James Bond - Win Lose Or Die Part 11

'What time was that?'

'23.40, around twenty minutes before the war started.'

'And you've been with him all the time, since then?'

'Up there until we were asked ro get down here.'

'Is there anything we should do about getting details back to Washington? You have special procedures?'

'Yes. I'll deal with all that.'

"Okay.' Bond pretended to be lost in thought for a couple of seconds. 'Not slraight away, though, if you don't mind. I want you to wait outside with the marine guard. I need a little time with the Admiral. Then we'll get the whole of this done officially.

"Excuse me." This last to Gudeon as Bond went to the cabin door and spoke to the marine guard, telling him that Mr Israel would wait outside, and go nowhere else until the Admiral came out.

'Ed Morgan?' Bond phrased it as a question, back again behind his desk. Gudeon looked worried, and he did not seem to be ihe kind of man who got worried easily.

'What about him?'

LI need some answers, . I'm ent.i.tled to answers, particularly as I'm going to be handling all this security for Stewards' Meeting. I'm not altogether happy about dealing with personal bodyguards on an international scale. Now, Ed Morgan wasn't a Secret Service bodyguard in the true sense of the word, was he?'

'How in h.e.l.l do you know that?'

*It's my job to know it, sir.'

'n.o.body was supposed to have wind of it.'

'I've been in the business some time. You like to tell me about him?'

Gudeon sighed. LGuess so.' He now looked truly older and greyer. If it were not for the uniform he could have been just right for some guy sitting in a rocker on the stoop of a house in a Norman Rockwell ill.u.s.tration.

'Ed was my nominee. We'd worked together before, and I figured him as the best man for the job. He was a Commander, by the way. Navy Intelligence - which included some held work.'

'Okay. Do you know how he was handling communieations with Washington?'

'Yes. I do."'

'Was it directly through our communications staff on board?'

A lengthy pause. "No. I have a closed channel micro transmitter in my cabin. When Ed wanted to transmit he was to get onto me, and I'd give him the okay.'

'How does it work?'

"How docs any of this stuff work? All d.a.m.ned magic to me. There's a place for a small tape in the thing. 1 gather he simply inserted a tape with his message en clair, locked on to the FLATSCOM we used, and the message was squirted in cipher to another ship. They would pa.s.s it on to Washington. That's the basics anyhow.'

'FLATSCOM is generic for US Navy satellite communications, right, sir?'

Gudeon gave a tiny nod, like someone bad p.r.i.c.ked him on the hack of the neck.

'Did he use il when you came aboard?'

'No,' a little tight-lipped. 'Look. Captain Bond, I'm trying to co-operate, hut I have quite a problem on my hands. Morgan wanted to use our communications link around dawn. I said I'd be down unlock it and put the keys in. He didn't confide in me, but he was concerned about something, something on board. Wanted i( checked out by Washington before he would okay Dancer coming in for Stewards' Meeting. Now I'm in the cold. 1 have to make the decision. And I have to make it without knowing what Morgan wanted.'

'I really shouldn't worry too much about . , .' The telephone buzzed and Bond excused himself to take the call. It was Surgeon Commander Grant. 'The place is cleaned up. sir; and I took the liberty of having some photographs done - you know the kind of thing: body situ, face, wound, all that stuff. Seen il on the moving pictures. Can't be accurate about time of death, but I'd say it was within an hour of my seeing the body.'

'Mmm-huu. It wasn't long before .saw il. Just keep everything on ice. I'll see you later.' He cradled the telephone and turned back to Gudeon. 'Don'1 bother yourself too much, sir. I'd okay Dancer coming in on schedule.'

'Easy as that?'

'Just as easy. I think I know what he wanted checked out. I think it was why he got chopped.'

'If you know, then it's your duty to share it with me.'

'I said 1 think I know, sir, and that's a long way from knowing.'

'And you won't even . . .?'

'Sorry. Admiral Gudeon, but. no. I carry this ball on this one. I think I know, and I'll take steps to make certain and even secure matters before Dancer gets here. Anything strange, and I'll have Stewards" Meeting waved off. In the meantime, I'd suggest that you go back to the bridge and take Mr Israel with you. Also, I'd be grateful if you don't talk to anyone else about this. And I do mean anyone, sir.'

'If you say so. Bond.' Gudeon did not look happy, but 007 wanted to leave it there. There was a lot for him to do before he could do something definite about the operation they called Stewards' Meeting. First, he had to do his Sherlock Holmes imitation, and see everybody concerned, then it was essential for him to get his own people to check on the names Edgar Morgan had listed on the tape - even the Royal Navy people. He sat back, making quick decisions on whom he would speak to next. It was three o'clock in the morning. n.o.body was going to be happy, but he considered it best for him to stick with people he knew were awake. He called the bridge and asked see Admiral of the Fleet Sir Geoffrey Gould and his Flag Lieutenant, Mr Brinkley. They were with him in five minutes, and he broke the news, followed by the standard questions -had Brinkley been with the Admiral since dinner? Had they parted company at any time? The answers were yes, and no, respectively.

Gould was shaken. "You do not get murdered on one of HM's ships,' he said, echoing Gudeon.

'It seems that we are the exception that proves the rule.' Bond said briskly.

"Could we be of any help, James?' Ted Brinkley asked.

'Possibly, but not yet. I gather all the Russians are English speakers.'

'Yes.' Brinkley had got to thut information very quickly. 'First thing Moggy and I did. Try out their English. Bit funny, though.'

'How funny?'

The leader of their pack - Stura, Yevgeny Stura. Fellow with the scar and (he vodka nose.'

'What about him'-''

'He tried to play silly b.u.g.g.e.rs. Pretended he had no English.'

'But he has?'

'He's been up with Admiral Pauker on the bridge all night. Speaks English like a native. Slight American accent, but he speaks and understands. Just wouldn't let on to us when we were with them. The Attache with all the honeypot trappings, aimed at you, did the translating. Rum.'

'Not really. Bond c.o.c.ked an eyebrow. 'KGB games. They often try that kind of thing on. It's almost a standard drill.'

He asked them to get back on the bridge, talk to n.o.body and ask the Captain if he would request, most respectfully, if Admiral Pauker and Yevgeny, he with the vodka nose, would come down to see him.

They arrived a few minutes later, and Bond went through the same routine. Oddly, Yevgeny Stura wcni through the charade of being a non-English speaker with the connivance of Pauker until Bond reminded them forcibly that ihey were on British territory and he, for one. would see to it that the most important part of Landsea '89, namely Stewards' Meeting, would be called off if they were not honest with him.

Admiral Pauker became belligerent, shouting at Bond, telling him that he was the highest-ranking officer on board - "I am the entire head of the Soviet Navy. I will have you stripped of rank, ground to dust, for speaking like this!' he ended.

'Do as you will. Admiral, but as 1 am in charge of security for the whole of Stewards' Meeting, I can also make demands, and T'm not putting up with Mr Stura's games. He speaks English and understands it. I know it, he knows it. We all know it. So, no more games.'

The Russians disappeared, slightly cowed, and Bond sent the marine guard to get Mr Camm.

Moggy Camm bore out his partner's story, and answered all the questions quickly and with no hesitation. They had agreed that Ted Brinkley would4ake tonight's duty with Gould. Moggy was due to relieve him at dawn. He had seen and heard nothing out of the ordinary until the activity outside his cabin, then the marine and his sergeant wakening him.

There were other obligatory questions. What time had he turned in? About eleven. Did you see anyone or anything before then'.' He had taken a drink with the other two Russians, and Bruce Trimble. the black American. They had a special little messdeck, with alcohol on lap-one of the small CPO messdecks which had been set aside for iheir relaxation. They had all retired about the same time. You all come down together? Yes.

One at a time he went through the other bodyguards. Bruce Trimble backed Moggy and the two Russians. The Russians backed everybody else.

The other American Secret Service man, Stanley Hare, had turned in early. 'At the same time as Ed. We talked a while; Trimble came back and we all grabbed a few Zs.' No, he had not heard Ed leave the cabin. In spite of the noise from the Tannoy system, Stan had heard nothing until the marine banged on the door. 'In our job, you leam to sleep on a clothes line.'

Everyone was exceptionally helpful, so he sent for the marine sergeant.

Sergeant Harvey was your typical Royal Marines sergeant with no lime for messing around with excuses.

Bond put it to him straight, and he answered just as clearly.

'1 understand there was a problem over who was doing the guard duty down here. Sam't Harvey.'

'Considerable problem, yes, sir,'

'How considerable?'

'When the balloon went up, as expected, at 23.59, all marines went to their action stations, sir. I, as duty sergeant, should have spotted the problem at once. I didn't, sir.'

'Go on."

'Around 00.20 hours, I realised we had n.o.body down here. We're stretched as it is - 42 Commando not having to do anything unless there's a real flap on - so I sent two marines down with instructions to do one hour, then report to me. I had meant to sort out a couple more, but I didn't, sir. My fault, I take any blame. The two on duty down here were authorised to go back to their normal posts. When 1 remembered, I gave the orders on the bulkhead telephone. My fault, sir. Easy as that. I've questioned all concerned. Between them they reckon the posts were left without guard for ten minutes. Me, being what I am, would add another five for luck.'

'There's no blame, sarn't. One of those things, but what you're saying is that people would be free to come and go between the prohibited areas for at least fifteen minutes. From around what? 01.5 and 01.30 hours?'

'About that, sir.'

'Right. Thank you."

There were still three people he needed to talk with. Clover, the luscious Nikki. and one other mentioned in the disturbing list of naval personnel the late Ed Morgan had wanted checking out. He could leave getting reports back on the Russians, but his own kind would have to be looked into now.

He was dog-tired, and there was little likelihood of getting any sleep for at least another twenty-four hours, so he stretched, jammed his cap on and went up to the highly secure holy of holies, the Communications Room, set on the first deck, directly below Flight Operations and the bridge. An aggressive marine challenged him and he showed the pa.s.s which had been issued to him, together with other materials on joining Invincible. Apart from Sir John Walmsley, the communications staff would probably be the only ones who realised their special Security Officer was really a disguised 'funny'. The Duty Communications Officer certainly did. you could tell by his eyes, and the quick flick of his head when Bond showed him his authority for using the Intelligence Computer which had a direct satellite link with GCHQ, Cheltenham.

They exchanged code words, and a few heads were raised as the Communications Officer took him across the busy room (o the little sealed-off area, opening the door and following him in to boot up the big Cray Computer. Once done, the DCO tactfully left him alone.

The beast's screen shimmered green, and Bond typed in the first set of digits that would wake up the lads in Cheltenham.

STATE AUTHORITY the computer asked him in large black letters.

Bond typed in MERRY-GO-ROUND.

GIVE BACK-UP flashed on to the computer.

26980.8 Bond typed.

TYPE OF INFORMATION REQUIRED? queried the silent machine, DATA ON ROYAL NAVY PERSONNEL SERVING.

NOW filRDSNEST TWO he told it.

WHAT OPS? it asked.

LANDSEA '89 AND POSSIBLY STEWARDS' MEETING.

SPECIFICS: STATE FULL DOSSIERS OR RELEVANT.

SECURITY CLEARANCE.

BOTH INPUT NAMES - SURNAME FOLLOWED BY.

GIVEN NAME AND RANK. IF KNOWN.

Bond methodically typed in the list recalled from Ed Morgan's last words on earth, In a matter of seconds, the machine began to throw dossiers at him on the screen. One at a time they came, and he could scroll up and down them, reading the official lives of all those Morgan had requested. He went through six dossiers and selected the *OK' on each when he had finished.

The seventh was LEADING WREN DEELEY, SARAH.

The response came up, fast and flashing - NO LEADING WREN DEELEY. SARAH ATTACHED TO BIRDSNEST TWO PLEASE WAIT.

He waited. Then - NO LEADING WREN DEELEY, SARAH SHOWS ON RECORD. PLEASE REPORT YOUR SUPERIOR OFFICER IMMEDIATELY.

The name had rung a bell. Yes, he recalled the pyjamad figure as he hurried towards the heads with Clover. Clover had sharply told her to get back into her cabin.

So, he would now see Clover and Nikki. Then, last of all, the non-existent Leading Wren Sarah Deeiey. There was no way he could report anything to his superior officer.

Bond went back to his cabin and sent a message out that he required to see First Officer Pennington WRNS. Immediately.

12.

Will you Join the Dance

He had sent for coffee, and now sat sipping the strong, black brew. Across the desk. Clover Pennington, looking nervous, picked up her cup - white; no sugar.

'Clover, the situation is quite simple. The guards were off for about ten minutes. I know that. Then one of them, with you in tow, came banging at my door just after twenty-five past one. So, in those ten minutes two things happened. First Ed Morgan left the cabin he was sharing with two other American bodyguards and went to the Wrens' heads. We don't know why. Maybe he had a date. Maybe he wanted to be somewhere he was unlikely to be disturbed, the Wrens' heads was the most likely place he could be alone.' The second choice, Bond knew, was the most probable truth.

'While he was there, someone came in behind him and slit his throat. Quickly, quietly, and very efficiently. It could have been one of his buddies, or one of the Russians, even Moggy Camm. one of Admiral Sir Geoffrey Gould's Flag Lieueys. On the other hand, it could have been the Russian lady . . .'