Chapter 4
The Assignment
Jane Moneypenny glanced up from her desktop's monitor to regard the new arrival. Turning back to her desk, she pressed an intercom button set into a telephone. "M, Double-oh-seven is here." Releasing the button, she turned back to the arrival as he walked into the office. "James, where have you been? M had me call you well over an hour ago."
The intercom beeped. "Thank you, Miss Moneypenny," the female voice replied. "Just a moment."
Bond smiled at her as he hung his coat on the hooked stand. "Well, Moneypenny, I had some... business to take care of."
This elicited a raised eyebrow. "Let me guess, business at the gentlemen's club or the casino? Or is it some nubile, luscious, full-lipped 'business' from your recent trip to Poland?"
Bond feigned surprise, raising his own eyebrows and widening his eyes for a second at the playful accusation. "Moneypenny... how could you accuse me of such a thing?"
Moneypenny smiled. "With ease."
The intercom beeped. "Send him in."
Moneypenny stabbed the intercom button. "Of course. Right away." Moneypenny then gestured to the door. Bond gave an abbreviated bow before walking past her desk.
Bond entered the office to find Barbara Mawdsley seated at her desk. He knew the office well: wooden panelled walls; a wood and glass desk with a laptop, two lamps, two telephones, various printouts and manila folders and other office paraphernalia; a black bookshelf occupying a large portion of the wall behind the desk and set against the corner. A white leather couch sat at an angle from one corner, near a glass coffee table. A large window with vertical blinds occupied much of the wall. A bottle of Talisker whisky and a set of glasses sat behind M atop a low cabinet. To his left was a cabinet with another lamp atop it.
As an officer of the elite Double-Oh section of the SIS, Bond reported to and received mission briefs directly from the Chief of the SIS – M – or in her stead, the Chief of Staff or his deputy. This was due to the highly sensitive nature of missions tasked to Double-Oh operatives.
She acknowledged his presence with a nod. "Good afternoon, Double-oh-seven."
"Afternoon, M." Bond nodded and walked over to the desk. He took a seat in one of the two black leather chairs facing the desk.
M didn't bother to ask why Bond was late. "I take it you read the preliminary report from Poland?"
Bond nodded. An ABW officer had filed an interim report following the GROM raid on the arms deal in Warsaw. The Polish authorities had arrested some fourteen participants, after eight were killed in a firefight. The inventory, seized from three lorries, consisted of crates of assault rifles, grenades, and RPGs, as well as just under two kilos of cocaine in a briefcase, a plastic container of opium and – most disturbing – more than ten kilos of Semtex.
The ABW was already at work backtracking the arms to their source; the current investigation was leading to a crime ring operating on the border with Belarus, smuggling in weapons from old Soviet armouries.
"Eight dead, fourteen arrested or in hospital under police guard, and three lorries' worth of Soviet weapons. The ABW are already tracing the shipments back to Belarus, if I remember correctly."
M nodded. "We've sent over some officers to liaise with the ABW while the investigation continues. In the meantime, you've been retasked."
She handed Bond a sealed manila folder bearing a 'Classified' stamp. "The Atride Corporation. Are you familiar with them?"
Bond paused for a second to collect his thoughts. "An international security firm, if I'm not mistaken. They provide security services for large businesses and governments. Training and procuring equipment for security and police forces.
"They're suspected of taking part in or inciting antigovernment uprisings or coups in several Third World countries, however, by putting themselves in a position where they can provide material support for the police forces and militaries of one of the opposing factions and the newly installed governments that result. The previous company president was killed... several months ago, I believe, in Ulgia while negotiating with the government there.
"They're also suspected of being a front for illegal arms dealers." Bond glanced down at the unopened folder before looking back up at M. "Someone in Poland was affiliated with Atride." It was a statement, not a question.
M nodded. "We've been following Atride's activities for some time, now. It seems that the death of the former president, Hammond, and several senior members in Ulgia threw the company into a temporary state of disarray. Atride aren't without enemies, it would seem.
"It's believed that the assassin was hired by either presidential loyalists in the Ulgian government or someone from an ousted government that Atride helped to bring down. However, they've since recovered somewhat from this blow, although they've abandoned Ulgia... for now."
As she spoke, Bond opened the manila folder. It contained a dossier on the Atride Corporation, detailing its assets, previous and current activities, brief files on senior figures, and speculation on future developments by SIS analysts.
"Atride seems to have taken a step back in relation to security consulting over the past few months. Perhaps they're changing their focus; several Atride-affiliated staff have been taking part in money laundering for drug-smuggling operations. It would seem that they're also helping to facilitate smuggling across Europe. Do you remember that shipment of cocaine from Peru four days ago?"
Bond nodded. Customs had found packets of cocaine worth millions of pounds being smuggled in on a freighter from South America.
"That was Atride. The recipient of those drugs was a dummy corporation set up by an employee of Atride. We've already suspected that stocks of former Soviet weapons were being sold by Atride to their clients, and now we have Jacques Girard, a security consultant with Atride, arrested in Warsaw."
Bond looked up at M as she finished speaking. "And you want me to find out where this latest shipment was meant to be headed," Bond said. Again, it was a statement, not a question.
"Not exactly. Electronic communications intercepts suggest this consignment was meant for the People's Armed Alliance, a far-right antigovernment organisation in eastern France, but the money appears to have come from the Alexander Trading Company, a French importer of goods from eastern Europe. Not only that, the company's president, Davide Dubois, also has links to Atride."
"And you suspect he personally authorised the transaction?"
"Yes. Him, or someone in his inner circle. We're sifting through his electronic correspondence, but that could take some time. We want to know why exactly the Alexander Trading Company is financing this group, and the exact nature of its link to Atride. Atride has developed a network of contacts with illegal arms dealers, mercenaries, and less than savoury government officials, some of whom have suspected links to various terrorist organisations.
"What we want to know, is why would an importer be interested in financing terrorism?"
"That's the question of the day, isn't it?" Bond replied.
M nodded, handing over a second manila folder. "We've learned that Dubois will be attending an auction at Lamont-Vilain, in Paris tomorrow; apparently he's looking to acquire an antique book for a Marcus Lambert, a suspected junior member of the People's Armed Alliance. We want you to go to the auction, find Dubois and follow him if he wins the auction."
Bond nodded as he accepted the second folder. M leaned back in her chair, nodding at the folder in Bond's hands.
"More detailed files are in that dossier. Miss Moneypenny will have your travel and accommodation arrangements."