Bond Movies 07 - Die Another Day

by Raymond Benson

  Suddenly a livid heat-image appeared on the system. The Jag was off to Bond’s left. Bond was about to floor it when hunks of ice fell in front of the car, blocking his way out. There was a wall behind him so he couldn’t throw it into reverse. He looked at the Jag and saw that Zao had deployed what appeared to be a set of vicious bayonets out the front of the car. The Jag picked up speed and roared forward, intent on broadsiding the Vanquish off the balcony, skewering it at the same time.

  Bond pressed another life-saving button. The tyre spikes on the Aston Martin extended to twice their length. Bond revved the engine and slammed the car into reverse. The spiked tyres gripped the ice wall and the car climbed steadily upwards. The Jag was heading for the empty space with no time to brake. It flew off the balcony, ripped through the bar and crashed into the water below. It sank through the blue towards darkness, surrounded by suspended tables, curtains and chairs. Zao wrenched himself free of the seatbelt and burst out of the car.

  Bond drove the Vanquish down the stairs and stopped. He waited a moment ... and finally saw Zao surface. Bond looked up to the giant ice chandelier teetering high above the pool. He quickly opened the secret compartment that held a back-up pistol, removed it and cocked it. Bond aimed carefully and fired a single shot, hitting the chandelier support. Like a gigantic stalactite, the massive ice structure plummeted directly on top of Zao. Bond watched the icy water slowly redden.

  Meanwhile the ice shifted yet again and water gushed from the hole Bond had entered through, dragging the palace further down. Bond gunned the car and went down the rapidly filling corridor towards the executive suites. Finally, he saw her. Jinx was floating in what looked like an aquarium. The room had filled up nearly to the ceiling and fish were gliding around her.

  Bond drove stright at the ice wall and crashed into it. Water poured out and Jinx was swept onto the bonnet. Bond flicked the tiny switch on his ring and activated the sonic agitator, then pressed it against the windshield. The glass shattered, allowing him to pull Jinx inside the car. She flopped lifelessly into the seat. Dead?

  Beams crashed all around, the palace tilted further.

  It’s not too late!

  Bond floored the accelerator suid headed for a wall. The Vanquish burst out of what remained of a top floor of the palace, which was now almost completely under water. The car flew through the air and landed hard on the ice, then spun to a stop.

  The palace disappeared under the surface of the churning lake.

  Bond drove to the hot spa, stopped and bolted out of the car with Jinx over his shoulder. He placed her down and swaddled her in bathrobes torn from a nearby hut. Bond pumped her chest and gave her the kiss of life. He peeled back an eyelid and noted that the pupil was fixed and dilated. Still no life.

  No! Did his misreading of Miranda lead to this? Was he responsible? Had he killed Jinx?

  Bond was frantic to fight the hypothermia now. He rubbed her hands, her arms, her legs, her feet, wrapped her in fur ...

  ‘Come on!’ he shouted. ‘The cold kept you alive. It must have kept you alive!’

  He thumped her chest again.

  ‘Come on!’

  He listened and pumped again. He pressed his lips to her mouth again. He banged on her chest. Mouth to mouth. Pump—Breath—Pump—Breath. As he tried to breathe life into her for one last agonising time, realisation dawned on him. It was a lost cause.

  Bond fell back and stared at her lifeless form. She was gone. All his efforts had been in vain.

  Then there was a small choke. Her body jerked in a spasm. Water trickled from her mouth. She coughed again and more water surged out. Bond pulled her to him and cuddled her. He continued to rub her limbs, trying to restore circulation, his hands trembling. Jinx sucked in air and coughed again. Finally, she opened her eyes and looked around, disoriented. Bond stared at her and she noted his frenzied expression.

  ‘Are you all right?’ she asked.

  He was so overjoyed that he started laughing.

  At that moment, they both heard the roar of the Antonov taking to the skies. Bond looked up and saw the huge plane flying away with its evil passengers.

  18 - A New Moon

  Gustav Graves sat alone in his quarters inside the huge Antonov aircraft as it flew halfway round the world towards North Korea. He felt extremely fatigued and needed a session with the Dream Machine to give him a burst of energy. The insomnia he experienced was more than just annoying; he knew that it was slowly driving him mad. Thankfully, the Dream Machine was something of a lifesaver; it kept him on track and focused. As long as he could spend at least an hour a day with the contraption, he was confident that his grip on reality would never falter.

  After relaying instructions for no one to disturb him, Graves reclined in his seat and moved the curved screen over his face. At once, the machine hummed and the multi-coloured lights began to flicker, mesmerising him into a state of REM without the normal accompanying sleep.

  He dreamed vividly, as he always did, about a variety of people and places. The face of his father swam in front of him but Graves refused to feel any guilt over what was about to happen in Korea. The general was soon replaced by the image of James Bond, the enemy who had damaged his organisation and his plans. Bond was dead now and Graves could concentrate on the next step.

  Graves’ mind drifted, allowing the Dream Machine to take him into the depths of his subconscious. He began to remember events of the past year and how he had thrown away his life as Colonel Tan-Gun Moon to become a different person ...

  Colonel Moon had survived the plunge over the waterfall in North Korea by donning one of the lifejackets located inside the mothership and then covering his head with a bulletproof vest. The huge hovercraft fell for only a few seconds, yet Moon had the impression that it was suspended in the air for two or three hours. Whatever the time frame, the vehicle inevitably crashed into the water below the falls and for a moment there was no light or sound. Moon clung to the vest and allowed it to absorb the impact that surely would have killed him otherwise.

  After what seemed to be a lifetime of nothingness, Moon became aware of where he was. The water was cold but not as frigid as he had expected it to be. It was unusually dark and he realised that he was underneath the hovercraft, which had capsized and was sinking to the bottom of the lake - and taking him with it. Moon knew that he had to do something quickly or the lifejacket would be of no use to him.

  Before he could think, he felt the heavy vehicle blanket him, forcing him down on his back on the muddy lake floor. Because of the shape of the craft, though, it didn’t crush him. His body was entombed in the space between the bottom of the lake and the hovercraft deck, which was now like a cover above him.

  Moon almost panicked but got hold of himself as soon as he remembered where he was and what he had at his disposal. Most of the weapons and military equipment had been secured to the hovercraft deck and were still there within arm’s reach. Best of all, the Tank Buster was lying miraculously in the mud next to his legs.

  The colonel picked up the large gun and twisted his body so that he could aim it at the side of the hovercraft deck. He was careful not to fire it at any of the assorted missiles and other explosives that were within a few feet of him. A nice blank spot on the hovercraft side would do nicely . ..

  Moon squeezed the trigger and felt the violent recoil even in the depths of the lake. The muffled boom was loud and it shook the ground he lay on. A thick cloud of mud, sand and bubbles swarmed around him, completely obscuring any visual confirmation that he had succeeded.

  His lungs were bursting now - he had to move. Blindly, he crawled like a sand crab towards the hole he hoped was in the side of the hovercraft. Feeling his way through, he found the jagged edges of the cavity and thrust his body through it.

  He was free.

  Moon surfaced and gasped for breath. He lay there for a few minutes, allowing the momentum from the falls to push his body along, away from the cliff edge. He looked up towards the te
mple where he had left the British spy. It was too far away to see any activity. Surely Bond would assume that he was dead.

  Given the current situation, that was exactly what Moon wanted him to think.

  Colonel Moon had many places in which to hide. He had installed safe havens all over North Korea that even his closest advisors knew nothing about. Now Zao was the only man who was aware that Moon had survived the hovercraft ordeal. They met at a pre-arranged rendezvous near P’yongyang and drew up the plans that would set in motion the events that occurred while Bond sat in a North Korean prison -and it was time to call Miranda Frost again.

  The Dream Machine took Graves back to that time and place as he remembered the chain of circumstances.

  Moon and Miranda had met when they were on the fencing team at Harvard and they developed a mutual respect for each other that they maintained after graduation. Moon was a young, vigorous and handsome Asian man with wealth and power. Miranda Frost was attracted to him, but not necessarily in a sexual way. Likewise, Moon wasn’t drawn to the Western woman in a physical sense. In fact, he was not much of a sexual being. He had had his share of women, but he had put aside carnal desires to concentrate on other things. His sole aim was to run North Korea and defeat the South bringing the West to its knees.

  When she had first met Moon, Miranda was a woman who was loyal only to herself. She was intelligent, athletic and beautiful, but she cared not a whit about her country or fellow man. Moon could see that she was someone who looked at the world as a place filled with adversaries to be overcome. Miranda had told him that she was an only child. Her mother had died during childbirth and her father had essentially forced her into the roles of both daughter and wife as soon as she was old enough to work around the house.

  ‘When I was fourteen, I killed my father,’ she told Moon. ‘Well, that’s not entirely true. But I caused his death.’

  ‘How so?’ Moon had asked her.

  ‘He was allergic to bee stings. He always bragged about surviving a nearly lethal sting when he was a teenager. We lived in Kent in a rural area. I used to go for long walks to get out of the house. One day,

  I discovered a beehive not far from our property. I went back home and found a jar. I poked some holes in the lid with an icepick and then I went back to the beehive. I wasn’t afraid of the bees. I had been stung once when I was younger and I knew that I wasn’t allergic to them’

  ‘What did you do?’

  ‘I trapped three of them in the jar and brought them back to the house. After my father returned from work that evening, I went outside with the jar and opened the car door. I let the bees loose inside and shut the door.’

  ‘What happened?’

  Moon distinctly remembered the wicked smile that had spread across Miranda’s face. ‘By the time my father went to work the next morning, the bees were angry and hungry. He got into the car, started it up and drove out onto the main road. The bees attacked him and the car smashed into a lorry. He survived the crash, barely, but the bee stings caused his throat to swell so badly that he was asphyxiated. He was dead before the ambulance arrived.’

  Moon had admired her ruthlessness and they became allies against the world.

  A few years after they had both left Harvard, Colonel Moon met Miranda again in Sydney, at the Olympic games. Miranda was on the British fencing team and was expected to come in second place. A Russian athlete had the edge, but Miranda was determined to beat her. Moon was there as an observer, since North Korea didn’t participate in the games. He admired Miranda’s ability and thought she should win. It was time to involve her in his plans.

  It wasn’t difficult. Colonel Moon and Miranda developed an unholy alliance in Sydney based on a mutual interest in power. Moon liked to rule and Miranda liked to win.

  ‘I can guarantee that you will receive the gold medal,’ Moon told her.

  ‘Really? How?’ He had her attention.

  ‘That’s my secret.’

  ‘What do I have to do, sleep with you?’

  ‘No, nothing so crude,’ he said, reaching out and stroking her golden hair. ‘My price for this service would be your undying loyalty.’

  ‘You already have that.’

  ‘Even though I’m a military radical in a Communist country?’

  ‘Oddly enough, I find that appealing,’ she answered.

  Colonel Moon poisoned the Russian fencing champion the night before the big match. When the moment of truth finally arrived, she managed to defeat Miranda on the floor, as everyone had predicted. But an hour after the bout, the Russian dropped dead and the ensuing autopsy revealed that she had overdosed on steroids. She had suffered a heart attack. Miranda was declared the winner — she got her gold after all.

  Miranda went back to England and Moon returned to North Korea. They kept in touch and Moon paid her to supply him with information. She pursued a Job in the secret service so that she could help her mentor and friend, the only man she thought she could trust.

  Graves’ dreams shifted forward in time to his decision to alter his appearance and his identity. He had called upon Miranda to help him do this. After all, it was she who had set up the diamond connection in Africa and it was she who had identified Bond as the diamond merchant’s impersonator.

  ‘Have you ever heard of the Beauty Parlour?’ Miranda asked.

  ‘No. What is that?’

  ‘A place in Cuba where people go who want to change their lives.’

  ‘How do you know about this?’

  ‘Through my work with MI6.’

  She told him how she had learned of Dr Alvarez and his Cuban clinic, where international spies and criminals could, for a price, change their identities. MI6 only knew this as a rumour. Miranda had kept her research to herself. The DNA replacement therapy was dangerous and experimental, but it worked. After some investigating on his own, Colonel Moon agreed to undergo the procedure.

  Moon travelled out of Korea via discreet channels, paying for everything with his immense wealth. He took an indirect route, through Africa to South America and then to Cuba. He was at the clinic for a month, submitting to the terrible pain that accompanied the transformation. When he emerged from the Beauty Parlour, he was Gustav Graves.

  Next came the difficult task of creating a life for his new persona. Graves went back to Africa and used his old connections to study diamond mining and processing. While he was there, he used his influence to bribe officials and create false records indicating that Gustav Graves was an orphan from Argentina. He let it be know that he’d learned the diamond mining craft as a child labourer. Most details were conveniently left out of the records so that he would always be a mystery to the public, but there was enough to make him seem legitimate.

  Graves then enlisted the services of another colleague he had met in Africa. Jan Ericsson was a hard-drinking Icelander with a long, disreputable past who had made a fortune mining illegal diamonds in Africa and often sold his services to various warring factions. Back home in Iceland, he had opened a modest mine located underneath the Vatna icecap and later announced a small-scale discovery of diamonds within it. He used the mine as a cover to distribute the African gems. The mine was, of course, a barren one and contained no diamonds and never could but Ericsson had conceived a perfect way of concealing the illegal origins of irresistible gems. So, the conflict diamonds that Colonel Moon had used to finance his operations in North Korea had come from Africa via Iceland.

  Graves and Ericsson did a great deal of business together and Graves flattered and beguiled Ericsson into closer friendship. He regarded the Icelander as a gross, blundering fool who had stumbled upon an idea that he, Graves, saw as a passport to immense wealth, greater than Ericsson could ever dream of. One night when Ericsson was very drunk, Graves talked him into making him a partner in the enterprise.

  ‘My friend,’ Ericsson said, slurring his words. ‘I am happy to do this. After all, my doctor tells me that my health is bad. I may not live long. I have no family. You
are my best friend.’

  Graves humoured the man, pouring him another drink. ‘And I feel the same way about you, Jan. You’re like a father to me.’

  Tears came to Ericsson’s eyes. ‘Then let’s sign the papers and be done with it. That way, if something ever happens to me, all this land will be yours.’

  Ericsson produced the documents and they both signed them and shook hands. Ericsson gave Graves a huge bear hug and then fell back into his chair with a satisfied belch. Within a few minutes, he was snoring loudly.

  Graves stepped over to his desk, opened a drawer and removed a .357 Magnum pistol. He pointed it at Ericsson and calmly shot him in the head. Without twinge of conscience, Graves then proceeded to execute three more men who were closely associated with Ericsson. Later that night, he buried the four corpses deep beneath the ice in the diamond mine.

  Then Graves went public, announcing his discovery of a magnificent new lode in the obscure Vatna diamond mine and producing the documents that proved that the land was all his.

  Once he was established as a legitimate diamond producer, he could trade openly and profitably in the world’s diamond centres: Antwerp, Tel Aviv and New York. He could source conflict diamonds at very little cost to himself from the desperate, war-torn countries of western and southern Africa to enormous personal profit This combined with high profile trading of famous legitimate diamonds made him the most powerful figure in this lucrative and dangerous trade.

  Graves removed the Dream Machine from his face and stretched. The remnants of the dream stayed with him, though and he continued to reminisce as he looked out the window at the sea of clouds in the sky.

  It had taken only months for Graves to amass a fortune, build an empire, create a corporation and begin to make headlines. He had surrounded himself with people of his choosing who would be loyal at all costs. Vlad, the Russian, was an aeronautics engineer who had a special gift for designing satellites. Kil, an Icelander, was particularly adept at enforcing Graves’ orders. Miranda Frost managed to attach herself to Graves by persuading MI6 that she was working undercover. Graves’ unimpeded progress was briefly interrupted by Zao’s arrest in China, so Miranda brokered the deal to exchange Bond for Zao, managing to cast suspicion on Bond in the process.