‘And what about Double-0 Twelve?’
‘As the case now appears to be related to Sir Robert’s murder, I’ll see that you get the file on that, too. Double-0 Seven, I want you to go to Elektra. She’s taken over the construction of her father’s oil pipeline from the Caspian Sea.
Find out who switched that pin. If your instincts arc right, Renard will be back — and Elektra is the next target.’
‘The worm on the hook again,’ Bond said. ‘Protect the girl, but kill Renard?’
M gave Bond a silent acknowledgement with her eyes that the latter deed was understood.
‘Elektra doesn’t need to know the same man may be after her. Don’t frighten her.’
A shadow operation’
M narrowed her eyes at Bond. ‘Remember - shadows stay behind - or in front - but never on top.’
She knew him all too well.
04 - Blood and Oil
James Bond picked up the BMW Z8 in Turkey then drove East until he came to the southern range of the Caucasus, which forms the border between Turkey and Iran, and the former Soviet satellites of Georgia, Armenia, and Azerbaijan. The gigantic snow-capped peak of the volcano Mount Aergius floated above a layer of cloud, providing an overall effect that was breathtaking.
The Z8 had evolved naturally from the legendary BMW 507. It had been shipped as promised by the overly- efficient Q Branch Deputy (he also shipped the Aston- Martin, as he was sure 007 would ultimately need a backup). A two-seater open sports car with a sleek engine compartment and streamlined body design, the Z8 came equipped with a six-speed transmission and a 400-horse- power V-8 engine. Bond was so invigorated by the feel of its power that he had to continually remind himself to slow down.
After a while, the Z8 entered an area of desolate oil fields. The road snaked along an oil pipe that would ultimately lead Bond to his destination. He was all alone on the road, so he pushed the car to its limit. Still, he had a nagging feeling that he was being watched. He remained alert and vigilant, constantly checking his mirrors and heads-up display that would indicate the presence of other vehicles within a ten-mile radius. So far, though, he might as well have been the only person in the deserted valley.
The pipeline eventually moved into a dense, wooded area The car roared through the pines, keeping with the oil pipe. It wouldn’t be far now.
An icon flashed on the display. There was an aircraft above him. Two minutes later Bond could hear the sound of a helicopter. He looked out of the window and saw that it was a lifting aircraft, carrying a huge crate suspended beneath it. A King Industries logo was painted on the side of the crate.
The chopper passed Bond, moving ahead and beyond his vision. It was obviously headed for the construction site, too.
Still following the pipeline, Bond finally saw the end of the forest approaching. As the car emerged from the pines, a tiny speck on the vast landscape, Bond was fairly certain that his presence was already being announced by hidden guards, probably wearing forest camouflage.
The King Industries pipeline construction site was massive, teeming with ultra-modern robotic machines and vehicles, as well as an airstrip. It was a huge undertaking. Sir Robert’s intention was to open up a different oil pipeline to the west from the rich oil fields in the Caspian Sea. The project, which had already been running for a few years, had a long way to go. The difficult part would be digging through the mountains to the east and connecting with another part of the pipeline in Azerbaijan.
Bond pulled the BMW near the buildings marked as construction offices and stopped. He got out, squinting into the bright sun. A slim man in his early thirties stepped out of the office and smiled.
‘Can I help you?’ he asked. He had an accent that was somewhere between Ukrainian and Muscovite.
‘I’m looking for Elektra King,’ Bond said. He produced an ID card and showed it to the man. ‘My name is Bond. James Bond. Universal Exports.’
The man took the card, glanced at it, and then held out his hand. ‘Sasha Davidov. Head of Security. Nice to meet you.’ Bond shook his hand. The grip was firm. ‘And now you can call off the thugs standing behind me with the guns.’ Davidov was impressed. He smiled again, then made a motion behind Bond. Sure enough, three construction workers shouldered weapons and moved away.
‘Please don’t call them thugs,’ Davidov said. ‘It upsets them’
The two men shared a laugh just as the high-pitched whine of an executive helicopter filled the air.
‘I know Miss King is expecting you.’
The helicopter swooped in over the trees on its final approach. Bond put his hand to his brow. The scope of the site was staggering. Other helicopters were trailing giant saws that were cutting down trees to clear the pipeline right-of-way. Mammoth machines were dragging the trees away. It was a huge, awe-inspiring operation.
The lifting helicopter appeared overhead, still carrying the crate, and slowly descended. As soon as the crate touched the ground, workers moved in on it. A switch here, a lever there - and within moments, Bond could see that the object was, in fact, an expanding mobile office. The space within was increased by sliding the walls out; they operated much like filing cabinet drawers. Just as Elektra King’s helicopter landed on the runway in the distance, the mobile office had doubled its size and was ready for immediate operation.
Sasha Davidov and his men went into action as the jet taxied to a stop. Tense and alert, they drew their guns and scanned the perimeter. Bond joined in, falling easily into his job as Elektra King’s protector. He still felt as if they were being watched, but everything looked clear.
‘Have there been any threats?’ Bond asked Davidov. ‘No,’ the Head of Security said with tight lips. ‘We had a lot of trouble with sabotage for a long time. Not so much here, but
in Azerbaijan. Here they just throw rocks. The countrymen in Azerbaijan blew up stuff. I guess they did not approve of a pipeline being constructed through their home. Sir Robert was very worried about it. As far as he was concerned, they were terrorists. Miss King is more tolerant of their feelings. Anyway, I put in extra security. It seems to be all right now.’
‘But nothing here? Nothing recently?’ Bond asked.
‘No. But since - “the incident” with Sir Robert, we all feel terrible . . . Responsible . . .’
‘Because it happened on your watch?’
‘Of course.’
Across the tarmac, the helicopter stopped, the hatch opened and the stairs swung down. The new CEO of King Industries stepped out, beautiful and elegant as ever. She was immediately surrounded by a phalanx of security guards. Not looking at Bond, she strode directly toward the mobile office and entered.
‘Shall we?’ Davidov asked Bond.
He followed the Ukrainian inside the fully functional office. Everything appeared to have been in use for weeks - computers, phones, a kitchen and a wall map of the pipeline. Elektra was in the middle of a group of workmen, dressing down a foreman.
‘Moustafa!’ she said, using a teasing, warmly affectionate tone to express her displeasure. ‘You promised me that clearing would be finished last week. Are you telling me we're not going to meet my father's schedule?’
The foreman sheepishly replied, ‘We’ve had some trouble with the villagers at Ruan. Some sacred burial plot . . .’
She looked away, exasperated, noticing Davidov and Bond for the first time.
‘Miss King?’ Davidov interrupted. ‘Mister Bond is here to sec you.’
She nodded, then returned to the foreman. ‘Find me the research on the limestone deposits, place these orders, bring me the budget reports and get the jeep ready. I’ll deal with the problems at Ruan myself. . .’