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M sal。 silent； for a full minute。 'We need hard intelligence。 Chief of Staff。 Hard as nails。 But； if it serves the purpose； tell Dragontooth to be utterly ruthless。 Our contacts with the Italians are still holding up？'
'No problem there； sir。'
'Right。 Ruthless if necessary。 And there's another order 。 。 。' He spoke to Tanner for ten minutes； giving him detailed instructions。 Then； with a sharp。 'Keep me informed；' M closed the line； wondering why； of all the agents under his mand； he worried most about 007。 Was he the son the old man had always wanted？ Difficult。 Something not to be dwelt upon。
Behind the rise and fall of Wassail。' Wassail！ he heard his daughter's car crunch on （he gravel outside。 Banishing all thoughts of what was probably going on far away in Ischia； M fashioned a smile of greeting and went to the door。
They trimmed the little tree with the cheap and gaudy things bought in the Forio market； prepared everything for tomorrow's dinner and settled down for a light snack of a soup that Beatrice had put together quickly； and allowed to simmer while they were dealing with the tree。 There was also bread and a choice of a dozen cheeses； washed down with a bottle of good local wine。 Afterwards； Bond stretched out in an easy chair； with Beatrice resting her back against his legs； while his arm caressed her shoulder； occasionally dropping to finger one of her breasts。
He had purposely not asked her anything about her contact with London。 Now he thought the time was right。 'What was their reaction？'
'Whose？'
'London's reaction to the Pennington girl being around。'
She twisted her body so that she could look up at him。 'Better you shouldn't know。 It'll all be taken care of。 James。 It's under control。'
He nodded； trying to explain that all this was new to him。 'Normally it's me doing the protection and giving the orders。'
'Well。〃 her voice took on the husky tone he had e to know and appreciate from the previous night； and what had passed between them during the morning。 'Well； James； there are some orders you can give me。〃
'I hadn't noticed it。 You're a pretty dominant young woman。 Even 。 。 。〃
'Even in bed？ I know； but 1 can change all that。 You want to try？'
'Soon。〃 He sounded very relaxed。 'You know； Beatrice。 I think … barring anything going wrong … this is going to be one of the happiest Christmases ever。〃
She took his hand from her shoulder and drew it down to her mouth； kissing it。 nibbling at the vortex between thumb and forefinger； then gently sucking each linger in turn。 At last she asked； 'Until now； what's the best Christmas you can remember？'
Bond grunted and stretched。 'I think the last Christmas I spent with my parents〃 His voice also changed； the sentences delivered haltingly； as though he found it difficult to discuss。 Tm a mongrel as well。 Bea。 Scottish father and Swiss mother。 Christmas in a little chalet on Lago Lugano〃 He gave a laugh； 'Odd that it was the best； because I was ill … just recovering anyway。 Chickenpox； measles； that sort of thing。〃〃
'Why was it the best？'
He gave an almost schoolboyish smile。 〃I got everything I asked for。 They indulged me。 There was an air…pistol； as I recall it〃
'What else？'
'I had to stay in bed； but my father opened the window and
put some tin cans on the ledge。 Let me pot away at them for half an hour or so。 In the evening they both stayed in my room and ate Christmas dinner from trays。 It was different。 A final taste of love。 I'll never forget it。'
'Final？ Why final？'
'My parents were killed； climbing； a few weeks later。'
〃Oh； James。' She seemed shocked； as though regretting she had asked。
LA long time ago Beatrice。 Your turn。 Your best Christmas ever？'
She twisted around and pulled him down from the chair； close to her。 on the floor。 'This Christmas。 I never had great Christmases； James； and I've never had things happen to me so quickly before。 It's 。 。 。 it's all strange。 I don't entirely believe it。' She took his hand and placed it intimately against her。
Bond fumbled in his pocket and brought out the gift…wrapped package。 'Merry Christmas； Beatrice。'
She opened it like a child； tearing the paper from it as （hough she could not wait to see what lay beyond。 When she lifted the lid of the box she gave a little cry。 'Oh。 Oh。 Oh。 my God； James。'
'Like it'？1
She looked up at him and he could see the tears staining her cheeks。
Later； in the darkness of the bedroom； and at a crucial moment； she whispered； 'Merry Christmas； James darling。'
Without thinking。 Bond whispered； 'God bless us； every one。'
Franco； Umberto and the dogs must have done their work well。 Nothing came suddenly to interrupt a blissful night； and when the lovers dropped into sleep they did so with quiet untroubled dreams。
Waking at ten…thirty； Beatrice proved to be highly domesticated and moved around the kitchen with speed； preparing their meal。 Even the Browning 9mm。 tucked into her waistband； did not seem out of place。
They ate chicken； not the traditional turkey。 But it was a huge bird； cooked in some mystic manner which she said had been a secret of her mother's。 The trimmings were in keeping； however； and after the chicken there was a real Christmas pudding； round like those you see in Victorian drawings and very rich； with an outrageously alcoholic brandy sauce。 Then came mince pies and nuts。
'What about the crackers？' Bond asked with a laugh。
'Sorry； my darling。 Couldn't lay my hands on a single Christmas cracker； nor any kind of favour。'
'I think I'll sleep for a week。' Bond stretched his arms and yawned。
'Well； that's not what you're going to do。〃She rose。 'I'm going to let you drive me to the other side of the island； and we're going to walk off the food and let the sea air clear our heads。 e on。' She moved quickly to the front windows； grabbing the keys and sliding them open。 'Race you to the car。'
Bond picked up his Browning； cocked it and settled it in the shoulder holster； then checked that he had the car keys； and followed her。 She had just unlocked the inner gate as he got to the top of the stone steps leading down to it。 'Stop。 Wait for me！' he called； laughing。
She giggled as he ran after her。 heading for the car。 Then Bond stopped； eyes widening with horror。 The main front gates were drawn apart and he shouted 'No！' and again； 'No。 Beatrice！' as he saw her tug at the car door； hardly believing what his eyes and brain told him。 'Beatrice； no！ No！ Don't open 。 。'
But the car door moved and opened。 As it did so； she looked up at him； laughing； happy。 Then the ball of flame erupted from inside the Fiat。 The wind from the explosion hit him a second later； knocking him backwards； making his ears sing； scorching his eyes as the flame leaped from the shattered car。
He reached for the pistol and had it up as someone seized him from behind。
Then life changed。 There were cars and people。 Men in uniform； others in plain cloihes。 Some dashed around to ihc rear of the villa； and through his singing ears。 Bond thought he heard barking； then shots； from the garden。
Somehow he was back in the villa； sitting with the remnants of their Christmas meal still on the table； and a familiar figure was s