M spoke up. 'You'll have prepared your fake documents, I presume?'
'Very well taken, Admiral! Yes, a full operation order for your act of flagrant aggression has been run up in our Albanian office. Its remains will be found on your corpse. Your government will denounce it as a forgery, naturally, but what else could they do if it were genuine? Rest assured that their complicity will be proved. The injury to Russian prestige is straightforward enough not to need such artificial aids.'
Bond said, 'How did your people find out about this conference in such detail?'
'Oh, one of the minor people concerned with it in Moscow became momentarily indiscreet, quite unintentionally, in the hearing of one of our operatives there. We made arrangements to interview this man and I was able to induce him to be indiscreet at great length, intentionally. And to convince him that we would know, and react most unfavourably, if he revealed his indiscretion to his superiors. But now, please let us have done with such affairs and move on to something more interesting. Are there any further questions?'
Silence, because no words were any good. And absence of movement, because no action was any good. Powerlessness. Hopelessness.
'I recommend that you say goodbye to your chief now, Mr Bond. You will probably not be able to when you see him again.'
Chapter 19
The Theory and Practice of Torture
THE CELLAR was small, not more than ten feet by twelve feet by six and a half feet high. The floor bulged and sloped, and an irregular column of living rock leaned across one corner. Whatever had been left here by previous occupants was here no longer; the place was bare, swept, and scrubbed. A stout wooden ladder led to a trap-door in the ceiling. Along one wall lay a schoolroom bench; by another a small collapsible table and a kitchen chair had been placed. An unshaded but rather murky bulb burned in a bracket on a third wall.
Resist as he might, Bond had been unable to prevent himself being bound securely into a heavy, old- fashioned dining-chair set in the corner opposite the tongue of rock. The material used to tie his wrists and ankles was strips of towelling; as he struggled with De Graaf, Evgeny, and Willi, Bond had half-heard parts of a careful explanation from Sun about ropes causing chafing and the undesirability of pain not deliberately inflicted. Chains running from ring-bolts cemented into walls and floor would keep the chair stable however much its occupant might throw himself about.
Left alone for the moment, Bond sat and waited for Sun. More than anything he longed for a cigarette. A jumble of images circled in his brain: the delicate moulding and coloration of Ariadne's face - M's firm handclasp of ten minutes earlier - the wordless plea Gordienko had made in his last seconds - the blood on Litsas's head - the game of golf with Bill Tanner, half a century ago - the terrible bewilderment on the face of the Russian as the rifle- bullet struck him - von Richter's amusement as he remembered his 'experiments' in Albania - the sprawled bodies of the Hammonds in the kitchen at Quarterdeck - Ariadne again. Then the figure of Sun, the loose powerful movements, the metal-coloured eyes, the sloping teeth, the dark lips. The man who was going to start him on an agonizing road to death. Bond found he was sweating with fear.
Footfalls sounded overhead. Bond forced himself to begin taking some deep breaths. The trap-door was pulled back and Evgeny came down the ladder. He was carrying a wooden tray which he put down on the small table. Without glancing at Bond he went back to the ladder and ascended. Bond studied the objects on the tray: two metal meat-skewers of different sizes and a wooden one, a bottle of colourless liquid, a funnel about the size of a coffee-cup, what looked like a bunch of bristles from a broom, a knife with a six-inch blade in the shape of a slim right-angled triangle, several boxes of matches. His breathing became heavy.
After a dreadful minute of utter silence, Sun arrived. He smiled and nodded at Bond, like somebody greeting a favourite acquaintance, and sat quietly down next to the table.
'Before you start, Sun,' said Bond in a level tone, 'I want to ask you a favour.'
'Ask away, my dear Bond. You know I'll do anything I can.'
'The girl. What's happening to her?'
'I believe De Graaf is with her now. Or perhaps Evgeny. Or even both of them. The other girls may be participating too. On a night like tonight I suppose a certain amount of licence is to be expected.'
Bond tried to ignore this. 'In the morning, let her go. Drop her off somewhere. Whatever she says afterwards she can't threaten the success of your project, and you and all your team will be safely out of the way.'
'I'm sorry,' said Sun, shaking his head and sighing. 'Believe me, I wish I could help you, but it's impossible. You must see that. What would those unimaginative bosses of mine have to say if I allowed any sort of witness to survive after an operation on this scale? The rule-book says that must never happen. So I'm afraid she'll have to die.'
'Then could you have it done quickly? Cleanly?' Bond hardly noticed the abject appeal in his voice. 'There's nothing against that, is there?'
'Of course not. I am no barbarian, Mr Bond, whatever you may think. I've always opposed needless suffering. I'll see to it that De Graaf, who's an expert in these matters, shoots her in the back of the head. She'll know nothing about it. I'll supervise the whole thing personally. You need have no fears on that score.'
'Thank you for that.' Bond believed him and was grateful. Then rage and loathing filled him. 'Now get on with your squalid sadistic charade. Have yourself your messy little kicks. Enjoy them while you can.'
'It seems, Mr Bond,' said Sun judicially, 'that your ideas on the nature of sadism are in an unformed state. You said- '
'Never mind the state of my ideas. Bring out your thumbscrews and your hot irons. They can't be much more painful than having to sit here listening to you.'
The colonel did his smile. 'Your defiance does you credit. But you've no conception of what you're defying. In a short while you'll be wishing with all your heart and soul that you'd encouraged me to delay your pain by just a few seconds, just one little remark about the weather.
'Now, James....' Sun got up and paced the tiny area of floor in front of Bond's chair. 'I hope you don't mind if I call you James. I feel I know you so well.'
'There's nothing I can do about it, is there?'
'No, there isn't, is there, James? Anyway, it's appropriate, don't you think? Sets the right tone of intimacy.'
