Carte Blanche

never did that.
    “Nasad?” Bond asked. “His body?” The thought of an ally going to such an ignominious grave was hard.
    Leiter’s lips tightened. “If Hydt and the Irishman were involved and I called in a team, they’d know we were on to them. I’m not risking our cover at this point. Yusuf knew what he was getting into.”
    Bond nodded. It was the right way to handle it, though that didn’t make the decision any easier.
    Leiter inhaled the fumes of his whiskey, then drank again. “You know, in this business, it’s choices like that that’re the hard ones—not pulling out your six-shooter and playing Butch Cassidy. That, you just do without thinking.”
    Bond’s mobile buzzed. T Branch had booked him an overnight flight on Emirates to Cape Town. It left in three hours. Bond was pleased with the choice of carrier. The airline had studiously avoided becoming just another mass market operation and treated its passengers to what he guessed was the quality service that typified the golden age of air travel fifty or sixty years ago. He told Leiter of his departure arrangements. He added, “Let’s get some food.”
    The American waved over a waiter and asked for a mezze platter. “And then bring us a grilled hammour. Bone it, if y’all’d be so kind.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    Bond ordered a bottle of a good premier cru Chablis, which arrived a moment later. They sipped from the chilled glasses silently until the first course arrived: kofta, olives, hummus, cheese, aubergine, nuts and the best flatbread Bond had ever had. Both men began to eat. After the waiter had cleared away the remnants, he brought the main course. The simple white fish lay steaming on a bed of green lentils. It was very good, delicate, yet with a faint meatiness. Bond had eaten only a few mouthfuls when his phone hummed again. Caller ID showed only the code for a British government number. Thinking Philly might be ringing from a different office, Bond answered.
    He immediately regretted doing so.

Chapter 31
    “James! James! James! Guess who? Percy here. Long time no speak!”
    Bond’s heart sank.
    Leiter frowned, at the glower on Bond’s face.
    “Percy . . . yes.”
    Division Three’s Osborne-Smith inquired, “You well? No altercations requiring anything more than a plaster, I trust.”
    “I’m fine.”
    “Delighted to hear it. Now, things are proceeding apace here. Your boss has briefed everyone about the Gehenna plan. You were perhaps too busy fleeing the jurisdiction to be in touch.” He let that hang for a moment, then said, “Aha. Just winding you up, James. Fact is, I’m calling for several reasons and the first is to apologize.”
    “Really?” Bond asked, suspicious.
    The Division Three man’s voice grew serious. “In London this morning, I’ll admit I had a tac team ready to grab Hydt at the airport, bring him in for some tea and conversation. But it turns out you were right. The Watchers picked up a scrap and managed to decrypt it. Hold on—I quote from the record. Here we go: something garbled, then ‘Severan has three main partners . . . any one of them can push the button if he’s not available.’ So you see, James, arresting him would have been a disaster, just as you said. The others would have scurried down the rabbit hole and we’d’ve lost any chance to find out what Gehenna was about and stop it.” He paused for breath. “I was a touch whingey when we met and I’m sorry about that too. I want to work with you on this, James. Apologies accepted? Bygones turned to bygones with a swipe of Hermione’s magic wand?”
    In the intelligence world, Bond had learned, your allies sought forgiveness for their transgressions against you about as often as your enemies did. He supposed that some of Osborne-Smith’s contrition was based on staying in the game for part of the glory but that was all right with Bond. All he cared about was learning what the Gehenna plan was and preventing thousands of deaths.
    “I suppose.”
    “Good. Now, your boss sent us a signal about what you found up in March and I’m following it up. The ‘blast radius’ is pretty obvious—an IED—so we’re tracking down any reports of stray explosives. And we know that one of the ‘terms’ of the deal involves five million quid. I’ve called in some favors at the Bank of England to check SFT activity.”
    Bond, too, had thought of calling the bank with a request to flag suspect financial transactions. But nowadays five