by John Gardner
She nodded, and he told her to try and rest. ‘It is quite a long drive and I wish you to be rested when we reach our destination.’
Once more she felt the thrill pass through her, as though she had absolutely no resistance or personal freedom.
Within two hours, the car slowed down and came to a stop. She heard the doors being opened and felt Leu’s hands on her arms again, helping her out and propelling her across gravel and into a building which smelled of flowers. She thought the scent was that of night stocks after rain, but under her feet she detected solid tile or, more likely, marble. Then this changed to thick soft carpet. She knew that she was being taken down long corridors and through other rooms. Then Leu’s hands steadied her. ‘Stay,’ he warned. ‘Touch nothing. Do not move the mask. Just wait.’
She felt unsteady after the long car ride and the confined darkness, then she felt Lee near her, his hands running over her waist, buttocks and breasts. Suddenly he plucked the mask from her face and she was aware of being in a dimly lit bedroom of vast proportions.
Gently, like a trainer with a frisky colt, he guided her backwards until she felt the side of a bed behind her upper thighs, then her back against great softness and Brokenclaw’s hands moving again, his lips on her lips, and suddenly, his body on her body. Slowly one large hand took the neck of her cheongsam and, in one movement, it was ripped from her body. Her last thought was that she had been right to wear nothing under the dress.
7
TALK OF A MERRY DANCE
M looked decidedly embarrassed, moving uneasily in his chair, fiddling with his napkin and grunting. ‘You know how much I abhor this kind of sexual entrapment,’ he said gruffly. ‘But, in this case, I suppose it was the only way.’
‘It was the only opportunity, sir.’ They had carried on eating. Wanda had remained very calm while telling the story, and Bond had become almost jealous of Brokenclaw. ‘The chance came, and I took it.’
‘Unsanctioned,’ cautioned M.
‘Admiral, it was our operation.’ Ed Rushia had dropped his homespun manner. ‘Now it’s definitely sanctioned, as you know, Wanda is in a unique position.’
Bond raised his eyebrows, and thought Rushia could have chosen his words more carefully.
‘Look, in a matter of three weeks we’ve made incredible headway.’
‘Yes.’ Bond broke his silence. ‘What kind of headway have we made? Infiltration isn’t any good unless it produces raw intelligence.’
M gave a small nod, ‘Oh, that’s one of the reasons you’re here, Bond. “Cuckoo”, which is Wanda’s crypto, has provided not only the raw intelligence but the means to bring us even closer to Brokenclaw and the personnel he’s undoubtedly holding. All five of them. And I might add . . .’ One of the telephones uttered a quiet purr which stopped M, who walked over and picked up the instrument. He spoke only in monosyllables but they could all tell by his tone and demeanour that something was wrong.
‘Well, looks as if you were right about Brokenclaw’s people in British Columbia.’ He looked at Bond. ‘They’ve found Professor Allardyce’s body in some woods just outside Victoria, and that would suggest that we must now move with some haste.’
‘I must move quickly anyway, sir.’ Wanda pushed her chair back from the table. ‘Big Leu’s supposed to be picking me up at midnight.’
‘I’m intrigued.’ Bond put out a hand to restrain her. ‘Intrigued that friend Brokenclaw, if he really is such a monster, let you return, while he keeps the other people from Lords and Lords Day prisoners.’
Wanda smiled at him. ‘I didn’t think I stood a chance of getting away, especially after that first night. I should tell you, Captain Bond, that his reputation regarding sexual appetite is quite wrong.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, he’s more insatiable than any speculation could begin to intimate. But, at the moment, I appear to satisfy him, though none of us know how long that will go on. The few people close to him – the very few he trusts – have made it very clear that he soon tires of one woman.’ She spoke without any hint of coyness or self-consciousness, but with the quiet voice of a proficient agent giving facts to interrogators.
‘Then I take it he trusts you.’ Bond’s voice in no way suggested that he did not believe her.
‘Not completely. But we’re getting there. For the first five days I was not even allowed to leave the suite of rooms we both used. But after that he relaxed a little. I was allowed to use some of the other rooms, though never areas with windows. I also met his closest people. He has quite a set-up wherever it is. I come and go blindfolded, and we’ve got one or two ideas as to location, but it’s always cloak and dagger. I only had to keep my wits about me, and before I left on that first occasion, we came to an arrangement . . .’
‘We provide her with good chickenfeed,’ Rushia chimed in. ‘It’s all category four stuff, and keeps him happy.’
‘Now, I really must go, if you’ll all excuse me.’ Wanda stood to attention facing M, who, Bond noted with a wry smile, did not look her in the eyes.
‘Yes. Yes. Carry on, Ms er . . . Carry on.’
‘So what magic information has she wheedled out of our man?’ Bond asked, with little conviction, once Wanda Man Song Hing had left the cabin.
‘Y’don’t trust our little Wanda, do you, James?’ from Rushia, stone-faced in a manner that made Bond very uncomfortable.
‘It’s not that I don’t trust her, it’s the facts of life. Sexpionage, as the tabloids call it, can backfire. To tell you the truth, Ed, I’m more worried for her than anything.’
‘Pretty rich, coming from you, Bond,’ M huffed. ‘I suggest you just stay silent while we tell you exactly what Ms Man Song Hing has uncovered for us. More to the point, how she has found a way for you to get close to this odd fish, Brokenclaw.’
Bond, a shade on his dignity, nodded, folded his arms and waited, glancing from one to the other.
Rushia began. ‘First thing you should know is pretty obvious. Brokenclaw Lee is almost paranoid about treachery – treachery to him personally. He has a very few people who work at close range with him and most of them are pretty weird with names like Big Leu and Luk See. There are others. Among his heavies are a couple of charming Chinese called Bone Bender Ding and Frozen Stalk Pu. Try those on for size. But the one thing Wanda was really able to establish is that Lee does not trust his masters in China. There’s no doubt that he’s put a nice package together with most of the details of Lords and Lords Day. But it appears that he does not trust any of his own mob to deliver the stuff to CELD.’ He looked towards M, as though asking permission to continue. M gave him a small affirmative nod.
‘So, James, CELD are sending their own couriers to analyse the material on the spot and take it out of the country.’
‘When?’
M answered, ‘Very soon, 007. In fact, they’re here already.’
‘In the US?’
M nodded. ‘You see, Cuckoo, as I would rather call her, made certain that she overheard some of the more sensitive conversations. First she heard of visitors expected between 27th of this month and 7th October. There was no firm date. When she gave us this information she also told us that, because of his paranoia about betrayal, the couriers were to be led quite a dance before they actually got to Mr Lee. Incidentally, his is a wise paranoia – the price of freedom, so to speak. It is the motive force behind his ability to appear and disappear almost at will. You have to be alert constantly, have a fine-tuned instinct and a lot of the aforesaid paranoia to do that.’
‘The couriers,’ Bond prompted. ‘They came in from China?’
‘From Beijing to Hong Kong, Hong Kong to Tokyo, then JAL into New York. Cuckoo’s information was that, as soon as they arrived in New York, they were to call a number here in San Francisco where there would be an exchange of passwords. Verification that they were the right people. After that had been established, they would be told where to go and whom to speak with . . .’
‘A
sort of treasure hunt,’ Bond smiled.
‘Gee whizz, James, right on the button. Lee’s own expression. Wanda heard him say, “then we start the treasure hunt. At the end we will be certain they are the right people, and that they are loyal to their masters in Beijing, as well as to us”. Yep, a nice little treasure hunt.’
‘You have surveillance on them?’
M gave one of his rare smiles which lit up his eyes. ‘You might say so, yes, James. Would you call it surveillance, Commander Rushia?’
The American made a small puffing movement with his lips as though playing an invisible instrument. ‘I’d call it, very close surveillance with chemical fringe benefits.’
‘Please explain, sir.’ Bond sounded irritated.
‘Well, you see, 007, we knew three things from Cuckoo. One, the time frame; two, the port of entry; three, the fact that there were two couriers, a man and a woman – the man a Caucasian, probably British, the young woman a Chinese.’
‘From our own resources – our China watchers – and in a very short space of time, we were able to identify the pair. Which is more than Brokenclaw Lee has been able to do, and we’re naturally very proud of this. Shows we’re not the dinosaurs the press would have people believe. Anyway, the couple arrived separately at JFK New York on JAL flight 06 a couple of days ago, which, if you look in your diary, means right at the start of the time scale. Lucky for us, eh, Rushia?’
‘Not a case of luck, sir. Just excellent work . . .’ Ed turned towards Bond. ‘We had ’em picked up. Very quietly, no scenes, no fuss, hooray for us.’
‘And?’ Slowly Bond was beginning to get the picture.
‘And, as I told you, they’re here.’ M was like a magician producing doves from the air.
‘Ah. You mean,’ Bond said, very slowly, ‘you mean literally here, sir. On this ship?’
M nodded. ‘They’ve been spending time with some good friends of yours, who, I think, have now got all the information we require.’
‘God help them.’ Once, with feeling, then again, for the insurance, ‘God help them.’ It all fell into place in Bond’s head, a logical piece of neat and symmetrical sleight of mind. ‘I presume I am to play the Brit.’
‘On the button again, James.’ Rushia gave a wide grin.
‘And who’s the lucky one cast as the girl? Not Ed here?’
‘Commander Rushia will have you both under his eye all the time and we trust the FBI will also be on hand.’ M was still smiling. ‘You see, they’ve got it into their heads that both you and Rushia are suspect. Actually, the commander’s work will be to left foot the FBI if they move in too close and frighten off the big players.’
‘But, as I asked before, who’s sharing the billing?’
‘Nice little thing, Bond. First real operation so you might have to ease her along. CIA provided her. Name of Sue Chi-Ho, known as Chi-Chi Sue to her friends . . .’
‘Has no enemies either,’ supplied Rushia quietly, but M went on.
‘She’s a Cantonese speaker, worked for US Navy Intelligence, then the Agency took her in. Just finished the course at the Farm.’
The Farm was Camp Peary, near Williamsburg, the CIA’s training facility.
‘And I’ve got to nurse her through what could be a very dangerous operation?’
M looked him in the eyes and then turned away as he said, ‘Yes, possibly lethal, 007. But I think you’ll find she’ll be up to snuff. Good girl.’ Then he asked Rushia if he could possibly bring Sue Chi-Ho to them.
As the commander left the cabin, M picked up the red telephone and pressed two numbers. ‘Everything in order?’ he asked. Then, ‘Good. Yes, tell him to finish up now and stand by for the briefing . . . Yes, yes, he’s here . . . You are sure they’re both cleaned out. I want to be assured of every point, after all it was the Chinese who pioneered what they call “Thought Reform” . . . Really? . . . Yes, very interesting, he’ll have to write a paper for us some time. I’ll call when I’m ready.’ He cradled the instrument and looked up at Bond.
‘If you decide to turn down this operation, everyone’ll understand. I have to say that because we really are in deep water. Don’t want to say this to Rushia but we’ve had Orr go over Cuckoo’s debriefs. She’s been very thorough. Good memory, and she’s provided verbatim reports on all her conversations with Brokenclaw. Orr says that as well as a suspicious paranoia, the man also shows dangerous psychopathic tendencies.’
‘Do I take it that Orr’s here, sir?’ Bill Orr was the Service’s head Witchdoctor, a man with stratospheric skills in psychiatry and its attendant arts.
‘He’s here, with others, including the US Navy counterparts. All I want you to know now, 007, is that we’re dealing, not just with a man who is filching and passing classified information to Chinese Intelligence, but also an out of control gangster, and a very dangerous one at that.’
‘I think I’d have to be a bit of a flake not to have realised that already, sir.’
‘Bit of a flake!’ M was at his most testy. ‘Bond, I do abhor your constant use of these odd American terms!’
‘When in Rome, sir.’
A knock at the door heralded the return of Ed Rushia, who, with an exaggerated show of old world courtesy, handed a young woman into the cabin.
‘Miss Sue Chi-Ho. You’ve met the admiral here, now I’d like you to meet Captain Bond, Royal Navy.’
Bond had risen. Now he stepped forward to shake hands with the slim young girl facing him. ‘James,’ he said. ‘You must call me James.’
‘My friends call me Chi-Chi which in some circles is considered vulgar.’
She stood less than five feet in height, slim and as delicate as porcelain, but her handshake was firm, denoting strength. Bond could feel that toughness as their hands met, as though she was able to impart a kind of electric danger directly from her body to his.
‘I’m sure that only the most common and insensitive person could find anything vulgar about you, Chi-Chi.’
Their eyes met, and he saw that she was blessed with clear, steady hazel eyes – a melding of brown and green – almond-shaped, for she was undeniably Oriental and looked very young. He was also pleased to see that there were tiny scimitars of laughter lines at each side of her slightly askew mouth, as though her lips were contained by a pair of bracket marks.
‘We are to work together, I understand.’ She spoke flawless English with no trace of any American accent. ‘I feel we shall have a common bond.’ She gave him a brilliant smile which lit up her whole face and seemed to have its wellspring in the lovely green-flecked eyes.
From the desk, M made a loud harumphing sound. ‘Captain Bond, Miss Chi-Ho, we have important work to do. You have not yet seen the person you’re to impersonate?’ This last directed towards Chi-Chi who shook her head and gave him a clear, ‘No, sir.’
‘Right. Now, if you’ll all be good enough to follow me.’ He strode towards the door. Ed Rushia raised an eyebrow at Bond and they all trooped out after M with a great show of courtesy towards Chi-Chi at the door.
Chi-Chi stopped as both Rushia and Bond stood back to make way for her. ‘I’d like to be treated like anyone else.’ Her manner was very much that of the liberated woman, though Bond was glad to note, without those abrasive bad manners so often used to force women’s rights down the throats of men who exhibited a particular kind of chauvinism. ‘I am one of a team,’ she continued, much to M’s irritation as he waited outside the door. ‘I don’t wish you to think of me as a woman.’
‘That’s a very tall order, Chi-Chi.’ Bond tilted an eyebrow.
‘Huh!’ she grunted and marched through the door, though Bond thought he detected a tiny flash of pleasure from both her lips and eyes.
‘Guess you’ll have to watch yourself, James,’ Rushia muttered. ‘You’ve got a little ball of fire there.’
‘Happily, I agree with you.’ Bond gave him a smile of profound satisfaction. ‘And she’d better learn that we’re two of a team.’
; They followed M through one of the companion ways and down metal steps into a corridor which led to the ship’s hospital – a series of spacious cabins with ample room for any medical emergency. At last he plunged through one of the doors and Bond found to his astonishment that a number of very old friends were seated around a large conference table.
‘Surprise, James, my dear.’ The first greeting in the form of a hug and kiss was from the doughty, tall, elegant, leggy Ann Reilly, assistant to the Armourer, Head of Q Branch, and nicknamed Q’ute by every red-blooded man in the Service.
‘Well.’ Bond disengaged himself from Q’ute who, he saw with some pleasure, still affected a somewhat severe style to her sleek, straw-coloured hair. ‘Old home week, eh?’ as he went from person to person shaking hands, reflecting that it was good to know he had a familiar and well-tested backup.
Bill Tanner, M’s Chief of Staff was present, together with Bill Orr, the Witchdoctor, and a short, quiet man with piercing eyes who was known to the cognoscenti as the Scrivener. His real name was Brian Cogger and his specialty was what they called ‘paper’, namely forged documents. It was said that the Scrivener could create a new personality for you in a matter of hours, and his work would fool even the most diligent scrutiny.
There were also four American specialists present, and they were introduced in turn. But the most overpowering figure sat at the head of the table – Franks, as he was called.
Nobody knew his real name, but he answered to Franks or, more often, the Grand Inquisitor. Even James Bond was a little in awe of Franks, who could eventually break down anyone under interrogation – his methods ranging from the cosy fireside friendly chat to the more sinister deep examinations which he could only carry out together with one of the service doctors, usually the Witchdoctor.
As soon as they were seated, it was Franks who took command, not even deferring to M.
‘This is all straightforward,’ he began, and everyone turned in his direction. ‘Known facts – five officers and other ranks concerned with the highly classified joint Anglo-American project Lords and Lords Day, have been abducted. Late today I was also informed that Professor Robert Allardyce, the original brains behind the project, has been found shot dead in British Columbia.