the wrong end to reveal a tiny set of miniature screwdriver heads. These were threaded at their blunt ends, the threads matching a small hole in the pen's cap.
No traveller should be without one,' Bond said. He smiled and selected one of the drivers, screwing it into place.
Carefully he began to remove the tiny screws around the right lock of his case. They turned easily, the lock coming off in one piece to reveal a small oblong cavity containing one spare set of keys for the Mulsanne Turbo, which he slipped into his pocket before replacing the lock and putting away the miniature tool kit.
The plans for Cindy's diversion and Bond's crawl from her window were quickly arranged.
'The diversion's no problem,' she said, lowering her eyelids.
'I've got exceptional quality tart's stuff on under the skirt.' She gave a little pout. 'I thought I might even turn you on.
She described her room, suggesting that she should enter in the dark, open the side window and pull those curtains before switching the light on. 'I'll be able to see exactly where the guards have placed themselves. You'll have to crawl to the side window on your belly.' 'How long can you . . . well, tantalise them?' If she performed the full act, Cindy said, putting on a throaty voice, she could keep them more or less happy for about half an hour. 'To be on the safe side, I guess you d better reckon on ten minutes, give or take five.
He gave her a look usually reserved for the more cheeky jumper and pearls set at the Regent's Park Headquarters, checked the ASP, and said the sooner they got on with it the better. Bond knew that, if Holy's men hadn't yet tampered with the car, it would certainly be given a going over before they let him out - if they let him out.
Nobody appeared to be stirring in the house. While tiptoeing across the landing, they saw men still lounging in the hall, but the rest was quiet, and the corridor leading to Cindy's room at the far end of the house was in darkness. Her smooth palm touched his, their fingers interlocking for a moment as she guided him towards her door.
She was young, supple, very attractive and obviously available to him at least. For a second he wondered, not for the first time, how genuine she was. But the chance to doubt had long since passed. There was nobody else to trust.
Cindy opened her door, whispering, 'Okay, down boy.' He dropped on to his stomach, beginning to wriggle his way across the floor. Cindy was humming to herself and interspersing the low, tuneful, bluesy sound with soft comments.
'Nobody at the side m closing the curtains okay, going to the front windows . . . Yes they're down there . . . Right, James, get cracking, I'm putting the lights on . . .' And on they flooded, with Bond halfway across the floor, moving fast towards the window, where the curtains billowed and sighed like a sail.
As he reached it, he saw her out of the corner of his eye, standing near the far front window, hands to her shirt, swaying slightly as she sang softly: He shakes my ashes, freezes my griddle, Churns my butter, stokes my pillow My man is such a handyman He threads my needle, gleans my wheat, Heats my heater, chops my meat, My man is such a handyman.
The last words were barely distinguishable to Bond, who was already out of the window, dropping silently on to the garage roof. He had a copy of 'Queen' Victoria Spivey's Handman, recorded in the 1920s, so he knew what that was all about.
Flat against the root, his body pressing down as if to merge with the lead surface, Bond lay silent, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. Then he froze, hearing first the sound of feet on gravel, then the voices. There were, as Cindy had said, two of them, speaking in heavily accented English. One made a hushing sound.
'What?'
'The roof. Didn't you hear it?'
'What?'
'Sounded like someone on the garage roof.
Bond willed his body into the flat surface, pressing down, his head turned away, pulses thudding in his ears.
'On the roof? No.'
'Move back. Take a look. You know what he said - no second chances.' The sound of feet on the gravel again.
'I can't see any 'You think we should go and . .
Bond's hand inched towards the ASP.
'There's nobody there. Might have been a cat - Hey, Hans, look at that.' The scuffle of feet could be heard moving back off the gravel.
Bond turned his head, and saw the clear silhouettes of The Balloon Game the two guards below, in front of the house. They were close to one another, looking up like a pair of astronomers studying a new planet, eyes fixed on the windows, out of sight to his right.
Carefully he started to move towards the centre of the roof where he knew the skylight lay. Then, suddenly, he dropped flat again as the guards also moved - his own breathing sounding so loud that it must draw them to him. But the two men were now backing away from the house, heads tilted, trying to get a better view of what was happening just inside Cindy's lighted open window.
Again Bond edged forward, going as fast as safety would allow, conscious of each minute slipping away.
Though probably less than a minute, it seemed to take an eternity to reach the skylight, which moved at his first touch. Very gently he slid it back, staring down into the darkness below.
They had made it easier for him by parking the white Mercedes directly underneath. One Swing and he was down, fret on the car's root, head less than a foot below the edge of the skylight.
Crouched there, Bond slipped the ASP from its holster. If they had put a man inside the garage, plans might just have to change. Once more he waited, stock still, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness.
No sound could be heard but the beating of his own heart. The long outline of the Mulsanne could just be made out parked to his right.
He dropped to the floor, padded around the rear of the Mercedes, one hand still grasping the ASP, the other now clutching the keys to the Bentley.
The lock thumped open, and there was that solid, satisfying sound as the catch gave way to his thumb and the heavy door swung back.
The Bentley's interior came alive with light, and he slid into the driving seat, leaving the door open as he checked the connections around the Super 1000 long range telephone, which Communications Control Systems had provided for the electronics wizards at RollsRoyce to wire in. Closing the door, he picked up the handset, letting out a breath of relief as the small pin of red light came on to show the telephone was active. His main fear had been that Holy's men had cut the connections. Now, all he could do was pray that nobody was monitoring the closed waveband.
Quickly he punched out the number, and, before the distant end had time to say 'Transworld Exports,' he rasped out, 'Predator! Confuse!' hitting the small blue scramble button as he said it, then counting to twenty, waiting for the distant to come up again.
the voice of the Duty Officer at the Regent's Park Headquarters said clearly.
'I say this once only. Predator, emergency . . . and Bond launched into a fast two-minute message which he hoped would be clearly intelligible if Jay Autem Holy really intended to send him out from Endor to steal the United States EPOC frequency within the next few days.
Putting the telephone back into its cradle between the seats, he retrieved the ASP which had rested above the polished wooden dashboard only inches from his hand, and returned it to his holster Now he had to get back to Cindy's room as fast as possible. The thought of the girl slowly stripping, singing to herself was highly erotic in his heightened state of mind, bringing the picture of Percy Proud to him quickly, as though she were very close. A trick of the subconscious he decided, closing the Bentley's door as quietly as its weight allowed and locking the car.
The interior lights remained on for a few seconds, then the garage was once more consigned to darkness. He turned, to head back to the Mercedes, when a sharp double metallic click brought him to a halt.
There was an old game - remembered from his training back in the Second World War - which they still played in the school. You sat in darkness while tapes of noises were run. The object was to identify each noise.
