James Bond got back to his hotel room at midnight. The windows were closed and the air-conditioning was on. Bond switched it off and opened the windows. His heart was still thumping in his chest. He breathed in the air with relief, then he had a shower and went to bed.
At 3.30 he was dreaming, not very peacefully, of three black-coated men with red eyes and angry white teeth. Suddenly, he woke up. He listened. There was a noise. It was comming from the window. Someone was moving behind the curtain. James Bond took his gun from under his pillow, got quietly out of bed, and crept slowly along the wall towards the window. Someone was breathing heavily behind the curtain. Bond pulled it back with one quick movement. Golden hair shone in the moonlight.
‘Mary Goodnight!’ Bond cursed. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’
‘Quick, James! Help me in!’ Mary whispered urgently.
Bond put down his gun and tried to pull her through the open window. At the last moment the window banged shut with a noise like a gunshot. Bond cursed again.
Mary Goodnight whispered, ‘I’m terribly sorry, James!’
‘Sh! Sh! said Bond. He quickly led her across the room to the bathroom. First he turned on the light, then the shower. They sat down together on the side of the bath.
Bond asked again. ‘What the hell are you doing here? What’s the matter?’
‘James, I was so worried, A ‘Most Immediate’ message came from HQ this evening. A top KGB man, using the name Hendriks, is staying in this hotel. He knows you’re here. He’s looking for you!’
‘I know,’ said Bond. ‘Hendriks is here all right. So is a gunman called Scaramanga. Mary, did HQ say if they have a description of me?’
‘No, they don’t. They just have your name, Secret Agent James Bond.’
‘Thanks, Mary. Now, I must get you out of here. Don’t worry about me, just tell HQ that you gave me the message, OK?’
‘OK, James.’ Mary Goodnight stood up and looked into his eyes. ‘Please take care, James.’
‘Sure, sure.’ Bond turned off the shower and opened the bathroom door. ‘Now, come on!’
Suddenly a voice came from the darkness of the bedroom. ‘This is not your lucky day, Mr Bond. Come here both of you and put your hands up!’
Scaramanga walked to the door and turned on the lights. His golden gun was pointing straight at James Bond.