if.thunderball-第22部分
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e no more than a nuisance； one of the team； despite Largo's assurances； might lose his nerve。
They swam on in the soft moonlit mist of the sea。 At first there was nothing but a milky void below them； but then the coral shelf of the island showed up； climbing steeply toward the surface。 Sea fans； like small shrouds in the moonlight； waved softly； beckoning； and the clumps and trees of coral were gray and enigmatic。 It was because of these things； the harmless underwater mysteries that make the skin crawl on the inexperienced； that Largo had decided to lead the disposal teams himself。 Out in the open； where the plane had foundered； the eye of the big searchlight made； with the known object of the plane itself； the underwater world into the semblance of a big room。 But this was different。 This gray…white world needed the contempt of a swimmer who had experienced these phantom dangers a thousand times before。 That was the main reason why Largo led the teams。 He also wanted to know exactly how the two gray sausages were stored away。 It could happen； if things went wrong； that he would have to salvage them himself。
The underpart of the small island had been eroded by the waves so that； seen from below； it resembled a thick mushroom。 Under the umbrella of coral there was a wide fissure； a dark wound in the side of the stem。 Largo made for it and； when he was close； switched on his torch。 Beneath the umbrella of coral it was dark。 The yellow light of the torch showed up the minute life of an inshore coral munity…the pale sea urchins and the fierce black spines of sea eggs； the shifting underbrush of seaweeds； the yellow and blue seeking antennae of a langouste； the butterfly and angel fish； fluttering like moths in the light； a coiled bêche de mer ； a couple of meandering sea caterpillars and the black and green jelly of a sea hare。
Largo lowered the black fins on his feet； got his balance on a ledge； and looked round； shining his torch on the rock so that the two teams could get a foothold。 Then he waved them on and into the smooth broad fissure that showed a glimmer of moonlight at its far end inside the center of the rock。 The underwater cave was only about ten yards long。 Largo led the teams one after the other through and into the small chamber that might once perhaps have been a wonderful repository for a different kind of treasure。 From the chamber a narrow fissure led to the upper air； and this would certainly bee a fine blow…hole in a storm； though it would be unlikely that fishermen would be close enough to the Dog Shoal in a storm to see the water fountaining out of the center of the island。 Above the present water line in the chamber； Largo's men had hammered stanchions into the rock to form cradles for the two atomic weapons with leather straps to hold them secure against any weather。 Now； one by one； the two teams lifted the rubber packages up onto the iron bars and made them secure。 Largo examined the result and was satisfied。 The weapons would be ready for him when he needed them。 In the meantime such radiation as there was would be quarantined within this tiny rock a hundred miles from Nassau and his men and his ship would be clean and innocent as snow。
The five men trudged calmly back to the ship and into the hold through the hatch。 To the boom of the engines the bows of the Disco lifted slowly out of the water and the beautiful ship； streamlined like the gondola of some machine of the air rather than of the sea； skimmed off on the homeward journey。
Largo stripped off his equipment and； with a towel round his slim waist； went forward to the radio cabin。 He had missed the midnight call。 It was now one…fifteen…seven…fifteen in the morning for Blofeld。 Largo thought of this while contact was being made。 Blofeld would be sitting there； haggard perhaps； probably unshaven。 There would be coffee beside him； the last of an endless chain of cups。 Largo could smell it。 Now Blofeld would be able to take a taxi to the Turkish baths in the Rue Aubert； his resort when there were tensions to be dissipated。 And there； at last； he would sleep。 〃Number 1 speaking。〃 〃Number 2 listening。〃
〃Phase III pleted。 Phase III pleted。 Successful。 One a。m。 here。 Closing down。〃 〃I am satisfied。〃
Largo stripped off the earphones。 He thought to himself； 〃So am I！ We are more than three…quarters home。 Now only the devil can stop us。〃
He went into the stateroom and carefully made himself a tall of his favorite drink…crème de menthe frappé with a maraschino cherry on top。
He sipped it delicately to the end and ate the cherry。 Then he took one more cherry out of the bottle； slipped it into his mouth； and went up on the bridge。
11。 Domino
The girl in the sapphire blue MG two…seater shot down the slope of Parliament Street and at the junction with Bay Street executed an admirable racing change through third into second。 She gave a quick glance to the right； correctly estimated the trot of the straw…hatted horse in the shafts of the rickety cab with the gay fringe； and swerved out of the side street left…handed。 The horse jerked back his head indignantly and the coachman stamped his foot up and down on the big Bermuda bell。 The disadvantage of the beautiful deep ting…tong； ting…tong of the Bermuda carriage bell is that it cannot possibly sound angry； however angrily you may sound it。 The girl gave a cheerful wave of a sunburned hand； raced up the street in second； and stopped in front of the Pipe of Peace； the Dunhills of Nassau。
Not bothering to open the low door of the MG； the girl swung one brown leg and then the other over the side of the car； showing her thighs under the pleated cream cotton skirt almost to her waist； and slipped to the pavement。 By now the cab was alongside。 The cabby reined in。 He was mollified by the gaiety and beauty of the girl。 He said； 〃Missy； you done almost shaved de whiskers off of Old Dreamy here。 You wanna be more careful。〃
The girl put her hands on her hips。 She didn't like being told anything by anyone。 She said sharply； 〃Old Dreamy yourself。 Some people have got work to do。 Both of you ought to be put out to grass instead of cluttering up the streets getting in everyone's way。〃
The ancient Negro opened his mouth； thought better of it； said a pacifying 〃Hokay； Missy。 Hokay；〃 flicked at his horse； and moved on； muttering to himself。 He turned on his seat to get another look at the she…devil； but she had already disappeared into the shop。 〃Dat's a fine piece of gal；〃 he said inconsequentially； and put his horse into an ambling trot。
Twenty yards away； James Bond had witnessed the whole scene。 He felt the same way about the girl as the cabby did。 He also knew who she was。 He quickened his step and pushed through the striped sun blinds into the blessed cool of the tobacconist's。
The girl was standing at a counter arguing with one of the assistants。 〃But I tell you I don't want Senior Service。 I tell you I want a cigarette that's so disgusting that I shan't want to smoke it。 Haven't you got a cigarette that stops people smoking？ Look at all that。〃 She waved a hand toward the stacked shelves。 〃Don't tell me some of those don't taste horrible。〃
The man was used to crazy tourists； and anyway the Nassavian doesn't get excited。 He said； 〃Well； Ma'am 。 。 。〃 and turned and languidly looked along the shelves。
Bond said sternly to the girl； 〃You can choose between two kinds of cigarette if you want to smoke less。〃
She looked sharply up at him。 〃And who might you be？〃 〃My name's Bond； James Bond。 I'm the world's authority on giving up smoking。 I do it constantly。 You're lucky I happen to be handy。〃
The girl looked him up and down。 He was a man she hadn't seen before in Nassau。 He was about six feet tall and somewhere in his middle thirties。 He had dark； rather cruel good looks and very clear blue…gray eyes that were now observing her inspection sardonically。 A scar down his right cheek showed pale against a tan so mild that he must have only recently e to the island。 He was wearing a very dark blue lightweight single…breasted suit over a cream silk shirt and a black knitted silk tie。 Despite the heat； he looked cool and clean； and his only concession to the tropics appeared to be the black saddle…stitched sandals on his bare feet。 It was an obvious attempt at a pick…up。 He had an exciting face； and authority。 She decided to go along。 But she wasn't going to make it easy。 She said coldly； 〃All right。 Tell me。〃
〃The only way to stop smoking is to stop it and not start again。 If you want to pretend to stop for a week or two； it's no good trying to ration yourself。 You'll bee a bore and think about nothing else。 And you'll snatch at a cigarette every time the hour strikes or whatever the intervals may be。 You'll behave greedily。 That's unattractive。 The other way is to have cigarettes that are either too mild or too strong。 The mild ones are probably the best for you。〃 Bond said to the attendant； 〃A carton of Dukes； king…size with filter。〃 Bond handed them to the girl。 〃Here； try these。 With the pliments of Faust。〃
〃Oh； but I can't。 I mean 。 。 。〃
But Bond had already paid for the carton and
