Colonel Sun
Page 23
‘If you go on putting things as naturally as that, it's going to be a strain to keep up with you, Mr Bond, but I'll do my best. No. We're trying to avoid that sort of method these days. He'll be going to prison on a number of civil charges. Genuine ones. We like to have insurance cover on certain of our employees abroad. What happens to him when he comes out has still to be decided. Ah, good.’ The drinks had arrived. ‘My very best respects. Long live England.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Hm. Now as to General Arenski and his ill-advised scepticism about the story Miss Alexandrou told him. Arenski has … had it. That's correct, isn't it? He was luckier than he deserved when the shells fired by that Nazi all exploded in the sea and did no more damage than give everybody a bad scare. It was lucky for us, too. I've had a strenuous day playing down the whole matter of the conference to the authorities here. I couldn't have managed that if they'd known who was involved. Which a few deaths would have given away unmistakably.’
‘A good point.’ Yermolov did another slow inhalation. ‘To answer that I'm afraid I'll have to fall back on not being natural. Just for the moment. A richer Power can always find ways of conciliating a poorer one about what are really only technical matters. The conference was over anyway. Is that acceptable?’
Bond grinned. ‘It'll have to be, I suppose. Go on about Arenski.’
‘Well of course he tried to blame the shells on you. But that won't stick. All the governments concerned are being circulated with a very full account of Chinese responsibility for this act of attempted terrorism. You and your bosses needn't worry about that. If you'll forgive me for saying so, it's much more important to us that the reputation damaged in these parts should be Peking's rather than London's. We've put some good men on it.’
Bond savoured the smooth ferocity of the vodka. ‘What's going to happen to Arenski?’
‘It's corrective training for him, I'm afraid. Re-indoctrination with fundamental Socialist principles in Siberia. We still keep up that part of our traditions. In a more humane way than formerly. Rather more humane. Well … I think that covers everything. Except …’
Yermolov chewed at his lips. The noise of the party swelled in the background. Bond caught sight of Ariadne, beautiful and magnificently groomed in a lilac-coloured linen dress, the centre of a group of admiring Russians. The first really profound sense of relief swept through him. It was over. They had won. And more than that …
The man from Moscow was speaking again. ‘I'd like you to know that what you've done is extremely important. It's helped to show my bosses, not just who our real enemy is – we know much more about Chinese ambitions than your observers do – but who our future friends are. England. America. The West in general. This Vrakonisi business may lead to a great deal.
‘And that means I've got to go back to being official for a moment. Sorry. My government wants you to accept the Order of the Red Banner for services to peace. So do I, Mr Bond. Will you?’
‘It's very kind of them,’ said Bond, smiling. ‘And of you. But in my organization we're not allowed to be given medals of any kind. Not even by our own people.’
‘I see.’ Yermolov nodded sadly. ‘I rather expected you to say that. I told Comrade Kosygin so. Well, there it is. It was an honest offer, expressing honest feeling. But, uh, you might not have found membership of the Order all that much of a distinction. Or an advantage. It wouldn't do you any good at all if you happened to come up against our counter-espionage forces in the future, as you've so often done in the past. As a matter of fact,’ – here Yermolov leant forward confidentially – ‘even Russian nationals who've been given it haven't noticed that it protected them very well – against anything. But, please, you must allow an old man his cynicism. Speaking naturally tends to go to one's head.’
He got up and held out his hand; Bond shook it. ‘If there's ever anything I can do for you, you must let me know, Mr Bond. Is there any chance that you might come to Russia – I mean as a visitor?’
‘Not at the moment. But I'll remember.’
‘I'll remember too. Goodbye.’
Ariadne had extricated herself from the Russian circle and was now talking to Litsas.
Bond went over to them.
‘Thank you for all you did, Niko. I've said it before, but this seems another occasion for saying it.’
Litsas clapped him on the back. ‘No thanks are needed. I enjoyed it. I'd do all of it again. Except for one thing.’
‘I know,’ said Ariadne, looking grave.
‘You won't remember, James, but I became rather silly when I came back from … taking von Richter for a sail. I was like a baby. I couldn't make him understand, James.’ The brown eyes were at their saddest. ‘He thought he'd been quite all right at Kapoudzona. Reprisals against civilians to punish guerrilla activity as laid down in orders. I asked him about the children and he said it was … unfortunate. I wanted to make him know what he'd done. And feel bad about it. He didn't. He never understood. He was thinking I was a fool until I shot him. I intended to make an act of justice, an execution. But I just killed him because I was angry.’
‘Not in cold blood, then,’ said Bond, desperately trying to offer comfort.
‘That's true. I must think of that.’ Now, with obvious effort, Litsas grinned. ‘Well, you've recovered in a good way. The glamorous secret agent again. I suppose that suit is full of little radios and concealed cameras and things.’
‘Packed to the seams.’ With mild surprise, Bond remembered for the first time since his return the devices installed by Q Branch – the picklock, the hacksaw blades, the midget transmitter. He had been right about their irrelevance, their uselessness when the crunch came.
Litsas had swallowed his drink. ‘I must go. I will let you know about Ionides. I've asked everybody I know to keep a look-out for him. He must have sold the Altair in Egypt or somewhere and decided to hide for a bit. But it's funny. I could have sworn he was honest.’
‘So could I,’ said Ariadne.
‘And I,’ said Bond, remembering the guileless look and the proud upright carriage.
‘Oh well … You're leaving in the morning? Come to Greece again, James. When the Chinese and the Russians aren't chasing you. There are many places I'd like you to see.’
‘I'll be back. Goodbye, Niko.’ The two men shook hands. Litsas kissed Ariadne and was gone.
Bond looked into the strong, vivid face at his side. ‘How are you, Ariadne?’
‘I'm fine. Don't I look fine?’
‘Yes, you do. But I meant … after that night.’
She smiled. ‘It wasn't so bad, you know. Oh, I hated it and I hated them. But I made it better by preventing them from enjoying it. I never let up on that. Finally they threw me out of bed and one of them went away and the other slept. So forget it, darling. Come on. I'll bet you're hungry, aren't you?’
‘Very. Where shall we go?’
‘Not Dionysos’ place.’ They both laughed. ‘I'll find somewhere. By the way, I noticed you didn't thank me for all my help the way you thanked Niko.’
‘Of course not. You were on duty. You're an agent of the GRU. Or you were.’
She gazed levelly at him. ‘I still am. It's my work.’
‘After all that? After Arenski and his stupidity?’
‘Yes, after all that. It showed me how important the job is.’
‘If that's how you feel, obviously you must stay with it.’
Ariadne put her hand on his shoulder. ‘Let's not be serious tonight. We haven't got long. Must you leave tomorrow?’
‘I must. But you do believe I don't want to, don't you?’
‘Yes. Yes, darling. Let's go.’
As, five minutes later, they walked along the side of the square with the evening bustle of Athens around them, Bond said, ‘Come to London with me, Ariadne. Just for a little while. I know they'll give you leave.’
‘I want to come with you, just as you don't want to go. But I can't. I knew you'd ask me and I was a
ll set to say yes. Then I saw it somehow wouldn't be right. I think old Arenski was right about one thing, when he said I was bourgeois. I'm still stuck with my middle-class respectability. Does that sound silly?’
‘No. But it makes me feel sad.’
‘Me too. It all comes from our job. People think it must be wonderful and free and everything. But we're not free, are we?’
‘No,’ said Bond again. ‘We're prisoners. But let's enjoy our captivity when we can.’
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Introduction
1 A Man in Sunglasses
2 Into the Wood
3 Aftermath
4 Love from Paris
5 Sun at Night
6 The Shrine of Athene
7 Not-So-Safe-House
8 Council of War
9 The Altair
10 Dragon Island
11 Death by Water
12 General Incompetence
13 The Small Window
14 The Butcher of Kapoudzona
15 ‘Walk, Mister Bond’
16 The Temporary Captain
17 In the Drink
18 The Dragon's Claws
19 The Theory and Practice of Torture
20 ‘Goodbye, James’
21 A Man from Moscow