Devil May Care

extra fuel tanks, six rocket launchers and four surface-to-air missiles, had left the hangar, and there was tension among the men as the mighty engines opened up on the calm sea. The drag created by the bow wave meant that more power was necessary to achieve the initial lift-off from the sea than to run at full speed. The maximum drag came well before take-off speed, as the craft needed to climb its own bow wave to get clear of the water.
    As the screaming of the engines rose and the Ekranoplan remained stuck to the ocean, the Russian looked at the anxious faces around him. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said in Farsi.
    The pilot reached out and pulled down the switch in front of him that activated the PAR – Power Augmentation of Ram – which briefly diverted the engine thrust to force air beneath the wings.
    Suddenly, there was an upward surge, and they were skimming clear above the water on a cushion of air. The pilot was able to drop the engine revs even as the speedincreased, and spontaneous applause went round the cramped crew area.
    The traffic stopped along the sea-front at Noshahr and Chalus, and hundreds of local people stood and stared at the breathtaking sight.
    Oblivious to the spectacle the Ekranoplan was creating, the Russian bent to his radio set.
    ‘This is the strangest war room I ever saw,’ said Felix Leiter, looking at the bowls of pomegranates and barberries on the table and the ocean view through the window of Jalal’s Five Star room 234.
    J. D. Silver held his cup of tea to his mouth while his eyes swivelled round to take in his surroundings.
    The bedside telephone bleeped, and Felix picked it up. ‘It’s for you, Darius,’ he said. ‘Your man Babak in Tehran.’
    Darius leaped over the bed and grabbed the receiver.
    ‘Babak? Have you got the details? Good. Let me have them.’
    On the pad of paper by the bed his pen scribbled furiously – ‘Latitude 46.34944. Longitude 48.04917. Latitude 48.8047222. Longitude 44.5858333’ – and other words in Farsi illegible to Leiter and Silver, who looked over his shoulder.
    After about five minutes, Darius replaced the receiver and handed the piece of paper to J. D. Silver. ‘This is where the Ekranoplan is heading,’ he said. ‘These are the speed calculations and this codeword means it’s nuclear-armed. You’re going to have to move fast.’
    ‘Sure,’ said Silver. ‘How secure is this line?’
    ‘Who knows?’ said Leiter. ‘But it’s the only one we got, pal.’
    Silver hunched over the phone. ‘Just cut me a little slack here, guys. There’s one or two codes I have to put in when I get through that even you guys … No offence.’
    ‘None taken,’ said Leiter. ‘Let’s admire the view, Darius.’
    ‘Hamid,’ said Darius, ‘will you wait in the corridor outside?’
    Felix and Darius stood in the window and looked towards the sea. Felix raised the metal claw he used for a right hand. ‘I’d cross my fingers if I had any,’ he said.
    Darius, large and bear-like, put his arm round Felix’s shoulders. ‘It’s all destiny,’ he said. ‘ Kismet. ’
    ‘Double four six,’ Silver’s voice was saying. ‘Eight seven. Callback.’ With his right foot, he gently pressed down on the telephone line where it went into a wall fixing under the bedside table.
    One by one the small internal wires became disconnected under the pressure of his foot. Finally, the entire cable came free from the skirting-board and Silver pushed the frayed end quietly out of sight beneath the bed.
    ‘You got it, Langley!’ he said enthusiastically. ‘Here we go. Latitude 46.34944. Longitude 48.04917. Latitude 48.8047222. Longitude …’
    ‘Looks like we’re in good shape, Darius,’ said Felix. ‘Now for the airliner.’

17. Carmen’s Song
    The VC-10 levelled out at thirty thousand feet, somewhere east of Tehran, and continued on its smooth, level progress north, towards Kazakhstan in the southern Soviet Union. In any other circumstances, thought Bond, as he looked from his window down on to the Elburz mountains, it was a perfect day for flying. Holding the piece of glass in the tips of the fingers of his right hand, he continued the friction against the rope on his left wrist – gently and, with luck, imperceptibly. Thank goodness, he thought, for the space between the first-class seats. In economy, a small vibration would almost certainly have been relayed to the guard in the aisle seat to his left.
    Bond twisted his body towards the aisle,