history. Certainly it will bring about some chaos. There will undoubtedly be resistance from reactionaries. But the change will come, and with it Peace.' He made it plain, by his tone that the word was given a capital P.
'So?'
'So, the EPOC frequency is a prerequisite to SPECTRE'S plan for the Peaceful solution. If all goes well, there will be little or no bloodshed. If anyone is hurt or killed, it will be the fault of those trying to make a stand against the inevitable.' Holy clasped his hands together gently and placed them on the table in a gesture of open and frank paternal counselling.
'What I am instructed to tell you is that, should you fail us, or try any tricks to foil what cannot be foiled, the operation will still go ahead, but the Peaceful solution will have to be abandoned. Without the EPOC frequency there is one way only - the way of horror, terror and the ultimate holocaust.
'I . . . ' Bond began, but was stopped short by Holy's glare.
'They wish me to make it clear to you that, should you be tempted to cut and run, not provide the frequency, or - worse - try to alter it, then the blood and deaths of millions will be on your head, and yours alone. They aren't bluffing, James. We have worked for them, and they terrify me.'
'Do they terrify General Zwingli as well?'
'He is a tough old bird,' Holy said, more relaxed. 'A tough but disillusioned old bird. But, yes, they also frighten him.' He spread his hands on the table, near the telephone, palms downwards. 'Joe Zwingli lost all faith in his country roughly at the time that I too came to the conclusion that the United States had become a degenerate, self-serving nation, led by corrupt men. I deduced that America - like Britain could never be altered from the inside. It had to be done from without. Together we dreamed up the idea of disappearing, working for a truly democratic society, and world peace, from the obscurity of. .
. what shall I call it? . . . the obscurity of the grave?'
'How about the obscurity of a whited sepulchre?' Too late, Bond checked his impulse to be less than friendly with the devious doctor.
Epoc The green eyes hardened, diamonds reflecting light.
'Not worthy, James. Not if you're with us.'
'I was thinking it was what the world might say.'
'The world will be a very different place within the next forty-eight hours. Few will be concerned with what I did. Many will look with hope to what I have done.' Bond swerved back to the matter in hand. 'So I go tonight - if you've decided my idea's the best.'
'You go tonight, and you set things in motion before you go. The Duty Security Officer's name is Denton Anthony Denton.'
'Good.'
'You know him?' Bond knew Tony Denton well.
They had attended courses together in the past, and, a few years ago, had been on a bring-'em-back-alive trip to secure a defector who had walked into the Embassy in Helsinki. Yes, he knew good old Tony Denton, though it would make no difference at all if his instructions had been taken to heart at the Regent's Park Headquarters.
'He goes on duty at six in the evening, I understand,' Holy prompted.
Bond said that certainly used to be the old routine.
Holy suggested he should make the telephone call at about six-thirty. 'In the meantime, I think you'd better take some rest. If you do the job properly, as you must, for the sake of your own peace of mind, not to mention the millions who are unknowingly staking their lives on you, we can all look to a brighter future - to those broad, sunlit uplands of which a great statesman once spoke.'
'I go in my own car.' He was not asking but telling Holy.
'If you insist. I shall have to have the telephone disconnected, but you'll not object to that.'
'Just leave me an engine and a complete set of wheels.' Epoc Holy allowed himself the ghost of a smile. Then the face hardened again.
'James Bond knew suddenly that he was going to say something unpleasant.
'James, I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt. I understand the nubile Miss Chalmer was in your room last night. Come to that, you were in hers until the early hours. I must ask you, did Cindy Chalmer give you anything? Or try to pass something to you?'
'I trust not then he realised this was not the time for facetious remarks. 'No.
Nothing. Should she have?' Holy stared at the table. 'She says not.
Idiot girl.
Sometime yesterday she removed what she imagined to be a rather important computer program from the laboratory. She's shown signs of wilfulness before now, so I set a small trap for her. The program she stole was rubbish, quite worthless. She says that you knew nothing of her action, and I'm inclined to believe her. But the fact remains that she hid the disk among your clothes where, James, if has been found.
Cindy made quite a speech about it. She seems to think that we're - as she puts it - up to no good. So, she took the disk as some kind of evidence and hid it in your room until she could think of a way to use it against me.' He became hesitant.
'We've kept it in the family, James - by which I mean that we've not let it go beyond Dazzle and myself. My partners, Rahani and Zwingli, could become alarmed, might even pass it on to the representatives of SPECTRE. I don't think we'd want that, not a domestic thing. None of their business.' So, thought Bond, as serious a matter as stealing even a dummy back-up program of the Balloon Game on which, he presumed, the whole operation for SPECTRE was based could be overlooked and kept 'in the family'.
It was an interesting turn of events. What it did show was that Jay Autem Holy lived in terror of SPECTRE, and that was a piece of deduction which may well be put to valuable use later.
'Cindy?' Bond mused. 'What. ?'
'Will happen to her? She is regarded as one of my family. She will be disciplined, like a child, and kept under lock and key. Dazzle is seeing to it.'
'I haven't set eyes on your wife recently.
'No, she prefers to remain in the background, but she has certain tasks to perform, tasks necessary to success.
What I really wish to ask of you, James, is that we keep this business about Miss Chalmer to ourselves. Keep it as a personal matter. I mean, we don't mention it to anybody. Personal, between us, eh?'
'It's personal enough already.' Bond clamped his mouth shut. What else was there to say?
Tigerbalm came for him shortly after six o'clock. They had not locked him in, though food was served on a tray, brought up by a young Arab. Tigerbalm was very polite.
They went to the same room as before, with its bolted-down table and chairs. The only difference this time was that a tape recorder, with a separate set of earphones, had been hooked up to the telephone.
'It's time, then.' Holy was not alone. Tamil Rahani stood beside him, while the large, craggy face of General Zwingli peered out from behind them.
'I can't promise this part will work.' Bond's voice was flat and calm. So calm that it appeared to activate something deep within General Zwingli, who pushed his way through his partners, sticking out a leathery hand.
'We haven't met, Commander Bond.' The voice had a slightly Texan tang to it. 'My name's Joe Zwingli, and I just want to wish you luck, son. Get in there and make it happen for us. It's in a great cause - to put your country and mine back on their feet; give them some new order in the midst of their present chaos.' Bond did not want to disillusion the man. But a scheme of SPECTRE'S that was not for their good alone, he reckoned, would never see the light of day.
He played it to the hilt. 'I'll do what I can, sir.' Then he sat down and waited for Holy to set the tape monitor, put on the headphones and indicate they were ready.
He picked up the handset and punched out the digits to access the small complex where the S.I.S. Duty Security Officer to the Foreign Office spent his twelve hour watches, together with specialist teleprinter, cipher, radio and computer operators. Two shifts a day, twelve hours apiece.
The number which Bond had in fact punched was a screened telephone number known only to the field officers of his Service. It was also manned day and night, and paraded many identities, depending upon what
