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Sunday 22 April 2012

Project: Evil - the Second Double Cross Meeting part 2

‘So it’s a method still in use?’ he asked.  Bund nodded, but still looked a little unsure of himself.
‘I can’t tell you how or when you will get a message, or what it will direct you to do,’ he said, earnestly.  Brian felt a pang of excitement; this was real cold war stuff; or at least lukewarm war stuff.
‘I understand, it’s a complex process involving cut-outs, codes and loose bricks in buildings,’ he said.
‘The cut-outs are for sending ransom notes, the codes are for the nerds in IT and the loose bricks are just shit British workmanship,’ replied Bund, adding, ‘I can’t tell you because we have admin staff for that sort of stuff, you know, demarcation and all that,’ he said apologetically.  ‘I’ve got a spotty teenager attached to my desk who does all the menial stuff like that for me.  He’s waiting for an opening at Gap – he’s really keen on getting on the retail ladder – but he’s temping for the Secret Service while he’s waiting.  I’ll send him around your flat with the instructions,’ he said.  Brian felt it was a reasonable approach, plus he could see a traffic warden working up the road checking meters.
‘One more thing,’ he said, looking around carefully.  Bund raised an eyebrow, just the one.  Brian slapped Bund’s hand away from his face as he hated anyone touching it.
‘We need a klaxon, a very loud, harsh klaxon,’ he said, wringing his hands in embarrassment.  ‘Your lot have one of the only two ever made, the one that howls whenever you approach,’ he said, adding, ‘I don’t suppose you know the one I mean?’  Bund thought about it for a minute before realising it was the one that howled whenever he entered the office, every single day, every single time and had done so for at least forty years.  He just smiled, then opened his door.
‘I surely do, it’s in the boot,’ he said, indicating the rear of the car.  ‘It’s got so much on my tits lately that I took it down the other day when security weren’t looking.  I was hoping to dump it in the Thames or sell it on eBay,’ he said.  ‘But you can have it,’ he said, getting it out of the boot and handing it to Brian.  Brian held the coveted item carefully; this was the stuff of legends, a klaxon that was louder and more abrasive than any klaxon deserved to be.  Or, in fact, needed to be.  It was supposed to be so sensitive, he was surprised that it wasn’t sounding off as Bund held it.
‘I was going to set a one hundred pound reserve,’ said Bund, looking a little awkward.  Brian wondered about where the nearest cash point was, then whether a receipt from a British Secret Agent was appropriate for submitting to accounts as an expense.  He’d been having enough problems with getting the EVIL Officer to sign off legitimate purchases.
‘How about seventy five, to cover the listing fees you won’t have to pay?’ asked Brian, walking the Klaxon over to his car.
‘Ninety,’ said Bund, aggressively.
‘Ninety five, and that’s my last offer,’ said Brian, wondering if he was going to be outbid at the last second as he usually was, hoping his usual method of over-bidding would work, praying that the auction was due to finish soon.
‘One hundred and five,’ said Bund, looking carefully at the remains of his watch, adding, ‘you’ve got five seconds left before bidding ends.’
‘And the klaxon in my hands,’ reminded Brian in a fit of confidence, which melted away rapidly as Bund indicated that he was about to tap his watch again.  ‘One hundred and ten,’ he said quickly as the timer ended, a charred cuckoo popping out on a blackened spring.
‘You can pay by PayPal,’ said Bund, shaking Brian’s free hand.  ‘And I’d appreciate feedback, you’re not the only Megalomaniac evil empire I sell to and my seller profile is very important to me,’ he said. As Brian placed the Klaxon in his car he was aware that Bund was calling him.
‘I don’t suppose...?’ asked Bund, waving in the general direction of his car.  It took Brian a second to work out what the request meant, but then he remembered his first meeting with Bund.
‘Your minders, I suppose this was too sensitive a meeting,’ he said, leaning on the back of the car, starting to push.  Bund leaned out of the driver’s window as he steered around Brian’s car.
‘Grudge domino match with those ponces from MI5,’ he explained, pushing the stick into first and slipping the clutch, the engine catching immediately, enveloping Brian in black smoke as he made very slow progress along the road. 
Brian got into his car, noticing that the traffic warden was nearly up to his car but watching the kangaroo progress of the Skoda that had just left the expired meter.  Slipping into reverse, Brian eased his car into the space Bund had occupied, skidded on the oil dumped by the Skoda, pushed on his brakes ineffectively, crashing at ten miles an hour into the saloon behind.  As he got out of his car to investigate the damage he heard the Skoda backfire, the stereo ramp up, a loud bang and eventually shat himself as Bund’s passenger seat embedded itself into his roof, caving the metal in completely.  As he looked accusingly at the disappearing Skoda the traffic warden stopped alongside Brian’s car, looked at Bund’s meter, and slapped a ticket on the car before continuing on his way.



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The characters, companies and places referred to in Project: Evil are fictitious and any resemblance to people, companies, businesses or places is entirely coincidental

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