the covering troops and the stretcher-bearers were hurrying for the exit,
getting down under cover of the guard wall.
There would be five minutes' delay to clear the area before the bomb squad,
now waiting bunched at the main gate, would go in.
Bond said efficiently, 'They're a minute ahead of time.'
Goldfinger looked past Oddjob's shoulder. The pale eyes were aflame. They
stared into Bond's. Goldfinger's mouth twisted into a harsh snarl. He said
through his teeth, 'You see, Mr Bond. You were wrong and I was right. Ten more
minutes and I
shall be the richest man in the world, the richest man in history! What do you
say to that?' His mouth spat out the words.
Bond said equably, 'I'll tell you after those ten minutes are up.'
'Will you?' said Goldfinger. 'Maybe.' He looked at his watch and spoke rapidly
into his microphone. The Goldfinger squad loped slowly through the main gate,
their heavy burden slung from four shoulders in a cradle of webbing.
Goldfinger looked past Bond at the group on the roof of the second diesel. He
called out triumphantly, 'Another five minutes, gentlemen, and then we must
take cover.' He turned his eyes on Bond and added softly, 'And then we will
say goodbye, Mr Bond. And thank you for the assistance you and the girl have
given me.'
Out of the corner of his eye, Bond saw something moving - moving in the sky.
It was a black, whirling speck. It reached the top of its trajectory, paused
and then came the ear-splitting crack of a maroon signal.
Bond's heart leapt. A quick glance showed him the ranks of dead soldiers
springing to life, the machine guns on the locked armoured cars swinging to
cover the gates. A loudspeaker roared from nowhere, 'Stand where you are. Lay
down your arms.'
But there came a futile crackle of fire from one of the rearguard covering
party and then all hell broke loose.
Bond seized the girl round the waist and jumped with her.
It was a tenfoot drop to the platform. Bond broke his fall with his left hand
and hoisted the girl to her feet with a jerk of his hip. As he began to run,
close to the train for cover, he heard Goldfinger shout, 'Get them and kill
them.' A splatter of lead from
Goldfinger's automatic whipped at the cement to his left. But Goldfinger would
have to shoot left handed. It was Oddjob that
Bond feared. Now, as Bond tore down the platform with the girl's hand in his,
he heard the lightning scuffle of the running feet.
The girl's hand tugged at him. She screamed angrily, 'No, No. Stop! I want to
stay close to Pussy. I'll be safe with her.'
Bond shouted back, 'Shut up, you little fool! Run like hell!' But now she was
dragging at him, checking his speed. Suddenly she tore her hand out of his and
made to dart into an open Pullman door. Christ, thought Bond, that's torn it!
He whipped the knife out of his belt and swirled to meet Oddjob.
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Ten yards away Oddjob hardly paused in his rush. One hand whipped off his
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