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“Christ, you speak English!” Bond exclaimed. “Why didn’t you say so?”

The girl laughed, then abruptly turned and ran towards her companions.

Bond watched her go. The girl turned and waved at him, and soon she had disappeared beyond the horizon. She had made him feel foolish, but she was one of the most sensual creatures he had ever encountered.

Bond continued his walkabout. The sun’s heat became worse as the day moved into afternoon. He applied more sunblock and used some more of the water-saturated roots. Around 3:00 p.m. he came upon a dirt road. It seemed to head in the same direction as his destination, so he followed it. At 4:00 he saw signs of civilization. An old tyre had been discarded on the road. There were telephone poles in the distance.

Finally, he saw it. At the edge of the horizon was a red bump. From this distance, it was a mere pimple where the earth met the sky. As he walked closer, the bump grew in size until it was a mountain. Uluru … Ayers Rock, the big red heart of Australia. It was a sacred shrine to the Aborigines, and the main reason why tourists ventured to the desolation of central Australia. The 348-metre-high monolith was indeed a breathtaking sight. Its fiery glow and haunting colours were at their peak, illuminated by the setting sun.

It was 6:00 p.m. Bond had spent nearly twenty-four hours in the Australian outback, and had made it to civilization. He nearly wept with awe, joy, and relief.

TWENTY-ONE

COUNTDOWN

JAMES BOND STUMBLED INTO THE ULURU NATIONAL PARK RANGER STATION and nearly collapsed on the floor. An Aborigine dressed in a park ranger uniform stood up in surprise.

“You all right, mate?” he asked.

“Water … phone …” Bond whispered.

An hour later, Bond had showered, eaten a meal, and spent fifteen minutes with his eyes closed. He was dead tired and probably had a mild case of heat exhaustion. He would have liked to have crawled into a hole for a week, but there was just a little more than twentyfour hours left. It was precious little time, and he had to find the quickest way back to Hong Kong. The rangers had provided him with a clean uniform, as his clothes were soiled and torn. When he went through his pockets, Bond found the business card that Skip Stewart had given him in the pub in Kalgoorlie. Perhaps the man’s tourguide service would come in handy after all. Bond placed a phone call to Stewart and luckily found him in. Stewart agreed to fly to the Ayers Rock airport and pick up Bond for a small fee. He would arrive in about three hours.

Now it was time to call London. He dreaded M’s wrath, but it had to be done. He went through the usual security measures, was connected to Bill Tanner, and finally to M herself.

“007? Where the hell are you?”

“Australia, ma’am. I’ve found the source of the nuclear explosion, and it’s directly related to our man Thackeray and EurAsia Enterprises,” he said quickly.

There was silence at the other end. He’d expected her to say something about orders to remain in Hong Kong.

“Tell me more,” was what she finally said.

Bond gave a brief version of everything that had happened in the last forty-eight hours, and how he had got to be where he was.

“You’re lucky to be alive,” she said. “I’ll put out an all-alert to our fleet in Hong Kong. Any idea where Thackeray is going to put this bomb?”

“No idea. Could be anywhere. We haven’t much time.”

“Precisely. How fast can you get back to Hong Kong?”

“I expect a ride back to Perth in a little while. I’m afraid the only transportation I can get back to Hong Kong is a commercial airline. Leaves tomorrow morning and doesn’t get in until the evening.”

“That’s cutting it much too fine,” she said. “All right, do what you can. When you get back to Hong Kong, contact Captain Plante aboard the Peacock. She’s one of our Peacock Class patrol craft, and she’ll be in Victoria Harbour. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am, but I request permission to contact Li Xu Nan again. He may be able to help with this.”

“007, this department does not sanction your dealing with Triad members or any other criminal organization. We’ll deal with your insubordination and leaving Hong Kong against my orders when you’re back in London. Mind you, if you hadn’t discovered what you did, I’d have had your hide!”

She rang off. Without a second thought, Bond dialled Li Xu Nan’s private number in Kowloon.

Skip Stewart arrived at 9:30 p.m. He flew a Piper Navajo PA-310, an American-manufactured plane that had an all-weather and night capacity performance.

“Howzitgoin,’ mate?” he asked when he jumped out of the cockpit to greet Bond. “When did you become a park ranger? Never mind. How do you like her? I bought her from the Royal Flying Doctors a couple of years ago when their Alice Springs headquarters upgraded.”

“Just get me to Perth before morning, Skip,” Bond said. “I have a Qantas flight to Hong Kong that leaves at 8:30.”

“No worries, mate. My little Airy-Jane will get you there. We’ll have to stop in Kalgoorlie for a refill, ya know …” he said. “Wish I could help you out and take you all the way to Hong Kong, but my little bird, there’s only so far she can go. Say, did I tell you about my auntie who struck gold in Coolgardie when she was twelve years old … ?”

By 10:00 p.m., James Bond was in the air over the outback once again. The only problem this time was that he had to listen to three hours’ worth of bush stories.

ZERO MINUS ONE: 30 JUNE 1997, 9:30 P.M., HONG KONG

The news had hit the morning papers of 29 June. The South China Morning Post front-page headline declared CHINESE GENERAL IN DRUG-SMUGGLING SCHEME. The Hong Kong Standard carried the photographs Li’s men had taken, accompanied by the headline: MURDERED CHINESE GENERAL IN DRUG PLOT. The story detailed how Wong had been involved with “Triad societies” in a worldwide drug-smuggling plot that also involved EurAsia Enterprises. The general was also implicated in the several terrorist acts that had occurred in the territory over the past few weeks, including the car-bomb murder of Guy Thackeray. Wong’s own assassination was being attributed to a disgruntled EurAsia employee. According to the article, the assassin had been caught and killed at the border. Even the official Chinese news agency, Xinhua, issued a statement denouncing General Wong’s involvement with a criminal organization. Although Beijing stopped short of an apology for accusing Britain of Wong’s murder, the official word was that the general deserved what he had got.

The news literally saved Hong Kong from an early Chinese takeover. The troops had been prepared to march south across the border on the morning of 29 June. The Royal Navy fleet of three Peacock Class patrol craft had been joined by the destroyer and two frigates that had arrived on 28 June, and had combined forces with the Hong Kong naval fleet. Royal Marines had moved on to the peninsula and were now stationed in the New Territories, anticipating the crisis that ultimately never happened. The Hong Kong government breathed a sigh of relief at the news, for it meant that perhaps the handover, scheduled for midnight on the 30th, would be a peaceful one after all. Despite the averting of the immediate crisis, tensions were still very high and mistrust of China was rampant.

Festivities began early on the morning of the 30th. The Chinese New Year was of only secondary importance compared to the coming event. Shops closed and the population took to the streets. There were celebrations on every corner. Hong Kong Park was full of both pro-democracy and pro-China groups. The Royal Hong Kong Police had to provide a heavy presence to ensure that peace was maintained. Statue Square was blocked off from traffic in preparation for the night’s event, and visiting officials from around the world had flown in for the occasion. Every hotel was totally booked.