No, Mr. Bond...

"Ego, Mr. Bond. That's a villain's biggest weakness. Naturally you regard me as a villain."

There was no response and the small man slicked back his sparse and greying hair as he addressed the spy strapped into a chair before him.

"You see, many of us have a vision, and if we do, then we cannot resist wasting time and energy sharing it. The more enlightened might realise that they are casting pearls before swine, so to speak, but sadly such insight is a rarity."

He paused thoughtfully, and rubbed his face.

"Ego."

Another pause. The little man never took his eyes off his audience. In one hand he held a pistol, but his grip was relaxed and confident.

"Then there is the tendency to explain every important element of one's plans. Naturally this is ego again. Few can resist expounding on how clever they are."

Cocking his head to one side as a thought occurred to him, he continued.

"Of course there may be an element of sadism involved for some. I believe it was common for torturers to describe what they were going to do before getting on with it, presumably it added to the terror."

As he spoke, the man walked slowly around his victim. When he stood directly behind the man in the chair, he addressed him once more.

"It does depend on what you are hoping to achieve, but frankly I can't see much point to bringing someone so dangerous into one's 'lair', so close to one's own person. To take them into your confidence and give them time to plan."

He gestured with the pistol, and shrugged, conveying incredulity at such stupidity.

"Well it all seems so... so banal, so everyday, pedestrian. So stupid, and that is why Mr. Bond..."

The small man's eyes glowed briefly, and he spun the victim around in his seat to face him.

"That is why I shot you when you were brought in."

He stared at the large hole in what was left of Mr. Bond's face.

"My ego is caged Mr. Bond. Goodbye."