The barrels clattered down into the pit and burst into flame. As the fire licked the sides, Bond frantically searched for a way out and saw the arm of the robot lifter stretching toward an old shaft at the top of the ceiling. An abandoned lift? He took the chance that it might still be operational.
‘Up! Go!’ he shouted. He gave Christmas a boost. She grabbed the arm and crawled up and through some girders. Bond jumped up behind her and they emerged onto a catwalk just as the flames spread across the floor of the test centre.
‘No time to stop,’ Bond said, pulling her forward. ‘Those barrels down there will blow.’ They ran to the end of the walkway, where they indeed found an old hydraulic-powered lift.
‘I'm sure this old thing won't work,’ she said, her voice shaking.
‘We’ll never know unless we try!’
They got inside and Bond pushed the ‘Up’ button. The lift rumbled and then started to rise slowly. At that rate, they would suffocate. Bond peered over the side at the hydraulics.
‘Hang on,’ he said.
‘Okay,’ Christmas said. ‘So you’re a British spy. Do you have a name?’
Bond aimed his gun at the hissing hydraulics. He gave her a look out the comer of his eye.
‘The name is Bond . . .’
He fired the Walther. The hydraulic system blew out and the lift shot up through the shaft at breakneck speed, just as the entire pit exploded beneath them. Fire blew up the shaft, kissing the bottom of the cab. Bond lunged, covering Christmas. After a few moments, the smoke cleared.
‘. . .James Bond,’ he finished.
Outside the facility, Renard, Truhkin and their last man pushed the bomb into the back of the Land Rover. They got in and drove quickly to the runway.
The lift stopped at the top of the shaft, but the doors refused to open. Christmas was coughing, blinded from the smoke. Soon there wouldn’t be any oxygen left at all. Bond shone his illuminated wristwatch at the top of the cab and could make out a sealed duct cover.
‘Hold your ears!’ he shouted. He let off a few rounds at the edges of the cover. The noise reverberated deafeningly, but there were now thin beams of sunlight pouring into the cab.
‘Can you give me a leg-up?’ he asked her. She nodded and clasped her hands together. Bond stepped into them, lifted himself and pushed against the duct cover. He strained until Christmas cried, ‘I can’t hold you much longer!’
Then the cover gave way, loosened by the bullet holes. Bond pulled himself up and out, then helped Christmas out. They were standing in a cloud of dust some fifty feet from the main building. The heat of the sun had increased considerably.
Bond could make out people running about, panicked. Dead soldiers were on the ground. Then he heard the sound of jet engines.
‘Come on!’ he shouted, palling her toward the runway, but they were too late. Renard’s plane roared past them and lifted off. Bond followed it helplessly for a few steps, then gave up.
She caught up with him and said, ‘Hey, I’m sorry I blew the whistle on you. I had no clue what they were up to. I thought they were with the Russian Atomic Energy Department.’ ‘Do you have any idea where they’re going?’
‘No, but they won’t get far,’ Christmas said. ‘Every warhead has a GPS locator card. We can track the signal.’ Bond took the object he had taken from the dead man and showed it to her. ‘You mean one of these?’
Her jaw dropped. ‘Damn,’ she said.
10 - The Approaching Storm
Bill Tanner rushed into the Briefing Room at Castle Thane MI6 headquarters shortly after M had arrived for the morning’s work.
‘I have something,’ he said. ‘It may not mean anything, but we should look into it.’
M was standing with Robinson and other analysts examining printouts from Interpol. Apparently, the terrorist known as Renard had been sighted in at least six different countries on the same day, and they had to sort out which reports were reliable, if any. M looked up and said, ‘Well?’
‘We’ve been monitoring Russian military frequencies, of course. The Russian Army has reported that one of their transport planes was stolen from an airfield in Omsk two days ago.’
‘So?’
‘There’s more. The Russian Atomic Energy Department is searching for some missing Parahawks and a nuclear physicist who’s gone astray. A fellow named Arkov.’
‘What would any of that have to do with Renard?’ M asked, impatiently.
Tanner held up Sir Robert King’s report. ‘Russian Atomic Energy Department,’ he said. ‘Doctor Arkov was supposed to be on assignment decommissioning a testing facility in Kazakhstan. Intelligence reports that the site was destroyed this
morning and a Russian transport plane matching the description of the one that was stolen was seen leaving the area. The worst part is that they believe a bomb is missing.’
‘A bomb?’
‘Plutonium core warhead. The Russian Army has put out an all-points arrest warrant for Colonel Akakievich, the officer who was in charge of the testing facility. Apparently he’s gone missing, too, and they believe he may be involved. It’s a long shot, but it just sounds like something Renard could be a part of.’
M was perturbed that she hadn’t put two and two together herself. ‘Right.’ She turned to Robinson. ‘Is there any way we can track that plane?’
Robinson almost laughed and pointed to the map. ‘It could be anywhere in this circle. Iran, Iraq, Pakistan, Syria, Afghanistan
‘Marvellous,’ she said.
Moneypenny entered the room and got everyone’s attention by announcing, ‘Elektra King is calling for M from Baku.’
M was surprised. She went for the telephone, but Moneypenny said, ‘It’s a video line.’
‘Put her on the wide screen.’
Moneypenny made the connection, and Elektra’s face materialised on the large wall monitor. She looked haggard and red-eyed.
‘Hello,’ she said. ‘I'm sorry. I would never call you except . . . your man Bond has disappeared. He ... he left my villa, some time in the middle of the night.’
M looked sideways at Tanner.
‘He’s been gone all day and hasn’t returned. I thought you should know. There’s already been one attempt on my life. And . . . my head of security has been found near a local airstrip, murdered . .
M leaned on the console in front of her. ‘I’ll send someone else out right away.’
Elektra furrowed her brow. ‘Could . . . could you come?’ M didn’t expect that. The request so flustered her that at first she didn’t know what to say. Then she studied the face of the giil who was like a daughter to her. Elektra King looked about as lost as she ever had.
‘I just can’t help thinking . . . that I’m next,’ Elektra said. M stared at the girl on the screen, her whole sordid history written in her pleading eyes. M turned away from the screen and said to Tanner, ‘Get me out there.’
Tanner started to protest. ‘Ma’am, I don’t think -’
‘Just do it!’ She turned back to Elektra. ‘I’ll be there as soon as possible. Don’t leave your villa.’
Elektra nodded, holding back tears of relief. ‘Thank you.’ The connection was terminated.
‘Where the devil is Double-0 Seven?’ M demanded.
‘I’ll try to find him,’ Robinson said, jumping to his station. ‘M . . .’ Tanner began, but M cut him short.
‘I know what you’re going to say, Chief-of-Staff, and I don’t want to hear it,’ she said. ‘I'll take my bodyguard and Robinson. Miss Moneypenny, please make the necessary arrangements for immediate departure. I’d like to get to Baku before tomorrow. Tanner, you’ll be in charge while I’m gone. See if you can track down that transport plane. And if you find Double-0 Seven, you tell him that I’ll speak to him in person