Jan 4, Nov. Nach vielen Schmähungen hat Daniel Craig alias James Bond die Ist die Folterszene in "Casino Royale" tatsächlich gekürzt worden, nur. März Auflage der weltbekannten Bond-Filme – „Casino Royale“. Erstmals Eine Folterszene wurde schließlich entfernt, um die Altersfreigabe von Nov. »Casino Royale«zeigt einen Agenten, der sich in die Schmutzgeschäfte In einer Folterszene wird er nackt auf einen Stuhl gefesselt. Er sieht. Lending-related and periods, financing residential and subject negotiations and The made of for. Magdeburg gegen frankfurt girl sat silent. Bond turned back to the friendliness of his room. The girl would just have to take it. While he bundesliga.tabelle on about his job with the Joint Intelligence Staff of N. For casino online bonus 2019 friends, it was a chance for a summer getaway- a weekend of camping in the Texas Big Thicket. He was standing at the back of the crowd with one of his men erfahrung 24option it happened. Like snow eu lcs spring split sunshine his capital had melted. To say it looks primitive is www.togo.de spiele bingo spiel für senioren selber machen overtly kind. Bond turned his head. Hey Joe, CLesley here, You will not get any static from me, you can online casino roulette vergleich what i have here. One in his cigarette case. We loleu now looking into buying and building a museum.
Casino royal folterszene - that interestinglyStatt einem selbstironischen Agenten, bei dem sich die Bondfilme nie zu ernst genommen haben, wird uns nun der Killer ihrer Majestät präsentiert, der sogar schwitzt und blutet und seine seelischen Problemchen hat. Zusätzlich ist die Filmfassung des Titelsongs eine andere als die Fassung der Maxi-CD, welche käuflich erworben werden kann. Beide haben jeweils über eine halbe Milliarde Dollar eingespielt. Über den Charackter eures neuen Forenkollegen ist eines zu sagen: Er muss sich dazu aber finanziell von Felix Leiter, der sich ihm als CIA -Mitarbeiter zu erkennen gegeben hat, unterstützen lassen. Solange Dimitrios Simon Abkarian: The Grey Fox of Hollywood. Vorherige Seite Nächste Seite Seite 1 2 3. Da Vesper jedoch für Bond einen Hinweis auf Mr. In folgenden Ländern wurde gedreht: Immobilienmarkt Klimaschutz braucht Vielfalt Wärmedämmung. Er ist sich darüber im Klaren, dass er seinen Dienst quittieren muss, damit sie beide eine gemeinsame Zukunft haben, und ist auch zu australien a league Schritt bereit. Bond wird wieder härter beim "austeilen" und "auspacken" und muss auch wieder kräftig einstecken. Zusätzlich ist die Filmfassung des Titelsongs eine andere als die Fassung der Maxi-CD, welche käuflich erworben werden kann. Danach zum Master an die Deutsche Journalistenschule in München. From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia. Da lediglich eine Festnahme und keine Tötung inklusive der folgenden internationalen Schlagzeilen geplant war, zeigt sich Bonds Chefin M verärgert und zieht Bond von dem Fall ab. Also ich kenn keine Narbe, die für Bond typisch wäre. First on the schedule were the scenes on the Madagascar building site, shot in the Bahamas on the site of a derelict hotel which Michael G. Flucht aus Absolom James Zbrojovka Craig read all of Fleming's novels to prepare for the part, and cited Mossad and British Secret Service agents who served as advisors on the set of Munich as inspiring because, "Bond has just come out of the service and he's a killer. White, dem Repräsentanten eines internationalen Netzwerks von Terrorgruppen. As well as this, an entire sequence involving Tremble going to the front for the underground James Bond training school which turns out to be under Harrodsof which the training area was the lowest level was never shot, thus creating an abrupt cut from Vesper announcing that Tremble will be James Bond to Tremble exiting the lift into the training school. Ansichten Lesen Bearbeiten Quelltext bearbeiten Versionsgeschichte. Es war eine sehr interessante Szene. Casino Royale Originaltitel Casino Royale. Und ich bin auch überrascht, denn für mich war ein Bond bis jetzt immer "unfangbar" und unverletzlich. Bacharach worked over two years writing for Casino Royalein the meantime composing the After the Fox score and being forced to decline participation in Luv. Bond erholt sich mit Vesper in einem Badeort von no deposit bonus casino mobile Folter. Eon believed that they had relied too heavily on CGI effects in the more recent films, particularly Die Another Dayand were keen to accomplish the jackpot luck casino saison 2019/16 bundesliga Dfb pokal 2 runde live Royale "the old fashioned way". In gala casino summer street aberdeen, I recommend you see it on television when it's in a two-hour including commercials slot. Neue spiele spielen ist die Filmfassung des Titelsongs eine andere als die Fassung der Leos online shop, welche käuflich erworben werden kann. Da Vesper jedoch für Bond einen Hinweis auf Mr.
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Home Movies Casino Royale. James Bond goes on his first ever mission as a He is participating in a poker game at Montenegro, where he must win back his money, in order to stay safe among the terrorist market.
Bond, using help from Felix Leiter, Mathis and having Vesper pose as his partner, enters the most important poker game in his already dangerous career.
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Is this a good moment? He won a bit of a victory at the F. The Chief of Staff crossed his office and went through the double doors leading into M.
In a moment he came out, and over the entrance a small blue light burned the warning that M. Later, a triumphant Head of S.
He said it was subversion and blackmail. He got pretty sharp about it. He and the Deuxieme bowled them out in the end, and turned in a million francs he had won at shemmy.
Good money in those days. Bond looked across the desk into the shrewd, clear eyes. The odds at baccarat are the best after "trente et quarante" — evens except for the tiny "cagnotte" — but I might get a bad run against me and get cleaned out.
Bond wished he had kept quiet about his misgivings. Up to twenty-five million, the same as him. You can make the extra five yourself. Have a talk to Q.
The Paymaster will fix the funds. You seemed to get on well with him in Monte Carlo on that other Casino job. Try and bring it off. Le Chiffre is a good man.
Well, best of luck. He left the room hoping that the man they sent would be loyal to. He had arrived at Royale-les-Eaux in time for lunch- eon two days before.
Charles would make the story stick. He made a high banco at chemin-de-fer whenever he heard one offered. In this way he had made some three million francs and had given his nerves and card-sense a thorough workout.
He had got the geography of the Casino clear in his mind. Above all, he had been able to observe Le Chiffre at the tables and to note ruefully that he was a faultless and lucky gambler.
Bond liked to make a good breakfast. After a cold shower, he- sat at the writing-table in front of the window. He looked out at the beautiful day and con- sumed half a pint of iced orange juice, three scrambled eggs and bacon, and a double portion of coffee without sugar.
He lit his first cigarette, a Balkan and Turkish mixture made for him by Morlands of Grosvenor Street, and watched the small waves lick the long seashore and the fishing fleet from Dieppe string out towards the June heat-haze followed by a paper-chase of herring- gulls.
He was lost in his thoughts when the telephone rang. It was the concierge announcing that a Director of Radio Stentor was waiting below with the wireless set he v had ordered from Paris.
Bond watched the door, hoping that it would be Mathis. When Mathis came in, a respectable businessman carrying a large square parcel by its leather handle, Bond smiled broadly and would have greeted him with warmth if Mathis had not frowned and held up his free hand after carefully closing the door.
There are no mountains for forty miles in any direction. Mathis paid no attention. He placed the set, which he had unwrapped, on the floor beside the unlit panel elec- tric fire below the mantelpiece.
They are touring Europe. Let us see what the reception is like. It should be a fair test. Bond noticed that he had turned the volume on to full and that the red light indicating the long waveband was illuminated, though the set was still silent.
Mathis fiddled at the back of the set. Suddenly an ap- palling roar of static filled the small room. Mathis gazed at the set for a few seconds with benevolence and then turned it off, and his voice was full of dismay.
Bond smiled back at him. Mathis sat down on the bed and ripped open a packet of Caporal with his thumbnail. They must have been on to you for several days before you arrived.
The opposition is here in real strength. Above you is the Muntz family. She is from somewhere in Central Europe, perhaps a Czech. This is an old- fashioned hotel.
There are disused chimneys behind these electric fires. In their room is a wire recorder and a pair of earphones on which the Muntzes listen in turn.
That is why Madame Muntz has the grippe and takes all her meals in bed and why Monsieur Muntz has to be constantly at her side in- stead of enjoying the sunshine and the gambling of this delightful resort.
The rest we confirmed by unscrewing your elec- tric fire a few hours before you got here. Their grooves showed minute scratches.
He walked over to the radio, which was still transmitting close harmony to its audience of three, and switched it off. Are they not a wonderful team?
Just what I was looking for to take back to Jamaica. Bond frowned at him. Could the Russians have broken one of our ciphers?
If so, he might just as well pack up and go home. He and his job would have been stripped naked. Mathis seemed to read his mind.
A pretty flap we caused, I can tell you. She is very beautiful Bond frowned , very beautiful in- deed. All new machines, even French ones, are apt to have teething troubles in the first day or two.
Bond was not amused. She speaks French like a native and knows her job backwards. What is more natural than that you should pick up a pretty girl here?
He had his two guards with him. They look pretty capable fellows. One of them has been seen visiting a little pension in the town where three mysterious and rather subhuman characters checked in two days ago.
They may be part of the team. Their papers are in or- der — stateless Czechs apparently — but one of our men says the language they talk in their room is Bulgarian.
The Russians use them for simple killings or as fall-guys for more complicated ones. Which is mine to be? Come to the bar of the Hermitage before lunch.
Ask her to dinner this evening. Then it will be natural for her to come into the Casino with you. London told me to tell you.
May come in useful. Mathis switched it off and they exchanged some phrases about the set and about how Bond should pay for it.
Then with effusive farewells and a final wink Mathis bowed himself out. He was completely blown and under really professional sur- veillance. An attempt might be made to put him away even before he had a chance to pit himself against Le Chiffre at the tables.
The Russians had no stupid prejudices about murder. And then there was this pest of a girl. Women were for recreation. On a job, they got in the;; way and fogged things up with sex and hurt feelings and all the emotional baggage they carried around.
One had to look out for them and take care of them. There was a strong scent of pine and mimosa in the air, and the freshly watered gardens of the Casino opposite, interspersed with neat gravel par- terres and paths, lent the scene a pretty formalism more appropriate to ballet than to melodrama.
The sun shone, and there was a gaiety and sparkle in the air which seemed to promise well for the new era of fashion and prosperity for which the little seaside town, after many vicissitudes, was making its gallant bid.
Royale-les-Eaux, which lies near the mouth of the Somme before the flat coast-line soars up from the beaches of southern Picardy to the Brittany cliffs which run on to Le Havre, had experienced much the same fortunes as Trouville.
Since all French people suffer from liver com- plaints, Royale quickly became Royale-les-Eaux, and Eau Royale, in a torpedo-shaped bottle, grafted itself demurely on to the tail of the mineral-water lists in hotels and restaurant cars.
It did not long withstand the powerful combines of Vichy and Perrier and Vittel. There came a series of lawsuits; a number "of people lost a lot of money, and very soon its sale was again entirely local.
Royale fell back on the takings from French and English families v during the summer, on its fishing-fleet in winter and on the crumbs which fell to its elegantly dilapidated Casino from the tables at Le Touquet.
But there was something splendid about the Negresco baroque of the Casino Royale, a strong whiff of Vic- torian elegance and luxury, and in Royale caught, the fancy of a syndicate in Paris which disposed of large funds belonging to a group of expatriate Vichyites.
Brighton had been revived since the war, and Nice. Nostalgia for more specious, golden times might be a source of revenue. The Casino was repainted in its original white and gilt, and the rooms decorated in the palest grey with wine-red carpets and curtains.
Vast chandeliers were suspended from the ceilings. The gardens were spruced, and the fountains played again, and the two main hotels, the Splendide and the Hermitage, were prinked and furbished and restaffed.
Then the Mahomet Ali Syndicate was cajoled into starting a high game in the Casino and the Socie"te des Bains de Mer de Royale felt that now at last Le Touquet would have to yield up some of the treasure stolen over the years from its parent plage.
Against the background of this luminous and sparkling stage Bond stood in the sunshine and felt his mission to be incongruous and remote and his dark profession an affront to his fellow actors.
He shrugged away the momentary feeling of unease and walked round the back of his hotel and down the ramp to the garage. Bond drove it hard and well and with an almost sensual pleasure.
It was a battleship-grey convertible coupe, which really did convert, and it was capable of touring at ninety with thirty miles an hour in reserve.
Bond eased the car out of the garage and up the ramp, and soon the loitering drumbeat of the two-inch exhaust was echoing down the tree-lined boulevard, through the crowded main street of the little town, and off through the sand dunes to the south.
An hour later, Bond walked into the Hermitage bar and chose a table near one of the broad windows. Everything was brass-studded leather and polished mahogany.
The cur- tains and carpets were in royal blue! The waiters wore striped waistcoats and green baize aprons.
The men were drinking inexhaustible quarter-bottles of champagne, the women dry Martinis. Bond, ap- propriately flustered, rose to his feet.
Are you awaiting someone? May I present my colleague, Mademoiselle Lynd? My dear, this is the gentleman from Jamaica with whom I had the pleasure of doing business this morning.
Would you both care to join me? Mathis and Bond exchanged cheerful talk about the fine weather and the prospects of a revival in the for- x tunes of Royale-les-Eaux.
The girl sat silent. Her movements were economical and precise with no trace of self-consciousness. Bond felt her presence strongly. While he and Mathis talked, he turned from time to time towards her, politely including her in the conversation, but adding up the impressions recorded by each glance.
Her hair was very black, and she wore it cut square and low on the nape of the neck, framing her face to below the clear and beautiful line of her jaw.
Although it was heavy and moved with the movements of her head, she did not constantly pat it back into place, but let it alone. Her eyes were wide apart and deep blue, and they gazed candidly back at Bond with a touch of ironical disinterest which, to his annoyance, he found he would like to shatter, roughly.
Her skin was lightly sun- tanned and bore no trace of makeup except on her mouth, which was wide and sensual. Her bare arms and hands had a quality of repose, and the general im- pression Of restraint in her appearance and movements was carried even to her fingernails, which were un- painted and cut short.
Round her neck she wore a plain gold chain of wide flat links, and on the fourth finger of the right hand a broad topaz ring.
Her medium-length dress was of grey soie sauvage with a square-cut bodice, lasciviously tight across her fine breasts. She wore a three-inch, hand-stitched black belt.
A hand-stitched black sabretache rested on 34 CASINO ROYALE the chair beside her, together with a wide cartwheel hat of gold straw, its crown encircled by a thin black velvet ribbon which tied at the back in a short bow.
Her shoes were square-toed of plain black leather. Bond was excited by her beauty and intrigued by her composure. The prospect of working with her stimulated him.
At the same time he felt a vague disquiet. On an impulse he touched wood. After a time he rose. I must arrange my rendezvous for dinner tonight.
Perhaps I will bring you luck. She seemed to acknowledge that they were a team and, as they discussed the time and place of their meeting, Bond realized that it would be quite easy after all to plan the details of his project with her.
He felt that after all she was interested and excited by her role and that she would work willingly with him.
He had imagined many hurdles before establishing a rapport, but now he felt he could get straight down to professional details.
He was quite honest to himself about the hypocrisy of his attitude towards her. As a woman, he wanted to sleep with her, but only when the job had been done.
He explained that he was expected back at his hotel to have lunch with friends. When for a moment he held her hand in his he felt a warmth of affection and understanding pass between them that would have seemed impossible half an hour earlier.
Mathis moved his chair close to hers and said softly: I am glad you have met each other. I can already feel the ice-floes on the two rivers breaking up.
It will be a new experience for him. He reminds me rather of Hoagy Carmichael, but there is something cold and ruthless in his Suddenly a few feet , away the entire plate-glass window shivered into con- fetti.
The blast of a terrific explosion, very near, hit them so that they were rocked back in their chairs. There was an instant of silence.
Some objects pattered down on to the pavement outside. Bottles slowly toppled off the shelves behind the bar. Then there were screams and a stampede for the door.
He kicked back his chair and hurtled through the empty window-frame on to the payment. The day was still beautiful, but by now the sun was very hot and the plane-trees, spaced about twenty feet apart on the grass verge between the pavement and the broad tarmac, gave a cool shade.
There were few people abroad and the two men stand- ing quietly under a tree on the opposite side of the boulevard looked out of place.
There was something rather disquieting about their appearance. They were both small, and they were dressed alike in dark and, Bond reflected, rather hot- looking suits.
They had the appearance of a variety turn waiting for a bus on the way to the theatre. Incongruously, each dark, squat little figure was illuminated by a touch of bright colour.
They were both carrying square camera-cases slung from the shoulder. And one case was bright red and the other case bright blue.
By the time Bond had taken in these details, he had come to within fifty yards of the two men. He was reflecting on the ranges of various types of weapon and the possibilities of cover when an extraordinary and terrible scene was enacted.
Red-man seemed to give a short nod to Blue-man. With a quick movement Blue-man unslung his blue camera case. Blue-man, and Bond could not see exactly as the trunk of a plane-tree beside him just then in- tervened to obscure his vision, bent forward and seemed , to fiddle with the case.
Then with a blinding flash of white light there was the ear-splitting crack of a mon- strous explosion and Bond, despite the protection of the tree-trunk, was slammed down to the pavement by a solid bolt of hot air which dented his cheeks and stomach as if they had been made of paper.
He lay, gazing up at the sun, while the air or so it seemed to him went on twanging with the explosion as if someone had hit the bass register of a piano with a sledge hammer.
From all sides came the sharp tinkle of falling glass. Above in the sky hung a mushroom of black smoke which rose and dissolved as he drunkenly watched it.
For fifty yards down the boulevard the trees were leafless and charred. Opposite, two of them had snapped off near the base and lay drunkenly across the road.
Between them there was a still smoking crater. Of the two men in straw hats, there remained ab- solutely nothing. But there were red traces on the road, and on the pavements and against the trunks of the trees, and there were glittering shreds high up in the branches.
Bond felt himself starting to vomit. It was Mathis who got to him first, and by that time Bond was standing with his arm round the tree which had saved his life.
Stupefied, but unharmed, he allowed Mathis to lead him off towards the Splendide from which guests and servants were pouring in chattering fright.
Mathis paused only to turn on the radio in front of the fireplace, then, while Bond stripped off his blood- flecked clothes, Mathis sprayed him with questions.
He is unhurt, and they are not to worry him. I will explain to them in half an hour. They should tell the Press that it was apparently a vendetta between two Bulgarian communists and that one killed the other with a bomb.
They need say nothing of the third Bulgar who must have been hanging about somewhere, but they must get him at all costs. He will certainly head for Paris.
It must have been faulty. They intended to throw it and then dodge behind their tree. But it all came out the other way round. We will discover the facts.
And these people appear to be taking you seriously. And what was the significance of the red and the blue cases?
We must try and find some fragments of the red one. He was excited, and his eyes glit- tered. This was becoming a formidable and dramatic af- fair, in many aspects of which he was now involved per- sonally.
The door slammed, and silence set- tled on the room. Bond sat for a while by the window and enjoyed being alive.
Please take care of yourself. He dipped the knife into the glass of very hot water which stood beside the pot of Strasbourg porcelain and reminded himself to tip the waiter doubly for this par- ticular meal.
After the remains of his luncheon had been removed, he sat at his window gazing out to sea until there came a knock on the door as the masseur, a Swede, presented himself.
Silently he got to work on Bond from his feet to his neck, melting the tensions in his body and calming his still twanging nerves.
He awoke in the evening completely refreshed. After a cold shower, Bond walked over to the Casino. Since the night before he had lost the mood of the tables.
He needed to reestablish that focus which is half mathematical and half intuitive and which, with a slow pulse and a sanguine temperament, he knew to be the 41 42 CASINO ROYALE essential equipment of any gambler who was set on winning.
Bond had always been a gambler. He loved the dry riffle of the cards and the constant unemphatic drama of the quiet figures round the green tables.
He liked the solid, studied comfort of cardrooms and casinos, the well-padded arms of the chairs, the glass of champagne or whisky at the elbow, the quiet unhurried attention of good servants.
He was amused by the impartiality of the roulette ball and of the playing cards — and their eternal bias. There was only oneself to praise or blame.
Luck was a servant and not a master. Luck had to be accepted with a shrug or taken advantage of up to the hilt. But it had to be understood and recognized for what it was and not confused with a faulty appreciation of the odds, , for, at gambling, the deadly sin is to mistake bad play for bad luck.
And luck in all its moods had to be loved and not feared. Bond saw luck as a woman, to be softly wooed or brutally ravaged, never pandered to or pur- sued.
But he was honest enough to, admit that he had never yet been made to suffer by cards or by women. One day, and he accepted the fact, he would be brought to his knees by love or by luck.
When that happened he knew that he too would be branded with the deadly question-mark he recognized so often in others, the promise to -pay before you have lost: He always did this although he knew that- each turn of the wheel, each fall of the ball into a numbered slot, had absolutely no connexion with its predecessor.
He accepted that the game begins afresh each time the croupier picks up the ivory ball with his right hand, gives one of the four spokes of the wheel a controlled twist clockwise with the same hand and, with a third motion, also with the right hand, flicks the ball round the outer rim of the wheel anticlockwise, against its spin.
It was obvious that all this ritual and all the mechanical minutiae of the wheel, of the numbered slots and the cylinder, had been devised and perfected over the years so that neither the skill of the croupier nor any bias in the wheel could affect the fall of the ball.
And yet it is a convention among roulette players, and Bond rigidly adhered to it, to take careful note of the past history of each session and to be guided by any pe- culiarities in the run of the wheel.
To note, for instance, and consider significant, sequences of more than two on a single number or of more than four at the other chances down to evens.
He simply main- tained that the more effort and ingenuity you put into gambling, the more you took out. He thus had two-thirds of the board covered less the zero and, since the dozens pay odds of two to one, he stood to win a hundred thousand francs every time any number lower than 25 turned up.
After seven coups he had won six times. He lost on the seventh When 30 came up. His net profit was half a million francs. He kept off the table for the eighth throw.
This piece of luck cheered him further and, accepting the 30 as a finger-post to the last dozen, he decided to back the first and last dozens until he had lost twice.
Ten throws later the middle dozen came up twice, costing him four hundred thousand francs, but he rose from the table eleven hundred thousand francs to the good.
Directly Bond had started playing in maximums, his game had become the centre of interest at the table. As he seemed to be in luck, one or two pilot fish started to swim with the shark.
Sitting directly opposite, one of these, whom Bond took to be "an American, had shown more than the usual friendliness and pleasure at his share of the winning streak.
When Bond rose, he too pushed back his chair and called cheerfully across the table: Guess I owe you a drink. Will you join me? He knew he was right as they strolled off together towards the bar, after Bond had thrown a plaque of ten mille to the croupier and had given a mille to the huissier who drew back his chair.
What shall we have to celebrate? In a deep champagne goblet. But I do like that one to be large and very strong and very cold and very well-made.
I hate small portions of anything, particularly when they taste bad. He reached for it and took a long sip. He lowered his voice: Our people are definitely interested.
I expect your fellows are much the same in London. But, anyway, here I am. It turned out that Leiter was from Texas.
While he talked on about his job with the Joint Intelligence Staff of N. Felix Leiter was about thirty-five.
He was tall with a thin bony frame and his lightweight, tan-coloured suit hung loosely from his shoulders like the clothes of Frank Sinatra.
His movements and speech were slow," but one had the feeling that there was plenty of speed and strength in him, and that he. As he sat hunched over the table, he seemed to have some of the jackknife quality of a falcon.
There was this impression also in his face, in the sharpness of his chin and cheekbones and the wide wry mouth.
His grey eyes had a feline slant which was in- creased by his habit of screwing them up against the smoke of the Chesterfields which he tapped out of the pack in a chain.
The permanent wrinkles which this habit had etched at the corners gave the impression that he smiled more with his eyes than with his mouth.
A mop of straw-coloured hair lent his face a boyish look which closer examination contradicted. Although he seemed to talk quite openly about his duties in Paris, Bond soon noticed that he never spoke of his American colleagues in Europe or in Washington, and he guessed that Leiter held the interests of his own organization far above the mutual concerns of the North Atlantic Allies.
Bond sympathized with him. Before leaving the Casino, Bond deposited his total capital of twenty-four million at the caisse, keeping only a few notes of ten mille as pocket- money.
As they walked across to the Splendide, they saw that a team of workmen was already busy at the scene of the explosion. Several trees were uprooted and hoses frOm three municipal tank cars were washing down the boulevard and pavements.
The bomb-crater had disap- peared and only a few passers-by had paused to gape. Bond assumed that similar face-lifting had already been carried out at the Hermitage and to the, shops and front- ages which had lost their windows.
Bond was not sure, and said so. All concierges are venal. It is not their fault. They are trained to regard all hotel guests except maharajahs as potential cheats and thieves.
They have as much concern for your comfort or welKbeing as crocodiles. Bond thought it well to say that he still felt a little bit shaky.
CHAPTER 8 Pink Lights and Champagne Bond walked up to his room, which again showed no sign of trespass, threw off his clothes, took a long hot bath followed by an ice-cold shower, and lay down on his bed.
There remained an hour in which to rest and compose his thoughts before he met the girl in the Splendide bar, an hour to examine minutely the details of his plans for the game, and for after the game, in all the various circumstances of victory or defeat.
He had to plan the attendant roles of Mathis, Letter, and the girl and visualize the reactions of the enemy in various contingencies.
He closed his eyes, and his thoughts pursued his imagination through a series of carefully constructed scenes as if he were watching the tumbling chips of coloured glass in a kaleidoscope.
He rose and dressed, dismissing the future completely from his mind. As he tied his thin, double-ended, black satin tie, he His grey-blue eyes looked calmly back with a hint of ironical inquiry and the short lock of black hair which would never stay in place slowly subsided to form a thick comma above his right eyebrow.
With the thin vertical scar down his right cheek the general effect was faintly piratical. Not much of Hoagy Carmichael there, thought Bond, as he filled a flat, light, gun-metal box with fifty of the Morland cigarettes with the triple gold band.
He slipped the case into his hip pocket and snapped his black oxidized Ronson to see if it needed fuel. After pocketing the thin sheaf of ten-mille notes, he opened a drawer and took out a light chamois leather holster and slipped it over his left shoulder so that it hung about three inches below his armpit.
He then took from under his shirts in another drawer a very flat. He charged the weapon again, loaded it, put up the safety catch, and dropped it into the shallow pouch of the shoulder-holster.
He looked carefully round the room to see if anything had been forgotten and slipped his single-breasted dinner-jacket coat over his heavy silk evening shirt.
He felt cool and comfortable. He verified in the mirror that there was absolutely no sign of the flat gun under his left arm, gave a final pull at his narrow tie and walked out of the door and locked it.
She stood and waited for him to come up to her. He had remembered her beauty exactly. He was not surprised to be thrilled by it again.
There was a thin necklace of diamonds at her throat and a diamond clip in the low vee which just exposed the jutting swell of her breasts. She carried a plain black evening bag, a flat oblong which she now held, her arm akimbo, at her waist.
Her jet-black hair hung straight and simply to the final in- ward curl below the chin. Business must be good in the radio world!
It marks when you sit down. And, by the way, if you hear me scream tonight, I shall have sat on a cane chair. The fashionable part of the restaurant was beside the wide crescent of window built out like the broad stern of a ship over the hotel gardens, but Bond had chosen a table in one of the mirrored alcoves at the back of the great room.
These had survived from Edwardian days and they were secluded and gay in white and gilt, with the red silk-shaded table and wall lights of the late Empire.
He turned to his companion. He said to her abruptly: Bond gave her a look of inquiry. Apparently they wanted to remember it. An idea struck him.
He explained about the special Martini he had invented and his search for a name for it. Can I have it? And now have you decided what you would like to have for dinner?
Is it very shameless to be so certain and so expensive? While Mademoiselle is enjoying the strawberries, I will have an avocado pear with a little French dressing.
Do you ap- prove? With his finger on the page, Bond turned to the sommelier: It comes partly from being a bachelor, but mostly from a habit of taking a lot of trouble over details.
But it sounds rather schoolgirlish when one says it, 5 she added apologetically. The little carafe of Vodka had arrived in its bowl of crushed ice, and Bond filled their glasses.
He was longing to tell you himself. He was in a Citroen, and he had picked up two English hikers as protective colouring. At the roadblock his French was so bad that they asked for his papers, and he brought out a gun and shot one of the motor-cycle patrol.
Then they took him down to Rouen and extracted the story — in the usual French fashion, I suppose. He said the bright colours would make it easier for them.
He told them that the blue case contained a very powerful smoke-bomb. The red case was the explosive. As one of them threw the red case the other was to press a switch on the blue case, and they would escape under cover of the smoke.
In fact, the smoke-bomb was a pure invention to make the Bulgars think they could get away. Both cases contained an identical high-explosive bomb.
There was no difference between the blue and the red cases. The idea was to destroy you and the bomb- throwers without a trace. Presumably there were other plans for dealing with the third man.
It would be better, they thought, to touch off the smoke- bomb first and, from inside the cloud of smoke, hurl the explosive bomb at you.The Russians had no stupid rekord bundesligaspieler about murder. The web site, planet win 365 mobile and museum are a real work of love,dedication and patients. It would be useful, dortmund liverpool heute almost impossible, to mark all the cards, and it would mean the connivance at least of the croupier. But the success of his gambit with the chair had wiped out all memories of the dread- ful valley of defeat through which he had just passed. He was playing a progressive system on red at table five. We covered the rent and a little extra, and the museum went into public storage. One in his cigarette case. The directors hoped that he would be playing again that evening. The huissier wiped a thick glass ashtray with a cloth and put it beside them. Le Chiffre faced his own two cards. When for a moment he held her hand tabelle brasilien serie a his he felt a warmth of affection and understanding pass between them that would have seemed impossible half an hour earlier. She stood and waited for him to come up to her. Then he slept, and. Goofs As Bond walks Valerie to the elevator, handeln mit optionen shadow of the boom mic is visible at the brexit casino of cfd-online screen.
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As you can see this evidence is the best alternative for evolution. I will be adding to it daily so try to keep up. THIS information will renew your mind, and create fertile ground, for seeds to be planted.
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May I use the photo of the giant mummy head and 4 ft. Hey Joe, CLesley here, You will not get any static from me, you can use what i have here.
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I am not sure where you are getting your info, but great topic. I needs to spend some time learning much more or understanding more.
Thanks for excellent info I was looking for this info for my mission. While researching town histoties in New England searching for historical accounts of pre-colonial stonework I began to find accounts of giant skeletons.
My thought is that this race was the same as the mound builders and has something to do with the ancient stone ceremonial landscape of the Northeast.
Email me if you want a list of my finds. Great job compiling evidence. Take care Jim Vieira. Good to meet you Jim, I am interested in your work. I will give credit where its due.
I am a theme park artist by trade and would like to give back. If you need anything from my work, or this site. I found your blog using msn.
This is a very well written article. I will make sure to bookmark it and return to read more of Greater Ancestors World Museum. Thanks for the post.
There are displays of giant animals, dinosaurs, but no giant humans-ancient giant humans on display? The web site, facebook and museum are a real work of love,dedication and patients.
Hope to see you soon and see your extraordinary work. I have received giant clams, giant horserush fossils, and various one of a kind replicas. Everything that I receive on giants gets displayed immediately.
If you send it I promise it will be placed in a shadow box, protected, and will be seen by others. If you would like to donate it, or do a temporary loan to the museum contact me at greaterancestors yahoo.
Hi Chris, I just visited again with John Feakes in Winnipeg, Manitoba, and shared more of my stories of unusual creatures which I have obtained largely from the Native folks in Canada and the U.
I would be glad to hear from you. I have not yet looked at your websites, but look forward to doing so. Hello John, Yes I am interested in your work you can contact me at greaterancestors yahoo.
Its proof that we are not from monkey, but now are we considered the hobbits of these so called humans? We have been secretly collecting giant artifacts for years now and we are happy to share them with the world.
Go see this museum folks! I pray that your generosity is contagious. Everyone, Charles has a heart for sharing the truth so he is donating some of his giant artifact collection to the museum so that you can enjoy when you visit the Greater-Ancestors-World-Museum.
Charles and his family are Giant-Hunters. A Giant-Hunter s someone that looks for giant-evidences, and in Charles case finds evidences.
Charles is a field agent for GAWM, and he is one of the best. Let Charles be an example, the museum is looking for donations, arrowheads, geodes, and fossils of all kinds.
So if you know someone that has a collection ask them if they would like to donate to the museum. We need attention to this cause. We will straighten history, repair the history of giants that have been damaged by deconstructionists.
We look forward to your best efforts, and we bring you such amazing wonders and change the World for the better. This is an update: The Greater Ancestors World Museum remains active here on this website.
We have been having some problems with receiving comments, and we are trying to work that out. We are continually increasing the volume of Greater human, animals and ancient technology on this site.
Last November our rent was tripled at the Museum at our location in the underground bank vault. The museum has been in paid storage costing dollars a month.
We now have all of the museums contents in our own secure and safe storage costing nothing. This may not seem like a big deal but the contents can be mobile in a moments notice.
We are now looking into buying and building a museum. We have a donate button at the top of this page if you would like to see the GAWMuseum open sooner.
If you would like to donate land, vehicles or materials we will accept that too. What section are you in? It seemed only to be a liaison job, so M.
All they knew was that I was to work with a Double O. I was en- chanted. Probably quite decent people. They just got caught up in the gale of the world like that Yugoslav that Tito bumped off.
How do you like the grated egg with your caviar? Suddenly he regretted the intimacy of their dinner and of their talk.
He felt that he had said too much and what was only a working relationship had become confused. She listened to him coldly, but with attentive obedi- ence.
She- felt thoroughly deflated by his harshness, while admitting to herself that she should have paid more heed to the warnings of Head of S.
Then at a hint 60 CASINO ROYALE that they were finding pleasure together, a hint that was only the first words of a conventional phrase, he had suddenly turned to ice and had brutally veered away as if warmth were poison to him.
She felt hurt and foolish. Then she gave a mental shrug and concentrated with all her attention on what he was saying. She would not make the same mistake again.
The odds against the banker and the player are more or less even. I have about the same. There will be ten players, I ex- pect, and we sit round the banker at a kidney-shaped table.
The banker plays two games, one against each of the tableaux to left and right of him. In that game, the banker should be able to win by playing off one tableau against the other and by first-class accountancy.
I shall be sitting as near dead opposite Le Chiffre as I can get. In front of him he has a shoe containing six packs of cards, well shuffled. The cards are shuf- fled by the croupier and cut bygone of the players and put into the shoe in full view of the table.
It would be useful, but almost impossible, to mark all the cards, and it would mean the connivance at least of the croupier. Anyway, we shall be watching for that too.
The banker announces an opening bank of five hundred thousand francs, or five hundred pounds as it is now.
Then Number 2 has the right to take it; and if he refuses then Number 3, and so on round the table. If no single player takes it all, the bet is offered to the table as a whole and everyone chips in, including sometimes the spectators round the table, until the five hundred thousand is made up.
It may take some time, but in the end one of us two is bound to break the other, irrespective of the other players at the table, although they can, of course, make him richer or poorer in the meantime.
Neither of them drank brandy or a liqueur. Finally, Bond felt it was time to explain the actual mechanics of the game. In this game I get two cards and the banker gets two; and, unless anyone wins outright, either or both of us can get one more card.
The object of the game is to hold two, or three cards which together count nine points, Or as nearly nine as possible. Court cards and tens count nothing; aces one each; any other card its face value.
It is only the last figure of your count that signifies. So nine plus seven equals six — not sixteen. Draws are played over again. Five is the turning point of the game.
According to the odds, the chance of bettering or worsening your hand if you hold a five are exactly even. If he has a natural, he turns them up and wins.
Otherwise he is faced with the same problems as I was. But he is helped in his decision to draw or not to draw a card by my actions. If I have stood he must assume that I have a five, six, or seven: And this card was dealt to me face up.
On its face value and a knowledge of the odds, he will know whether to take another card or to stand on his own. He has a tiny help over his decision to draw or to stand.
But there is always one problem card at this game: Shall one draw or stand on a five, and what will your opponent do with a five? Some players always draw or always stand,.
I follow my intuition. The prospect of at last getting to grips with Le Chiffre stimulated him and quickened his pulse.
He seemed to have completely forgotten the brief coolness between them, and Vesper was relieved and entered into his mood.
He paid the bill and gave a handsome tip to the som- melier. Vesper rose and led the way out of the restaurant and out on to the steps of the hotel.
The big Bentley was waiting and Bond drove Vesper over, parking as close to the entrance as he could. As they walked through the ornate anterooms, he hardly spoke.
She looked at him and saw that his nostrils were , slightly flared. In other respects he seemed completely at ease, acknowledging cheerfully the greetings of the Casino functionaries.
At the door to the salle privee they were not asked for their membership cards. Before they had penetrated very far into the main room, Felix Leiter detached himself from one of the roulette tables and greeted Bond as an old friend.
Then perhaps we could come and watch you when your game starts to warm up. Well, I shall leave you then. Now come with me and watch Number 17 obey my extrasensory perceptions.
He stood at the caisse and took his twenty-four million francs against the receipt which had been given him that afternoon. He divided the notes into equal , packets and put half the sum into his right-hand coat pocket and the other half into the left.
Then he strolled slowly across the room between the thronged tables until he came to the top of the room where the broad baccarat table waited behind the brass rail.
The chef de partie lifted the velvet-covered chain which allowed entrance through the brass rail. Bond moved inside the rail to which a huissier was holding out his chair.
He sat down with a nod to the players on his right and left. He took out his wide gun- metal cigarette case and his black lighter and placed them on the green baize at his right elbow.
The huissier wiped a thick glass ashtray with a cloth and put it beside them. Bond lit a cigarette and leant back in his chair. He glanced round the table.
He knew most of the players by sight, but, few of their names. At Number 7, on his right, there was a Monsieur Sixte, a wealthy Belgian with metal interests in the Congo.
At Number 9 there was Lord Danvers, a distinguished but weak-looking man whose francs were presumably provided by his rich American wife, a middle-aged woman with the predatory mouth of a barracuda, who sat at Number 3.
Bond reflected that they would probably play a pawky and nervous game and be amongst the early casualties. He would play coldly and well and would be a stayer.
Bond asked the huissier for a card and wrote on it, under a neat question mark, the remaining numbers, 2, 4, 5, 8, 10, and asked the huissier to give it to the chef de partie.
Soon it came back with the names filled in. With her sanguine temperament she would play gaily and with panache and might run into a vein of luck. Du Pont, rich-looking, who might or might not have some of the real Du Pont money behind them.
Bond guessed they would be stayers. They both had a businesslike look about them and were talking together easily and cheerfully as if they felt very much at home at the big game.
Bond was quite happy to have them next to him— Mrs. Du 1 Pont sat at Number 5— and he felt prepared to share with them or with Monsieur Sixte on his right, if they found them- selves faced with too big a bank.
At Number 8 was the Maharajah of a small Indian state, probably with all his wartime sterling balances to play with. But the Maharajah would probably stay late in the game and stand some heavy losses if they were gradual.
Number 10 was a prosperous-looking young Italian, Signor Tomelli, who possibly had plenty of money from rack-rents in Milan and would probably play a dashing and foolish game.
He might lose his temper and make a scene. With the same economy of movement, he cut the thick slab of cards, which the croupier had placed on the table squarely between his blunt relaxed hands.
He gave it a short deliberate slap to settle the cards, the first of which showed its semicircular pale pink tongue through the slanting aluminum mouth of the shoe.
Then, with a thick white forefinger he pressed gently on the pink tongue and slipped out the first card six inches or a foot towards the Greek on his right hand.
Then he slipped out a card for himself, then another for the Greek, then one more for himself. He sat immobile, not touching his own cards.
The two pink crabs scuttled out together and the Greek gathered the cards into his wide left hand and cautiously bent his head so that he could see, in the shadow made by his cupped hand, the value of the bottom of the two cards.
Then he slowly inserted the forefinger of his right hand and slipped the bottom card slightly sideways so that the value of the top card was also just perceptible.
His face was quite impassive. He flattened out his left hand on the table and then withdrew it, leaving the two pink cards face down before him, their secret unrevealed.
Then he lifted his head and looked Le Chiffre in the eye. From the decision to stand on his two cards and not to ask for another, it was clear that the Greek had a five, or a six, or a seven.
To be certain Of winning, the bank had to reveal an eight or a nine. If the banker failed to show either figure, he also had the right to take another card which might or might not improve his count.
With his right hand he picked up the two cards and turned them face up- wards on the table with a faint snap. They were a four and a five, an uhdef eatable natural nine.
Le Chiffre had chosen the second course. The croupier slipped some counters through the slot in the table which receives the cagnotte and announced quietly: Bond lit a cigarette and settled himself in his chair.
The long game was launched, and the sequence of these gestures and the reiteration of this subdued litany would continue until the end came and the players dispersed.
Then the enigmatic cards would be burnt or defaced, a shroud would be draped over the table, and the grass- green baize battlefield would soak up the blood of its victims and refresh itself.
He slowly removed one thick hand from the table and slipped it into the pocket of his dinner-jacket. The hand came out holding a small metal cylinder with a cap which Le Chiffre unscrewed.
He inserted the nozzle of the cylinder, with an obscene deliberation, twice into each black nostril in turn, and luxuriously inhaled the benzedrine vapour.
Unhurriedly he pocketed the inhaler; then his hand came quickly back, above the level of. But for the high-lights on the satin of the shawl-cut lapels, he might have been faced by the thick bust of a black-fleeced Minotaur rising out of a green grass field.
Bond slipped a packet of notes on to the table without counting them. The other players sensed a tension between the two gamblers, and there was a silence as Le Chiffre fingered the four cards out of the shoe.
There was a little gasp of envy from the table, and the players to the left of Bond exchanged rueful glances at their failure to accept the two-million-franc bet.
With the hint of a shrug, Le Chiffre slowly faced his own two cards and flicked them away with his finger- nail.
They were two valueless knaves. Bond slipped them into his right-hand pocket with the unused packet of notes. His face showed no emotion, but he was pleased with the success of his first coup and with the outcome of the silent clash of wills across the: The woman on his left, the American Mrs.
Du Pont, turned to him with a wry smile. Du Pont leant forward from the other side of his wife: They stood behind and to either side of the banker.
His whole long body was restless, and his hands shifted often on the brass rail. Bond guessed that he would kill without interest or concern for what he killed, and that he would prefer strangling.
He had something of Lennie in Of Mice and Men, but his inhumanity would not come from infantilism but from drugs.
The other man looked like a Corsican shopkeeper. He was short and very dark with a flat head covered with thickly greased hair. He seemed to be a cripple.
A chunky Malacca cane with a rubber tip hung on a rail beside him. He must have had permission to bring the cane into the Casino with him, reflected Bond, who knew that neither sticks nor any other objects were allowed in the rooms as a precaution against acts of violence.
He looked sleek and well fed. His mouth hung vacantly half open and revealed very bad teeth. He wore a heavy black moustache, and the backs of his hands on the rail were matted with black hair.
Bond guessed that hair covered most of his squat body. The game continued uneventfully, but with a slight bias against the bank. Your luck can defeat the first and second tests, but when the third deal comes along it most often spells disaster.
Again and again at this point you find yourself being bounced back to earth. It was like that now. Neither the bank nor any of the players seemed to be able to get hot.
Bond had no idea what profits Le Chiffre had made over the past two days. In fact, Le Chiffre had lost heavily all that afternoon.
At this moment he only had ten million left. Bond was cautiously pleased. Le Chiffre showed no trace of emotion. He continued to play like an automaton, never speaking except when he gave in- structions in a low aside to the croupier at the opening of each new bank.
Outside the pool of silence round the high table, there was the constant hum of the other tables, chemin-de- - fer, roulette, and trente-et-quarante, interspersed with the clear calls of the croupiers and occasional bursts of laughter or gasps of excitement from different corners of the huge salle.
In the background there thudded always the hidden metronome of the Casino, ticking up its little treasure of one-per-cents with each spin of a wheel and each turn of a card — a pulsing fat-cat with a zero for a heart.
The Greek at Number 1 was still having a bad time. He had lost the first coup of half a million francs and the second.
He passed the third time, leaving a bank of two millions. Carmel Delane at Number 2 refused it. So did Lady Danvers at Number 3. The Du Ponts looked at each other.
Again he fixed Le Chiffre with his eye. Again he gave only a cursory look at his two cards. He held a marginal five. The position was dangerous.
Le Chiffre turned up a knave and a four. He gave the shoe another slap. He drew a three. And lost again, to a natural nine. In two coups he had lost twelve million francs.
Suddenly Bond felt the sweat on his palms. Like snow in sunshine his capital had melted. With the covetous deliberation of the winning gambler, Le Chiffre was tapping a light tattoo on the table with his right hand.
Bond looked across into the eyes of murky basalt. They held an ironical question. There was no hint in his movements that this would be his last stake.
His mouth felt suddenly as dry as flock wall-paper. He looked up and saw Vesper and Felix Leiter standing where the gunman with the stick had stood.
He did not know how long they had been standing there. He heard a faint rattle on the rail behind him and turned his head.
The battery of bad teeth under the black moustache gaped vacantly back at him. The light from the broad satin-lined shades which had seemed so welcoming now seemed to take the colour out of his hand as he glanced at the cards.
Then he looked again. It was nearly as bad as it could have been — the king of hearts and an ace, the ace of spades.
It squinted up at him like a black widow spider. Le Chiffre faced his own two cards. He had a queen and a black five. He looked at Bond and pressed out another card with a wide forefinger.
The table was ab- solutely silent. He faced it and flicked it away. The croupier lifted it delicately with his spatula and slipped it over to Bond.
It was a good card, the five of hearts, but to Bond it was a difficult fingerprint in dried blood. He now had a count of six and Le Chiffre a count of five, but the banker having a five and giving a five, would and must draw another card and try and improve with a one, two, three, or four.
Drawing any other card he would be defeated. It was, unnecessarily, the best, a four, giving the bank a count of nine. He had won, almost slowing up.
Bond was beaten and cleaned out. He opened his wide black case and took out a cigarette. He snapped open the tiny jaws of the Ronson and lit the cigarette and put the lighter back on the table.
He took a deep lungful of smoke and expelled it between his teeth with a faint hiss. Back to the hotel and bed, avoiding the commiserating eyes of Mathis and Leiter and Vesper: He looked round the table and up at the spectators.
Few were looking at him. Leiter had vanished, not wishing to look Bond in the eye after the knock-out, he supposed.
Yet Vesper looked curiously unmoved, she gave him a smile of en- couragement. But then, Bond reflected, she knew nothing of the game. Had no notion, probably, of the bitterness of his defeat.
The huissier was coming towards Bond inside the rail. He stopped beside him. Placed a squat envelope beside Bond on the table. It was as thick as a dictionary.
Said something about the caisse. He took the heavy anonymous envelope below the level of the table and slit it open with his thumbnail, noticing that the gum was still wet on the flap.
Unbelieving and yet knowing it was true, he felt the broad wads of notes. He slipped them into his pockets, retaining the half-sheet of notepaper which was pinned to the topmost of them.
He glanced at it in the shadow below the table. There was one line of writing in ink: With the compliments of the U. He looked over towards Vesper.
Felix Leiter was again standing beside her. He grinned slightly, and Bond smiled back and raised his hand from the table in a small gesture of benediction.
Then he set his mind to sweeping away all traces of the sense of complete defeat which had swamped him a few minutes before.
This was a reprieve, but only a reprieve. There could be no more miracles. This time he had to win— if Le Chif fre had not already made his fifty million — if he was going to go on!
Perhaps, thought Bond, Le Chiffre needed just one more coup, even a minor one of a few million francs, to achieve his object.
Then he would have made his fifty million francs and would leave the table. By tomorrow his deficits would be covered and his position secure.
Then the only hope, thought Bond, was to stamp on him how. Not to share the bank with the table, or to take some minor r part of it, but to go the whole hog.
This would really jolt Le Chiffre. He would hate to see more than ten or fifteen million of the stake covered, and he could not possibly expect anyone to banco the entire thirty-two millions.
He might not know that Bond had been cleaned out, but he must imagine that Bond had by now only small reserves. He could not know of the contents of the envelope.
If he did, he would probably withdraw the bank and start all over again on the wearisome journey up from the five hundred franc opening bet.
The analysis was right. Le Chiffre needed another eight million. At last he nodded. A silence built itself up round the table. Besides, this was won- derful publicity.
The stake had only once been reached in the history of baccarat — at Deauville in It was then that Bond leant slightly forward.
The word ran through the Casino. For most of them it was more than they had earned all their lives. It was their savings and the savings of their families.
It was, literally, a small fortune. One of the Casino directors consulted with the chef de partie. The chef de partie turned apologetically to Bond.
It was an indication that Bond really must show he had the money to coyer the bet. They knew, of course, that he was a very wealthy man, but after all, thirty-two millions!
And it sometimes happened that desperate people would bet without a sou in the world and cheer- fully go to prison if they lost. It was when Bond shovelled the great wad of notes out on to the table and the croupier busied himself with the task of counting the pinned sheaves of ten thousand franc notes, the largest denomination issued in France, that he caught a swift exchange of glances between Le Chiffre and the gunman standing directly behind Bond.
Immediately he felt something hard press into the base of his spine, right into the cleft between his two buttocks on the padded chair. At the same time a thick voice speaking southern French said softly, urgently, just behind his right ear: It is absolutely silent.
You will appear to have fainted. I shall be gone. Withdraw your bet before I count ten. If you call for help I shall fire. These people had shown they would unhesitatingly go the limit.
The thick walking stick was explained. Bond knew the type of gun. The barrel a series of soft rubber baffles which absorbed the detonation, but allowed the passage of the bullet.
They had been invented and used in the v. Bond had tested them himself. Bond turned his head. There was the man, leaning forward close behind him, smiling broadly under his black moustache as if he were wishing Bond luck, com- pletely secure in the noise and the crowd.
The discoloured teeth came together. His eyes glittered back at Bond. His mouth was open, and he was breathing fast.
They were smiling and talking to each other. Where were those famous men of his? This crowd of jabbering idiots.
The chef de partie, the croupier, the huissier? The chef de partie bowed smilingly towards Bond. It was a chance.
He carefully moved his hands to the edge of the table, gripped it, edged his buttocks right back, feeling the sharp gun-sight grind into his coccyx.
The back of the chair splintered with the sharp crack. There were cries of dismay. The spectators cringed away and then, reassured, clustered back.
Hands helped him to his feet and brushed him down. The huissier bustled up with the chef de partie. At all costs a scandal must be avoided.
Bond held on to the brass rail. He looked confused and embarrassed. He brushed his hand across his forehead. Naturally, with this tremendous game.
Would Monsieur prefer to with- draw, to lie down, to go home? Should a doctor be fetched? Bond shook his head. He was perfectly all right now.
His excuses to the table. To the banker also. A new chair was brought and he sat down. He looked across at Le Chiffre.
Through his relief at being alive, he felt a moment of triumph at what he saw— some fear in the fat, pale face.
There was a buzz of speculation round the table. He turned to examine the crowd behind him. There was no trace of the gunman, but the huissier was looking for someone to claim the Malacca stick.
But it no longer carried a rubber tip. Bond beckoned to him. It belongs to an acquaintance of his. Bond grimly reflected that a short examination would reveal to Leiter why he had made such an embarrassing public display of himself.
He turned back to the table and tapped the green cloth in front of him to show that he was ready. Le Chiffre hit the shoe with a flat-handed slap that made it rattle.
As an afterthought he took out his benzedrine inhaler and sucked the vapour up his nose. By a miracle he had sur- vived a devastating wound.
He could feel his armpits still wet with the fear of it. But the success of his gambit with the chair had wiped out all memories of the dread- ful valley of defeat through which he had just passed.
He had made a fool of himself. They must not fail him. In the silence round his own table, Bond suddenly heard a distant croupier intone: Le rouge gagne, impair et manque.
The two cards slithered towards him across the green sea. Like an octopus under a rock, Le Chiffre watched him from the other side of the table.
Bond reached out a steady right hand and drew the cards towards him. Would it be the lift of the heart which a nine brings, or an eight brings?
He fanned the two cards under the curtain of his hand. His whole body stiffened in a reflex of self- defence. He had two queens, two red queens.
They looked rougishly back at him from the shadows. They were the worst. The banker slowly turned his own two cards face up. He had a count of three — a king and a black three.
Bond softly exhaled a cloud of tobacco smoke. He still had a chance. Now he was really faced with the moment of truth.
The croupier slipped it delicately across. To Le Chiffre it meant nothing. Or he might have had a two, three, four, or even five.
In which case, with nine, his maximum count would be four. Holding a three and giving a nine is one of the moot situations at the game.
The odds are so nearly divided between to draw or not to draw. Bond let the banker sweat it out. Since his nine could only be equalled by the banker drawing a six, he would normally have shown his count if it had been a friendly game.
The whole secret lay in the reverse of the two pink backs where the pair of queens kissed the green cloth. His thick tongue came out slyly and licked a drop out of the corner of his red gash of a mouth.
Then his whole body shrugged and he slipped out a card for himself from the lisping shoe. It was a wonderful card, a five.
He must have won. There was not a man at the table who did not believe Bond was defeated. The spatula flicked the two pink cards over on their backs.
The gay red queens smiled up at the lights. The big man fell back in his chair as if slugged above the heart. Then he rocked back. His lips were grey.
As the huge stack of plaques was shunted across the table to Bond the banker reached into an inner pocket of his jacket and threw a wad of notes on to the table.
The croupier riffled through them. He slapped down their equivalent in ten plaques of a million each. This is the kill, thought Bond. This man has reached the point of no return.
This is the last of his capital. He has come to where I stood an hour ago, and he is making the last gesture that I made.
But if this man loses there is no one to come to his aid, no miracle to help him. Bond sat back arid lit a cigarette.
On a small table beside him half a bottle of Clicquot and a glass had materialized. Without asking who the benefactor was, Bond filled the glass to the brim and drank it down in two long draughts.
Then he leant back with his arms curled forward on the table in front of him like the arms of a wrestler seeking a hold at the opening of a bout of ju-jitsu.
The players on his left remained silent. Once more the two cards were borne over to him, and this time the croupier slipped them into the green lagoon between the outstretched arms.
Bond curled his right hand in, glanced briefly down and flipped the cards face up into the middle of the table. Le Chiffre was gazing down at his own two black kings.
He unhooked the velvet- covered chain and let it fall. The spectators opened a way for him. They looked at him curiously and rather fearfully as if he carried the smell of death on him.
He took a hundred-mille plaque from the stacks beside him and slipped it across the table to the chef de partie. He cut short the effusive thanks and asked the croupier to have his winnings carried to the caisse.
The other players were leaving their seats. With no banker, there could be no game, and by now it was half-past two.
He exchanged some pleasant words with his neighbours to right and left and then ducked under the rail to where Vesper and Felix Leiter were waiting for him.
Together they walked over to the caisse. Bond was invited to come into the private office of the Casino directors. On the desk lay his huge pile of chips.
He added the contents of his pockets to it. In all there was over seventy million francs. He was congratulated warmly on his winnings.
The directors hoped that he would be playing again that evening. Bond gave an evasive reply. For a few minutes they discussed the game over a bottle of champagne.
He Was as puzzled as we were by the spill you took. He was standing at the back of the crowd with one of his men when it happened. The gunman got away without difficulty.
You can imagine how they kicked themselves when they saw the gun. Mathis gave me this bullet to show you what you escaped.
The man came in alone. He got permission to bring the stick in with him. He had a cer- tificate for a war-wound pension. These people certainly get themselves well organized.
You certainly took Le Chiffre for a ride at the end, though we had some bad moments. I expect you did too. I thought I was really finished. Talk about a friend in need.
He might get ideas. What do you think? She had hardly said a word since the end of the game. You get to it through the public rooms.
It looks quite cheerful. Leiter looked at him and read his mind. Might as well convoy the treasure ship right into port.
Both had their hands on their guns. The short walk was uneventful. At the hotel, Leiter insisted on accompanying Bond to his room.
It was as Bond had left it six hours before. Do you think I ought to stay up and keep you two company? I hope we get on a job again one day.
He went out and closed the door. Bond turned back to the friendliness of his room. He went into the bathroom and dashed cold water over his face and gargled with a sharp mouthwash.
He felt the bruises on the back of his head and on his right shoulder. He reflected cheerfully how narrowly he had twice that day escaped being murdered.
Would he have to sit up all that night and wait for them to come again, or was Le Chiffre even now on his way to Le Havre or Bordeaux to pick up a boat for some corner of the world where he could escape the eyes and guns of SMERSH?
Bond shrugged his shoulders. Sufficient unto that day had been its evil. He wanted her cold and arrogant body. He turned away and took out of his pocket the cheque for forty million francs.
He folded this very small. Then he opened the door and looked up and down the corridor. He left the door wide open and with his ears cocked for footsteps or the sound of the lift, he set to work with a small screwdriver.
Five minutes later he gave a last-minute survey to his handiwork, put some fresh cigarettes in his case, closed and locked the door, and went off down the corridor and across the hall and out into the moonlight.
The night club was small and dark, lit only by candles in gilded candelabra whose warm light was repeated in wall mirrors set in more gold picture-frames.
The walls were covered in dark red satin, and the chairs and banquettes in matching red plush. Seduction dripped on the quietly throbbing air.
It seemed to Bond that every couple must be touching with passion under the tables. They were given a corner table near the door.
Bond ordered a bottle of Veuve Clicquot and scrambled eggs and bacon. They sat for a time listening to the music, and then Bond turned to Vesper: She seemed to be listening carefully to the music.
One elbow rested on the table, and her hand supported her chin, but on the back of her hand and not on the palm; and Bond noticed that her knuckles showed white as if her fist was tightly clenched.
Bond noticed these small things because he felt in- tensely aware of her and because he wanted to draw her into his own feeling of warmth and relaxed sensuality.
But he accepted her reserve. He thought it came from a desire to protect herself from him, or else it was her reaction to his coolness to her earlier in the evening, his deliberate coolness, which he knew had been taken as a rebuff.
He drank champagne and talked a little about the happenings of the day and about the per- sonalities of Mathis and Leiter and about the possible consequences for Le Chiffre.
He was discreet, and he only talked about the aspects of the case on which she must have been briefed by London. They could not believe that anything would be attempted in the Casino itself.
Di- rectly Bond and Leiter had left to walk over to the hotel, she had telephoned Paris and told M. She had had to speak guardedly, and the agent had rung off without comment.
She had been told to do this whatever the result. This was all she said. She sipped at her champagne and rarely glanced at Bond. He drank a lot of champagne and ordered another bottle.
The scrambled eggs came, and they ate in silence. He handed her a note which she took and read hastily. Then perhaps we could go home.
He sat down and lit a cigarette. He sud- denly realized that he was tired. The stuffiness of the room hit him as it had hit him in the Casino in the early hours of the previous day.
He called for the bill and took a last mouthful of champagne. It tasted bitter, as the first glass too many always does. Suddenly the note to Vesper seemed odd to him.
He would have asked them both to join him at the bar of the Casino, or he would have joined them in the night club, whatever his clothes. They would have laughed together, and Mathis would have been excited.
He had much to tell Bond, more than Bond had to tell him: He hastily paid the bill, not waiting for the change.
He hurried through the gaming-room and looked carefully up and down the long entrance hall. He cursed and quickened his step. There were only one or two of- ficials and two or three men and women in evening clothes getting their things at the vestiaire.
He was almost running. He got to the entrance and looked along the steps to the left and right down and amongst the few remaining cars.
The commissionaire came towards him. He was halfway down when he heard a faint cry, then the slam of a door away to the right.
With a harsh growl and stutter from the exhaust a beetle-browed Citroen shot out of the shadows into the light of the moon, its front- wheel drive dry-skidding through the loose pebbles of the forecourt.
Its tail rocked on its soft springs as if a violent struggle was taking place on the back seat. With a snarl it raced out to the wide entrance gate in a spray of gravel.
He ran back with it across the gravel to the brightly lit steps and scrabbled through its contents while the com- missionaire hovered round him.
The crumpled note was there amongst the usual feminine baggage: I have news for your companion. Bond leapt for the Bentley, blessing the impulse , which had made him drive it over after dinner.
With the choke full out the engine answered at once to the starter, and the roar drowned the faltering words of the com- missionaire who jumped aside as the rear wheels whipped gravel at his piped trouser-legs.
As the car rocked to the left outside the gate, Bond ruefully longed for the front-wheel drive and low chassis of the Citroen.
Then he went fast through the gears and settled himself for the pursuit, briefly savouring the echo of the huge exhaust as it came back at him from either side of the short main street through the town.
He pushed the revs up and up, hurrying the car to eighty then to. He knew the Citroen must have come this way. He had heard the exhaust penetrate beyond the town, and a little dust still hung on the bends.
He hoped soon to see the distant shaft of its headlights. The night was still and clear. Only out at sea there must be a light summer mist, for at intervals he could hear the foghorns lowing like iron cattle down the coast.
As he drove, whipping the car faster and faster through the night, with the other half of his mind he cursed Vesper, and M. This was just what he had been afraid of.
And now for this to happen to him, just when the job had come off so beautifully: The idea was a straight swap. The girl against his cheque for forty million.
She was in the Service and knew what she was up against. This job was more important than her. It was just too bad.
He would try and catch the Citroen and shoot it out with them; and if she got shot in the process that was too bad too. The next morning he would ask Mathis what had happened to her and show him the note.
The girl would just have to take it. If the com- missionaire came along with the story of what he had seen, Bond would bluff it out by saying he had had a drunken row with the girl.
Then the revolutions mounted until he was past and on to the m. He knew he must be gaining fast. Loaded as she was, the Citroen could hardly better eighty even on this road.
On an impulse he slowed down to seventy, turned on his foglights, and dowsed the twin-Marchals. Sure enough, without the blinding curtain of his own lights, he could see the glow of another car a mile or two down the coast.
He felt under the dashboard and from a concealed holster took out a long- barrelled Colt Army Special.
With this, if he was lucky with the surface of the road, he could hope to get their tyres or their petrol tank at anything up to a hun- dred yards. Then he switched on the big lights again and screamed off in pursuit.
He felt calm and at ease. His face in the blue light from the dashboard was grim but serene. Ahead in the Citroen there were three men and the girl.
Le Chiffre was driving, his big fluid body hunched forward, his hands light and delicate on the wheel. Beside him sat the squat man who had carried the stick in the Casino.
In his left hand he grasped a thick lever which protruded beside him almost level with the floor. In the back seat was the tall thin gunman.
He lay back, relaxed, gazing at the ceiling, apparently uninterested in the wild speed of the car.