The James Bond Anthology полностью

‘Why not? Everything depends on it.’

‘Mr Bond.’ Goldfinger’s eyes had a faraway, withdrawn look. ‘I will tell you the truth because you will have no opportunity of passing it on. From now, Oddjob will not be more than a yard from your side and his orders will be strict and exact. So I can tell you that the entire population of Fort Knox will be dead or incapacitated by midnight on D – 1. The substance that will be inserted in the water supply, outside the filter plant, will be a highly concentrated form of GB.’

‘You’re mad! You don’t really mean you’re going to kill sixty thousand people!’

‘Why not? American motorists do it every two years.’

Bond stared into Goldfinger’s face in fascinated horror. It couldn’t be true! He couldn’t mean it! He said tensely, ‘What’s this GB?’

‘GB is the most powerful of the Trilone group of nerve poisons. It was perfected by the Wehrmacht in 1943, but never used for fear of reprisals. In fact, it is a more effective instrument of destruction than the hydrogen bomb. Its disadvantage lies in the difficulty of applying it to the populace. The Russians captured the entire German stocks at Dyhernfurth on the Polish frontier. Friends of mine were able to supply me with the necessary quantities. Introduction through the water supply is an ideal method of applying it to a densely populated area.’

Bond said, ‘Goldfinger, you’re a lousy, — bastard.’

‘Don’t be childish. We have work to do.’

Later, when they had got to the problem of transporting the tons of gold out of the town, Bond had had one last try. He said, ‘Goldfinger, you’re not going to get this stuff away. Nobody’s going to get their hundred tons of gold out of the place – let alone five hundred. You’ll find yourself tearing down the Dixie Highway in a truck with a few gold bars loaded with gamma rays and the American Army on your tail. And you’ll have killed sixty thousand people for that? The thing’s farcical. Even if you do get a ton or two away, where the hell do you think you’re going to hide it?’

‘Mr Bond.’ Goldfinger’s patience was infinite. ‘It just happens that a Soviet cruiser of the Sverdlovsk class will be visiting Norfolk, Virginia, on a goodwill cruise at that time. It sails from Norfolk on D + 1. Initially by train and then by transporter convoy, my gold will arrive on board the cruiser by midnight on D-Day. I shall sail in the cruiser for Kronstadt. Everything has been carefully planned, every possible hitch has been foreseen. I have lived with this operation for five years. Now the time has come for the performance. I have tidied up my activities in England and Europe. Such small debris as remains of my former life can go to the scavengers who will shortly be sniffing on my trail. I shall be gone. I shall have emigrated and, Mr Bond, I shall have taken the golden heart of America with me. Naturally’ – Goldfinger was indulgent – ‘this unique performance will not be immaculate. There has not been enough time for rehearsals. I need these clumsy gangsters with their guns and their men, but I could not bring them into the plan until the last moment. They will make mistakes. Conceivably they will have much trouble getting their own loot away. Some will be caught, others killed. I couldn’t care less. These men are amateurs who were needed, so to speak, for the crowd scenes. They are extras, Mr Bond, brought in off the streets. What happens to them after the play is of no interest to me whatsoever. And now, on with the work. I shall need seven copies of all this by nightfall. Where were we ...?’

So in fact, reflected Bond feverishly, this was not only a Goldfinger operation with smersh in the background. smersh had even got the High Praesidium to play. This was Russia versus America with Goldfinger as the spearhead! Was it an act of war to steal something from another country? But who would know that Russia had the gold? No one, if the plan went off as Goldfinger intended. None of the gangsters had an inkling. To them Goldfinger was just another of them, another gangster, slightly larger than life-size. And Goldfinger’s staff, his drivers for the golden convoy to the coast? Bond himself, and Tilly Masterton? Some would be killed, including him and the girl. Some, the Koreans for instance, would no doubt sail in the cruiser. Not a trace would be left, not a witness. It was modern piracy with all the old-time trimmings. Goldfinger was sacking Fort Knox as Bloody Morgan had sacked Panama. There was no difference except that the weapons and the techniques had been brought up to date.

And there was only one man in the whole world who could stop it. But how?