through the wall.
‘It’s okay, May! It’s me!’ he yelled.
‘Mr James! Oh, my God, Mr James!’
‘Just hang on there,’ Bond shouted at her, realising he was raising his voice too high because of his temporary deafness. ‘Hang on while I get Moneypenny. Don’t come out into the passage until I tell you!’
‘Mr James, how did . . .’ She began, but he was away, up the passage to the next cell door, where he repeated the process with the Uzi. The passage appeared to be filling fast with smoke.
‘It’s okay, Moneypenny,’ he shouted breathlessly. ‘It’s okay. It’s the white knight come to take you off on the pommel of his saddle, or something like that.’
She looked grey with fear, and was shaking badly.
‘James! Oh, James. I thought . . . they told me . . .’
She rushed to him and threw her arms around his neck. Bond had to disentangle himself firmly from his Chief’s Personal Assistant. He almost dragged her into the passage and pointed her towards May’s cell.
‘I’ll need your help with May, Penny. We’ve still got to get out of here. There’s a fire blazing along the passage and unless I’m mistaken, quite a number of people who don’t really want to see us leave. So for God’s sake, don’t panic. Just get May out of here as quickly as you can, then do as I tell you.’
As soon as he saw her respond, he ran through the thickening smoke towards the elevator doors.
He got to the curved steel doors and jabbed at the button. Perhaps others were making their escape from the floors above by the same method. Maybe the mechanism had already been damaged. He could now hear the roaring of fire along the passage, behind the doors of the execution chamber.
Reaching out, Bond touched the curved metal doors and found them distinctly warm. He waited, jabbing again at the button, then checked the Uzi and the automatic pistol. The automatic was a big Stetchkin with a twenty round magazine, and he had only loosed off six shots. He tucked the almost empty Uzi under his left arm, holding the Stetchkin in readiness.
Moneypenny came slowly along the passage supporting May, just as the elevator doors opened to reveal four men in dark combat jackets. Bond took in the surprised looks and the slight movement as one of them began to reach towards a holster at his hip.
His thumb flicked the Stetchkin from single shot to automatic, and he turned his hand sideways – for the Stetchkin has a habit of pulling violently upwards on automatic fire. If turned sideways it would neatly stitch bullets from left to right. Bond fired a controlled six rounds and the four men were littering the floor of the elevator. He held up a hand to stop Moneypenny bringing May any closer. Quickly he hauled the bodies out of the cage, jamming one of them across the doors to keep them from closing while he performed the task.
In less than thirty seconds he was ushering May and Moneypenny towards the lift. It was rapidly becoming very hot, and as soon as they were inside he pressed the Down button, keeping his finger on it for five or six seconds. When the doors next opened, they were facing the curved passage leading to Tamil Rahani’s room.
‘Slowly,’ he warned May and Moneypeny, ‘take care.’
A burst of machine gun fire rattled in the distance. It crossed Bond’s mind that something odd was now going on. A fire was obviously blazing above them, yet they would be the only targets for any of SPECTRE’S people left on the island. Why then was there shooting going on that was not directed at them?
The door to Rahani’s room was open. There was a violent burst of fire from within. Slowly Bond edged into the doorway. Two men dressed in dark combat jackets, like those in the elevator, manned a heavy machine gun set up near the big picture windows. They were firing down into the gardens. Beyond them Bond could see helicopters, their lights blinking red and green, hovering over the island. A star shell burst high in the night sky, and three sharp cracks followed by splintering glass left him in no doubt that the house itself was coming under attack.
He hoped that the men out there were on the side of the angels as he stepped into the room and placed four bullets neatly into the necks of the two machine gunners.
‘Stay in the passage! Stay down!’ he shouted back to May and Moneypenny.
There was a moment’s silence. Then Bond heard the unmistakable sound of boots clanking up the metal steps leading to the terrace balcony. Holding the pistol low, he called to those he could now see outside the window. ‘Hold your fire! Escaping Hostages!’
A burly officer of the US Navy, brandishing a very large revolver, appeared at the window, followed by half a dozen armed naval ratings. Behind them he saw the white, frightened face of Sukie Tempesta, who cried out,
‘It’s them. It’s Mr Bond and the people they were holding to ransom!’
‘You Bond?’ snapped the naval officer.
‘Bond, yes. James Bond.’ He nodded.
‘Thank the Lord for that. Thought you were a gonner. Would have been but for this pretty little lady here. We’ve gotta move it, fast. This place will go up like a fired barn in no time.’
The leathery-faced man reached out, grasped Bond’s wrist and propelled him towards the balcony, while three of his men hurried forward to help May and Moneypenny.
‘Oh, James! James, it’s so good to see you.’ He had been thrown almost straight into the arms of the Principessa Sukie Tempesta and, for the second time in a matter of minutes, Bond found himself being kissed with an almost wild, skidding passion. This time he was in no hurry to break away.
Bond asked breathlessly what had happened as they were hustled through the gardens to the small pier. No sooner were they aboard than the coastguard cutter drew away, gathering speed. They looked back at the island. Other launches and cutters were circling, as were more helicopters, rattling their way around and keeping station with each other, some shining spotlights down into the beautifully laid out gardens.
‘It’s a long story, James,’ Sukie said.
‘Jesus!’ said one of the coastguard officers through clenched teeth as the great pyramid that had been SPECTRE’S headquarters spouted flame from the top of the structure, like an erupting volcano.
The helicopters had started to turn away, one making a low pass over the cutter. May and Moneypenny sat in the bows, being tended by a naval doctor. In the weird light from the Shark Island fire they both looked feverish and ill.
‘She’ll blow any minute,’ the coastguard officer muttered and almost as he said it the building appeared to rise out of the island and hover for a second, surrounded by a sheet of dancing flame. Then it exploded in a flash of such dazzling intensity that Bond had to turn his head away.
When he looked again, the air seemed to be filled with burning fragments. A pall of smoke hung across the little hump that had been Shark Island.
He wondered if that was really the end of his old, old enemy, SPECTRE, or whether it would ever rise again, like some ungodly phoenix from the ashes of the death and destruction which he, James Bond, had caused.
20
CHEERS AND APPLAUSE
Sukie told her story once the cutter was inside the reef, and the sound of waves, wind and engines grew less, so that she did not have to shout.
‘At first I couldn’t believe my eyes – then, when Nannie made the telephone call, I knew,’ she said.
‘Just take it a step at a time.’ Bond was still shouting as the ringing in his ears had not yet gone.
When Sukie and Nannie had left Bond the previous evening, Nannie had ordered coffee from room service.
‘It arrived while I was in the bathroom touching up my face, so I told her to pour it,’ Sukie told him.
She had left the door open, and in the mirror she saw Nannie put something in her cup from a bottle. ‘I couldn’t believe she was really up to no good, in fact I nearly taxed her about it. Thank goodness I didn’t. I remember thinking she was trying to do me a good turn and keep me out of danger. I’ve always trusted her – she’s been my closest friend since schooldays. I never suspected there was anything like . . . well . . . She was a very faithful friend you know, James. Right up until this.’
