grey hair and a chubbier face.
These last changes were simple: a grey rinse for the hair, and foam pads to go into his cheeks.
“Don’t try and drink anything while you’re wearing those in your mouth, James. They tend to suck up liquids so you spray everyone.
“I read that in an upmarket espionage novel somewhere.” He went into the bathroom, rinsed his hair with the special preparation, put the glasses on, and slid the pads into his cheeks. The change in his appearance was really quite remarkable, and he emerged into the sitting room to find Wade with a young schoolgirl he did not recognise.
“She’s meant to be around fifteen. Brit passport with the correct visa, and the school uniform really does exist” Wade gave her an almost lecherous look. “You have real passports for the onward journey.” He dumped a pair of old style British passports on the table.
“You all happy now’?”
“I like the - what do you call it? Gymslip?’ Natalya lowered her eyes, as though embarrassed.
“That’s correct.” Bond looked her up and down, the white knee socks did his libido a power of good.
“What I don’t like is the underwear. Thick, dark blue and feels like serge.
Bond smiled. “Standard uniform issue at British girls’ schools.”
“Only for the flight.” Wade put on an innocent look.
“There’ll be a bag of really nice clothes for both of you when you get to where you’re going. I took the liberty of working out your sizes. In the meantime you’ve got a flight bag each with one or two things that should help.” They separated at the airport where the security forces were all over the place. Bond presented himself at immigration as a crusty, no-nonsense, slightly eccentric ex-military type abroad. He found it worked wonders when he threatened to report an over zealous official.
On the air side his heart skipped a few beats when he saw two large female security officers take Natalya into a curtained off area.
Later, she told him it was the worst moment of her life. “I think there was something funny about them. Very aggressive, until I gave them some dollars. They stopped mauling me after that.” The flight took them to Paris where they had enough time to change back into near normal representations of themselves, and on the flight to Miami sat with each other.
There were no awkward questions on arrival, and they just made the connection to Puerto Rico where they were met by a young man who had CIA written all over him, and who took them through immigration and customs with a minimum amount of bother. The young man, who was stocky, built like a fireplug and answered to the name Mac, had their new luggage with him. He appeared to be very taken with Natalya.
He drove them to a luxurious beach house in an equally luxurious BMW which he said was for their use while they were on the island.
The following afternoon found them on the road, exploring the island, away from all the tourist haunts in San Juan.
“You don’t know what this means to me.” Natalya’s hair was ruffled by the warm breeze as they negotiated empty roads far off the normal guided tour routes. “You know, James, all my life I wanted to come to the Caribbean. I even had a picture of one of the islands - St. Thomas, think - at my work-station at Severnaya. Dreamed about it since I was a small girl, and I can’t believe I’m here.”
“I’m glad we had the opportunity of making your dreams come true.” Bond smiled at her. “I just hope we don’t end up in a nightmare.
She ignored the last remark, sighed, lying her head on his shoulder. “Here we are, on a beautiful island and not another human being in sight.” As she said it, so a loud beeping came from the radio panel.
“That could be our wake-up call.” Bond stabbed at one of the pre-set buttons on the radio and a panel dropped down to reveal a small radar screen with one green blip showing each time the sweep line circled the display. “It appears that we have company.” Bond’s brow wrinkled, and from far away, over the noise of the car, they both became aware of the sound of an approaching aircraft.
He saw it in the rear-view mirror, and Natalya turned to look back, giving a little squeak of surprise, ducking low down in her seat just as a neat little Piper Archer passed low over their heads, flaps fully extended, so that it could land on the road in front of them.
“You were saying?” Bond’s face showed nothing, but his hand slipped inside his blazer and he placed an automatic pistol on the console between them.
The Archer taxied on up the road and finally turned left, going through a gap in the trees and coming to a stop in an empty field.
“Do you work at attracting trouble with anything that moves?” Natalya looked puzzled.
“It’s my natural charm.” He still showed no emotion.
“That, combined with a weakness for causing mayhem and often a lot of violence.” He braked and turned into the field, drawing up close to the Archer which had the name Lord Geoff! stencilled on its nose.
As they came to a halt, Jack Wade clambered down from the passenger seat, carrying a small briefcase.
“Jimbo!” he greeted Bond.
“I told you never to call me that. And while we’re at it, what’re you doing here?”
“You wanted the job of finishing off Janus, and I bring tidings from your boss. She says you’re to go ahead.
Tomorrow, in fact. Oh, this is a present from what’s his name N? R? A?’ “That’s the one.” He handed over the briefcase, sniffing at the air. “Ah, Banyan trees.” He paused and then, “Incidentally, I’m not here, capish? The Agency has absolutely nothing to do with this.
No knowledge. Nothing to do with your insertion into Cuba. OK?” Bond nodded.
“I borrowed this little baby from a friend of mine in the Drugs Enforcement Agency. It’ll be waiting for you, all ready to go, at the private aircraft parking at San Juan Dominicci, first light tomorrow morning.”
“We’ll be there.” Dominicci is San Juan’s domestic airport at which shuttles depart and arrive all day from the outlying towns on the island.
“Just climb aboard and give your call sign, Smiley One.
Now…” He walked them to the door of the aircraft and took some papers from the seat. “We’ve covered you in every possible way.
Coast Guard, Federal Aviation Authority and Southern Military Command are all in the loop, and when I said first light, I meant it. You’ll be cleared at 06.00.” He handed over a large manila envelope. “This is the latest Satint from the Puzzle Palace. They say you should be OK as long as you stay at under six hundred feet.” Natalya’s hand shot forward, plucking the envelope from Bond’s hand. “Five hundred feet,’ she smiled like a nice, well brought-up Russian girl.
“Who is this?” Wade cocked his head on one side, looking quizzically at Natalya, as though he had never met her.
“I should’ve introduced you. You brought her clothes in Petersburg, remember?”
“Ah, yes, I remember it well. Natalya Simonova.
Natalya looked from under half closed lids as she ripped the envelope open and began studying its contents of maps and satellite photographs. I have been promoted. Now I’m a deputy sheriff of Mr. Bond’s posse.” She gave Wade an enormous smile. “You have a very weird taste in certain more intimate garments, Mr. Wade.”
“Oh, yes. I hope they were the right size.
“Perfect.” Bond looked at them with innocence written all over his face.
“This Russian girl here? You check her out?”
“From head to toe, Jacko.’ “Please don’t call me…” He stopped as he saw Natalya scrutinising the satellite maps. Leaning over her, he pointed.
“You’ll be looking for a satellite dish the size of a football field, I presume? Well, it just doesn’t exist
Nobody can light up a cigar in Cuba without the boys at the National Security Agency knowing about it. It just is not there.” Natalya gave him a cheeky smile. “Mr. Wade, I know it’s there. It’s an exact replica of the one at Severnaya.” Bond interrupted them. “What if we need backup, Jack?”
“There’s a transmitter in the plane. He indicated an area among the instruments in front of the pilot, who remained silent and did not even look in their direction.
“It’ll send a warning if the plane comes unstuck. Either way, if you’re in trouble, just squawk and I’ll send in
