Bond Movies 07 - Die Another Day

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Bond Movies 07 - Die Another Day Page 4

by Raymond Benson


  ‘No, Double-0 Seven. You’re going to our secure unit in the Falklands for evaluation.’

  She started for the opening in the wall and Bond said, ‘I exchange one cell for another, just so you can save face with the Americans?’

  M stopped and turned. She eyed him evenly and said, ‘This isn’t about me, Bond. Lives are at risk and I will do anything to protect the integrity of the Service.’ She paused, took a breath and said, ‘You’re no use to anyone now.’

  As she left the room, Bond stood beside the bed. His face settled into a picture of grim resolve.

  We’ll see about that, he thought.

  The mobile military hospital was quiet and still at two o’clock in the morning. Most of the staff had gone to the barracks, M had left with Robinson on the long trip back to Great Britain and the few patients staying there were asleep.

  James Bond had fretted much of the day away after his humiliating meeting with his chief. He could scarcely believe that M really meant what she had said. He refused to accept that it was all over.

  But for the moment there was nothing he could do. Still weak from the ordeal in North Korea, Bond went to bed and focused his mind on his heartbeat, practising the exercise he had learned to help him relax, push away stress and slow down his metabolism. He felt his heart slow down and become tranquil. He drifted away from the hospital room, floating on his thoughts and memories again.

  The medic on duty outside the observation room glanced at Bond’s vital signs on the monitor. He noted that the heart rate had indeed slowed as the patient fell into a deep sleep. The young man went back to his paperback thriller and had read a few more lines when the alarm rang. Jolted by the noise, he looked at the monitor again and was stunned to see that the electronic line representing Bond’s heart was moving straight and level, with no pulsating blips. He slammed his hand on the intercom button and summoned the doctor on call.

  Not more than fifty seconds later, the doctor, medic and a nurse ran into Bond’s room and found him lying lifeless on the bed, his arms dangling. The doctor looked at the nurse and she understood what to do without receiving an order. She ran out and returned twenty seconds later pushing the CPR trolley. Meanwhile the doctor felt Bond’s pulse and shook his head. The nurse bent over the patient and gave him the kiss of life, then alternated with the medic, who began pumping Bond’s chest. For two full minutes they worked, but the EKG showed no change. The doctor finally ripped open Bond’s shirt and slapped conductor gel over his chest. The medic powered up the CPR trolley and took hold of the pads.

  ‘Are you ready?’ the doctor asked. The medic nodded. ‘Clear!’

  The medic positioned the pads just over Bond’s skin and was about to make contact when the patient’s eyes flicked open. Before the staff knew what was happening, they heard the heartbeat race back up to speed. In the microsecond of the medic’s confusion, Bond grabbed the pads from his hands and turned them on the medic and the doctor.

  The ensuing charge threw the two men across the room.

  Bond swung off the bed and advanced to the open airlock. He stopped momentarily to pick up a sealed bundle of his prison clothes from a bin and looked at the astonished nurse.

  ‘I’m checking out,’ he said.

  He smiled disarmingly as he closed the airlock on her and the two recovering men.

  ‘Thanks for the kiss of life,’ he said through the intercom.

  Bond was out and away from the hospital before anyone else knew what he had done.

  05 - Seoul Feud

  James Bond had spent little time in Seoul but knew enough about the place to blend in when and where he needed to. The semi-seedy neighbourhood called It’aewon in Yongsan-gu, north of the Han River and south of Namsan Park was famous for its bars and nightlife. A nearby military base contributed to the notoriety of this older' part of central Seoul, with its long history of cheap hotels, prostitution and ‘bargain’ shopping, which really meant that most of the goods were stolen. Even though there were legitimate luxury hotels and department stores in the area, Bond knew that It’aewon was the place to go for a more ‘colourful’ consumer experience.

  Bond walked through an infamous alleyway known by the locals as ‘hooker hill’, where in the space of three minutes he was propositioned by four different women, offered leather jackets and custom-made suits by two dubious salesmen and presented with ‘real’ Rolex wristwatches by a teenager. Bond did his best to ignore the hawkers and concentrated on finding a suitable bar frequented by GIs. The smell of hot food from the stalls reminded him that he was ferociously hungry, for all he had eaten in months was rubbish - and that included what he’d been served in the hospital. Unfortunately, he had very little money and getting some was his first priority.

  The Top Hat was located off the main drag in a darkened alley that probably wasn’t a particularly safe place to be if one were not accustomed to the ways of the street. Luckily Bond’s shabby appearance' went a long way towards deflecting any interest that the common thugs might have in him.

  Bond went inside the smoky bar and found that the decor did nothing to justify its incongruous name. He had once met an MI6 operative in The Top Hat many years ago and remembered that the place was busy even in the middle of the afternoon. As he had hoped, there were a dozen South Korean and four American GIs slumped over drinks or flirting with the ‘hostesses’.

  Bond sat at the bar and placed the three US dollars on the counter. It was all that he had. The bartender looked at him and asked what he wanted. Bond ordered a beer, which was all he could afford. It was the first alcohol he had had since before his holiday in North Korea and it tasted wonderful.

  The GIs were noisy, harassing the two young hostesses with crude comments and laughter. The girls seemed to encourage it, though and at one point one of the Americans got up and approached, a broad-shouldered man who sat beside a door leading to a rickety stairway. Bond watched carefully as the soldier gave the man a wad of Korean won and then crooked his finger at one of the hostesses. She smiled and went with him through the door and up the stairs. The man by the door stuffed the money in his trouser pocket and continued to read the Korean newspaper he had on his lap. It was a Korean edition of Tomorrow, a paper that Bond assumed was under new management since its demise a few years ago.

  Bond finished the beer and walked over to the man.

  ‘How much?’ he asked in English, slurring his words and pretending to be drunk.

  ‘Go away,’ the man said.

  ‘Come on, how much? I’m as good as any of these blokes.’

  ‘Get lost, or I’ll smash your face in’ the man said menacingly.

  ‘What’s the matter? How come I can’t go upstairs too?’

  The man got off his stool and grabbed Bond by the collar. ‘Look, mister, get out of here. Now!’ They scuffled.

  ‘Hey, what’cha doing?’ Bond protested drunkenly, putting up a pitiful defence. He purposely lost his balance and fell forward into the man, knocking them both to the floor. The pimp lost his temper and swore violently. Bond rolled on top of the man and said, ‘I’m so sorry, sir, forgive me, I guess I must have’

  The man kneed Bond hard in the stomach and got up, then he dragged Bond across the floor. The GIs, bartender and the other girl watched with amusement as the pimp threw Bond outside.

  ‘Don’t come back!’ the man yelled.

  Bond picked himself up and staggered away, mailtaining the illusion that he was hopelessly intoxicated Once he was around the comer and out of sight, he regained his composure and pulled the clump of won that he had lilted from the pimp out of his pocket.

  He counted the money and found that he had enough to buy some decent clothes, have a good meal and perhaps Bribe his way off the Korean peninsula.

  M walked into the office at MI6 headquarters in London, ready to begin the day but slightly weary from the time she had spent in Korea. It had been not only a physical drain but an emotional one as well. The memory of her final conversation
with Bond was an unpleasant one. She wasn’t too sure whether to believe his story but she also knew that she couldn’t I compromise her country’s policies. Nevertheless, telling the man who was once her best agent that he was no longer of any use had saddened her deeply.

  As she entered her outer office she saw that Moneypenny and Robinson were engaged in an intense conversation.

  ‘Good morning,’ M announced.

  They looked up, surprised and returned the greeting.

  ‘Welcome back, ma’am,’ Moneypenny said.

  ‘You two look as if you were caught with your hands in the till. What’s going on?’

  Robinson and Moneypenny exchanged glances and then he spoke. ‘It’s Double-O Seven, ma’am. He's gone.’

  ‘What do you mean, gone?’

  ‘Escaped from the hospital. He apparently assaulted a doctor and an orderly and left the premises. The MPs lost him on the road to Seoul.’

  M wasn’t terribly surprised. ‘I wondered how long it would take. Were the doctor and orderly hurt badly?’

  ‘Just shaken.’

  ‘Not stirred,’ Moneypenny added.

  M glared at her and proceeded towards the door to her office. ‘Robinson, stay on it. I’d like to be kept informed. In the meantime, alert all of our station heads that we’re looking for him.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  M went into the inner office and shut the door. She sighed heavily as she saw the pile of letters and reports that required her attention.

  She did, however, allow herself a smile at Robinson’s news.

  Bond was dressed in the inexpensive dark blue knit shirt and khaki trousers that he had bought from a street vendor. Now, instead of looking like one of the homeless, he resembled a rather hip university professor who simply needed a haircut and a shave. He immediately went to an outdoor cafe and ordered a bowl of kimch’i, a staple of the Korean diet. The dish consisted of chopped vegetables mixed with chilli, garlic and ginger and it was fermented in an earthenware pot. He followed this with a plate of pulgogi -barbecued beef marinated in soy sauce, sesame oil, garlic and chilli. To wash it down, Bond stuck with beer and tried one of the Korean brands, OB. Finally because it had been ages since he had tasted any, he ordered aisuk'urim - ice-cream - for dessert '

  Feeling one-hundred-and-ten per cent better, Bond went back to the alley where The Top Hat was located and stood in an alcove. Another bar across the street looked promising, but first Bond took stock of his funds. He had the equivalent of a hundred and forty pounds in Korean won. It would have to do.

  He watched several servicemen go into The GI Joe, the establishment across the road. Like the previous bar, it was rowdy and smoky, inhabited mostly by South Koreans in naval uniforms. Bond took a seat near them and ordered another beer. They spoke fast but were loud enough for Bond to catch much of what they were saying. One sailor with a rose tattoo on his forearm was complaining about having to go to Hong Kong again in the morning and that he would miss his girlfriend. The others taunted him with obscene jokes. The sailor insulted them in return and they laughed in good fun.

  After a while, a rough-looking civilian entered the bar and looked over the clientele. He saw the tattooed man, went to him and asked about some money.

  ‘I don’t have it, I’ll pay you when I get back from Hong Kong,’ Mr Tattoo said.

  ‘I bet you just spent a hundred dollars US on drinks!’ the other man complained. ‘I think you had better cough up the money tonight. You may not come back from Hong Kong!’

  ‘I’ll be back, don’t worry, my girlfriend is here.’

  The civilian cursed the man’s girlfriend and pulled a gun. He held it to the sailor’s head and said, ‘You’re not going to make it to Hong Kong unless you pay me my money.’

  The bartender shouted, ‘Take your feud outside or I will call the police!’ The other sailors stood, ready for a fight. The man with the gun threatened to shoot the tattooed man if his friends came closer.

  ‘It’s all right,’ Mr Tattoo said to the other sailors as he stood. ‘This man is a friend of mine. We have to settle a business deal.’

  ‘Let’s go outside,’ the civilian said. He shoved the tattooed man outside and turned to the others. ‘Leave us alone.’

  As soon as they were outside, Bond got up and nonchalantly went after them. He stepped into the dark alleyway, looked around, but didn’t see anyone. Then he heard some hushed arguing not far away, in one of the alcoves. Bond quietly walked towards the two man until he could see the civilian’s back. The gun was in the sailor’s face and the man was terrified.

  Bond tapped the gunman on the shoulder and said, ‘Excuse me.’

  The thug turned around and caught a staggering blow in the nose. Bond quickly disarmed the man, kneed him in the stomach and rammed his head into the wall. The creep fell to the ground, unconscious.

  The sailor looked at Bond with awe and suspicion.

  ‘I couldn’t help overhearing. If you need some money, I have a proposition for you.’ Bond said.

  The sailor shook his head. ‘Get out of here,’ he said. ‘Don't you know who that was?’

  ‘No and I really don’t care.’

  ‘That was Kim Dong, a very dangerous man!’. Bond regarded the hoodlum on the ground and said, ‘He doesn’t look like much of a threat to me,’ and turned back to the bar. The sailor warily followed him inside and they sat at the counter.

  His friends started to get up and come over to him, but the sailor waved them away. Bond slapped the rest of his won on the counter.

  ‘This is twice what you owe and it’s all I have. But if you can get me on your ship tonight and take me to Hong Kong, it’s yours,' Bond said.

  ‘Are you crazy? How am I going to do that?’

  ‘You have a duffel bag, don’t you? Part of your gear?’

  ‘Yes ...’ The man looked dubious.

  ‘I’ll hide inside. You carry me aboard and let me get out of the bag where I can’t be seen. I promise you I’ll get out of your way and you won’t see me again for the entire trip. I used to be in the Royal Navy, I know ships. I can find a safe hiding-place and no one will find me. And if they do, you won’t be implicated.'‘

  I don’t know ...’

  ‘All right, I’ll double it after I get to Hong Kong,' Bond said. ‘Just give me your name and outfit details and I’ll wire the money to you.'

  ‘What, you give your word, as a "gentleman!"?’ the man asked sceptically.

  'Absolutely.'

  ‘You’re mad. Why should I trust you?’

  ‘Why did I stick out my neck for you just now?’

  ‘Because you’re crazy!’

  Bond smiled. ‘Maybe I am. But not like you think.’

  They went to the base, which was located west of Seoul near Inch’on. A sizeable fleet was stationed there and the South Koreans used it to make frequent patrols around the peninsula, to Japan and backend around the Chinese mainland to Hong Kong. The sailor, whose name was Chae, made Bond wait outside the compound so that he could go to the barracks and retrieve his duffel bag. An hour later, Chae returned and put the bag on the ground.

  ‘I put clean clothes in it to help pad it out,’ he said.

  ‘I appreciate it,’ Bond said as he climbed in. Chae stuffed the extra clothing around Bond’s body and tied the end.

  ‘Can you breathe?’ Chae asked.

  ‘I’ll live,’ Bond’s muffled voice replied.

  Chae heaved the heavy bag over his shoulder and went back inside the compound, explaining to the sentry that his girlfriend had bought him a lot of new clothes.

  The sailors had to be ready at 5.00 in the morning. Chae waited until the last minute to load the duffel bag into the transport vehicle so that Bond would be on top of the pile. Chae climbed in with the other sailors and the truck left the compound for the short ride to the wharf where the Po Hang class corvette was docked. Fully armed with torpedoes, a variety of guns and missiles, depth charges and decoys, the 88-metre-lo
ng battleship was a typical vessel of the South Korean fleet.

  Chae carried Bond on board, then immediately went below to make his way to his quarters. A number of other sailors crowded the passageways, so Chae reversed his route and headed for the mess, took another turn and ended up in the laundry facility. No one was around there. He placed the bag on the floor and untied it.

  ‘You just better not be caught,’ Chae said.

  ‘I won’t. Thank you, Chae,’ Bond said as he climbed out

  Chae gave Bond two packages of rations. ‘Here, you might need these. It’s two days to Hong Kong.’

  ‘Much obliged,’ Bond said. ‘I’ll be sure to wire you that money.’

  ‘Forget about it,’ Chae said. ‘Before we left I heard that Kim Dong has a broken nose. That’s worth it.’

  Chae took his bag and quickly left the room, leaving Bond standing amidst piles of sheets and towels. As a former naval officer himself, Bond knew exactly how to stow away on board ship. The trick was to keep moving, never staying in one place for very long and, of course, to leave no tell-tale traces behind.

  The empty torpedo tube was a perfect place to recline. It reminded Bond of a sensory deprivation chamber,' albeit a rather cold and damp one. It usually held a 324mm MK 32 torpedo but luckily the compartment happened to be empty. Sleep came easily to him. His body still had a long way to go to reach recovery and deep slumber was what he needed. The sounds and smells of the battleship faded away as Bond floated into a state of Rapid Eye Movement and his subconscious began to take over. An indication that a dream was in progress, REM is marked by inactivity -save for the eye movement.

  Bond rarely remembered his dreams but he had one that night that was both disturbing and inauspicious.

  He was back in the North Korean prison. Strangely, the all too familiar cell felt like home.

  The sound of booted footsteps echoed in the hallway and the iron door creaked open. Colonel Moon stood in the doorway with an odd smile spreading across his face, as if he knew something that Bond didn’t Bond stood and said, ‘I’ll follow you, since you’re dead.’ He walked behind the colonel to the torture room, where more things were not quite right. nstead of ice cubes in the bathtub, there were diamonds. The scorpions in the cage had become leaves. Colonel Moon had changed as well; he was now wearing a mask. Or rather, the man in the North Korean uniform was wearing a mask that resembled the face of Colonel Moon.

 

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