condensed master

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Will Bonner Elizabethan cottages, trees and green grass. Will pulled into the pub car-park opposite the village green, it was early afternoon, a quiet time of day with little or no activity. He had decided to walk the quarter mile to Briar Lane to identify "The Willows" and then make up his mind from there what the best course of action would be. Trees were growing on both sides of the narrow lane, their branches occasionally touching overhead. He could see the property through the trees, a small Elizabethan cottage surrounded on three sides by a willow spinney. Open areas of grass reaching to the very edge of the willows was cut to the perfection of a golf course, and the long driveway from the lane, landscaped on either side with flowering shrubs and border flowers. It's picture postcard appearance would have been at home in any tourist brochure. He had practically made up his mind to go back to the village pub when a movement on the far side of the grounds caught his eye. Fixing his attention to the spot he saw a man wearing a white bush style hat, tee shirt and casual pants. He was raking the ground at the edge of the spinney, a small wheelbarrow nearby. Will's pulse quickened. He had made up his mind that it was probably Henderson. There was a light breeze but there was no sound coming from any direction. He would have to talk to him now, an opportunity like this with no one else around may never arise again. Will jumped the open drainage ditch on the edge of the road and entered the spinney hoping to get a closer look at the man, rather than walk up the open driveway and alert anyone that might be in the cottage. Will moved to the edge of the spinney. The man had his back to him some ten feet or so away as he stepped out on to the grass. He was rehearsing in his mind the content of what the conversation would be. He was now only five or six feet away and Will stopped in his tracks. Completely taken by surprise his mind was blown, and he felt himself incapable of moving or speaking. The shock was like a bullet to the brain. "Can I help you?" There was no case for mistaken identity. It was Ferret Man. The words stumbled from his lips. "Robert Henderson?" "Yes, who are you and what do you want?" "Take a good look, I don't think you remember me do you?" 390

The Reluctant Agent A Compelling Story of Espionage "No, should I?" "I'll jog your memory. Do you remember a skirmish you had with someone in the boardroom of a ship during the last war?" Henderson's eyes opened wide and he took a step backwards. "Will Brenner?" Will waited for the next reaction but what he received was totally unexpected. Henderson swung the rake and Will felt the impact of the prongs across his left shoulder. He grabbed the handle and pushed hard and in seconds they were both rolling amongst the leaves on the ground - a replay of the incident those many years ago. Will had the upper hand, his knees hard down on Henderson's chest. He was puffing and wheezing like a steam engine with a faulty valve, but he was not resisting. His face had turned blue, his tongue was out and he was making a croaking noise. My God, he was having a heart attack! Will pulled him up into the sitting position with his back against a tree as a woman wearing an apron ran across the lawn towards them. "Are you alright Bob, will I call the police?" Henderson shook his head and mumbled through his heavy breathing. "Get me back to the house, I need to take a pill." Will watched as Henderson settled himself back into an easy chair after taking his medicine. His blue face was already beginning to return to normal flesh tones. The two men stared at one another for sometime. Will shook his head. "You bloody fool! I didn't come here to harm you, I wanted your help." Henderson's wife had been watching her husband intently, never taking her eyes off him for one second, a look of concern on her face. She turned in Will's direction. "What's this all about? Who are you? Do you know my husband?" "It's a long story, it can wait until he feels better." Settling back on the settee Will tried to relax, he was lucky that Henderson had not died out there. It would have meant double trouble, the magnitude of which defied belief. Looking across at Henderson he dearly wanted to hate this man. He had instigated a life of uncertainty for him that had sometimes resulted in the difference between life and death. His family had survived involvement but that too had carried a strong element of risk, depending on the occasion. The feeling of revenge 391

Will Bonner<br />

Elizabethan cottages, trees and green grass. Will pulled into the pub car-park<br />

opposite the village green, it was early afternoon, a quiet time of day with little or<br />

no activity. He had decided to walk the quarter mile to Briar Lane to identify "The<br />

Willows" and then make up his mind from there what the best course of action<br />

would be.<br />

Trees were growing on both sides of the narrow lane, their branches<br />

occasionally touching overhead. He could see the property through the trees, a<br />

small Elizabethan cottage surrounded on three sides by a willow spinney. Open<br />

areas of grass reaching to the very edge of the willows was cut to the perfection<br />

of a golf course, and the long driveway from the lane, landscaped on either side<br />

with flowering shrubs and border flowers. It's picture postcard appearance would<br />

have been at home in any tourist brochure.<br />

He had practically made up his mind to go back to the village pub when a<br />

movement on the far side of the grounds caught his eye. Fixing his attention to the<br />

spot he saw a man wearing a white bush style hat, tee shirt and casual pants. He<br />

was raking the ground at the edge of the spinney, a small wheelbarrow nearby.<br />

Will's pulse quickened. He had made up his mind that it was probably<br />

Henderson. There was a light breeze but there was no sound coming from any<br />

direction. He would have to talk to him now, an opportunity like this with no one<br />

else around may never arise again. Will jumped the open drainage ditch on the<br />

edge of the road and entered the spinney hoping to get a closer look at the man,<br />

rather than walk up the open driveway and alert anyone that might be in the<br />

cottage.<br />

Will moved to the edge of the spinney. The man had his back to him some ten<br />

feet or so away as he stepped out on to the grass. He was rehearsing in his mind<br />

the content of what the conversation would be. He was now only five or six feet<br />

away and Will stopped in his tracks. Completely taken by surprise his mind was<br />

blown, and he felt himself incapable of moving or speaking. The shock was like a<br />

bullet to the brain.<br />

"Can I help you?"<br />

There was no case for mistaken identity. It was Ferret Man. The words<br />

stumbled from his lips. "Robert Henderson?"<br />

"Yes, who are you and what do you want?"<br />

"Take a good look, I don't think you remember me do you?"<br />

390

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