‘How well did Elektra get along with her father?’
‘They fought all the time.’
‘Really?’
‘Let’s just say that they disagreed on business issues.5
‘Was Sir Robert well-liked in the company?’ Bond asked.
‘No one had any problems with him, as far as I know. I’ve been with the company for seven years. He was a good employer and had innovative ideas. I think the only one who ever argued with him was his daughter!'
‘What's the general feeling in the company about the change in management?'
‘Everyone loves Miss King. You've seen for yourself how she deals with people. As for her management abilities, it’s too early to tell for certain, but I think she'll be just fine.'
Ten minutes later, Elektra and the priest emerged. The priest went to his people and led them away while Elektra, a determined look on her face, strode to the survey crew’s foreman.
‘Reroute the pipe around,’ she ordered.
‘But it will take weeks, cost millions,’ he said. ‘Your father approved this route.’
‘Then my father was wrong,’ she said, it is a sacred burial ground. We have to respect the wishes of the people.’
‘But . . .’
‘Just do it.’
The foreman was surprised. It was the first time Elektra had asserted her authority. He didn’t question her.
She turned to Bond and said, ‘Well, Mister Bond, you’ve seen Ruan. Now you can go home to London and report that I’m fine. Tell M not to worry. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to check the upper lines’
‘I’ve always wanted to see the upper lines,’ Bond said. ‘Gabor will drive you back.’
‘Gabor can take care of himself’
She exchanged a look with Gabor. ‘So can I,’ she said. ‘Then I’m sure Gabor won’t mind.’
She glanced at her bodyguard a second time. The man made a gesture to indicate that he wasn’t offended.
‘You don’t take no for an answer, do you?’ she asked Bond. ‘No.’
She sighed. ‘Look, I have to go up into the mountains. There’s snow and ice up there so I have to do this on skis.’
‘Sounds like fun,’ he said cheerfully.
At first she looked as if she might hit him, but then she reluctantly grinned out of the side of her mouth. ‘Come on,’ she said, gesturing toward the helicopter.
Bond’s nagging feeling that they were being watched was not a product of his imagination. Had he or Sasha Davidov been able to peer into a clump of trees on a hill overlooking the village, they would have seen a man dressed in camouflage, perched on a branch and equipped with a walkie-talkie.
Renard put a pair of binoculars to his eyes and watched the entourage prepare to leave Ruan.
Yes, there was the MI6 man, Bond. Renard had been correct in assuming that M would send him. This would be his day of reckoning . . .
His eyes focused on the girl for a moment. She looked as beautiful as ever. An image flashed into his brain her tear- strewn face, her arms bound . . . Those eyes of hers . . . The silky-smooth skin . . . The memory was haunting, but Renard pushed it out of his mind and concentrated on the task at hand.
He waited until the jeep pulled away toward the construction site, then he spoke into the walkie-talkie.
‘Are they headed for the mountains?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ came the reply.
‘Then you know what to do. Proceed as planned. I’ll be waiting for your report’
‘Right’
‘One other thing . . ’ Renard paused for effect. T want to see the snow up there covered in blood’
05 - Snow Prey
The Dauphin swooped over the snowy wastes until it reached a mountain peak that Elektra indicated as their destination. The wind was buffeting.
‘Can’t land!’ the pilot shouted. ‘Wind's too strong!'
‘Hold her steady!’ Elektra called back. She moved her goggles down onto her face. ‘We’ll have to jump,’ she said to Bond. ‘You do ski, don’t you?’
‘Ladies first,’ Bond said, lowering his own goggles and putting on the all-mountain-carving skis he had borrowed from Davidov. The security man’s polypropylene jacket, fleece gloves, and ski pants with micro-fleece lining also happened to fit Bond. He slipped on the Q jacket over everything, glad that he had brought it along. Elektra wore a light parka jacket with a fur-lined hood and underarm zippers, down mittens, and ski pants similar to Bond’s. She stepped into her all-mountain skis made especially for women with lightweight core and soft flex pattern. She fitted her boots into the toe-holds and locked them down.
The cold wind rushed in when she opened the door. Without checking to see if Bond was ready, she leaped out and dropped fifteen feet, landing on the move. Bond jumped after her, but she was already way ahead. Her skiing was fearless.
Considering this a challenge, Bond went into the langlauf-
ing method of sliding forward, something his old instructor, Fuchs, had taught him. It was exhilarating to be on skis once again. The only thing more thrilling than speeding down snow-covered slopes was skydiving. The rush of wind on his body was invigorating as he felt his adrenaline kick in. The skis were good ones: they had a turning radius of twenty-six metres. Two ribs ran the length of the skis to deliver good torsional properties. Bond considered it important to have an excellent front to back flex with minimal bending from side to side, plus a smooth feeling of stability.
He caught up with her just as the slope levelled out. She pulled to the edge of a cliff and stopped cleanly. Bond arrived a moment behind her.
‘Not bad,’ she said. ‘You ski very well, Mister Bond.’
‘You seem to enjoy being chased. Probably happens all the time.'
‘Less often that you might think.’
She pointed to the sparkling, white valley below. A line of survey flags ran down the middle.
‘We’re building from both ends,’ she said, a bit breathless. ‘Four hundred miles in that direction are the new oil fields in the Caspian Sea. Four hundred miles that way is the Mediterranean,’
‘So they meet here,’ Bond said, appreciating the strategy behind the company’s plans.
‘When the Persian Gulf and all the other oil fields have dried up, which mil happen at the rate the world keeps increasing its demand for oil, this will once again be the heart of the earth. We’ll still be pumping our lifeblood. And this will be the main artery.’
‘Your father’s legacy?’
‘My family’s legacy. To the world’
They stood there a moment as she calculated distances in her head and studied the arrangement of survey flags. He watched her, admiring the determination and dedication she had for the work. He liked a girl who was passionate about something and he had to resist the urge to take her in his arms.
Without warning, she pushed off with her sticks and soared down the slope toward the flags. Bond chuckled to himself. The girl really did like to be chased. He saw right through her. This was all for his benefit - a test, perhaps, to see what he was made of. Well, if it was a chase she wanted . . .
He pushed off and followed her, manoeuvring easily between the survey markers. She zigzagged through them as if she were on a professional obstacle course. Bond mimicked her every move and stayed in perfect synchronisation behind her. At one point, she leapt over a ridge, sailed through the air for twenty feet and landed with the form of an Olympic champion. Bond went over the ridge with a little more speed than she did and almost spilled. He caught his balance as he landed, but he was thankful she hadn’t seen the slightly awkward jump.
She had stopped again by another ridge. He pulled up beside her and stopped.
‘You’re not getting tired are you?’ she asked, peering out over another slope of survey markers.
‘Not on your life,’ he replied. What a handful this girl was! He watched her as she studied the positions of the markers and made mental notes. What was especially attractive about her was the way she could appear aloof toward him; yet he could sense that she was watching him out of the comer of her eye at all times. Bond knew enough about women to glean that she was attempting to hide the fact that she was interested in him.