I AM BOND, JAMES BOND – The Books Behind The Movies: 20 Book Collection. Ian Fleming
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They keep their chief aware of the progress of their investigations. I know these things. Secret agents do not behave as you suggest you have done. You have been reading too many novels of suspense. Your little speech reeked of grease-paint and cardboard. No, Mister Bond, I do not accept your story. If it is true, I am prepared to face the consequences. I have too much at stake to be turned from my path. So the police come, the soldiers come. Where are a man and a girl? What man and what girl? I know nothing. Please go away. You are disturbing my guanera. Where is your evidence? Your search warrant? The English law is strict, gentlemen. Go home and leave me in peace with my beloved cormorants. You see, Mister Bond? And let us even say that the worst comes to the worst. That one of my agents talks, which is highly improbable (Bond remembered the fortitude of Miss Chung). What have I to lose? Two more deaths on the charge sheet. But, Mister Bond, a man can only be hanged once.’ The tall pear-shaped head shook gently from side to side. ‘Have you anything else to say? Any questions to ask? You both have a busy night ahead of you. Your time is getting short. And I must get my sleep. The monthly ship is putting in tomorrow and I have the loading to supervise. I shall have to spend the whole day down on the quay. Well, Mister Bond?’
Bond looked across at the girl. She had gone deathly pale. She was gazing at him, waiting for the miracle he would work. He looked down at his hands. He examined his nails carefully. He said, playing for time, ‘And then what? After your busy day with the bird dung, what comes next on your programme? What is the next chapter you think you’re going to write?’
Bond didn’t look up. The deep quiet authoritative voice came to him as if it was coming down from the night sky.
‘Ah, yes. You must have been wondering, Mister Bond. You have the habit of inquiry. It persists even to the last, even into the shadows. I admire such qualities in a man with only a few hours to live. So I will tell you. I will turn over the next page. It will console you. There is more to this place than bird dung. Your instincts did not betray you.’ Doctor No paused for emphasis. ‘This island, Mister Bond, is about to be developed into the most valuable technical intelligence centre in the world.’
‘Really?’ Bond kept his eyes bent on his hands.
‘Doubtless you know that Turks Island, about three hundred miles from here through the Windward Passage, is the most important centre for testing the guided missiles of the United States?’
‘It is an important centre, yes.’
‘Perhaps you have read of the rockets that have been going astray recently? The multi-stage SNARK, for instance, that ended its flight in the forests of Brazil instead of the depths of the South Atlantic?’
‘Yes.’
‘You recall that it refused to obey the telemetred instructions to change its course, even to destroy itself. It developed a will of its own?’
‘I remember.’
‘There have been other failures, decisive failures, from the long list of prototypes – the ZUNI, MATADOR, PETREL, REGULUS, BOMARC – so many names, so many changes, I can’t even remember them all. Well, Mister Bond,’ Doctor No could not keep a note of pride out of his voice, ‘it may interest you to know that the vast majority of those failures have been caused from Crab Key.’
‘Is that so?’
‘You do not believe me? No matter. Others do. Others who have seen the complete abandonment of one series, the MASTODON, because of its recurring navigational errors, its failure to obey the radio directions from Turks Island. Those others are the Russians. The Russians are my partners in this venture. They trained six of my men, Mister Bond. Two of those men are on watch at this moment, watching the radio frequencies, the beams on which these weapons travel. There is a million dollars’ worth of equipment up above us in the rock galleries, Mister Bond, sending fingers up into the Heavyside Layer, waiting for the signals, jamming them, countering beams with other beams. And from time to time a rocket soars up on its way a hundred, five hundred miles into the Atlantic. And we track it, as accurately as they are tracking it in the Operations Room on Turks Island. Then, suddenly, our pulses go out to the rocket, its brain is confused, it goes mad, it plunges into the sea, it destroys itself, it roars off at a tangent. Another test has failed. The operators are blamed, the designers, the manufacturers. There is panic in the Pentagon. Something else must be tried, different frequencies, different metals, a different radio brain. Of course,’ Doctor No was fair, ‘we too have our difficulties. We track many practice shoots without being able to get through to the brain of the new rocket. But then we communicate urgently with Moscow. Yes, they have even given us a cipher machine with our own frequencies and routines. And the Russians get thinking. They make suggestions. We try them out. And then, one day, Mister Bond, it is like catching the attention of a man in a crowd. Up in the stratosphere the rocket acknowledges our signal. We are recognized and we can speak to it and change its mind.’ Doctor No paused. ‘Do you not find that interesting, Mister Bond, this little sideline to my business in guano? It is, I assure you, most profitable. It might be still more so. Perhaps Communist China will pay more. Who knows? I already have my feelers out.’
Bond lifted his eyes. He looked thoughtfully at Doctor No. So he had been right. There had been more, much more, in all this than met the eye. This was a big game, a game that explained everything, a game that was certainly, in the international espionage market, well worth the candle. Well, well! Now the pieces in the puzzle fell firmly into place. For this it was certainly worth scaring away a few birds and wiping out a few people. Privacy? Of course Doctor No would have to kill him and the girl. Power? This was it. Doctor No had really got himself into business.
Bond looked into the two black holes with a new respect. He said, ‘You’ll have to kill a lot more people to keep this thing in your hands, Doctor No. It’s worth a lot of money. You’ve got a good property here – a better one than I thought. People are going to want to cut themselves a piece of this cake. I wonder who will get to you first and kill you. Those men up there,’ he gestured towards the ceiling, ‘who were trained in Moscow? They’re the technicians. I wonder what Moscow is telling them to do? You wouldn’t know that, would you?’
Doctor No said, ‘You persist in underestimating me, Mister Bond. You are an obstinate man, and stupider than I had expected. I am aware of these possibilities. I have taken one of these men and made him into a private monitor. He has duplicates of the ciphers and of the cipher machine. He lives in another part of the mountain. The others think that he died. He watches on all the routine times. He gives me a second copy of all the traffic that passes. So far, the signals from Moscow have been innocent of any sign of conspiracy. I am thinking of these things constantly, Mister Bond. I take precautions and I shall take further precautions. As I said, you underestimate me.’
‘I don’t underestimate you, Doctor No. You’re a very careful man, but you’ve got too many files open on you. In my line of business, the same thing applies to me. I know the feeling. But you’ve got some really bad ones. The Chinese one, for instance. I wouldn’t like to have that one. The F.B.I. should be the least painful – robbery and false identity. But do you know the Russians as well as I do? You’re a “best friend” at the moment. But the Russians don’t have partners. They’ll want to take you over – buy you out with a bullet. Then there’s the file you’ve started with my Service. You really want me to make that one fatter? I shouldn’t do it if I were you, Doctor No. They’re a tenacious lot of people in my Service. If anything happens to me and the girl, you’ll find Crab Key’s a very small and naked little island.’
‘You cannot play for high stakes without taking risks, Mister Bond. I accept the dangers and, so far as I can, I have equipped myself against them. You see, Mister Bond,’ the deep voice held a hint of greed, ‘I am on the edge of still greater things. The Chapter Two to which I referred holds the promise of prizes which no one but a fool would throw away because he was afraid. I have told you that I can bend the beams on which these rockets fly, Mister Bond. I can make them change course and ignore their radio control. What would you say, Mister Bond, if I could go further? If I could bring them down into the sea near this island and salvage the secrets of their construction. At present American destroyers, far out in the South Atlantic, salvage these missiles when they