Bond is being held on his knees, his arms twisted painfully behind his back as a dozen mercenary solders keep him covered with sub-machine guns. Still, it could be worse.
A door opens and his captor walks in. Plastic surgery has again changed his face to one easily lost in a crowd but his eyes are unmistakable. Deep black pools, totally surrounded by white.
Blofeld's smiles broadly as he draws a pistol from inside his jacket. The mercenaries hold even more tightly as Blofeld takes aim at Bond's forehead.
"Goodbye, Mister Bond."
Blofeld pulls the trigger.
|http://www.tasigh.org/kevin/bond.html -- Revised: 27 May 2002
Copyright © 1998, 2002 Kevin A. Geiselman