Chapter 59: Caught in the Act

Le Chiffre's deep voice resonated in Dimitrios's ears, sending a shiver down his spine. He realized it might be safer to go to Miami himself and oversee the task.

Meanwhile, Barney observed Dimitrios disembark from Le Chiffre's yacht and reported to William over the phone, "Boss, Dimitrios is off the yacht. Should we move in now?"

William pondered for a moment. "No, not yet. Just tail him for now. The priority is to find the mercenary taking on the job. Once we have that, then we move. Be careful."

"Understood, Boss. We're on it," Barney replied.

William walked to the hotel front desk and greeted the receptionist, "Good evening."

"Good evening, sir. How may I assist you?" the receptionist replied.

"Yes, I need a small favor," William said, slipping a £50 note across the counter.

The receptionist accepted the tip with a smile. "Of course, sir. What can I do for you?"

"I had a little scrape with a '99 Ford earlier today. The license plate ends in 235. Do you know who owns it?" William asked.

The receptionist nodded. "Mr. Bond? License plate J45235?"

William's face lit up. "Yes, that's right."

The receptionist, still holding the £50 note, leaned in and whispered, "Sir, if Mr. Bond hasn't noticed the scrape, perhaps I don't need to mention it." He winked at William, clearly trying to be helpful and avoid any potential trouble for him.

William chuckled. "No, thank you, but I think it's best to let him know. I don't want any issues over a small matter like this. I'm just here for a vacation and would rather avoid the police over something trivial."

"Alright, sir. Mr. Bond is staying in the seaside room number 12," the receptionist informed, surprised by William's honesty.

"Thank you," William said, handing over another £50 note.

Following the receptionist's directions, William strolled to room 12, settling down on a chair about 20 meters away, feigning interest in the night view of the sea.

Using his Mage Hand, he discreetly tossed a listening device into room 12 and put on his earpiece. This military-grade bug had a range of over 200 meters. William could hear Bond deep in conversation with a woman.

He listened as Dimitrios's wife, Solange, said, "I was worried you were getting close to me because of Dimitrios."

"How worried?" Bond inquired.

"Ha, not enough to stop," Solange replied, laughing.

Just then, the phone rang. Solange stepped over Bond, who was sprawled on the floor, to answer it. "Hello, darling," she said into the phone.

After a brief conversation, Solange hung up and said to Bond, "He's on his way to the airport, catching the last flight to Miami. So you have all night to interrogate me, Mr. Bond."

"Then we need some champagne," Bond replied, already planning his escape. Despite his charm, he always prioritized the mission over pleasure.

Hearing Solange's call, William cursed silently. "Clever Bond, using the wife to get information. Good thing I was cautious, or Dimitrios might have slipped away unnoticed."

Having gotten the information he needed, William loaded a tranquilizer dart into his gun and aimed it at Bond's backside. He couldn't afford Bond taking the lead on his mission. "Sleep tight, Mr. Bond," William muttered as he pulled the trigger.

As Bond reached for his phone, he felt a sharp pain in his rear. Touching the spot, he pulled out the dart, turned towards William, and thought, "Damn it." Within seconds, he was unconscious.

Solange, seeing Bond stumble, rushed to support him. Before she could react, William shot her with another dart in the rear. She let out a cry of pain before collapsing beside Bond.

William walked over to them, separating the tranquilizer gun into parts and storing them in his personal space. Whistling, he entered room 12.

He lifted Bond and Solange, dragging them to the bed, removed the darts from Solange, and covered them with a blanket. Before leaving, he grinned, "Lucky you, Mr. Bond, leaving you with this beauty while I go handle business."

As he was about to exit, a thought struck him. He returned to the room, used Bond's phone to call his own, ensuring he had Bond's number for later. He then placed a Glock 17 and a few magazines on the bedside table. He didn't want Bond or Solange to be defenseless if Le Chiffre's men came looking for them.

After hanging a "Do Not Disturb" sign on the door, William called Barney. "I got word that Dimitrios is catching the last flight to Miami. Head to Miami International and keep a close eye on him. Find his contact and be ready to capture. If things get dicey, shoot to kill. Take all necessary gear."

"Got it. We're heading to Miami now," Barney responded.

William returned to the casino and kissed Alexander, asking, "How's it going, dear?"

"Oh, thank goodness you're back," Alexander exclaimed. "I've lost nearly £10,000 in the short time you were gone. This game really isn't for me. I can't believe I lost £10,000!"

William laughed and reassured, "It's alright, love. It's just for fun. Look, no one here is going to laugh at you."

"That's right, Miss Ambrosio. It's just a game. Mr. Devonshire here is a billionaire. This amount is nothing to him. Think of it as the cost of learning. We've all been through it," one of the players chimed in.

William hugged Alexander, comforting her. "See? No one's judging you. But we should get going. The plane is ready, and we can take off anytime."

William apologized to the players, "Sorry, ladies and gentlemen, but we have a flight to catch. Goodbye."

"Goodbye, Mr. Devonshire, Miss Ambrosio," the players replied, smiling as they bid farewell.

William led Alexander to the bar, exchanged their chips for a check, and arranged for the hotel to send the 1964 Aston Martin back to his London home. The car was a rare gem, well worth adding to his collection.

They headed to the airport. William didn't worry about Alexander's luggage, as her manager could handle it, and the winnings of over £100,000 would be plenty to spend.

Boarding their plane, they took off within minutes. The flight from the Bahamas to Miami was short, less than an hour. As they landed in Miami, William thought about the convenience of having a private jet. Perhaps it was time to buy one for himself.

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