‘There is much in what you say, Comrade,’ said General G. ‘But we are here to find a target who will fulfil our requirements. Have they no one who is a hero to the organization? Someone who is admired and whose ignominious destruction would cause dismay? Myths are built on heroic deeds and heroic people. Have they no such men?’
There was silence round the table while everyone searched his memory. So many names to remember, so many dossiers, so many operations going on every day all over the world. Who was there in the British Secret Service? Who was that man who …?
It was Colonel Nikitin of the M.G.B. who broke the embarrassed silence.
He said hesitantly, ‘There is a man called Bond.’
6 | DEATH WARRANT
‘Y*b**nna mat!’ The gross obscenity was a favourite with General G. His hand slapped down on the desk. ‘Comrade, there certainly is “a man called Bond” as you put it.’ His voice was sarcastic. ‘James Bond. [He pronounced it ‘Shems’.] And nobody, myself included, could think of this spy’s name! We are indeed forgetful. No wonder the Intelligence apparat is under criticism.’
General Vozdvishensky felt he should defend himself and his department. ‘There are countless enemies of the Soviet Union, Comrade General,’ he protested. ‘If I want their names, I send to the Central Index for them. Certainly I know the name of this Bond. He has been a great trouble to us at different times. But today my mind is full of other names – names of people who are causing us trouble today, this week. I am interested in football, but I cannot remember the name of every foreigner who has scored a goal against the Dynamos.’
‘You are pleased to joke, Comrade,’ said General G. to underline this out-of-place comment. ‘This is a serious matter. I for one admit my fault in not remembering the name of this notorious agent. Comrade Colonel Nikitin will no doubt refresh our memories further, but I recall that this Bond has at least twice frustrated the operations of SMERSH. That is,’ he added, ‘before I assumed control of the department. There was this affair in France, at that Casino town. The man Le Chiffre. An excellent leader of the Party in France. He foolishly got into some money troubles. But he would have got out of them if this Bond had not interfered. I recall that the Department had to act quickly and liquidate the Frenchman. The executioner should have dealt with the Englishman at the same time, but he did not. Then there was this Negro of ours in Harlem. A great man – one of the greatest foreign agents we have ever employed, and with a vast network behind him. There was some business about a treasure in the Caribbean. I forget the details. This Englishman was sent out by the Secret Service and smashed the whole organization and killed our man. It was a great reverse. Once again my predecessor should have proceeded ruthlessly against this English spy.’
Colonel Nikitin broke in. ‘We had a similar experience in the case of the German, Drax, and the rocket. You will recall the matter, Comrade General. A most important konspiratsia. The General Staff were deeply involved. It was a matter of High Policy which could have borne decisive fruit. But again it was this Bond who frustrated the operation. The German was killed. There were grave consequences for the State. There followed a period of serious embarrassment which was only solved with difficulty.’
General Slavin of GRU felt that he should say something. The rocket had been an Army operation and its failure had been laid at the door of GRU. Nikitin knew this perfectly well. As usual M.G.B. was trying to make trouble for GRU – raking up old history in this manner. ‘We asked for this man to be dealt with by your department, Comrade Colonel,’ he said icily. ‘I cannot recall that any action followed our request. If it had, we should not now be having to bother with him.’
Colonel Nikitin’s temples throbbed with rage. He controlled himself. ‘With due respect, Comrade General,’ he said in a loud, sarcastic voice, ‘the request of GRU was not confirmed by Higher Authority. Further embarrassment with England was not desired. Perhaps that detail has slipped your memory. In any case, if such a request had reached M.G.B., it would have been referred to SMERSH for action.’
‘My department received no such request,’ said General G. sharply. ‘Or the execution of this man would have rapidly followed. However, this is no time for historical researches. The rocket affair was three years ago. Perhaps the M.G.B. could tell us of the more recent activities of this man.’
Colonel Nikitin whispered hurriedly with his aide. He turned back to the table. ‘We have very little further information, Comrade General,’ he said defensively. ‘We believe that he was involved in some diamond smuggling affair. That was last year. Between Africa and America. The case did not concern us. Since then we have no further news of him. Perhaps there is more recent information on his file.’
General G. nodded. He picked up the receiver of the telephone nearest to him. This was the so-called Kommandant Telefon of the M.G.B. All lines were direct and there was no central switchboard. He dialled a number. ‘Central Index? Here General Grubozaboyschikov. The zapiska of “Bond” – English spy. Emergency.’ He listened for the immediate ‘At once, Comrade General,’ and put back the receiver. He looked down the table with authority. ‘Comrades, from many points of view this spy sounds an appropriate target. He appears to be a dangerous enemy of the State. His liquidation will be of benefit to all departments of our Intelligence apparat. Is that so?’
The conference grunted.
‘Also his loss will be felt by the Secret Service. But will it do more? Will it seriously wound them? Will it help to destroy this myth about which we have been speaking? Is this man a hero to his organization and his country?’
General Vozdvishensky decided that this question was intended for him. He spoke up. ‘The English are not interested in heroes unless they are footballers or cricketers or jockeys. If a man climbs a mountain or runs very fast he also is a hero to some people, but not to the masses. The Queen of England is also a hero, and Churchill. But the English are not greatly interested in military heroes. This man Bond is unknown to the public. If he was known, he would still not be a hero. In England, neither open war nor secret war is a heroic matter. They do not like to think about war, and after a war the names of their war heroes are forgotten as quickly as possible. Within the Secret Service, this man may be a local hero or he may not. It will depend on his appearance and personal characteristics. Of these I know nothing. He may be fat and greasy and unpleasant. No one makes a hero out of such a man, however successful he is.’
Nikitin broke in. ‘English spies we have captured speak highly of this man. He is certainly much admired in his Service. He is said to be a lone wolf, but a good looking one.’
The internal office telephone purred softly. General G. lifted the receiver, listened briefly and said, ‘Bring it in.’ There was a knock on the door. The A.D.C. came in carrying a bulky file in cardboard covers. He crossed the room and placed the file on the desk in front of the General and walked out, closing the door softly behind him.
The file had a shiny black cover. A thick white stripe ran diagonally across it from top right-hand corner to bottom left. In the top left-hand space there were the letters ‘S.S.’ in white, and under them ‘SOVER-SHENNOE SEKRETNO’, the equivalent of ‘Top Secret’. Across the centre was neatly painted in white letters ‘JAMES BOND’, and underneath ‘Angliski Spion’.