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Now what? wondered Bond. Damn these office gossips. He said gruffly, Well, sir, we did get on well. And there was some idea we might get married. But then she met some chap in the American Embassy. On the Military Attachés staff. Marine Corps major. And I gather shes going to marry him. Theyve both gone back to the States, as a matter of fact. Probably better that way. Mixed marriages arent often a success. I gather hes a nice enough fellow. Probably suit her better than living in London. She couldnt really settle down here. Fine girl, but shes a bit neurotic. We had too many rows. Probably my fault. Anyway its over now.
M gave one of the brief smiles that lit up his eyes more than his mouth. Im sorry if it went wrong, James, he said. There was no sympathy in Ms voice. He disapproved of Bonds womanizing, as he called it to himself, while recognizing that his prejudice was the relic of a Victorian upbringing. But, as Bonds chief, the last thing he wanted was for Bond to be permanently tied to one womans skirts. Perhaps its for the best. Doesnt do to get mixed up with neurotic women in this business. They hang on your gun-arm, if you know what I mean. Forgive me for asking about it. Had to know the answer before I told you whats come up. Its a pretty odd business. Be difficult to get you involved if you were on the edge of marrying or anything of that sort.
Bond shook his head, waiting for the story.
All right then, said M. There was a note of relief in his voice. He leant back in his chair and gave several quick pulls on his pipe to get it going. This is whats happened. Yesterday there was a long signal in from Istanbul. Seems on Tuesday the Head of Station T got an anonymous typewritten message which told him to take a round ticket on the 8 p. m. ferry steamer from the Galata Bridge to the mouth of the Bosphorus and back. Nothing else. Head of Ts an adventurous sort of chap, and of course he took the steamer. He stood up forard by the rail and waited. After about a quarter of an hour a girl came and stood beside him, a Russian girl, very good-looking, he says, and after theyd talked a bit about the view and so on, she suddenly switched and in the same sort of conversational voice she told him an extraordinary story.
M paused to put another match to his pipe. Bond interjected, Who is Head of T, sir? Ive never worked in Turkey.
Man called Kerim, Darko Kerim. Turkish father and English mother. Remarkable fellow. Been Head of T since before the war. One of the best men weve got anywhere. Does a wonderful job. Loves it. Very intelligent and he knows all that part of the world like the back of his hand. M dismissed Kerim with a sideways jerk of his pipe. Anyway, the girls story was that she was a Corporal in the M. G. B. Had been in the show since she left school and had just got transferred to the Istanbul centre as a cipher officer. Shed engineered the transfer because she wanted to get out of Russia and come over.
Thats good, said Bond. Might be useful to have one of their cipher girls. But why does she want to come over?
M looked across the table at Bond. Because shes in love. He paused and added mildly, She says shes in love with you.
In love with me?
Yes, with you. Thats what she says. Her names Tatiana Romanova. Ever heard of her?
Good God, no! I mean, no, sir. M smiled at the mixture of expressions on Bonds face. But what the hell does she mean? Has she ever met me? How does she know I exist?
Well, said M. The whole thing sounds absolutely ridiculous. But its so crazy that it just might be true. This girl is twenty-four. Ever since she joined the M. G. B. shes been working in their Central Index, the same as
our Records. And shes been working in the English section of it. Shes been there six years. One of the files she had to deal with was yours.
Id like to see that one, commented Bond.
Her story is that she first took a fancy to the photographs theyve got of you. Admired your looks and so on. Ms mouth turned downwards at the corners as if he had just sucked at a lemon. She read up all your cases. Decided that you were the hell of a fellow.
Bond looked down his nose. Ms face was non-committal.
She said you particularly appealed to her because you reminded her of the hero of a book by some Russian fellow called Lermontov. Apparently it was her favourite book. This hero chap liked gambling and spent his whole time getting in and out of scraps. Anyway, you reminded her of him. She says she came to think of nothing else, and one day the idea came to her that if only she could transfer to one of their foreign centres she could get in touch with you and you would come and rescue her.
Ive never heard such a crazy story, sir. Surely Head of T didnt swallow it.
Now wait a moment, Ms voice was testy. Just dont be in too much of a hurry simply because somethings turned up youve never come across before. Suppose you happened to be a film star instead of being in this particular trade. Youd get daft letters from girls all over the world stuffed with Heaven knows what sort of rot about not being able to live without you and so on. Heres a silly girl doing a secretarys job in Moscow. Probably the whole department is staffed by women, like our Records. Not a man in the room to look at, and here she is, faced with your, er, dashing features on a file thats constantly coming up for review. And she gets what I believe they call a crush on these pictures just as secretaries all over the world get crushes on these dreadful faces in the magazines, M waved his pipe sideways to indicate his ignorance of these grisly female habits. The Lord knows I dont know much about these things, but you must admit that they happen.
Bond smiled at the appeal for help. Well, as a matter of fact, sir, Im beginning to see there is some sense in it. Theres no reason why a Russian girl shouldnt be just as silly as an English one. But she must have got guts to do what she did. Does Head of T say if she realized the consequences if she was found out?
He said she was frightened out of her wits, said M. Spent the whole time on the boat looking round to see if anybody was watching her. But it seems they were the usual peasants and commuters that take these boats, and as it was a late boat there werent many passengers anyway. But wait a minute. You havent heard half the story. M took a long pull at his pipe and blew a cloud of smoke up towards the slowly turning fan above his head. Bond watched the smoke get caught up in the blades and whirled into nothingness. She told Kerim that this passion for you gradually developed into a phobia. She got to hate the sight of Russian men. In time this turned into a dislike of the regime and particularly of the work she was doing for them and, so to speak, against you. So she applied for a transfer abroad, and since her languages were very good–English and French–in due course she was offered Istanbul if she would join the Cipher Department, which meant a cut in pay. To cut a long story short, after six months training, she got to Istanbul about three weeks ago. Then she sniffed about and soon got hold of the name of our man, Kerim. Hes been there so long that everybody in Turkey knows what he does by now. He doesnt mind, and it takes peoples eyes off the special men we send in from time to time. Theres no harm in having a front man in some of these places. Quite a lot of customers would come to us if they knew where to go and who to talk to.
Bond commented: The public agent often does better than the man who has to spend a lot of time and energy keeping under cover.
So she sent Kerim the note. Now she wants to know if he can help her. M paused and sucked thoughtfully at his pipe. Of course Kerims first reactions were exactly the same as yours, and he fished around looking for a trap. But he simply couldnt see what the Russians could gain from sending this girl over to us. All this time the steamer was getting further and further up the Bosphorus and soon it would be turning to come back to Istanbul. And the girl got more and more desperate as Kerim went on trying to break down her story. Then, Ms eyes glittered softly across at Bond, came the clincher.
That glitter in Ms eyes, thought Bond. How well he knew those moments when Ms cold eyes betrayed their excitement and their greed.
She had a last card to play. And she knew it was the ace of trumps. If she could come over to us, she would bring her cipher machine with her
. Its a brand new Spektor machine. The thing wed give our eyes to have.
God, said Bond softly, his mind boggling at the immensity of the prize. The Spektor! The machine that would allow them to decipher the Top Secret traffic of all. To have that, even if its loss was immediately discovered and the settings changed, or the machine taken out of service in Russian embassies, and spy centres all over the world, would be a priceless victory. Bond didnt know much about cryptography, and, for securitys sake, in case he was ever captured, wished to know as little as possible about its secrets, but at least he knew that, in the Russian secret service, loss of the Spektor would be counted a major disaster.
Bond was sold. At once he accepted all Ms faith in the girls story, however crazy it might be. For a Russian to bring them this gift, and take the appalling risk of bringing it, could only mean an act of desperation–of desperate infatuation if you liked. Whether the girls story was true or not, the stakes were too high to turn down the gamble.
You see, 007? said M softly. It was not difficult to read Bonds mind from the excitement in his eyes. You see what I mean?
Bond hedged. But did she say how she could do it?
Not exactly. But Kerim says she was absolutely definite. Some business about night duty. Apparently shes on duty alone certain nights of the week and sleeps on a camp bed in the office. She seemed to have no doubts about it, although she realized that she would be shot out of hand if anyone even dreamed of her plan. She was even worried about Kerim reporting all this back to me. Made him promise he would encode the signal himself and send it on a one-time-only pad and keep no copy. Naturally he did as she asked. Directly she mentioned the Spektor, Kerim knew he might be on to the most important coup thats come our way since the war.
What happened then, sir?
The steamer was coming up to a place called Ortakoy. She said she was going to get off there. Kerim promised to get a signal off that night. She refused to make any arrangements for staying in touch. Just said that she would keep her end of the bargain if we would keep ours. She said good night and mixed in the crowd going down the gang-plank and that was the last Kerim saw of her.
M suddenly leant forward in his chair and looked hard at Bond. But of course he couldnt guarantee that we would make the bargain with her.
Bond said nothing. He thought he could guess what was coming.
This girl will only do these things on one condition. Ms eyes narrowed until they were fierce, significant slits. That you go out to Istanbul and bring her and the machine back to England.
Bond shrugged his shoulders. That presented no difficulties. But . . . He looked candidly back at M. Should be a piece of cake, sir. As far as I can see theres only one snag. Shes only seen photographs of me and read a lot of exciting stories. Suppose that when she sees me in the flesh, I dont come up to her expectations.
Thats where the work comes in, said M grimly. Thats why I asked those questions about Miss Case. Its up to you to see that you do come up to her expectations.
Chapter Thirteen
B. E. A. Takes You There . . .
The four small, square-ended propellers turned slowly, one by one, and became four whizzing pools. The low hum of the turbo-jets rose to a shrill smooth whine. The quality of the noise, and the complete absence of vibration, were different from the stuttering roar and straining horsepower of all other aircraft Bond had flown in. As the Viscount wheeled easily out to the shimmering east-west runway of London Airport, Bond felt as if he was sitting in an expensive mechanical toy.