Zero Minus Ten
By Raymond Benson
IAN FLEMING PUBLICATIONS
Copyright © Ian Fleming Publications, 1997
All rights reserved
JAMES BOND TITLES BY RAYMOND BENSON
NOVELS
Zero Minus Ten (1997)
The Facts of Death (1998)
High Time to Kill (1999)
DoubleShot (2000)
Never Dream of Dying (2001)
The Man With the Red Tattoo (2002)
FILM NOVELIZATIONS
(based on the respective screenplays)
Tomorrow Never Dies (1997)
The World is Not Enough (1999)
Die Another Day (2002)
SHORT STORIES
Blast From the Past (1997)
Midsummer Night's Doom (1999)
Live at Five (1999)
ANTHOLOGIES
The Union Trilogy (2008)
Choice of Weapons (2010)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Besides writing official James Bond fiction between 1996-2002, RAYMOND BENSON is also known for The James Bond Bedside Companion, which was published in 1984 and was nominated for an Edgar. His first two entries of a new series of thrillers, which Booklist called “prime escapism,” are The Black Stiletto and The Black Stiletto: Black & White. As “David Michaels” Raymond is the author of the NY Times best-sellers Tom Clancy’s Splinter Cell and Tom Clancy’s Splinter Cell - Operation Barracuda. He recently penned the best selling novelizations of Metal Gear Solid and its sequel Metal Gear Solid 2-Sons of Liberty, as well as Homefront: the Voice of Freedom, co-written with John Milius. Raymond’s original thrillers are Face Blind, Evil Hours, Sweetie’s Diamonds, Torment, Artifact of Evil, A Hard Day’s Death and the Shamus Award-nominated Dark Side of the Morgue. Visit him at his websites, www.raymondbenson.com and www.theblackstiletto.net.
This novel is dedicated to
Randi and Max,
and to the people of Hong Kong
AUTHOR’S NOTE
The architecture and layout of the Hongkong and Shanghai Bank is as described in Chapter Eleven. The events and action contained therein, however, are totally imaginary, as the corporation’s highly effective security system would realistically prevent such a scenario. Furthermore, the company EurAsia Enterprises Ltd. is entirely fictional and is not intended to represent any existing trading and shipping firm. Lastly, the actual location for the handover ceremony has not been decided upon at the time of writing. (In fact, China has not yet even agreed to a joint ceremony!) My choice of Statue Square as the site is based on its historical significance and geographical importance to the city, as well as speculation by Hong Kong associates.
ONE
SHAMELADY
20 JUNE 1997, 9:55 P.M., JAMAICA
Someone long ago had called it the “Undertaker’s Wind” but hardly anyone in Jamaica referred to it by that name anymore. The Undertaker’s Wind was supposed to blow the bad air out of the island at night. In the morning, the “Doctor’s Wind” would come and blow the sweet air in from the sea. The Undertaker’s Wind was certainly at work that night, whipping the long red strands of the Englishwoman’s hair around her head like the flames of a torch.
The woman was dressed in a skin-tight black diving suit and stood on the cliff above the grotto looking out to sea. Forty stone steps cut into the cliff led down to the grotto, in front of which was a small, sandy beach. It was very dark in the grotto, for the cliffs blocked the moonlight. Up above it was just bright enough for every tree, plant, and stone to emit an eerie glow.
The woman glanced at her watch and tapped the button to illuminate the time. He would not be late. He never was.
The grotto and its private beach faced the Caribbean, not far from Port Maria on the North Shore of the island. The small community of Oracabessa was just along the coast to the west, and Cuba was a hundred miles to the north. The area was considered Jamaica’s most lovely coastal country. The woman had never been here prior to this evening, but she knew the layout of the place inside out. It was her job to know. The land was private property and a modest, three-bedroomed house had been built above the grotto near the top of the stone steps. If her plans were successful, the house would later be the location for an evening of unbridled passion and pleasure. The man with whom she hoped to share the pleasure had a reputation which preceded him. Other women who had known him had indiscreetly prepared her for the man’s intense sexual allure. Although accomplishing the Primary Objective was her main goal tonight, one of her motives for participating in the evening’s escapade was a rather selfish Secondary Objective—the physical rewards she would give and receive after the job was done. She couldn’t help it. Danger stimulated her sexually. It was why she had sought a career as a mercenary, a contemporary Boadicea. It was why she liked to play with fire.
“I’m here,” a male voice whispered behind her.
“You’re on time,” she said.
“Of course I am,” the blond man said in a thick Cockney accent, moving closer to stand beside her, looking out to sea. He, too, was dressed in a black diving suit. “You know what to do?” He gazed at her, taking in the shapely body.
The woman knew she was beautiful and that men found her attractive. She enjoyed being able to manipulate them. As she looked at the man, she wondered again if the night would end as she desired.
He had blond curly hair, a muscular build, and classical Roman features. Most women, she thought, would gladly follow him anywhere.
“When he arrives, I get him to come up to the house. You’ll ‘surprise’ us and kill him.”
The man smiled. “Too right.”
They were both in their mid-twenties and had trained for weeks to get this far, but already possessed the skill and expertise required by any assassin to perform a simple execution. The job in hand tonight was anything but simple, their target a formidable one.
“Leave the first part to me, Mr. Michaels,” she said, smiling and rubbing her hand across the man’s chin. “Give us a little time, and I’ll have him thoroughly distracted.”
“Well, don’t get carried away. I don’t want to have to take you out with him.”
“You sound pretty sure of yourself. Remember who he is.”
“He’s history.”
As if on cue, a Royal Navy jet suddenly appeared, passing about half a mile from them, heading north out to sea at about 200 knots. They could just see the figure jumping from it.
“There he is,” the blond man said. “Right on time.” They clasped hands and he kissed her roughly on the mouth. “See you later, love … when we’re done.” And then he was off as she began to walk down the steps into the darkness of the grotto.