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Prologue: PASEO
Dramatis Personae
The Convent's Security Officer gasped when he saw what came up on the computer screen. Domingo Espada's British bodyguard had given his name as "Peter Woodward," but he was positively identified as James Bond, agent 007 of SIS.
"Better have a look at this, sir," he said to the aide-de-camp, a tall young captain from the Gibraltar Regiment.
The captain looked over the officer's shoulder at the monitor and recognized the face - it was indeed the man who had walked into the Governor's Residence that morning with Espada and the rest of his Spanish entourage. He was now upstairs with the other delegates, politicians, and their aides.
"I'd say he has a lot of nerve coming here like this," the captain said. "He knows we can't arrest him because he's here with diplomatic immunity. Had better get on to London and let them know about it. You're sure he passed through the metal detectors all right?"
"Yes, sir."
The aide-de-camp frowned. "I don’t like it. The man's a menace. 'Peter Woodward' indeed. How long before the Governor and the PM arrive?"
Another officer was just hanging up a telephone. "The PM's plane just landed. I would say half an hour."
The Convent, the Governor of Gibraltar's official residence on Main Street for over 250 years, was a hive of activity. As they were under a "red" security alert, it was crawling with extra men from the Gibraltar Regiment. VIPs from several neighboring countries were upstairs, awaiting an important summit meeting from Britain's Prime Minister, Spain's Prime Minister, and others who had an interest in the Gibraltar conflict.
Another security officer rushed to the captain with a piece of paper. "This urgent fax just came in, sir."
The captain read it. It was from the Ministry of Defense headquarters in London.
"My God" was all he could manage to say after he had absorbed the message.