When they got to the cliff, Baack said, “It’s high time to kill, James. You first.”
“You’re making a big mistake, Paul,” Bond said. “How are you going to get down the mountain by yourself?”
“I’m an experienced mountaineer. I’ll be fine. You’ll get there before me, though. You’re going headfirst.”
Bond turned to face him. Baack was still holding the gun to Hope’s head.
“You’re going to have to push me,” he said.
“Either you jump off the edge, or you get to see me blow a hole in her head. Which is it?”
Bond looked at Hope and peered through the goggles. He could see a flicker of understanding in her eyes. Bond blinked twice.
Hope raised her right boot and kicked Baack hard in the shin. The sharp points of the crampon dug through his clothing and into his skin.
Baack screamed. Hope pushed the gun away and dropped to her knees. At the same time, Bond lunged for the big man. They fell together and rolled. The VP70 arced through the air and made a deep hole in the snow.
Bond hit Baack hard in the face, cracking the goggles. Baack roared like a bear, grabbed Bond’s hood, and pulled it off. The cold air felt like needles on Bond’s skin and head. Baack’s large hand fixed on Bond’s face, his fingers digging into the skin and pushing him back.
There was genuine strength behind Baack’s size. Bond fell backward, giving his opponent time to regain his balance and stand. He kicked Bond hard in the chest, the crampons ripping the fabric like tiger claws. The boot came down again, but Bond grabbed Baack’s ankle and twisted it sharply. Baack yelled again and lost his balance. He toppled over, dangerously close to the edge of the cliff.
Bond wasted no time counterattacking. He leaped on top of the big man and attempted to roll him over. Baack lodged his shoulder against a rock to brace himself, but it was very slippery from ice. As he started to slip over it, he took hold of Bond’s parka and said, “You’re coming with me!”
Hope jumped into action and held Bond’s legs. “I’ve got you!”
Bond kept pushing and hitting the man, forcing him closer to the dropoff. Finally, Baack’s waist went over, pulling his legs with it. Now he was hanging on to Bond’s shoulders for dear life. His weight was dragging them both over the cliff. Hope dug her crampons into the ground, trying her best to keep Bond from sliding forward.
Bond was face-to-face with Baack. Now there was terror in the man’s eyes, but he wasn’t about to plead for mercy.
“Going down, James?” he said through clenched teeth. “First floor . . . lingerie?”
Bond dug his fingers into Baack’s hands, trying to wrench them away from his parka.
Christ!” Hope said, gasping for air. “I can’t . . . hold . . . much . . . longer!”
Bond felt his torso slipping forward. Except for his head, shoulders, and arms, Baack’s entire body was now over the edge.
The Union . . . will . . . crush . . . you,” he spat out between gasps.
A blast of cold wind reminded Bond that his hood was off, and that sensation prompted Bond’s next action. He slammed his forehead into Baack’s, inflicting the hardest possible head-butt he could give Baack’s eyes rolled up into his head as his hands loosened their grip ‘ Bond broke free, sending the man off the cliff and into space.
“Aaaaaiiiiiieeeee . . . !”
Bond inched back onto the ledge and held Hope in his arms as the scream faded into thin air.
“Just like in the movies . . .” he said.
It took them three days to get to the Base Camp, where Ang Tshering met them with open arms. Since he had heard nothing by mobile phone, he was convinced they were dead. He had resolved to wait a few more days before leading the surviving team members back to Taplejung.
That night they built shrines to the men who had died on the mountain. Bond spent two hours scratching Chandra’s name on a stone, then drove a piton in above it and attached a white prayer scarf through the eye. When Hope made a stone for Roland Marquis, he made no objections.
They began the long trek back to civilization the next morning. Bond had regained much of his strength after descending the mountain, and the rest at Base Camp worked wonders. Bond and Hope were inseparable, ignoring the disapproving looks of the Sherpas. The Nepalese, shaking their heads, would never understand the decadent ways of the west.
The couple made the seven-day journey a memorable one, if not by day, then certainly by night. They made love for hours every evening after dinner, knowing full well that they might never see each other again after they left Nepal.
One night, as they lay naked in the sleeping bag at the Gunsa campsite, Bond lit his first cigarette in weeks, coughed loudly, then said, “You realize that we’ve been to the brink of disaster and lived to tell the tale.”
“What has it taught you?” she asked. “Other than that you really should give up smoking.”
“No way,” he said, taking another drag. “Actually, I’ve been thinking about our earlier conversation concerning limitations.
Despite what my government thinks, I’m just a man. You don’t realize how mortal you really are until you’re fighting for your life at eight thousand meters.”
“In my opinion,” she said, “you’re the finest specimen of a man I’ve ever seen. Speaking as a medical doctor, of course.”
He smiled. “Hope, you saved my life up there. More than once. I’ll be forever grateful.”
“Don’t mention it. I’ve learned a lot as well.”
“Such as?”
She sighed. “I don’t think I have something to prove anymore. Hey, I summited the third tallest mountain in the world, right? I now know that the capabilities of the human machine are far greater than I could ever have imagined. I need not concern myself with limitations anymore, because there are no such things.”
“Doesn’t one’s mind have a lot to do with it as well?” he asked. “Without the will, the body doesn’t have much of a chance.”
“Quite right,” she said. She reached between his legs and held him. “Speaking of will, will you please make love to me again?”
She didn’t have to ask him twice.
They said good-bye at the Kathmandu airport. She was flying to Bangkok, then on to Auckland. He was traveling in the opposite direction, to London by way of Delhi.
As her flight was called over the intercom, she said, “Take care of yourself, James. Keep in touch.”
“I’m not very good at that,” Bond admitted. “But we can try.”
Hope placed a hand over his face and let her fingers run smoothly over the faint scar on his cheek. She gazed into his clear blue eyes, then pushed the comma of black hair off his forehead. She leaned up and kissed the cruel mouth she had come to know so well. Without another word she turned away, picked up her bag, and walked toward the gate. Bond watched her as a wave of melancholy washed over him. It was a familiar friend, a bittersweet companion for his wretchedly solitary life. Hope handed her ticket to the flight attendant, then went through the door to board her plane.
She never looked back.
TWENTY-SIX
THE COLD STONE HEART
M LOOKED HARD AT Bill Tanner and said, “I don’t care how little time you’ve had. I want your new proposal for security procedures on my desk in the morning!”
“Yes, ma’am,” Tanner said. He stood, glanced at Bond, and left the office. M turned to Bond, took a breath to redirect her thoughts, then said, “Needless to say, the Minister is very happy with your work on this case. Skin 17 was returned to the DERA and they have some new people working on it. I must admit I had my doubts about this one, Double-O Seven, but you pulled through. Well done.”
Bond sat stiffly across from his chief with a frown on his face. He wasn’t used to such praise. It disturbed him. There also seemed to be an edge to her voice that wasn’t quite right.