Fleming, Ian – From Russia with Love

`Well, I still think it’s crazy,’ said Bond, wondering what M’s reaction would be. `But I suppose it may work. I’ve got the passport. It will need a Yugoslav visa,’ he looked at her sternly. `Don’t think I’m going to take you on the part of the train that goes through Bulgaria, or I shall think you want to kidnap me.’

`I do,’ Tatiana giggled. `That’s exactly what I want to do.’

`Now shut up, Tania. We’ve got to work this out. I’ll get the tickets and I’ll have one of our men come along. Just in case. He’s a good man. You’ll like him. Your name’s Caroline Somerset. Don’t forget it. How are you going to get to the train!’

`Karolin Siomerset,’ the girl turned the name over in her mind. `It is a pretty name. And you are Mister Siomerset.’ She laughed happily. `That is fun. Do not worry about me. I will come to the train just before it leaves. It is the Sirkeci Station. I know where it is. So that is all. And we do not worry any more. Yes?’

`Suppose you lose your nerve? Suppose they catch you?’ Suddenly Bond was worried at the girl’s confidence. How could she be so certain? A sharp tingle of suspicion ran down his spine.

`Before I saw you, I was frightened. Now I am not.’ Tatiana tried to tell herself that this was the truth. Somehow it nearly was. `Now I shall not lose my nerve, as you call it. And they cannot catch me. I shall leave my things in the hotel and take my usual bag to the office. I cannot leave my fur coat behind. I love it too dearly. But today is Sunday and that will be an excuse to come to the office in it. Tonight at half-past eight I shall walk out and take a taxi to the station. And now you must stop looking so worried.’ Impulsively, because she had to, she stretched out a hand towards him. `Say that you are pleased.’

Bond moved to the edge of the bed. He took her hand and looked down into her eyes. God, he thought. I hope it’s all right. I hope this crazy plan will work. Is this wonderful girl a cheat? Is she true? Is she real? The eyes told him nothing except that the girl was happy, and that she wanted him to love her, and that she was surprised at what was happening to her. Tatiana’s other hand came up and round his neck and pulled him fiercely down to her. At first the mouth trembled under his and then, as passion took her, the mouth yielded into a kiss without end.

Bond lifted his legs on to the bed. While his mouth went on kissing her, his hand went to her left breast and held it, feeling the peak hard with desire under his fingers. His hand strayed on down across her flat stomach. Her legs shifted languidly. She moaned softly and her mouth slid away from his. Below the closed eyes the long lashes quivered like humming birds’ wings.

Bond reached up and took the edge of the sheet and pulled it right down and threw it off the end of the huge bed. She was wearing nothing but the black ribbon round her neck and black silk stockings rolled above her knees. Her arms groped up for him.

Above them, and unknown to both of them, behind the gold-framed false mirror on the wall over the bed, the two photographers from SMERSH sat close together in the cramped cabinet de voyeur, as, before them, so many friends of the proprietor had sat on a honeymoon night in the stateroom of the Kristal Palas.

And the view-finders gazed coldly down on the passionate arabesques the two bodies formed and broke and formed again, and the clockwork mechanism of the cine-cameras whirred softly on and on as the breath rasped out of the open mouths of the two men and the sweat of excitement trickled down their bulging faces into their cheap collars.

Chapter Twenty-One

Orient Express

The great trains are going out all over Europe, one by one, but still, three times a week, the Orient Express thunders superbly over the 1 ,400 miles of glittering steel track between Istanbul and Paris.

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