Chi-Chi stopped as both Rushia and Bond stood back to make way for her. ‘I’d like to be treated like anyone else.’ Her manner was very much that of the liberated woman, though Bond was glad to note, without those abrasive bad manners so often used to force women’s rights down the throats of men who exhibited a particular kind of chauvinism. ‘I am one of a team,’ she continued, much to M’s irritation as he waited outside the door. ‘I don’t wish you to think of me as a woman.’
‘That’s a very tall order, Chi-Chi.’ Bond tilted an eyebrow.
‘Huh!’ she grunted and marched through the door, though Bond thought he detected a tiny flash of pleasure from both her lips and eyes.
‘Guess you’ll have to watch yourself, James,’ Rushia muttered. ‘You’ve got a little ball of fire there.’
‘Happily, I agree with you.’ Bond gave him a smile of profound satisfaction. ‘And she’d better learn that we’re two of a team.’
They followed M through one of the companion ways and down metal steps into a corridor which led to the ship’s hospital – a series of spacious cabins with ample room for any medical emergency. At last he plunged through one of the doors and Bond found to his astonishment that a number of very old friends were seated around a large conference table.
‘Surprise, James, my dear.’ The first greeting in the form of a hug and kiss was from the doughty, tall, elegant, leggy Ann Reilly, assistant to the Armourer, Head of Q Branch, and nicknamed Q’ute by every red-blooded man in the Service.
‘Well.’ Bond disengaged himself from Q’ute who, he saw with some pleasure, still affected a somewhat severe style to her sleek, straw-coloured hair. ‘Old home week, eh?’ as he went from person to person shaking hands, reflecting that it was good to know he had a familiar and well-tested backup.
Bill Tanner, M’s Chief of Staff was present, together with Bill Orr, the Witchdoctor, and a short, quiet man with piercing eyes who was known to the cognoscenti as the Scrivener. His real name was Brian Cogger and his specialty was what they called ‘paper’, namely forged documents. It was said that the Scrivener could create a new personality for you in a matter of hours, and his work would fool even the most diligent scrutiny.
There were also four American specialists present, and they were introduced in turn. But the most overpowering figure sat at the head of the table – Franks, as he was called.
Nobody knew his real name, but he answered to Franks or, more often, the Grand Inquisitor. Even James Bond was a little in awe of Franks, who could eventually break down anyone under interrogation – his methods ranging from the cosy fireside friendly chat to the more sinister deep examinations which he could only carry out together with one of the service doctors, usually the Witchdoctor.
As soon as they were seated, it was Franks who took command, not even deferring to M.
‘This is all straightforward,’ he began, and everyone turned in his direction. ‘Known facts – five officers and other ranks concerned with the highly classified joint Anglo-American project Lords and Lords Day, have been abducted. Late today I was also informed that Professor Robert Allardyce, the original brains behind the project, has been found shot dead in British Columbia.
‘Fu-Chu Lee, commonly known as Brokenclaw Lee, a local gangster of supposed American Indian and Chinese descent, is known to have arranged the abductions, and appears to have added to his many nefarious operations that of espionage for CELD, the Intelligence Service of the People’s Republic of China. With the help of United States’ agencies and a penetration agent ferreting close to Mr Lee, we were alerted to the fact that two couriers were about to enter the United States with a view to contacting Mr Lee, evaluating the product he has on offer and taking it back to the People’s Republic. My brief was to interrogate the two persons identified by our own Service’s China watchers. We have had them here for a matter of forty-eight hours, and it is my understanding that you, Captain Bond, together with you, Miss Chi-Ho, are to take their places.
‘It has not been an easy interrogation, and Doctor Orr here will bear me out in this. I tried straightforward methods and found that the two subjects were well prepared. The Chinese have evolved very clever anti- interrogation techniques as you all know. The truth is buried deep in the unconscious of both these people, but I believe we have finally managed to drag it out – with the use of the latest derivatives of the sodium pentathol family. Even then it was like peeling the skin from an onion. Like surgeons we went through five major cover stories before we hit the real thing. Agreed, Bill?’
The Witchdoctor nodded, frowning slightly.
‘Captain Bond and Miss Chi-Ho, I would like you to take a good look at the subjects before you embark on the operation. They will sleep now for at least twenty-four hours. I need not remind anyone that we are flagrantly breaking United States’ law here by holding them and refusing them access to their respective consulates or ambassadors.’ He looked up, sweeping his eyes around the assembled company. ‘I just felt everyone should be aware of what we’re doing in case we have to account for our actions at a later date.’
Franks glanced at his notes again. ‘The two subjects are, first a Caucasian male about your age, Captain Bond, carrying what appears from the information we have managed to get from the UK, his own British passport. He
‘The woman is, like yourself, Miss Chi-Ho, in her late twenties. Her name is given as Jenny Mo and she is travelling under United States papers, which, though good, we believe to be forgeries. Their immediate superior is a General Hung Chow H’ang. We know of him, do we not, sir?’ glancing towards M.
‘Indeed we do.’ M dropped his voice. ‘Hung Chow H’ang is general officer in charge of illegals and works out of the former French Embassy, on Tai ji chang Street, east of Tien-an-Men Square. It’s in the old Legation Quarter. There is, and I am speaking from memory, an ornate high red gate with a pair of stone lions. The buildings are pleasant enough and until quite recently it was believed they were used to house special guests of the Party. In 1986 we discovered, through one of our few Chinese defectors, that the former French Embassy is, in fact, one of the main training and organisational houses of CELD. Hung Chow H’ang is an old Party man, skilful, cunning and very good at his job. Lost an eye in the battles around Peking in ’48, or ’49.’
‘Yes, he is.’ Franks stopped, looked down and then up again, straight at Bond and Chi-Chi. ‘I understand that you are both aware that the man Lee set the conditions for meeting the couriers.’
‘A kind of treasure hunt, yes,’ Bond answered for them both.
‘Indeed, a kind of treasure hunt to establish the couriers’ bona fides. There is a telephone number here in San Francisco that you have to call on arrival in New York, and a set form of identification . . .’
‘Followed by a merry dance, I should imagine.’ As he spoke, Bond realised he was being too flippant.
‘A very merry dance, Captain Bond.’ Franks was tightlipped, his eyes narrow and his look one of bleakness. ‘I have no doubt that the quest for Brokenclaw Lee will be an arduous one and you will both be tested to the full. We can supply you with all you need to begin the jig. The end, however, might prove more than you bargained for. You see General Hung Chow H’ang’s orders are specific. When the Lords and Lords Day information is in your hands, you are required to hand over five million dollars to Brokenclaw. Now, we can arrange that. It’s no problem, but our China Desk has had a hint that something else may be going down with Brokenclaw and it’s possible only one of you will be allowed to leave. This in turn means that one of you is going to be in greater danger, because there are also hints that a third person is making the trip from China. Any scruples about that, Captain Bond, Miss Chi-Ho?’
Neither of them could afford scruples. They were both already committed, so Franks dismissed Chi-Chi and spent a further hour talking to Bond. ‘There are things only one of you should know at this stage,’ he began, and as he talked, Bond became more concerned about the outcome of the operation which appeared to be loaded with traps and unspeakable dangers.
8
ABELARD AND HELOISE
It took almost exactly twenty-four hours from the moment Franks stopped speaking for the process to be completed. Bond, Rushia and Chi-Chi were first shown into the operating room, where the two sleeping couriers
