Quinn stared steadily into Bond’s eyes. The man did know something more. ‘Why Paris? Remember Tabby.’
‘The rules are it’s to be Berlin, Paris or London. They want your head, Bond, but they want to see it done. We were out to claim the reward and just taking your head wasn’t enough. My instructions were to get you to Paris. The people there have orders to pick you up, and . . .’
He stopped, as though he’d already said enough.
‘And deliver the package?’
There was fifteen seconds’ silence.
‘Yes.’
‘Deliver it where?’
‘To the Man.’
‘Tamil Rahani? The head of SPECTRE?’
‘Yes.’
‘Deliver it where?’ Bond repeated.
No response.
‘Remember Tabby, Quinn. I’ll see Tabby suffers great pain before she dies. Then they’ll come for you. Where am I to be delivered?’
The silence stretched for what seemed to be minutes.
‘Florida.’
‘Where in Florida? Big place, Florida. Where? Disney World?’
Quinn looked away. ‘The most southern tip of the United States,’ he said.
‘Ah.’ Bond nodded.
The Florida Keys, he thought. Those linked islands that stretch 150 kilometres out into the ocean. Bahai Honda Key, Big Pine Key, Cudjoe Key, Boca Chica Key – the names of the most famous ones flicked through his mind. But, the southernmost tip – well, that was Key West, once the home of Ernest Hemingway, a narcotics route, a tourist paradise, with a sprinkling of islands outside the reef. Ideal, thought Bond. Key West – who would have imagined SPECTRE setting up its headquarters there?
‘Key West,’ he said aloud, and Quinn gave a small, ashamed nod. ‘Paris, London or Berlin. They could have included Rome and other major cities. Anywhere they could get me on to a direct Miami flight, eh?’
‘I suppose so.’
‘Where exactly in Key West?’
‘That I don’t know. Honestly, I just do not know.’
Bond shrugged as though to say it did not matter.
The door opened and Kirchtum came in. He was smiling as he flourished a kidney bowl covered with a cloth.
‘I have what you need, I think.’
‘Good,’ said Bond, smiling back, ‘and I think I have what I need. Put him out, Herr Doktor.’
Quinn did not resist as Kirchtum rolled up his sleeve, swabbed a patch on the upper right arm and slid the hypodermic needle in. It took less than ten seconds for his body to relax and the head to loll over. Bond was already busy with the straps again.
‘He will have a good four to five hours’ sleeping. You are leaving?’
‘Yes, when I’ve made sure he can’t get away once he wakes up. One of my people should arrive here before then, to see that he gets the telephone call from his watcher and relays it on to his source. I have to arrange that. My man will use the words, “I’ll met by moonlight.” You reply, “Proud Titania.” Got it?’
‘This is Shakespeare, the Summer Midnight Dream, ja?’
‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream, ja, Herr Doktor.’
‘So, summer midnight, midsummer night’s, what’s the difference?’
‘It obviously mattered to Mr Shakespeare. Better get it right.’ Bond smiled at the bear-like doctor. ‘Can you deal with all this?’
‘Try me, Herr Bond.’
Five minutes later, Bond was heading back to the Saab. He drove fast to the hotel. In his room he called Nannie to apologise for keeping them waiting.
‘There’s been a slight change of plan,’ he told her. ‘Just stand by. Tell Sukie. I’ll be in touch soon. With luck, we’ll be leaving within the hour.’
‘What the hell’s going on?’ Nannie sounded peeved.
‘Just stay put. Don’t worry, I won’t leave without you.’
‘I should jolly well think not,’ she snapped, banging down the receiver.
Bond smiled to himself, opened up the briefcase containing the CC500 scrambler and attached it to the telephone. Though he was, to all intents and purposes, on his own, it was time to call for some limited assistance from the Service.
He dialled the London Regent’s Park number, knowing the line would be safe now he had taken out the team at the clinic, and asked for the Duty Officer who came on almost immediately. After identifying himself, Bond began to issue his instructions. There was information he wanted relayed fast to M, and on to the Vienna Resident. He was precise and firm, saying that there was only one way to deal with the matter – his way. Otherwise they could lose the chance of a lifetime. SPECTRE had made themselves into a sitting target, which only he could smash. His instructions had to be carried out to the letter. He ended by repeating the hotel number and his room and asked for a call-back as quickly as possible.
It took just over fifteen minutes. M had okayed all Bond’s instructions and the operation was already running from Vienna. A private jet would bring in a team of five – three men and two women. They would wait at Salzburg airport for Bond who should get clearance for a private flight to Zurich on his Universal Export passport B. Bookings were made on the Pan American Flight 115 from Zurich to Miami, departing at 10.15 local time. Bond thanked the Duty Officer and was about to close the line when he was stopped.
‘Predator.’
‘Yes?’
‘Private message from M.’
‘Go on.’
‘He says, “England expects”. Nelson, I suppose – “England expects that every man will do his duty.” ’
‘Yes,’ Bond replied irritably. ‘I do know the quotation.’
‘And he says good luck, sir.’
He knew he would need every ounce of luck that came his way. He unhooked the CC500 and dialled Nannie’s room.
‘All set. We’re almost ready for the off.’
‘About time. Where are we going?’
‘Off to see the Wizard.’ Bond laughed without humour. ‘The Wonderful Wizard of Oz.’
13
GOOD EVENING, MR BOLDMAN
‘James. James, you’re going the wrong way. You left the Bentley in the car park to the left. Remember?’
‘Don’t tell the whole world, Sukie. We’re not using the Bentley.’
On his way back, after parking the Saab, he had made a quick detour, and used the old trick of sticking the Bentley’s keys up the exhaust pipe. It was not as safe as he would have liked, but it would have to do. Now they were lugging their suitcases to the Saab.
‘Not . . .’ There was an intake of breath from Nannie.
‘We have alternative transport,’ Bond said crisply, his voice sharp with authority.
His plan to outflank SPECTRE depended entirely on caution and timing. He had even considered ditching Sukie and Nannie, leaving them in the hotel. But, unless he could isolate them, it was a safer course to take them along. They had already shown their determination to remain with him anyway. Dumping them now was asking for trouble.
‘I hope your American visas are up to date,’ Bond said, once they had packed everything into the car and he had started the engine.
‘American?’ Sukie’s voice rose in a petulant squeak.
‘Visas not okay?’
He edged out of the parking place and began to negotiate the streets that would take them on to the airport road.
‘Of course they are!’ Nannie sounded cross.
‘I haven’t a thing to wear,’ Sukie said loudly.
‘Jeans and a shirt will do where we’re going.’
Bond smiled as he turned on to the Innsbruck road. The Flughafen sign was illuminated for a second in his headlights.
‘Another thing,’ he added. ‘Before we leave this car you’ll have to stow your hardware in one of my cases. We’re heading for Zurich, then flying direct to the States. I have a shielded compartment in my big case and our weapons will have to go in there. From Zurich we’ll be on commercial airlines.’