by Ian Fleming
Largo’s voice was equally polite. They might have been discussing remedies for a seasick passenger. ‘Thank you. I have means of persuasion that I have found satisfactory in the past. But I shall certainly call upon you if the case is an obstinate one.’ Largo looked down the table into the shadowed, ruby faces. ‘And now we will quickly run through the final details.’ He glanced down at his watch. ‘It is midnight. There will be two hours’ moonlight starting at three a.m. The first light of dawn will be shortly after five a.m. We thus have two hours for the operation. Our course will bring us in towards West End from the south. This is a normal entry to the islands, and even if our further progress towards the target area is noted by the missile station radar it will only be assumed that we are a yacht that has strayed slightly off course. We shall anchor at exactly three a.m. and the swimming party will leave for the half-mile swim to the laying point. The fifteen of you who will be taking part in this swim will, as arranged, swim in arrow formation, the Chariot and the sled with the missile in the centre. Formation must be strictly kept to avoid straying. The blue torch on my back should be an adequate beacon, but if any man gets lost, he returns to the ship. Is that understood? The first duty of the escort will be to watch for shark and barracuda. I will again remind you that the range of your guns is not much more than twenty feet and that fish must be hit in or behind the head. Any man who is about to fire must warn his neighbour, who will then stand by to give additional fire if required. However, one hit should be sufficient to kill if the curare is, as we have been informed, not affected by the passage through sea water. Above all,’ Largo put his hands decisively down on the table before him, ‘do not forget to remove the small protective sheath from the barb before firing.’ Largo raised his hands. ‘You will forgive me for repeating these points. We have had many exercises in similar conditions and I have confidence that all will be well. But the underwater terrain will be unfamiliar and the effect of the dexedrine pills — they will be issued to the swimming party after this meeting — will be to sensitize the nervous system as well as provide the extra stamina and encouragement. So we must all be prepared for the unexpected and know how to handle it. Are there any further questions?’
During the planning stages, months before in Paris, Blofeld had warned Largo that if trouble was caused by any members of his team it was to be expected from the two Russians, the ex-members of Smersh, No. 10 and No. 11. ‘Conspiracy,’ Blofeld had said, ‘is their lifeblood. Hand in hand with conspiracy walks suspicion. These two men will always be wondering if they are not the object of some subsidiary plot — to give them the most dangerous work, to make them fall-guys for the police, to kill them and steal their share of the profits. They will be inclined to inform against their colleagues and always to have reservations about the plans that are agreed upon. For them, the obvious plan, the right way to do a thing, will have been chosen for some ulterior reason which is being kept hidden from them. They will need constant reassurance that nothing is being kept hidden from them, but, once they have accepted their orders, they will carry them out meticulously and without regard for their personal safety. Such men, apart from their special talents, are worth having. But you will please remember what I have said and, should there be trouble, should they try and sow mistrust within the team, you must act quickly and with utter ruthlessness. The maggots of mistrust and disloyalty must not be allowed to get a hold in your team. They are the enemies within that can destroy even the most meticulous planning.’
Now No. 10, a once-famous Smersh terrorist called Strelik, began talking. He was sitting two places away from Largo, on his left. He did not address Largo, but the meeting. He said, ‘Comrades, I am thinking of the interesting matters recounted by No. 1, and I am telling myself that everything has been excellently arranged. I am also thinking that this operation will be a very fine one and that it will certainly not be necessary to explode the second weapon on Target No. 2. I have some documentations on these islands and I am learning from the Yachtsman’s’s (No. 10 had trouble with the word) Guide to the Bahamas that there is a big new hotel within a few miles of our target site, also a scattered township. I am therefore estimating that the explosion of Weapon No. 1 will destroy perhaps two thousand persons. Two thousand persons is not very many in my country and their death, compared with the devastation of this important missile station, would not, in the Soviet Union, be considered of great importance. I am thinking that it will be otherwise in the West and that the destruction of these people and the rescuing of the survivors will be considered a grave matter that will act decisively towards immediate agreement with our terms and the saving of Target No. 2 from destruction. This being so, Comrades,’ the dull, flat voice gained a trace of animation, ‘I am saying to myself that within as little as twenty-four hours our labours will have been completed and the great prize will be within our grasp. Now, Comrades,’ the red and black shadows turned the taut little smile into a dark grimace, ‘with so much money so near at hand, a most unworthy thought has come into my mind.’ (Largo put his hand in his coat pocket and put up the safe on the little Colt .25.) ‘And I would not be performing my duty to my Russian comrade, No. 11, nor to the other members of our team, if I did not share this thought with you at the same time requesting forbearance for what may be unfounded suspicions.’
The meeting was very quiet, ominously so. These men had all been secret agents or conspirators. They recognized the smell of insurrection, the shadow of approaching disloyalty. What did No. 10 know? What was he going to divulge? Each man got ready to decide very quickly which way to jump when the cat was let out of the bag. Largo slipped the gun out of his pocket and held it along his thigh.
‘There will come a moment,’ continued No. 10, watching the faces of the men opposite for a quick gauge of their reactions, ‘very shortly, when fifteen of us, leaving five members and six sub-agents on board this ship, will be out there,’ he waved a hand at the cabin wall, ‘in the darkness, at least half an hour’s swim from this ship. At that moment, Comrades,’ the voice became sly, ‘what a thing it would be if those remaining on board were to sail the ship away and leave us in the water.’ There was a shifting and muttering round the table. No. 10 held up a hand. ‘Ridiculous I am thinking, and so no doubt are you, Comrades. But we are men of a feather. We recognize the unworthy urges that can come upon even the best of friends and comrades when fortunes are at stake. And, Comrades, with fifteen of us gone, how much more of a fortune would there be for those remaining, with their story for No. 2 of a great fight with sharks in which we all succumbed?’
Largo said softly, ‘And what is it you propose, No. 10?’
For the first time, No. 10 looked to his right. He could not see the expression in Largo’s eye. He spoke at the great red and black mass of his face. The tone of his voice was obstinate. He said, ‘I am proposing that one member of each national group should stay on board to safeguard the interests of the other members of his national group. That would reduce the swimming party to ten. In this way those who are undertaking this dangerous work would go about it with more enthusiasm knowing that no such happening as I have mentioned could come about.’
Largo’s voice was polite, unemotional. He said, ‘I have one very short and simple answer to your suggestion, No. 10.’ The light glittered redly on the metal thumb that protruded from the big hand. The three bullets pumped so quickly into the face of the Russian that the three explosions, the three bright flashes, were almost one. No. 10 put up two feeble hands, palms forward, as if to catch any further bullets, gave a jerk forward with his stomach at the edge of the table and then crashed heavily backwards, in a splinter of chair wood, on to the floor.
Largo put the muzzle of the gun up to his nose and delicately sniffed at it, moving it to and fro under the nostrils as if it was some delicious vial of perfume. In the silence, he looked slowly down one rank of faces and up the other. Finally he said softly, ‘The meeting is now at an end. Will all members please return to their cab
ins and look for a last time to their equipment. Food will be ready from now on in the galley. One drink of alcohol will also be available for those who want it. I will detail two crew members to look after the late No. 10. Thank you.’
When Largo was alone he got to his feet, stretched, and gave a great cavernous yawn. Then he turned to the sideboard, opened a drawer and took out a box of Corona cigars. He chose one and, with a gesture of distaste, lit it. He then took the closed red rubber container that held the ice cubes and walked out of the door and along to the cabin of Domino Vitali.
He closed the door and locked it. Here also, a red riding light hung from the ceiling. Under it, on the double bunk, the girl lay offered like a starfish, her ankles and wrists strapped to the four corners of the ironwork below the mattress. Largo put the icebox down on the chest of drawers and balanced the cigar carefully beside it so that the glowing tip would not spoil the varnish.
The girl watched him, her eyes glittering red points in the semi-darkness.
Largo said, ‘My dear, I have had great enjoyment out of your body, much pleasure. In return, unless you tell me who gave you that machine to bring on board, I shall be forced to cause you great pain. It will be caused with these two simple instruments,’ he held up the cigar and blew on the tip until it glowed brightly, ‘this for heat, and these ice cubes for cold. Applied scientifically, as I shall apply them, they will have the inevitable effect of causing your voice, when it has stopped screaming, to speak, and speak the truth. Now then. Which is it to be?’
The girl’s voice was deadly with hate. She said, ‘You killed my brother and you will now kill me. Go on and enjoy yourself. You are already a piece of death yourself. When the rest of it comes, very soon, I pray God you will suffer a million times more than both of us.’
Largo’s laugh was a short, harsh bark. He walked over to the edge of the bunk. He said, ‘Very well, my dear. We must see what we can do with you, very softly and very, very slowly.’
He bent down and hooked his fingers in the neckline of her shirt and the join of the brassiere. Very slowly, but with great force, he tore downwards, the whole length of her. Then he threw aside the torn halves of material and exposed the whole gleaming length of her body. He examined it carefully and reflectively and then went to the chest of drawers and took the cigar and the bowl of ice cubes and came back and made himself comfortable on the edge of the bunk.
Then he took a puff at the cigar, knocked the ash off on to the floor and leant forward.
Chapter 22
The Shadower
In the attack centre of the Manta it was very quiet. Commander Pedersen, standing behind the man at the echo-sounder, occasionally made a comment over his shoulder to Bond and Leiter, who had been given canvas-backed chairs well away from the depth- and speed-gauges, which had been hooded so that they could only be read by the navigation team. These three men sat side by side on red leather, foam cushioned, aluminium seats, handling the rudder and the forward and aft diving planes as if they were pilots in an airliner. Now the captain left the echo-sounder and came over to Bond and Leiter. He smiled cheerfully. ‘Thirty fathoms and the nearest cay is a mile to westwards. Now we’ve got a clear course all the way to Grand Bahama. And we’re making good speed. If we keep it up, we’ve got about four hours’ sailing. Be off Grand Bahama about an hour before first light. How about some food and a bit of sleep? There won’t be anything on the radar for an hour — these Berry Islands’ll fill the screen until we’re clear of them. Then’ll come the big question. When we clear them, shall we see that one of the smallest of the cays has broken loose and is sailing fast northwards on a parallel course to ours? If we see that on the screen, it’ll be the Disco. If she’s there, we’ll submerge. You’ll hear the alarm bells. But you can just roll over and have a bit more sleep. Nothing can happen until it’s certain that she’s in the target area. Then we’ll have to think again.’ The captain made for the stairway. ‘Mind if I lead the way? Watch your head on the pipes. This is the one part of the ship where there isn’t much clearance.’
They followed him down and along a passage to the mess hall, a well-lighted dining-room finished in cream with pastel pink and green panels. They took their places at the head of one of the Formica-top tables away from the other officers and men, who looked curiously at the two civilians. The captain waved a hand at the walls of the room. ‘Bit of a change from the old battleship grey. You’d be surprised how many eggheads are involved in the design of these ships. Have to be, if you want to keep your crew happy when the ship’s submerged for a month or more at a time. The trick-cyclists said we couldn’t have just one colour, must have contrast everywhere or the men’s eyes get sort of depressed. This hall’s used for movies, closed-circuit television, cribbage tournaments, bingo, God knows what — anything to keep the men off duty from getting bored. And you notice there’s no smell of cooking or engine smells. Electrostatic precipitators all over the ship that filter them off.’ A steward came with menus. ‘Now then, let’s get down to it. I’m having the baked Virginia ham with red-eye gravy, apple-pie with ice cream, and iced coffee. And steward, don’t go too easy on that red-eye.’ He turned to Bond. ‘Getting out of harbour always gives me an appetite. You know, it isn’t the sea the captain hates, it’s the land.’
Bond ordered poached eggs with rye toast and coffee. He was grateful for the captain’s cheerful talk, but he himself had no appetite. There was a gnawing tension inside him which would only be released when the Disco was picked up on the radar and there would be a prospect of action. And lurking behind his concern about the whole operation was worry about the girl. Had he been right to trust her with so much of the truth? Had she betrayed him? Had she been caught? Was she alive? He drank down a glass of iced water, and listened to the captain explaining how the ice cubes and the water were distilled from the sea.
Finally Bond became impatient with the cheerful, even tone of the conversation. He said, ‘Forgive me, Captain, but could I interrupt for a moment and clear my mind about what we’re going to do if we’re right about the Disco and if we come up with her off the Grand Bahama? I can’t quite figure what the next step ought to be. I’ve got my own ideas, but were you thinking we’d try and go alongside and board her, or just blow her out of the water?’
The captain’s grey eyes were quizzical. He said, ‘I was kind of leaving all that to you fellers. The Navy Department says that I’m under your orders. I’m just the chauffeur. Supposing you tell me what you have in mind and I’ll be glad to go along with anything you suggest so long as it doesn’t endanger my ship —’ he smiled — ‘too much, that is. In the last resort, if the Navy Department means what it says, and from your account of this operation it does, the safety of the ship will also have to go by the board. As I told you aloft in the attack centre, I got acknowledgement of our signal and full approval for our proposed course of action. That’s all the clearance I need. Now then, you tell me.’
The food came. Bond pecked at his eggs and pushed them away. He lit a cigarette. He said, looking at Felix Leiter, ‘Well, I don’t know what you’ve worked out, Felix, but this is how I see the picture we may find around four o’clock in the morning, on the assumption, that is, that the Disco has been sailing north in shoal water under cover of the Berry Islands and that she’ll then make for the Grand Bahama shore somewhere off the site of the missile station. Well now, on that assumption, I’ve had a good look at the charts and it seems to me that, if she’s going to lay that bomb as close to the target as she can, she’ll heave to and anchor about a mile off-shore in about ten fathoms and get the bomb another half-mile or so closer to the target, lay it in twelve feet of water or so, switch on the time mechanism and get the hell away. That’s how I’d go about it. She’d be away by first light and there’s plenty of yacht traffic around West End from what I can gather from the pilot. She’d show up on the station radar of course, but she’d be just another yacht. Assuming the bomb’s set for the twelve hours Largo’s got
before the time limit expires, he could be back in Nassau or twice as far away if he wanted in the time he’s got. For my money, he’ll go back to Nassau with his treasure-hunting story and wait for the next lot of orders from SPECTRE.’ Bond paused. He avoided Leiter’s eyes. ‘That is, unless he’s managed to get information out of the girl.’
Leiter said staunchly, ‘Hell, I don’t believe that girl would talk. She’s a tough cookie. And supposing she did? He’s only got to drop her overboard with some lead round her neck and say her aqualung failed on the treasure hunt, or some spiel of that sort. He’d go back to Nassau all right. That man’s cover’s as solid as J. P. Morgan and Company.’
The captain interrupted. ‘Leaving all that aside, Commander Bond, and sticking to the operational angles, how do you suggest he’s going to get that bomb out of the ship and right into the target area? I agree that according to the charts he can’t get much closer in the yacht, and if he did he might be in trouble with the waterfront guard at the missile station. I see from my dope on the place that they’ve got some kind of a guard-boat for chasing away fishermen and suchlike when they’re going to do a practice shoot.’
Bond said decisively, ‘I’m sure that’s the real purpose of the underwater compartment in the Disco. They’ve got one of those underwater sleds in there, and probably an electric torpedo to haul it. They’ll load the bomb on the sled and take it in with a team of underwater swimmers, lay it and come back to the ship. Otherwise, why have all that underwater gear?’
The captain said slowly, ‘You may be right, Commander. It makes sense. But so what do you want me to do about it?’
Bond looked the captain in the eye. ‘There’s only one moment to nail these people. If we show our hand too soon, the Disco can get the hell away — only a few hundred yards maybe, and dump the bombs in a hundred fathoms. The only time to get them, and the bomb, the first bomb anyway, is when that team has left the ship and is on its way to the laying point. We’ve got to get their underwater team with our underwater team. The second bomb, if it’s aboard, doesn’t matter. We can sink the ship with the second bomb inside her.’
