Zero Minus Ten

TWENTY-ONE

COUNTDOWN

JAMES BOND STUMBLED INTO THE ULURU NATIONAL PARK RANGER STATION and nearly collapsed on the floor. An Aborigine dressed in a park ranger uniform stood up in surprise.

“You all right, mate?” he asked.

“Water … phone …” Bond whispered.

An hour later, Bond had showered, eaten a meal, and spent fifteen minutes with his eyes closed. He was dead tired and probably had a mild case of heat exhaustion. He would have liked to have crawled into a hole for a week, but there was just a little more than twentyfour hours left. It was precious little time, and he had to find the quickest way back to Hong Kong. The rangers had provided him with a clean uniform, as his clothes were soiled and torn. When he went through his pockets, Bond found the business card that Skip Stewart had given him in the pub in Kalgoorlie. Perhaps the man’s tourguide service would come in handy after all. Bond placed a phone call to Stewart and luckily found him in. Stewart agreed to fly to the Ayers Rock airport and pick up Bond for a small fee. He would arrive in about three hours.

Now it was time to call London. He dreaded M’s wrath, but it had to be done. He went through the usual security measures, was connected to Bill Tanner, and finally to M herself.

“007? Where the hell are you?”

“Australia, ma’am. I’ve found the source of the nuclear explosion, and it’s directly related to our man Thackeray and EurAsia Enterprises,” he said quickly.

There was silence at the other end. He’d expected her to say something about orders to remain in Hong Kong.

“Tell me more,” was what she finally said.

Bond gave a brief version of everything that had happened in the last forty-eight hours, and how he had got to be where he was.

“You’re lucky to be alive,” she said. “I’ll put out an all-alert to our fleet in Hong Kong. Any idea where Thackeray is going to put this bomb?”

“No idea. Could be anywhere. We haven’t much time.”

“Precisely. How fast can you get back to Hong Kong?”

“I expect a ride back to Perth in a little while. I’m afraid the only transportation I can get back to Hong Kong is a commercial airline. Leaves tomorrow morning and doesn’t get in until the evening.”

“That’s cutting it much too fine,” she said. “All right, do what you can. When you get back to Hong Kong, contact Captain Plante aboard the Peacock. She’s one of our Peacock Class patrol craft, and she’ll be in Victoria Harbour. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am, but I request permission to contact Li Xu Nan again. He may be able to help with this.”

“007, this department does not sanction your dealing with Triad members or any other criminal organization. We’ll deal with your insubordination and leaving Hong Kong against my orders when you’re back in London. Mind you, if you hadn’t discovered what you did, I’d have had your hide!”

She rang off. Without a second thought, Bond dialled Li Xu Nan’s private number in Kowloon.

Skip Stewart arrived at 9:30 p.m. He flew a Piper Navajo PA-310, an American-manufactured plane that had an all-weather and night capacity performance.

“Howzitgoin,’ mate?” he asked when he jumped out of the cockpit to greet Bond. “When did you become a park ranger? Never mind. How do you like her? I bought her from the Royal Flying Doctors a couple of years ago when their Alice Springs headquarters upgraded.”

“Just get me to Perth before morning, Skip,” Bond said. “I have a Qantas flight to Hong Kong that leaves at 8:30.”

“No worries, mate. My little Airy-Jane will get you there. We’ll have to stop in Kalgoorlie for a refill, ya know …” he said. “Wish I could help you out and take you all the way to Hong Kong, but my little bird, there’s only so far she can go. Say, did I tell you about my auntie who struck gold in Coolgardie when she was twelve years old … ?”

By 10:00 p.m., James Bond was in the air over the outback once again. The only problem this time was that he had to listen to three hours’ worth of bush stories.

ZERO MINUS ONE: 30 JUNE 1997, 9:30 P.M., HONG KONG

The news had hit the morning papers of 29 June. The South China Morning Post front-page headline declared CHINESE GENERAL IN DRUG-SMUGGLING SCHEME. The Hong Kong Standard carried the photographs Li’s men had taken, accompanied by the headline: MURDERED CHINESE GENERAL IN DRUG PLOT. The story detailed how Wong had been involved with “Triad societies” in a worldwide drug-smuggling plot that also involved EurAsia Enterprises. The general was also implicated in the several terrorist acts that had occurred in the territory over the past few weeks, including the car-bomb murder of Guy Thackeray. Wong’s own assassination was being attributed to a disgruntled EurAsia employee. According to the article, the assassin had been caught and killed at the border. Even the official Chinese news agency, Xinhua, issued a statement denouncing General Wong’s involvement with a criminal organization. Although Beijing stopped short of an apology for accusing Britain of Wong’s murder, the official word was that the general deserved what he had got.

The news literally saved Hong Kong from an early Chinese takeover. The troops had been prepared to march south across the border on the morning of 29 June. The Royal Navy fleet of three Peacock Class patrol craft had been joined by the destroyer and two frigates that had arrived on 28 June, and had combined forces with the Hong Kong naval fleet. Royal Marines had moved on to the peninsula and were now stationed in the New Territories, anticipating the crisis that ultimately never happened. The Hong Kong government breathed a sigh of relief at the news, for it meant that perhaps the handover, scheduled for midnight on the 30th, would be a peaceful one after all. Despite the averting of the immediate crisis, tensions were still very high and mistrust of China was rampant.

Festivities began early on the morning of the 30th. The Chinese New Year was of only secondary importance compared to the coming event. Shops closed and the population took to the streets. There were celebrations on every corner. Hong Kong Park was full of both pro-democracy and pro-China groups. The Royal Hong Kong Police had to provide a heavy presence to ensure that peace was maintained. Statue Square was blocked off from traffic in preparation for the night’s event, and visiting officials from around the world had flown in for the occasion. Every hotel was totally booked.

Once again James Bond disobeyed his superior’s orders and went straight to Li Xu Nan’s office building when he got to Kowloon that evening. The Dragon Head had assembled ten men, all outfitted with miscellaneous automatic weapons. They were ready to move at a moment’s notice.

Bond made contact with Captain Plante aboard the Peacock. Although Plante was perturbed that 007 was in Kowloon, he was willing to cooperate and do whatever he could to find Thackeray and the bomb. The Royal Hong Kong Police had been put on alert as well, and they were working double-time searching the Central District.

“Where could Thackeray place that bomb for maximum effect?” Bond asked Li.

“I have been thinking about that. I would suspect that it would be Central. That is where EurAsia’s headquarters is, and where all the important bank buildings and businesses are. It is the financial centre of Hong Kong. The police are already searching the area.”

“That’s what I thought, too. Somehow, though, I feel it’s wrong,” Bond said. “It’s too obvious.”

“Yes, I know what you mean.”

Something was nagging at Bond’s memory, and he knew that it was a clue to the bomb’s whereabouts.

“Think, Mr. Bond,” said Li. “Did Thackeray say anything about where he might put it? Did its shape or size indicate where it might be placed?”

Bond went over everything he could recall about his fateful meeting in Australia. Mostly he remembered an alcoholic madman with a childish lust for revenge.

“He’s also got Sunni,” Bond said. “He said that …”

And then he remembered. “My god,” he said. “Do you have a boat? It’s going to be in the harbour on a boat.”

“How do you know?”

“Thackeray said that Sunni would make a nice figurehead for the bomb. There was a sampan at the Kwai Chung warehouse, and I saw it again in Australia. They’re going to put the bomb inside the sampan and casually float it out into the harbour!”

Li nodded. “I have a boat. Let’s go!”

11:10 P.M.

Li’s Sealine Statesman 420 was a high quality British import equipped with twin 370-hp Volvo diesels and had a cruising speed of 27.7 knots and a top end of 33.5. A large yacht, the Statesman 420 was nevertheless sleek and sporty. She had sped out into the harbour at precisely 11:00, but quickly had to reduce her speed because of the congestion in the water. Bond and Li were on the upper deck, looking through binoculars at the hundreds of vessels crowding the relatively small body of water.

The Marine Police had given up directing the traffic on this particular night. Too many seagoing individuals wanted a good view of the fireworks display scheduled for midnight. A free-for-all was finally allowed, so long as everyone kept their speed down and didn’t crash into each other. Along with the numerous police and Royal Navy vessels, there were sampans, junks, tugboats, cargo ships, ferries, sailing boats, yachts, motorboats, and rowing boats—all jamming what was at that moment the world’s busiest harbour.

Bond was looking for a dark brown sampan with a red hood. Unfortunately, most sampans were dark brown. He prayed that the red hood would give it away.

There was no sign of the Taitai, and Bond wondered where she could possibly be. Keeping close contact with Captain Plante, Bond had made enquiries about the ship’s movements. Records showed that the Taitai had indeed left Singapore two days ago and was headed for Hong Kong, but no one had seen her since. Bond could only speculate that Thackeray was lying low, probably lurking near one of the outlying islands. The sampan was probably flown to Singapore in the same cargo seaplane that Thackeray and Sunni took from Perth. It made sense—cargo seaplanes had long been used to rendezvous with and smuggle drugs on to ocean-going vessels. The Taitai had sailed to the waters near Singapore, where the sampan was loaded on to the seaplane and then flown to Australia. The trip was made in reverse to get it back to Hong Kong. The sampan would probably be sent in by itself, piloted by an unsuspecting minion.

“Can’t we get this thing going any faster?” Bond snapped.

“I am sorry,” Li said. “You can see the harbour is crowded. This is as fast as we can go.”

“We’ll never make it across to the other side at this rate,” Bond said. He felt utterly helpless.

A call came in on the radio for Bond. It was Captain Plante.

“Uhm, Commander Bond?”

“Yes, Captain?”

“You say you’re looking for a sampan with a red roof?”

“Yes!”

“Well, there’s an odd thing over here by us. There’s a cargo ship—a British one, I think. Called the Glory. They have a sampan fitting that description tied to the side like a lifeboat.”

Captain Plante was calling from the Peacock, which was directly in the centre of the harbour, facing Central. Bond turned and scanned the area with his binoculars.

“Where’s the Glory in relation to you, Captain?” he asked.

“Due north, about a mile.”

Bond found the ship. The Glory looked exactly like the Taitai, except that it had red stripes painted across the hull. The Taitai had been entirely white.

“The bastard painted his ship,” Bond said. “He’s disguised the Taitai and renamed her. That’s it there!”

Li barked an order to the man at the helm of the Statesman and they turned towards the Glory/Taitai. They had about forty-five minutes to find the bomb and disarm it.