Bond Movies 07 - Die Another Day Read online




  01 - Surf’s Up

  A man could easily die out here.

  The thought passed through his head as he and his two companions fought the raging surf, desperately clinging to their boards.

  The full moon illuminated the distant coastline with an eerie, white glow that created phantoms out of the concrete pillboxes and radar dishes. The moonlight wasn’t adequate for their purposes but the night-vision goggles made up for the deficit. Through them he could actually see the barbed wire that fortified the beach. The sharp points glistened like stars dotting the landscape.

  The three men paddled the surfboards furiously in an attempt to catch a massive wave. They managed to get up but not for long. The huge wave quickly crashed over and wiped out two of the surfers. The one man who kept his balance found himself on top of what he estimated to be a sixty-footer. If he hadn’t been concentrating on the seriousness of the mission, he might have enjoyed it.

  Eventually the wave levelled out and the surfer glided elegantly across the dark, silvery water, effortlessly changing direction when he needed to and finally

  floating silently to the shallows. He dismounted and walked quickly up the sand.

  The surfer crouched in the shadows just as a sentry came around the bend. Painfully, he willed himself to slow his breathing so that the guard wouldn’t hear him.

  As expected, the sentry was dressed in the uniform of the North Korean army. He carried an AK-47 and probably had a handgun attached to a belt. The surfer watched as the sentry noticed the surfboard wash up on the sand. The guard stepped over to it, curious and surprised to find such an object on this isolated and closely watched beach.

  The surfer made his. move. Like a jungle cat, he sprang out of his hiding place, lightly ran the few feet across the sand and struck the sentry from behind. The guard collapsed beside the board.

  James Bond removed the night-vision goggles and looked up and down the beach. There was no sign of anyone else. He scanned the surf and finally saw his two wet-suited colleagues struggle onto the beach. They ran over to him and removed their own goggles. His enigmatic companions nodded to him. They too were breathless and needed to gather their strength for the challenges ahead.

  Bond squatted by the surfboard and took hold of the fin. With a click, he twisted it and a compartment slid out of the edge of the board with a satisfying rasp. Inside was everything he needed: his Walther P99 and several magazines of ammunition, nylon rope, a tray of C4 plastic explosive and a combat knife with a Global Positioning System device built into its handle.

  He stood and surveyed the beach again. The radar dish on the dunes behind them would suit their very precise needs. The two surfers read his mind and ran up the beach towards it as Bond unzipped his wet suit. He pulled it off, revealing a smart Brioni suit. The shoes were hidden in the surfboard. By the time he was dressed for the role he was about to play, the two Koreans from the South who had ridden the waves beside him had also shed their wet suits, revealing North Korean army uniforms.

  The mission to Pukch’ong beach was extremely dangerous. Everyone knew it. Even M had given Bond a chance to let someone else do it, but 007 had looked back at her with fearless self-assurance. The risks and the high stakes of a meticulously planned - and brilliantly executed - military raid remained Bond’s first love. There was no question but that he would go through with it. As for the two South Koreans, they shared Bond’s grim purpose and dedication to the job at hand. Don and Lee. Bond didn’t know their last names and didn’t want to know. They seemed capable enough, but it was always a good idea not to become too friendly with fellow operatives. You never knew when someone might not return.

  Don used his blade to sever a power cable attached to the radar dish, while Lee took Bond’s combat knife and thrust it into the ground. The handle automatically split open to form a small dish - the GPS beacon device that was one of Q Branch’s more ingenious inventions. Within seconds, they could hear a faintly audible signal.

  Some sixty miles away, a Russian-made Kamov Ka-26 Hoodlum helicopter flew over the dense forest that made up much of the North Korean peninsula. The North Korean army pilot noticed that a new indicator had lit up on the beacon interrogator screen that pulsed in front of him. The flight system recalibrated to direct the helicopter towards the new landing zone. The pilot made a slight adjustment in his heading, then turned to look back at his passenger.

  The man had been clutching a briefcase to his chest ever since he had boarded the chopper. He seemed to be extremely nervous.

  The pilot turned back, chuckling to himself. Westerners were either cowards or idiots and this one seemed to be both.

  As the Hoodlum made a subtle change in direction, a sliver of sun peered over the horizon and broke the night sky into thousands of warm colours.

  Ten minutes later, James Bond and his two companions heard the approaching helicopter. The Koreans took their positions on the sand and stood to attention as the Hoodlum appeared over the hills behind the beach, circled and hovered tentatively. The pilot was naturally cautious as the landing zone differed from the original plan. Finally, the helicopter gently descended and set down on the sand. The rotors slowed as the pilot unbuckled his seat belt, opened the door and hopped out. He looked over at the two soldiers. They saluted. The pilot half-heartedly returned the salute and then turned to help the passenger out. The man was still clutching the case as if it held his life support system.

  When the new arrivals turned back around, they saw that the two Korean soldiers had drawn their weapons and a third man had joined them. James Bond stood between them, Walther in hand and a pleasant grin on his face. The man holding the case was surprised, for he thought he was looking into a mirror. He was dressed in exactly the same style of suit as Bond. The pilot and passenger slowly raised their hands.

  Bond stepped forward and took the passenger’s briefcase. The two Koreans worked quickly. They tied and gagged the pilot and passenger and marched them over behind the radar dish. Another few loops of the ropes secured the two prisoners safely out of sight ensuring that they wouldn’t be discovered for several hours. Too late.

  Bond and the two Koreans boarded the Hoodlum and buckled in. Don sat at the controls, made some adjustments then guided the chopper into the air.

  Bond set the case on his lap and opened it. It was full of sparkling, dazzling diamonds. Lee glanced over at it and couldn’t help but gasp in awe. Bond removed the C4 from a packet and carefully pressed the substance under the bottom lining in the case. The detonator was the size of a cigarette and this he plunged into the explosive. The remote was next, which he wired to the detonator. He then activated a switch on the edge of his Omega wristwatch. The remote beeped.

  Bond looked at Lee, who nodded. Bond shut the case, settled back for the ride south to Colonel Moon’s compound and reflected on what he was about to do.

  North Korea was arguably the most dangerous place on earth for a captured spy. The Democratic People’s Republic of Korea refused to allow even genuine journalists into the country, much less anyone who could possibly be an agent of either South Korea or the despised countries of the West. Intelligence service lore was filled with horrific yet hauntingly unsubstantiated tales of what happened to agents caught north of the 38th Parallel. Bond and his companions could certainly expect torture followed by death if they were unmasked.

  Increasingly isolated from even the Communist world, North Korea was a mysterious land about which reliable intelligence was sparse. A bitter civil war ended with the peninsula’s division into two hostile parts half a century ago and for decades Kim Il Sung ruled North Korea unopposed. Now there were rumours of mass famine, of rival factions vying for power;
rumours that Kim Jong II, the country’s current leader, was a mere puppet controlled by a secret cabal of generals. Foreign intelligence sources were convinced that the DPRK was developing nuclear, biological and chemical weapons. North Korea refused steadfastly to allow inspectors into the country to confirm or refute these allegations. Even her staunchest allies, the Chinese, had begun to treat North Korea with suspicion.

  Tensions around the Demilitarized Zone north of the 38th parallel remained as high as they were at the end of the Korean War: to this day, North Koreans call that conflict the ‘Fatherland Liberation War’. According to their history books, South Korea, aided by the Americans and British Commonwealth countries, had attacked the peaceful North Koreans who repelled them with sticks and rocks, driving them back into the southern part of the Korean peninsula from which they might at any-moment launch a new attack on the northern ‘socialist paradise’.

  Two South Korean agents had lost their lives unearthing the valuable information on a young hardliner by the name of Moon who had created a loyal semi-private army that supported his aggressive stance against South Korea and the West. It was believed that Moon was financing his operations with the sale of illegal diamonds from the warring nations in Africa - so-called ‘conflict diamonds’. Colonel Moon was considered to be highly dangerous, perhaps the most corrupt and volatile man in the North Korean army. He was a rogue element who could start a war overnight. It had become inescapable logic that he had to be eliminated. This situation was made complicated and more delicate by the fact that Moon was the son of one of the army’s more moderate generals; a man with good intentions with regard to a unified Korea.

  It had been a rough night. Once the requisite intelligence regarding the exchange of diamonds had been received, Bond and his two South Korean cohorts had only had three hours to launch the mission. Bond had been in a holding pattern in South Korea for over a week waiting for the green light. Finally, just after 02.00 in the morning, the word came through. Van Bierk, the diamond trader, was on his way to meet Moon. As Van Bierk was white, had dark hair and blue eyes and was roughly Bond’s size, M had made 007 the prime candidate for the job. Don and Lee had been recruited from South Korea’s elite Special Forces unit - officially off the record - that specialised in counterterrorism and clandestine military activity. The three men had been flown with their gear at low altitude in an army helicopter from Yanggu, over Tongjoson Bay, to a point three miles offshore from Pukch’ong’s nearby beach. They were dropped into the choppy water with their surfboards and now they were ready to execute the second phase of the mission.

  The sweat rolled off Colonel Tan-Gun Moon’s bare torso as he struck the punchbag repeatedly. It hung heavily from the ceiling in the makeshift gym, sparsely decorated in typical Korean style. Colonel Moon liked to begin each day with a strenuous workout. He was extremely fit and he intended to stay that way. The future leader of a united Korea needed to be a strong and powerful man. At twenty-seven years of age and the handsome son of a respected army general, Moon believed it to be his destiny to rule his country.

  An officer stood nearby, watching Moon pummel the punchbag until the colonel had finished and turned away.

  ‘Let him out,’ he ordered the officer in his native tongue.

  The officer stepped forward and unzipped the punchbag. An unconscious man, bruised and bloody, spilled out onto the floor.

  Moon looked back at the pile of flesh and said, ‘That will teach you to lecture me.’ The slow sound of a helicopter making its descent caught Moon’s attention. He grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat from his body before putting on his military tunic. He then reached for his colonel’s hat, which sat on a bronze bust of his head. Moon motioned to the officer, who bent down to drag the beaten man away.

  ‘Find me a new anger therapist!’ Moon barked, then he went out of the room in the opposite direction.

  The compound was located on a hill overlooking the Demilitarized Zone on the north side of the 38th Parallel. Moon liked to call it a villa, even though it was really a glorified bunker, a border gunpost that was the lair of a true warlord. The walls were made of solid concrete, fortified with pillboxes and barbed wire. Sentries lined every visible portion that faced the south. They were always ready for any possible attack, however unlikely. The Demilitarized Zone was a no man’s land full of mines, booby-traps, death and destruction. Only a fool would dare to venture into it.

  Colonel Moon’s compound wasn’t large but it was certainly unique. Just beyond the fortified walls was a courtyard with enough space for a helipad and several military vehicles. At one side of the courtyard was a collection of half a dozen luxury sports cars, including a Jaguar XKR, a Ferrari and a Lamborghini.

  As the Hoodlum helicopter descended into the courtyard, a man dressed unobtrusively in civilian clothes stood aside and waited. Many of the soldiers stationed at the bunker called him ‘the Man Who Never Smiles’, but not to his face. Indeed, this man, who seemed to follow the colonel everywhere, was a mysterious cipher who maintained a deadpan expression at all times. Even now, as he watched the helicopter land, his eyes betrayed no emotion.

  James Bond opened the door of the helicopter and stepped onto the tarmac. The briefcase was in his hand.

  The civilian surreptitiously aimed a small Sony Ericsson PDA at him, capturing his image with a built-in CMOS camera. The man pressed a button and the word ‘SEND’ flashed over Bond’s picture on j the tiny screen.

  As Bond looked over and saw him, the man pocketed the PDA and walked forward.

  ‘I am Zao,’ he said in English. ‘You are late.’

  ‘I had to tie up a few loose ends,’ Bond said.

  Zao turned to the back of the courtyard just as Colonel Moon, now dressed in full military uniform, emerged. His eyes never left Bond’s face as he walked towards him. As he passed his retinue of guards and soldiers each man visibly cowered.

  ‘Mister Van Bierk,’ he said in fluent, cultured English. ‘I’ve been looking forward to this meeting.’ [

  ‘Me too,’ Bond replied, offering his hand. Moon ignored it. ‘My, uhm, African military friends owe you many thanks. Few men have the guts to trade African conflict diamonds since the UN embargo.’

  Colonel Moon gave a thin, sour smile. ‘I know all about the UN. I studied at Oxford and Harvard. I majored in Western hypocrisy.’

  Bond raised his eyebrows and gestured. ‘From your modest little car collection, I’d never have guessed.’ Moon snapped, ‘Show me the diamonds.’

  ‘Show me the weapons.’ There was no mistaking the obdurance behind these words.

  The colonel studied Bond. Few men had ever shown such toughness with him. None dared do so now. Moon immediately knew that he had met a hard man of unusual strength and determination. He looked at Zao and nodded curtly. Zao spoke into a walkie-talkie and immediately the distant roar of engines attracted Bond’s attention to the Demilitarized Zone.

  A concrete block at the gate began to rise and Bond could see lights swimming in the clouds of dust, growing larger, coming closer.

  Trucks? Impossible! Bond thought.

  ‘Hiding weapons in the Demilitarized Zone?’ he asked Moon. ‘Very stylish, Colonel. That’s a bit of a minefield out there.’

  Moon replied sardonically, ‘America’s cultural contribution to our country. One million landmines.’ .Moon’s voice could not conceal his pride, as he declared ‘And my hovercraft float right over them.’ Bond turned back to look through the gates. The man was right. The vehicles were indeed hovercraft. One was a huge military carrier, a mothership that was a magnificent piece of machinery. Four smaller hovercraft accompanied it, gliding like wraiths over the vast, mine-pitted wasteland bordered by skull-and-crossbones signs. Hovercraft have the ability to fly a few inches off the ground on a cushion of air and are lifted by the thrust of fans ducted through double skin hulls. The lift air is contained under the craft by flexible segmented skirts that keep the air cushion pressure up. Bond knew that hovercraft do
not set off mines over which they travel because they produce virtually no acoustic, magnetic or pressure signatures.

  The mothership flew into the compound, slowed and settled to the ground. The four smaller hovercraft came to rest alongside it, two on each side. Bond could see that the larger ship was bristling with an abundance of weaponry and materiel: machine guns, ammunition, mortars, flame-throwers, land mines, bulletproof vests and a variety of small arms. Deep drawers slid out of the flanks, revealing even more weapons inside.

  ‘RPGs, flame-throwers, automatic weapons and enough ammunition to run a small war,’ Moon said proudly. Then he smiled for the first time. ‘The diamonds?’

  Bond presented the case to him. Moon took it and handed it to a bespectacled man standing behind him. The man opened it and showed the sparkling interior to Moon.

  ‘Don’t blow it all at once,’ Bond said.

  ‘Oh, I have special plans for this consignment,’ Moon replied.

  The bespectacled man took the case to a table, pulled out an eyepiece and began to examine the loot. Bond was disappointed that Moon didn’t take the explosives-laden case himself, but he was careful not to show it.

  A mobile phone rang. The man called Zao reached into his pocket and answered it. He slipped on an earpiece, then took out the PDA camera. A large red ‘X’ blinked over Bond’s image.

  Bond sensed that something was terribly wrong. When Zao looked up at him with narrow, lizard-like eyes, he was sure of it.

  Zao approached the colonel and whispered in his ear.

  Moon smiled again and addressed Bond, ‘Let me show you our new Tank Buster.’

  He reached over the side of the mothership and grabbed a heavy combination grenade launcher/machine gun.

  ‘Depleted uranium shells, naturally,’ he said.

  ‘Naturally,’ Bond said, slightly uneasy.

  Moon considered his choice of targets within the terrain. Then, without warning, he swung it around and pointed it at the Hoodlum helicopter, where Don and Lee still sat. Before Bond could react, Moon let rip. A massive grenade shot through the chopper and it exploded with a deafening blast.