MOONRAKER BY IAN FLEMING

Bond looked into Gala’s dripping face. Soaked and bleeding they stood in each other’s arms, speechless and trembling slightly with the storm of their emotions. Their eyes were blank and fathomless as they met and held each other’s gaze.

“Your majesty, men and women of England,” the voice was a velvet snarl. “I am about to change the course of England’s history.” A pause. “In a few minutes’ time the lives of all of you will be altered, in some cases, ahem, drastically, by the, er, impact of the Moonraker. I am very proud and pleased that fate has singled me out, from amongst all my fellow countrymen, to fire this great arrow of vengeance into the skies and thus to proclaim for all time, and for all the world to witness, the might of my fatherland. I hope that this occasion will be forever a warning that the fate of my country’s enemies will be written in dust, in ashes, in tears, and,” a pause, “in blood. And now thank you all for listening and I sincerely hope that those of you who are able will repeat my words to your children, if you have any, tonight.”

A rattle of rather hesitant applause sounded out of the machine and then came the breezy voice of the announcer. “And that was Sir Hugo Drax saying a few words to you before he walks across the floor of the firing point to the switch on the wall which will fire the Moonraker. The first time he has spoken in public. Very, ahem, forthright. Doesn’t mince his words. However, a lot of us will say there’s no harm in that. And now it’s time for me to hand over to the expert, Group Captain Tandy of the Ministry of Supply, who will describe to you the actual firing of the Moonraker. After that you will hear Peter Trimble in one of the naval security patrol, HMS Merganzer, describe the scene in the target area. Group Captain Tandy.”

Bond glanced at his watch. “Only a minute more,” he said to Gala. “God, I’d like to get my hands on Drax. Here,” he reached for the cake of soap and gouged some pieces off it. “Stuff this in your ears when the time comes. The noise is going to be terrific, I don’t know about the heat. It won’t last long and the steel walls may stand up to it.”

Gala looked at him. She smiled. “If you hold me it won’t be too bad,” she said.

“… and now Sir Hugo has his hand on the switch and he’s watching the chronometer.”

“TEN,” broke in another voice, heavy and sonorous as the toll of a bell.

Bond turned on the shower and the water hissed down on their clinging bodies.

“NINE,” tolled the voice of the time-keeper.

“… the radar operators are watching the screens. Nothing but a mass of wavy lines…”

“EIGHT.”

“… all wearing ear-plugs. Blockhouse should be indestructable. Concrete walls are twelve feet thick. Pyramid roof, twenty-seven feet thick at the point…”

“SEVEN.”

“… first the radio beam will stop the time mechanism alongside the turbines. Set the pinwheel going. Flaming thing like a Catherine wheel…”

“SIX.”

“… valves will open. Liquid fuel. Secret formula. Terrific stuff. Dynamite. Pours down from the fuel tanks…”

“FIVE.”

“… ignited by the pinwheel when the fuel gets to the rocket motor…”

“FOUR.”

“… meanwhile the peroxide and permanganate have mixed, made steam and the turbine pumps begin to turn…”

“THREE.”

“… pumping the flaming fuel through the motor out of the stern of the rocket into the exhaust pit. Gigantic heat… 3500 degrees…”

“TWO.”

“… Sir Hugo is about to press the switch. He’s staring out through the slit. Perspiration on his forehead. Absolute silence in here. Terrific tension.”

“ONE.”

Nothing but the noise of the water, steadily pouring down on the two clinging bodies.

FIRE!

Bond’s heart jumped into his throat at the shout. He felt Gala shudder. Silence. Nothing but the hissing of the water…

“… Sir Hugo’s left the firing point. Walking calmly over to the edge of the cliff. So confident. He’s stepped on to the hoist. He’s going down. Of course. He must be going out to the submarine. Television screen shows a little steam coming out of the tail of the rocket. A few more seconds. Yes, he’s out on the jetty. He looked back and raised his arm in the air. Good old Sir Hu…”

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