iam fleming.for your eyes only-第3部分

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　〃Five　years。　This　is　my　first　time　with　a　Station。〃
　〃How　do　you　like　it？〃
　〃I　like　the　work　all　right。　The　evenings　and　days　off　drag　a　bit。　It's　not　easy　to　make　friends　in　Paris　without〃　…　her　mouth　turned　down　with　irony　…　〃without　all　the　rest。　I　mean；〃　she　hastened　to　add；　〃I'm　not　a　prude　and　all　that；　but　somehow　the　French　make　the　whole　business　such　a　bore。　I　mean　I've　had　to　give　up　taking　the　Metro　or　buses。　Whatever　time　of　day　it　is；　you　end　up　with　your　behind　black　and　blue。〃　She　laughed。　〃Apart　from　the　boredom　of　it　and　not　knowing　what　to　say　to　the　man；　some　of　the　pinches　really　hurt。　It's　the　limit。　So　to　get　around　I　bought　this　car　cheap；　and　other　cars　seem　to　keep　out　of　my　way。　As　long　as　you　don't　catch　the　other　driver's　eye；　you　can　take　on　even　the　meanest　of　them。　They're　afraid　you　haven't　seen　them。　And　they're　worried　by　the　bashed…about　look　of　the　car。　They　give　you　a　wide　berth。〃
　They　had　e　to　the　Rond　Point。　As　if　to　demonstrate　her　theory；　she　tore　round　it　and　went　straight　at　the　line　of　traffic　ing　up　from　the　Place　de　la　Concorde。　Miraculously　it　divided　and　let　her　through　into　the　Avenue　Matignon。
　Bond　said：　〃Pretty　good。　But　don't　make　it　a　habit。　There　may　be　some　French　Mary　Anns　about。〃
　She　laughed。　She　turned　into　the　Avenue　Gabrielle　and　pulled　up　outside　the　Paris　headquarters　of　the　Secret　Service：　〃I　only　try　that　sort　of　man？uvre　in　the　line　of　duty。〃
　Bond　got　out　and　came　round　to　her　side　of　the　car。　He　said：　〃Well；　thanks　for　picking　me　up。　When　this　whirl　is　over；　can　I　pick　you　up　in　exchange？　I　don't　get　the　pinches；　but　I'm　just　as　bored　in　Paris　as　you　are。〃
　Her　eyes　were　blue　and　wide　apart。　They　searched　his。　She　said　seriously：　〃I'd　like　that。　The　switchboard　here　can　always　find　me。〃
　Bond　reached　in　through　the　window　and　pressed　the　hand　on　the　wheel。　He　said　〃Good；〃　and　turned　and　walked　quickly　in　through　the　archway。
　Wing　mander　Rattray；　Head　of　Station　F；　was　a　fattish　man　with　pink　cheeks　and　fair　hair　brushed　straight　back。　He　dressed　in　a　mannered　fashion　with　turned…back　cuffs　and　double　slits　to　his　coat；　bow…ties　and　fancy　waistcoats。　He　made　a　good…living；　wine…and…food…society　impression　in　which　only　the　slow；　rather　cunning　blue　eyes　struck　a　false　note。　He　chain…smoked　Gauloises　and　his　office　stank　of　them。　He　greeted　Bond　with　relief。　〃Who　found　you？〃
　〃Russell。　At　Fouquet's。　Is　she　new？〃
　〃Six　months。　She's　a　good　one。　But　take　a　pew。　There's　the　hell　of　a　flap　on　and　I've　got　to　brief　you　and　get　you　going。〃　He　bent　to　his　inter　and　pressed　down　a　switch。　〃Signal　to　M；　please。　Personal　from　Head　of　Station。　'Located　007　briefing　now。'　Okay？〃　He　let　go　the　switch。
　Bond　pulled　a　chair　over　by　the　open　window　to　keep　away　from　the　fog　of　Gauloises。　The　traffic　on　the　Champs…Elysées　was　a　soft　roar　in　the　background。　Half　an　hour　before　he　had　been　fed　up　with　Paris；　glad　to　be　going。　Now　he　hoped　he　would　be　staying。
　Head　of　F　said：　〃Somebody　got　our　dawn　dispatch…rider　from　SHAPE　to　the　St　Germain　Station　yesterday　morning。　The　weekly　run　from　the　SHAPE　Intelligence　Division　with　the　Summaries；　Joint　Intelligence　papers；　Iron　Curtain　Order　of　Battle　…　all　the　top　gen。　One　shot　in　the　back。　Took　his　dispatch…case　and　his　wallet　and　watch。〃
　Bond　said：　〃That's　bad。　No　chance　that　it　was　an　ordinary　hold…up？　Or　do　they　think　the　wallet　and　watch　were　cover？〃
　〃SHAPE　Security　can't　make　up　their　minds。　On　the　whole　they　guess　it　was　cover。　Seven　o'clock　in　the　morning's　a　rum　time　for　a　hold…up。　But　you　can　argue　it　out　with　them　when　you　get　down　there。　M's　sending　you　as　his　personal　representative。　He's　worried　as　hell。　Apart　from　the　loss　of　the　Intelligence　dope；　their　I。　people　have　never　liked　having　one　of　our　Stations　outside　the　Reservation　so　to　speak。　For　years　they've　been　trying　to　get　the　St　Germain　unit　incorporated　in　the　SHAPE　Intelligence　set…up。　But　you　know　what　M　is；　independent　old　devil。　He's　never　been　happy　about　NATO　Security。　Why；　right　in　the　SHAPE　Intelligence　Division　there　are　not　only　a　couple　of　Frenchmen　and　an　Italian；　but　the　head　of　their　Counter　Intelligence　and　Security　section　is　a　German！〃
　Bond　whistled。
　〃The　trouble　is　that　this　damnable　business　is　all　SHAPE　needs　to　bring　M　to　heel。　Anyway；　he　says　you're　to　get　down　there　right　away。　I've　fixed　up　clearance　for　you。　Got　the　passes。　You're　to　report　to　Colonel　Schreiber；　Headquarters　mand　Security　Branch。　American。　Efficient　chap。　He's　been　handling　the　thing　from　the　beginning。　As　far　as　I　can　gather；　he's　already　done　just　about　all　there　was　to　be　done。〃
　〃What's　he　done？　What　actually　happened？〃
　Head　of　F　picked　up　a　map　from　his　desk　and　walked　over　with　it。　It　was　the　big…scale　Michelin　Environs　de　Paris。　He　pointed　with　a　pencil。　〃Here's　Versailles；　and　here；　just　north　of　the　park；　is　the　big　junction　of　the　Paris…Mantes　and　the　Versailles　autoroutes。　A　couple　of　hundred　yards　north　of　that；　on　N184；　is　SHAPE。　Every　Wednesday；　at　seven　in　the　morning；　a　Special　Services　dispatch…rider　leaves　SHAPE　with　the　weekly　Intelligence　stuff　I　told　you　about。　He　has　to　get　to　this　little　village　called　Fourqueux；　just　outside　St　Germain；　deliver　his　stuff　to　the　duty　officer　at　our　HQ；　and　report　back　to　SHAPE　by　seven…thirty。　Rather　than　go　through　all　this　built…up　area；　for　security　reasons　his　orders　are　to　take　this　N307　to　St　Nom；　turn　right…handed　on　to　D98　and　go　under　the　autoroute　and　through　the　forest　of　St　Germain。　The　distance　is　about　twelve　kilometres；　and　taking　it　easy　he'll　do　the　trip　in　under　a　quarter　of　an　hour。　Well；　yesterday　it　was　a　corporal　from　the　Corps　of　Signals；　good　solid　man　called　Bates；　and　when　he　hadn't　reported　back　to　SHAPE　by　seven…forty…five　they　sent　another　rider　to　look　for　him。　Not　a　trace；　and　he　hadn't　reported　at　our　HQ。　By　eight…fifteen　the　Security　Branch　was　on　the　job；　and　by　nine　the　roadblocks　were　up。　The　police　and　the　Deuxième　were　told　and　search　parties　got　under　way。　The　dogs　found　him；　but　not　till　the　evening　around　six；　and　by　that　time　if　there　had　been　any　clues　on　the　road　they'd　have　been　wiped　out　by　the　traffic。〃　Head　of　F　handed　the　map　to　Bond　and　walked　back　to　his　desk。　〃And　that's　about　the　lot；　except　that　all　the　usual　steps　have　been　taken　…　frontiers；　ports；　aerodromes　and　so　forth。　But　that　sort　of　thing　won't　help。　If　it　was　a　professional　job；　whoever　did　it　could　have　had　the　stuff　out　of　the　country　by　midday　or　into　an　embassy　in　Paris　inside　an　hour。〃
　Bond　said　impatiently：　〃Exactly！　And　so　what　the　hell　does　M　expect　me　to　do？　Tell　SHAPE　Security　to　do　it　all　over　again；　but　better？　This　sort　of　thing　isn't　my　line　at　all。　Bloody　waste　of　time。〃
　Head　of　F　smiled　sympathetically。　〃Matter　of　fact　I　put　much　the　same　point　of　view　to　M　over　the　scrambler。　Tactfully。　The　old　man　was　quite　reasonable。　Said　he　wanted　to　show　SHAPE　he　was　taking　the　business　just　as　seriously　as　they　were。　You　happened　to　be　available　and　more　or　less　on　the　spot；　and　he　said　you　had　the　sort　of　mind　that　might　pick　up　the　invisible　factor。　I　asked　him　what　he　meant；　and　he　said　that　at　all　closely　guarded　headquarters　there's　bound　to　be　an　invisible　man　…　a　man　everyone　takes　so　much　for　granted　that　he　just　isn't　noticed　…　gardener；　window　cleaner；　postman。　I　said　that　SHAPE　had　thought　of　that；　and　that　all　those　sort　of　jobs　were　done　by　enlisted　men。　M　told　me　not　to　be　so　literal…minded　and　hung　up。〃
　Bond　laughed。　He　could　see　M's　frown　and　hear　the　crusty　voice。　He　said：　〃All　right；　then。　I'll　see　what　I　can　do。　Who　do　I　report　back　to？〃
　〃Here。　M　doesn't　want　the　St　Germain　unit　to　get　involved。　Anything　you　have　to　say　I'll　put　straight　on　the　printer　to　London。　But　I　may　not　be　available　when　you　call　up。　I'll　make　someone　your　duty　officer　and　you'll　be　able　to　get　them　any　time　in　the　twenty…four　hours。　Russell　can　do　it。　She　picked　you　up。　She　might　as　well　carry　you。　Suit　you？〃
　〃Yes；〃　said　Bond。　〃That'll　be　all　right。〃
　The　battered　Peugeot；　mandeered　by　Rattray；　smelled　of　her。　There　were　bits　of　her　in　the　glove　partment　…　half　a　packet　of　Suchard　milk　chocolate；　a　twist　of　paper　containing　bobby　pins；　a　paperbac