1959
Royale-Le-Eaux, France
The man sat at the bar, feeling his world fall all around him. For he had lost, something his ego never learned to deal with. The touch on his shoulder made him feel worse; made him begin to picture everyone he had failed. He shrugged it off angrily, without looking and growled,
"Christ, Vesper. Not now!"
Bond felt terrible. He looked down at the oak under his arms and didn't bare look, her felt her fragrant scent thing as she walked away, quiet as a ghost.
"Martini; and shake it."
As the bartender went ahead and prepared the drink, Bond wallowed in his own misery, failing to notice as a man sat on the bar next to him.
"You must be out of your damn mind, sending such a classy dame like that away."
The bartender placed the drink right in front of Bond, saying, "Your drink, messier."
Bond raised his head and picked up his drink then eagerly raised it to his lips and drank.
"The fact that you lost all that money is no damn excuse."
Bond looked aside, angered at the rude patron's comments.
"Excuse me, but unless I know you, you're bloody wrong to talk to me like that."
The patron was of his mid-to-late thirties, of average build and height, though that still made him much shorter than Bond. His hair was black and he had a drooping moustache. He wore a dark gray three-piece suit and spoke with an American accent, apparently hailing from Chicago.
"Night's young. I bet will be old Chinas by the night's end." Said the American as he took a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket's pocket and took one cigarette out, he lodged it between his teeth and lit it with zippo he had in his hand.
"Bartender, a glass of Vodka. Pure Vodka. Put the gentleman's charges on my check."
The American had spoke in perfect, unaccented French. Bond grew terribly suspicious of him, particularly with his use of the term 'Old Chinas', a slang-term for old friends unlikely to be heard outside of East London.
"You would be?"
"George Kaplan." Said the American as he extended his hand.
Bond shook the American's hand hesitantly. The man's grip was very strong, and incredibly cold.
"Arlington Beach."
"I know… That's got to be the worst pseudonym I had ever heard of. Heheh. And to think you boys gave us Tennyson and Kipling. Well, Mister Beach, I have to admit that it is a shame what happened."
"Shame? That doesn't begin to describe it."
"Yes, I imagine. I think you could have had him, old man. You could have won. Another hand… And you could have won, cleaned that shifty eye Le Chiffre out. Maybe you should give it another try."
"I'm out of money." Said Bond, "Though I'll still pay for my own drinks."
"You should keep playing, Mister Beach. Believe me."
Bond's suspicion was piqued.
"Who are you?"
"I'm your cousin." Said the American, "From Langley, Virginia."
The bartender handed Kaplan his drink and he quickly took a swallow.
"My god, that is excellent." Said Kaplan, "I know we're at war with the Reds, but that doesn't change the fact they make a fine drink. It has to be said, there's no pint in overreacting."
"What interest does the CIA have in this?" asked Bond.
"We know that MI6 has sent you out here to clean out at the big poker game, particularly you are interested in wiping out Le Chiffre. Le Chiffre is an agent of the KGB, funneling money for their foreign intelligence activities, but he's been investing some of his employers' money unwisely. He's lost and this is why he's here, he's trying to win the KGB's money back. You are here to toss the mother of all wrenches at that plan, so Le Chiffre has no chance but defect to England."
"And why are you here?"
"Case you screw the pooch." Said Kaplan as he swallowed the rest of his drink in one gulp, "Which, let's face it, you did."
"And what are you going to do?"
"It's already been done, son." Said Kaplan as he got up, placing several francs on the bar that covered his and Bond's charges and picking up his cigarettes, "You're back n the game, I bought you back in. I'll be in London in one week to have my turn at Le Chiffre, which you will allow since without Uncle Sam's help you would have directly funded the Reds to spy on us. Now go get 'em, tiger."
Now
London
"And then what happened?" asked Harmony as she lay in bed, her head resting against Bond's flank.
"Well, I won." Said Bond, raising his glass of Scotch to his lips.
"But that was my undoing. Vesper, my partner on that mission was working for the Russians; she collaborated with Le Chiffre into luring me away and trapping me. He tried to torture me into giving him back his money, but I didn't give in."
"Did it hurt?"
"Of course it bloody did, that's why people talk when it happens to them."
"What happened next?"
"Just about as he was going to kill me, an assassin burst in and took him out. Not our side, mind. He spared me, claiming that he had no orders to take me out and that he couldn't be bothered."
"They got away?"
"At the time, yes. But I defeated them all, sooner or later. As for the American, I never saw him again."
Bond finished off his drink and then placed it aside.
"I need to make a few calls." Said Bond as he gently pushed Harmony away from him and got out of bed, wrapping a robe around his bear body as he exited the room.
--
"Good evening, Felix." Said Bond as he held the cell phone to his ear.
"James, good hearing from you. The plain from Tokyo just landed; I'll be meeting with Suzuki in ten hours."
"Good." Said Bond, "Listen, Felix, we've been good friends for forty-six years, now, that's a lifetime. I've come to trust you like I trust myself."
"James, you don't need to explain. I know what's at stake here, I'm going to see the kid, make sure we have a rapport. I wouldn't let you down, Jim."
"I know you wouldn't. Goodbye, Felix."
--
Ten Hours Later
New York
Jeimuzu Suzuki was a man of his early forties, well built and tall, a little over six feet. His hair was slick and black and his eyes were a dim shade of green. He had a faded vertical scar on his left cheek that far from being grotesque, added to his charm and air of mystery.
With an ever present smile Suzuki sauntered to Leiter's side with a martini in his hand and the two of them stood upon the balcony outside Leiter's office on the top floor of the Kong Building. It wasn't really a balcony, it was more of an ample, roofless triangle at the corner of the building, it had a wide walkway between two triangular pools with no railing at all; one could fall very easily if one wasn't careful.
"Breathtaking, isn't it?" said Leiter, raising his glass of bourbon to his lips and taking a sip, "I swear, some sights you just never get used to."
"It is amazing." Said Suzuki with hint of amusement.
Leiter chuckled.
"I'm glad you think so. Some people, it gets too much for them. I'm glad you're not one of those people. You know Jeimuzu… Do you mind if I call you that?"
"Not at all."
"That's great, you can call me Felix. Jeimuzu, your predecessor was a great man, we all respected and honored him everyone, the director; most and foremost. I just want you to know that we wouldn't just give the job away to anyone. We're all counting on you, kid."
"I appreciate you trust, Felix, I truly do."
"Well, don't. You deserve it, with Project Phoenix already underway, we need the best man we can get. Anyway, in a year or so, you're going to be running the war in East Asia and you'll wonder why you signed up for this job. I want you savor these moments, Jeimuzu, for the dark times that lay ahead of us.
"Enough about that, tell me a little about yourself."
"You already know all there needs to be known."
"Not really, there's only so much intelligence can reveal."
"I assume this is about my parents." Said Suzuki with a sip of his drink and slight sigh.
"You know my mother was Kessy Suzuki, a secret service agent. I didn't have a father growing up, my mother claimed he was a civilian she had a brief relationship with before he died in a car crash. After her death I learned it was actually Tiger Tanaka, once head of the Japanese Secret Service. He was a married man, an important man. You know how these things are. Anyway, for all I know he never knew I was his son."
"I see. To tell you the truth, you will find many of us who will sympathize. I never knew my daddy either, the directors parents died young too. Hell, might as well call it the League of orphans."
"Felix, I sense there is something you want to tell me."
Leiter took a gulp of his own drink.
"We're well into the second year of project phoenix, and with each day, the reality of it grows more and more real. For this to work, for us to prevail, for mankind to emerge out of the war to come in an elevated state, we need to be sure as ever. Now, there is no one in the League that doesn't believe in what we're doing. However, there are those who can't help but exist simply to rock the boat.
"You doubtless realize that the League at times is not as united as we would like to believe, we have our share of rivalries. Don't get me wrong, a sense of competition is great, it's what makes nations like yours and mine the greatest on earth. But this rivalry, it cannot evolve into becoming an outright fued. There are unofficial sides, there's mine, Bond's a few others…"
"And there's Josephine." Said Suzuki calmly.
"My, we did pick the right man." Said Leiter with a smirk, "Exactly. Josephine is a very able woman; a great veteran of our organization. She is also prone to her feminine nature; she sometimes loose her sense of logic and she can have an inflated sense of her own importance at times. She has aligned a few of us with her, and as long as our side outnumbers her, everything will continue to run smoothly.
"I'm sorry to put you through this, but you have to pick a side. Normally, you would have your time. But these are not normal times. You have to choose one side or the other, being neutral is not an option."
"Mister Leiter… The Gotham Branch repeatedly contacted my office enquiring on when and if I would pay them a visit this week. I have so far made unenthused, half-hearted promises to see what I can do. At the moment I think I shall meet with her for less than two hours on two days. Does that answer your question?"
Leiter stared at Suzuki for a few long moments before he cracked a smile and said,
"I'm glad we're on the same page, but you don't want to piss her off. Seriously."
"I'll take that under advisement."
"Don't fuck around! Ha ha! Now, tell me, Jeimuzu, how's your backhand?"
Yes, we're back. I've got a few ideas that I'm eager to type, though I don't think I'll be doing it as regularly as I used to.
I will point out that the opening scene set in '59 is based upon Ian Fleming's Casino Royale, particularly the recent movie adaptation evident in Bond using the alias of Arlington Beach, since the Bond seen here is the one from the Connery and Lazenby movies, that means he and Leiter did not meet until '62 during the events of Dr. No. Leiter's stand-in is CIA Agent George Kaplan, who is in reality none other than Judas Priest as we have seen him use that alias previously.
Kissy Suzuki and Tiger Tanaka are from Moonraker.
Next Chapter: The Flatiron building sees some interesting tenants moving in.
R&R.