Bond Movies 06 - The World Is Not Enough (19 page)

As they dragged Nikolai away, his captain’s hat fell to the floor. Renard picked it up and put it on his head. A perfect fit.

‘We'll be underway in two hours. Use that time to ponder how rich you’ll be,’ he told his men.

One of them handed Renard the heavy lead case.

‘The plutonium, sir,’ he said, straining with the effort.

Renard took the box as if it was nothing. He had become stronger than ever. He handed it to Truhkin, who did his best not to show how heavy it was.

‘You’ll find the extruder in the chamber outside the reactor,' Renard said. ‘Better get to work.’

Truhkin grunted and moved through the hatch.

After they had scoured the ship, Renard disembarked and found Elektra waiting on the quay. He ordered his men to go up into the tower and get their things and be back in ten minutes.

‘The reactor is secured,’ he told Elektra. ‘Everything is ready. As planned. Is your helicopter ready?’

‘It’s coming to pick me up in a half hour,’ she replied.

He glanced around the chamber and saw that they were alone. He stepped closer to her and looked into her eyes. It was the moment he had dreaded for weeks. He reached out and lovingly caressed her hair.

‘This is the end,’ he said softly.

‘No. It is the beginning. The world will never be the same.’

‘I wish I could see it with you.’

She hesitated, but then said, ‘So . . . so do I.’

He could feel her reluctance to show him any affection. As much as he wanted to take her into his anus and kiss her, he resisted the urge. If she wanted to play it cool, then so be it.

Renard removed the captain’s hat. Despite the frozen half of his expressionless face, it was impossible to hide his sorrow. He attempted to touch her cheek but stopped himself - catching his hand in mid-air - and decided, instead, to wave her off.

‘The future is yours. Have fun with it.’

Renard handed her the hat, turned away and walked back to the sub.

Elektra watched him go with mixed emotions. She wanted to lash out at him, but at the same time she wanted to cradle the man in her arms. As he went through the hatch, he stopped and gave her one more longing look. She could have sworn there were tears in his eyes. She felt a lump in the middle of her chest, and for a few terrible seconds, she struggled against running to him.

Renard mouthed the word, ‘Goodbye,’ then disappeared into the sub. Elektra almost involuntarily cried out; she felt as if a part of her spirit was clawing its way out of her body. Damn it aU! she thought. She was above this! Now was not the time for weakness! She had no use for ‘feelings’ now!

Elektra coldly cast away whatever warmth she still had in her soul. From that moment on, her heart became a block of ice. It was a confusing and unpleasant sensation, and it made her angry to experience these emotions. She had to divert the rage before it consumed her, and she knew just where she could redirect it.

Following Elektra’s instructions, Gabor took Bond and Christmas to her bedroom and forced Bond to sit in an ornately carved, wooden straight-back chair. His hands were bound in cuffs attached to the sides of the seat. He struggled with them, but the cuffs kept him constrained Christmas was standing nearby with her hands tied in front of her, a guard watching her every move.

‘What happens now?’ Bond asked. ‘The old Gloating- Followed-by-Torture-Followed-by-More Gloating routine?’ Right on cue, Elektra entered the room, threw down the captain’s hat, crossed the floor and kissed Bond on the cheek as she eyed Christmas.

‘James Bond!’ she said, ever so sweetly. ‘If only you’d kept away, we might have met again in a few years and become lovers once more.’

Christmas furrowed her brow at this. Elektra tinned to her and said, ‘That’s right, dear. I said lovers. Don’t tell me that you thought you were going to get James all to yourself? Haven’t you heard? James Bond is the world’s biggest pig. He’s a sexy pig, I’ll grant you that, but he’s still a pig.’ She nodded to Gabor. ‘Take her to Renard and leave us alone. I’m sure he’ll find a way to amuse her for the last hour of her life. Say bon voyage, my dear.’

There was fear in Christmas’s eyes as the men took her away. After the door slammed shut, Bond could see their shadows move past the colourful stained-glass window and heard their footsteps echo in the stairwell.

Elektra moved to a large curved window that overlooked the whole of Istanbul.

‘Pretty thing,’ she said. ‘You had her too?’

Bond ignored the question.

‘You should never have rejected me, James. I could have given you the world,’ she said, spitefully.

‘The world is not enough,’ he said, wearily.

‘Foolish sentiment.’

‘Family motto,’ he explained.

She frowned and slinked toward him. Slowly, she leaned over him and ran her fingers through his hair. Her scent was strong and musky.

‘Isn’t this a lovely monument? It took some doing for my farther to rent it. The Turkish government didn’t want to let him have it. When he convinced them that their oil was more important than their history, they gave in.’

She moved in closer and nibbled his ear.

‘Mmm, you are delicious, James. It's really too bad we’ve taken opposite sides in all this.’

‘It’s not too late to change your mind,' he suggested.

‘Don’t kid yourself, James. You’re doomed and you know

it.’

She ran her fingernails down his right check, tracing the outline of the faint scar.

They were digging near here and they found some very pretty vases. They also found this chair . . .’ She casually reached behind his neck and unwound a leather strap from the back of the chair. It was attached to the chair with a wooden screw. ‘I think we ignore the old ways at our peril, don’t you?’

She fastened the garrotte tight around Bond’s neck, looked at him lovingly, and then turned the screw a notch. The effect on Bond was instantaneous as the bolt jolted into the back of his neck, tilting his head back. The idea was not only to strangle him, but to pierce his spinal cord as well.

He stared back at her. ‘Where’s M?’

‘Soon she’ll be everywhere.’

Bond kept his cool and said, ‘All this, because you fell for Renard?’

‘Seven more turns and your neck will break.’ She moved to the back of the chair and twisted the screw one notch. Now the pain was more noticeable.

‘I didn’t fall for Renard. He fell for me. Since I was a child, I’ve always had a power over men. When I realised my father wouldn’t rescue me from the kidnappers, I knew I had to form a new alliance.’

He realised what she really meant. ‘You turned Renard.’

‘Just like you,’ she said, smiling. ‘Only you were even easier.’

She removed the jewel from her ear and revealed the ugly scar that divided her ear lobe.

‘I told him he had to hurt me, he had to make it look real. When he refused, I told him I would do it myself. So I did.5

She reached behind him and turned the screw another notch.

Sweat was beginning to bead on Bond’s forehead. His eyes narrowed and he spat, ‘So it’s true. You killed your father.’

‘He killed me! First, he killed my mother with his neglect! He took her family’s oilfields, and then he abandoned her. She died a lonely, unhappy woman. Then he killed me the day he refused to pay my ransom!’ It was an outburst of emotion that she had thus far been able to conceal. Bond was getting to her.

He understood now. Renard had kidnapped her. hoping to get five million dollars ransom out of it. When Sir Robert didn’t pay up, she felt betrayed and decided to strike back. She had used her seductive charms on Renard and convinced him to enter an evil pact with her to destroy her father and take over the company.

‘I was already in the process of planning how to get rid of my father when I got kidnapped,’ she admitted. ‘At first, I was frightened - being bound, gagged and blindfolded and taken against my will — but it ended up being a stroke of luck for me. I was able to, as you say, turn poor Renard. I quickly saw the potential in securing his devotion. I could let him do all the dirty work. He was a vicious killer, yet I was able to find Iris weakness and exploit it. Like anyone, all Renard needed was a little affection. A man will do just about anything for love, wouldn’t you agree?’

Was this all about the oil?’

‘It is my oil! Mine and my mother’s! It runs in my veins, thicker than blood,' Her eyes were shining. She moved toward the view, gazing at the spectacular cradle of civilisation. All the while, Bond worked at the wristbands feverishly. ‘It was already yours, Elektra. Why are you doing all this?’

‘I'm going to redraw the map. And when I am through, the whole world will know my name, my mother’s name, the glory of my people.’

‘No one will believe this meltdown was an accident.’

She turned back toward him, impressed that he had worked out the plan. She lashed her hand out and tightened the screw another notch. Now he was having trouble breathing. The point was digging into the back of his neck bone.

‘They will believe,’ she said with amazing confidence. They will all believe.’

Another notch. Agony! Sweat was pouring off his face now as he struggled to keep focused

‘You understand? Nobody can resist me.’ She put the jewel back on her ear, then straddled his lap. ‘Not even you. Know what happens when a man is strangled?’ she purred.

‘Elektra,' Bond strained to speak. ‘It’s not too late. Eight million people needn’t die.’

She smiled and twisted the screw again. There was a nasty, grinding sound as Bond winced. He closed his eyes, then forced himself to remain as cool as possible. He felt her tongue gently lick the sweat away from his brow.

‘You should have killed me when you had the chance,’ she whispered. ‘But you couldn’t. Not me. A woman you’ve loved’

She pushed her pelvis into his. She could feel him beneath her as she rocked back and forth, breathing heavily.

Two more . . . turns . . . and it’s over, James,’ she said.

She twisted the screw, this time causing him extreme agony. His face was angled upwards but he managed to spit, ‘You meant . . . nothing . . . to me . .

She fingered the bolt and prepared to turn the last time. His hands strained at the bindings . . .

‘One . . . last . . . screw . . .?’ he choked.

She kissed his ear as she reached a climax. ‘Oh, James . . .’ she moaned, almost sadly, as she began to turn the screw.

Bond was on the edge of consciousness . . . but the sound of gunfire outside brought him back to reality.

Elektra froze. She caught her breath and listened. Then she stood up abruptly and moved to the window.

Outside, Valentin Zukovsky was getting off a boat and moving over rocks toward the entrance with three of his men. He was big, battered and bloody. All four of them were firing automatic weapons, killing anything in sight. Two of Elektra’s guards lay dead in his trail. The man was obviously determined to get inside and nothing was going to stop him.

The sound of gunfire was now inside the building and moving up the stairs. Elektra reached into a desk and retrieved a Browning 9 mm just as the stained-glass window shattered. Gabor, his body full of holes, fell through to the floor and caused a puddle of blood to spread over the stone. Two of her men stepped backwards into the room, firing at their opponents on the stairs. Zukovsky’s firepower was too much, though, and the two men were flung backwards in a hail of bullets.

Then Zukovsky crashed through the broken glass, wounded in the shoulder, his face set. He had a gun in one hand and his cane in the other. He saw Bond in the chair and looked at Elektra, who was holding the gun behind her back.

There was more gunfire outside the room. Zukovsky turned to see The Bull, who entered the room holding an AK-47.

‘Boss!’ The Bull said. ‘I’m glad to see you alive! These people tricked me into -

Zukovsky shot him without batting an eyelid. The Bull grunted and let off a round of fire, but his aim was way off the mark. He fell to the floor with a solid thud.

Zukovsky turned back to Elektra. ‘I’m looking for a submarine. It’s big and black, and the driver is a friend of mine.’

Then his eye fell on the captain’s hat on the floor. Knowing at once what this meant, he ordered, ‘Bring it to me.’ He pointed the gun at her.

Elektra nodded and picked up the hat, surreptitiously sliding the Browning beneath it.

She proffered the hat and said, ‘What a shame. You just missed him.’

Elektra let off three rounds through the hat. They slammed into Zukovsky’s chest, throwing him back to the wall. He stared with incomprehension, then slumped to the floor.

Elektra walked to him and pushed his gun away from him with her toe.

Seconds away from death, Zukovsky dredged up every last ounce of energy to raise his cane a millimetre off the ground. He rested the handle against his chest and pointed the tip directly at Bond. Elektra watched curiously as Zukovsky grasped the centre of the stick and stared at the man in the torture chair.

Bond gazed back. Zukovsky’s eye narrowed, then he pulled back on the stick as if it were a pump action shotgun. A single shot splintered the wood on the back of Bond’s chair. What Elektra didn’t notice was that the bullet had cleanly cut through the clasp on Bond’s binding. A brilliant shot!

A silent acknowledgement passed between the two men. Comrades in arms. The merest of smiles. Then the light faded from Zukovsky’s eyes and his head rolled forward.

Elektra stared at the Russian with confusion. She didn’t see where the bullet had gone, only that it had missed Bond.

She sighed, turned back to Bond and said, ‘Excuse me a moment.’ She picked up a walkie-talkie and spoke into it. ‘Everything’s under control up here. Are you ready?’

‘Yes,’ came Renard’s voice. ‘I was afraid that you -’‘I'm all right. You had better get on with it.’

‘Very well. Au revoir . . .’

‘Goodbye,’ she said Lost for a moment, she breathed heavily. She dropped the walkie-talkie, glanced at Zukovsky’s corpse, then back at Bond.

‘Zukovsky really hated you, didn’t he?’ she said, slightly puzzled. She then moved back to the chair and straddled his lap again. ‘Time to say your prayers.’