if.thunderball-第42部分

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rs　usually　are。　So　it　all　fits。　I　can　even　remember　that；　for　a　whole　week　before　last　Thursday；　Largo　was　terribly　nervous　and　irritable。　We　were　already　getting　tired　of　each　other。　I　put　it　down　to　that。　I　was　even　making　plans　for　flying　home　by　myself。　But　he　has　been　better　the　last　few　days　and　when　he　told　me　to　be　packed　and　ready　to　e　on　board　this　evening；　I　thought　I　might　just　as　well　do　as　he　said。　And　of　course　I　was　very　excited　over　this　treasure　hunt。　I　wanted　to　see　what　it　was　all　about。　But　then〃…she　looked　out　to　sea…〃there　was　you。　And　this　afternoon；　after　what　happened；　I　had　decided　to　tell　Largo　I　would　not　go。　I　would　stay　here　and　see　where　you　went　and　go　with　you。〃　For　the　first　time　she　looked　him　full　in　the　face　and　held　his　eyes。　〃Would　you　have　let　me　do　that？〃
　
　Bond　reached　out　and　put　his　hand　against　her　cheek。　〃Of　course　I　would。〃
　
　〃But　what　happens　now？　When　shall　I　see　you　again？〃
　
　This　was　the　question　Bond　had　dreaded。　By　sending　her　back　on　board；　and　with　the　Geiger　counter；　he　was　putting　her　in　double　danger。　She　could　be　found　out　by　Largo；　in　which　case　her　death　would　be　immediate。　If　it　came　to　a　chase；　which　seemed　almost　certain；　the　Manta　would　sink　the　Disco　by　gunfire　or　torpedo；　probably　without　warning。　Bond　had　added　up　these　factors　and　had　closed　his　mind　to　them。　He　kept　it　closed。　He　said；　〃As　soon　as　this　is　over。　I　shall　look　for　you　wherever　you　are。　But　now　you　are　going　to　be　in　danger。　You　know　this。　Do　you　want　to　go　on　with　it？〃　She　looked　at　her　watch。　She　said；　〃It　is　half　past　four。　I　must　go。　Do　not　e　with　me　to　the　car。　Kiss　me　once　and　stay　here。　Do　not　worry　about　what　you　want　done。　I　will　do　it　well。　It　is　either　that　or　a　stiletto　in　the　hack　for　this　man。〃　She　held　out　her　arms。　〃e。〃　Minutes　later　Bond　heard　the　engine　of　the　MG　e　to　life。　He　waited　until　the　sound　had　receded　in　the　distance　down　the　Western　Coast　Road；　then　he　went　to　the　Land　Rover　and　climbed　in　and　followed。
　
　A　mile　down　the　coast；　at　the　two　white　obelisks　that　marked　the　entrance　to　Palmyra；　dust　still　hung　in　the　driveway。　Bond　sneered　at　his　impulse　to　drive　in　after　her　and　stop　her　from　going　out　to　the　yacht。　What　in　hell　was　he　thinking　of？　He　drove　on　fast　down　the　road　to　Old　Fort　Point；　where　the　police　watchers　were　housed　in　the　garage　of　a　deserted　villa。　They　were　there；　one　man　reading　a　paperback　in　a　canvas　chair　while　the　other　sat　before　tripod　binoculars　that　were　trained　on　the　Disco　through　a　gap　in　the　blinds　of　a　side　window。　The　khaki　walkie…talkie　set　was　beside　them　on　the　floor。　Bond　gave　them　the　new　briefing　and　got　on　the　radio　to　the　Police　missioner　and　confirmed　it　to　him。　The　missioner　passed　two　messages　to　him　from　Leiter。　One　was　to　the　effect　that　the　visit　to　Palmyra　had　been　negative　except　that　a　servant　had　said　the　girl's　baggage　had　gone　on　board　the　Disco　that　afternoon。　The　boathouse　was　pletely　innocent。　It　contained　a　glass…bottomed　boat　and　pedallo。　The　pedallo　would　have　made　the　tracks　they　had　seen　from　the　air。　The　second　message　said　that　the　Manta　was　expected　in　twenty　minutes。　Would　Bond　meet　Leiter　at　the　Prince　George；　Wharf；　where　she　would　dock。
　
　***
　
　The　Manta　；　ing　with　infinite　caution　up…channel；　had　none　of　the　greyhound　elegance　of　the　conventional　submarine。　She　was　blunt　and　thick　and　ugly。　The　bulbous　metal　cucumber；　her　rounded　nose　shrouded　with　tarpaulin　to　hide　the　secrets　of　her　radar　scanner　from　the　Nassavians；　held　no　suggestion　of　her　speed；　which　Leiter　said　was　around　forty　knots　submerged。　〃But　they　won't　tell　you　that；　James。　That's　Classified。　I　guess　we're　going　to　find　that　even　the　paper　in　the　can　is　Classified　when　we　go　aboard。　Watch　out　for　these　Navy　guys；　Nowadays　they're　so　tight…lipped　they　think　even　a　belch　is　a　security　risk。〃
　
　〃What　else　do　you　know　about　her？〃
　
　〃Well；　we　won't　tell　this　to　the　captain；　but　of　course　in　C。I。A。　we　had　to　be　taught　the　basic　things　about　these　atom　subs；　so　we　could　brief　agents　on　what　to　look　for　and　recognize　clues　in　their　reports。　She's　one　of　the　George　Washington　Class；　about　four　thousand　tons；　crew　of　around　a　hundred；　cost　about　a　hundred　million　dollars。　Range；　anything　you　want　until　the　chow　runs　out　or　until　the　nuclear　reactor　needs　topping　up…say　every　hundred　thousand　miles　or　so。　If　she　has　the　same　armament　as　the　George　Washington；　she'll　have　sixteen　vertical　launching　tubes；　two　banks　of　eight；　for　the　Polaris　solid…fuel　missile。　These　have　a　range　of　around　twelve　hundred　miles。　The　crews　call　the　tubes　the　‘Sherwood　Forest'　because　they're　painted　green　and　the　missile　partment　looks　like　rows　of　great　big　tree　trunks。　These　Polaris　jobs　are　fired　from　way　down　below　the　surface。　The　sub　stops　and　holds　dead　steady。　They　have　the　ship's　exact　position　at　all　times　through　radio　fixes　and　star　sights　through　a　tricky　affair　called　a　star…tracker　periscope。　All　this　dope　is　fed　into　the　missiles　automatically。　Then　the　chief　gunner　presses　a　button　and　a　missile　shoots　up　through　the　water　by　pressed　air。　When　it　breaks　surface　the　solid…fuel　rockets　ignite　and　take　the　missile　the　rest　of　the　way。　Hell　of　a　weapon；　really；　when　you　e　to　think　of　it。　Imagine　these　damned　things　shooting　up　out　of　the　sea　anywhere　in　the　world　and　blowing　some　capital　city　to　smithereens。　We've　got　six　of　them　already　and　we're　going　to　have　more。　Good　deterrent　when　you　e　to　think　of　it。　You　don't　know　where　they　are　or　when。　Not　like　bomber　bases　and　firing　pads　and　so　on　you　can　track　down　and　put　out　of　action　with　your　first　rocket　wave。〃
　
　Bond　mented　drily；　〃They'll　find　some　way　of　spotting　them。　And　presumably　an　atomic　depth　charge　set　deep　would　send　a　shock　wave　through　hundreds　of　miles　of　water　and　blow　anything　to　pieces　over　a　huge　area。　But　has　she　got　anything　smaller　than　these　missiles？　If　we're　going　to　do　a　job　on　the　Disco　what　are　we　going　to　use？〃
　
　〃She's　got　six　torpedo　tubes　up　front　and　I　dare　say　she's　got　some　smaller　stuff…machine　guns　and　so　forth。　The　trouble's　going　to　be　to　get　the　mander　to　fire　them。　He's　not　going　to　like　firing　on　an　unarmed　civilian　yacht　on　the　orders　of　a　couple　of　plainclothes　guys；　and　one　of　them　a　Limey　at　that。　Hope　his　orders　from　the　Navy　Department　are　as　solid　as　mine　and　yours。〃　The　huge　submarine　bumped　gently　against　the　wharf。　Lines　were　thrown　and　an　aluminum　gangplank　was　run　ashore。　There　was　a　ragged　cheer　from　the　crowd　of　watchers　being　held　back　by　a　cordon　of　police。　Leiter　said；　〃Well；　here　we　go。　And　to　one　hell　of　a　tad　start。　Not　a　hat　between　us　to　salute　the　quarter　deck　with。　You　curtsy；　I'll　bow。〃
　
　20。　Time　for　Decision
　
　The　interior　of　the　submarine　was　incredibly　roomy；　and　it　was　stairs　and　not　a　ladder　that　led　down　into　the　interior。　There　was　no　clutter；　and　the　sparkling　paintwork　was　in　two…tone　green。　Powerlines　painted　in　vivid　colors　provided　a　cheerful　contrast　to　the　almost　hospital　decor。　Preceded　by　the　officer　of　the　watch；　a　young　man　of　about　twenty…eight；　they　went　down　two　decks。　The　air　（70o　with　46％　humidity；　explained　the　officer）　was　beautifully　cool。　At　the　bottom　of　the　stairs　he　turned　left　and　knocked　on　a　door　that　said　〃　mander　P。　Pedersen；　U。S。N。　〃
　
　The　captain　looked　about　forty。　He　had　a　square；　rather　Scandinavian　face　with　a　black　crew…cut　just　going　gray。　He　had　shrewd；　humorous　eyes　but　a　dangerous　mouth　and　jaw。　He　was　sitting　behind　a　neatly　stacked　metal　desk　smoking　a　pipe。　There　was　an　empty　coffee　cup　in　front　of　him　and　a　signal　pad　on　which　he　had　just　been　writing。　He　got　up　and　shook　hands；　waved　them　to　two　chairs　in　front　of　his　desk；　and　said　to　the　officer　of　the　watch；　〃Coffee；　please；　Stanton。　And　have　this　sent；　would　you？〃　He　tore　the　top　sheet　off　the　signal　pad　and　handed　it　across。　〃Most　Immediate。〃
　
　He　sat　down。　〃Well；　gentlemen。　Wele　aboard。　mander　Bond；　it's　a　pleasure　to　have　a　member　of　the　Royal　Navy　visit　the　ship。　Ever　been　in　subs　before？〃
　
　〃I　have；〃　said　Bond；　〃but　only　as　a　supercargo。　I　was　in　Intelligence…R。N。V。R。　Special　Branch。　Strictly　a　chocolate　sailor。〃　The　captain　laughed。　〃That's　good！　And　you；　Mr。　Leiter？〃　〃No；　Captain。　But　I　used　to　have　one　of　my　own。　You　operated　it　with　a　sort　of　rubber　bulb　and　tube。　Trouble　was　they'd　never　let　me　have　enough　depth　of　water　in　the　bath　to　see　what　she　could　really　do。〃
　
　〃Sounds　rather　like　the　Navy　Department。　They'll　never　let　me　try　this　ship　full　out。　Except　once　on　trials。　Every　time　you　want　to　get　going；　the　needle　es　across　a　damn　red　line　some　interfering　so…and…so　has　painted　on　the　dial。　Well　gentlemen〃…the　captain　looked　at　Leiter…〃what's　the　score？　Haven't　had　such　a　flood　of　Top　Secret　Most　Immediates　since　Korea。　I　don't　mind　telling　you；　the　last　one　was　from　the　Chief　of　the　Navy；　Personal。　Said　I　was　to　consider　myself　under　your　orders；　or；　on　your　death　or　incapacity；　under　mander　Bond's；　until　Admiral　Carlson　arrives　at　1900　this　evening。　So　what？　What's　cooking？　All　I　know　is　that　all　signals　have　been　prefixed　Operation　Thunderball。　What　is　this　operation？〃
　
　Bond　had　greatly　taken　to　mander　Pedersen。　He　liked　his　ease　and　humo