'Well, no mystery about who we're dealing with after that - General Arenski's men. Von Richter and his friends wouldn't dare to come out in the open like this hereabouts.' Bond knew what to do now. He spoke at top speed. 'We have a little time. They'll hesitate before they fire into us - their orders must be to get us alive if possible. We hang on here as long as we can. Then we have only one chance. We lash the tiller, go quietly over the side and swim for it. At the moment we must be about a mile and a half out. Could you manage that, Niko?'
'Yes. Eventually.'
'We'll wait for you. Get your rifle ready.'
'It's ready.'
The amplified voice spoke again. 'Halt at once or the next shot will hit you!'
'I'll stall them,' said Bond. He hung on as long as he dared, then called, 'Very well. I am ready to surrender to you. But on condition that you release the girl who is with me. She has no part in this affair.'
A pause. Bond counted the precious seconds. Then, 'No condition. You will surrender immediately.'
'I demand that you release the girl.'
A much shorter pause, ended by, 'You have ten seconds to switch off your engine. If you do not, we will fire into you!'
'Count to five, Niko. Ariadne, helm hard over when he hits.'
Bond held his breath and half-opened one eye. The light bored into his skull. At the first slam of the rifle beside him he opened up with the Thompson, in no hope of hitting anything, only of throwing the gunners off. Litsas fired again and the light vanished utterly. The _Cynthia__ lurched wildly as the tiller came across. After an interval that seemed no longer than that between two heartbeats there came the boom of the gun and at once a dreadful tearing thud only feet away and water drenched Bond's head and shoulders. He realized he was still holding his breath and let it out with a gasp.
Laughing with triumph, Litsas was tearing off the navigation lights and flinging them one after the other over the side. 'They'll be as blind as bats for some minutes now. The trouble is they can still hear us, if anyone thinks of cutting the motor. Let's use this time. Back and across our previous course. That's it.'
Twice more the gun sounded, but the bursts were fifty and sixty yards away.
'Just angry. Here, James. I know you don't think much of it, but it feels just the same as cognac when you're in the water.'
Bond took a good swig from the proffered brandy-bottle and passed it to Ariadne. The spreading fire of the drink was physically comforting, but when he spoke his tone was bitter.
'So we're disarmed. As regards doing anything at all on shore. We might as well throw our guns into the sea now. Our only useful weapon is my knife.'
'Now quit that, James.' Ariadne had laid her hand on his shoulder. 'Our job for the moment is just getting to shore. That's quite enough to handle, isn't it?'
'It is,' said Litsas grimly. 'And I hope they can't fix that searchlight soon. We'll be for it if they can.' He gazed into the darkness. 'Ah. Making for land on the wrong course. Wait, though... I think they must be slowing. Yes. They've cut their engine. Time we were off. Not together. Best swimmer first.
'Vital point,' said Bond abruptly. 'Bring your shoes. You'd be helpless without them.' He took off his espadrilles and tucked them into his waist-belt. 'Right. I'm away.'
'Then Ariadne, then me. I'll describe to her the bay. You get off, James. See you on shore.'
'Yes, Niko. Good luck.' Bond shook Litsas's hand and kissed Ariadne. He drew the Walther from his hip and dropped it over the side. Then he lowered himself into the water.
There was a mile to go, or a little less. Bond set off at the fastest speed he thought prudent; he must overtake Ariadne somewhere inshore so as to guide her to the beach. The sea was flat calm and there was no current against him. The _Cynthia__ receded and he saw her no more. He had made perhaps two hundred yards when he became aware of the motor-boat crossing his front at speed. At least once he caught the flash of its gun. Soon its wash reached him and when he emerged there was nothing to be seen before him. Only the island. He breast-stroked steadily towards the notch in the skyline he had fixed on as his mark, looking to neither right nor left, deliberately postponing thought, driving his limbs with all his strength to distract him from the sick sense of defeat.
After twenty minutes he was approaching the edge of the shadow of Vrakonisi cast by the moon, and thought he saw a swimmer almost dead ahead cross into it. Here anybody in the water would be practically invisible, even if the motorboat passed within yards. He paused and looked westward, but could see nothing. On again, into the shadow, the beach coming into view only a little to the left, a change of course, the last hundred yards. But no sign of Ariadne. She must have found the beach unassisted and be lying down to rest. A few yards of shallows; Bond swam as near the water's edge as he could to avoid sea-urchins. He pulled himself upright; he was ashore. Ariadne was nowhere to be seen. He whirled round.
He had only begun a desperate visual search of the black waters when something that was brighter than the searchlight flashed in his brain and he felt himself start to fall.
Chapter 18
The Dragon's Claws
'EXCELLENT. EXCELLENT. Mr Bond is with us at last.'
Bond's consciousness had returned as quickly and fully as if he had been awakened from a natural sleep. He was half-lying back in a comfortable low chair in a medium-sized, high-ceilinged, well-lighted room. A number of people were looking at him with varying degrees of interest. Two girls, both strikingly attractive, were sitting together on a day-bed. They were strangers to Bond. But all five of the men present he had seen before. The man standing with his back to what was evidently a terrace was the black-haired gunman he had encountered at Quarterdeck. The doctor who had been there was putting a hypodermic away in a black leather case. By the door stood the stocky Russian servant-type from the previous night. Bond could not immediately place the rough-looking local with the bandaged left arm. The tall Chinese, however, leaning down towards him now with an air of kindly solicitude, was unforgettable.
Bond spoke sharply. 'Where's the girl who was with me?'
'A very natural question.' The Chinese smiled his approval. 'You needn't worry about her. She has not been harmed, nor will she be for the moment. Now let me introduce you. Miss Madan and Miss Tartini, two of my female
