Read Online Moonraker by Ian Fleming - Free Book Online
Authors: Ian Fleming
Tags: Fiction, General, thriller, Action & Adventure, Mystery & Detective, Espionage, Intelligence Officers, Men's Adventure, Fiction - Espionage, Intrigue, spy stories, James (Fictitious character), James (Fictitious charac, Bond, Bond; James (Fictitious character), 20th Century English Novel And Short Story, Strategic weapons systems, Kent (England)
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thing, sir,” he said. “When the time comes, I shall take a white handerchief out of my coat pocket. That will mean that you are about to be dealt a Yarborough. Would you please leave the bidding of that hand to me?”
Moonraker
CHAPTER VI
CARDS WITH A STRANGER
DRAX and Meyer were waiting for them. They were leaning back in their chairs, smoking Cabinet Havanas.
On the small tables beside them there was coffee and large balloons of brandy. As M. and Bond came up, Drax was tearing the paper cover off a new pack of cards. The other pack was fanned out across the green baize in front of him.
“Ah, there you are,” said Drax. He leant forward and cut a card. They all followed suit. Drax won the cut and elected to stay where he was and take the red cards.
Bond sat down on Drax’s left.
M. beckoned to a passing waiter. “Coffee and the club brandy,” he said. He took out a thin black cheroot and offered one to Bond who accepted it. Then he picked up the red cards and started to shuffle them.
“Stakes?” asked Drax, looking at M. “One and One? Or more? I’ll be glad to accommodate you up to Five and Five.”
“One and One’ll be enough for me,” said M. “James?”
Drax cut in, “I suppose your guest knows what he’s in for?” he asked sharply.
Bond answered for M. “Yes,” he said briefly. He smiled at Drax. “And I feel rather generous tonight What would you like to take off me?”
“Every penny you’ve got,” said Drax cheerfully. “How much can you afford?”
“I’ll tell you when there’s none left,” said Bond. He suddenly decided to be ruthless. “I’m told that Five and Five is your limit. Let’s play for that.”
Almost before the words were out of his mouth he regretted them. £50 a hundred! £500 side-bets! Four bad rubbers would be double his income for a year. If something went wrong he’d look pretty stupid. Have to borrow from M. And M. wasn’t a particularly rich man. Suddenly he saw that this ridiculous game might end in a very nasty mess. He felt the prickle of sweat on his forehead. That damned benzedrine. And, for him of all people to allow himself to be needled by a blustering loud-mouthed bastard like Drax. And’ he wasn’t even on a job. The whole evening was a bit of a social pantomime that meant less than nothing to him. Even M. had only been dragged into it by chance. And all of a sudden he’d let himself be swept up into a duel with this multi-millionaire, into a gamble for literally all Bond possessed, for the simple reason that the man had got filthy manners and he’d wanted to teach him a lesson. And supposing the lesson didn’t come off? Bond cursed himself for an impulse that earlier in the day would have seemed unthinkable. Champagne and benzedrine! Never again.
Drax was looking at him in sarcastic disbelief. He turned to M. who was still unconcernedly shuffling the cards. “I suppose your guest is good for his commitments,” he said. Unforgivably.
Bond saw the bloods rush up M.’s neck and into his face. M. paused for an instant in his shuffling. When he continued Bond noticed that his hands were quite calm. M. looked up and took the cheroot very deliberately out from between his teeth. His voice was perfectly controlled. “If you mean ‘Am I good for my guest’s commitments’,” he said coldly, “the answer is yes.”
He cut the cards to Drax with his left hand and with his right knocked the ash off his cheroot into the copper ashtray in the corner of the table. Bond heard the faint hiss as the burning ash hit the water.
Drax squinted sideways at M. He picked up the cards. “Of course, of course,” he said hastily. “I didn’t mean…” He left the sentence unfinished and turned to Bond. “Right, then,” he said, looking rather curiously at Bond. “Five and Five it is. Meyer,” he turned to his partner, “how much would you like to take? There’s Six and Six to cut up.”
“One and One’s enough for me, Hugger,” said Meyer
Moonraker
CHAPTER VI
CARDS WITH A STRANGER
DRAX and Meyer were waiting for them. They were leaning back in their chairs, smoking Cabinet Havanas.
On the small tables beside them there was coffee and large balloons of brandy. As M. and Bond came up, Drax was tearing the paper cover off a new pack of cards. The other pack was fanned out across the green baize in front of him.
“Ah, there you are,” said Drax. He leant forward and cut a card. They all followed suit. Drax won the cut and elected to stay where he was and take the red cards.
Bond sat down on Drax’s left.
M. beckoned to a passing waiter. “Coffee and the club brandy,” he said. He took out a thin black cheroot and offered one to Bond who accepted it. Then he picked up the red cards and started to shuffle them.
“Stakes?” asked Drax, looking at M. “One and One? Or more? I’ll be glad to accommodate you up to Five and Five.”
“One and One’ll be enough for me,” said M. “James?”
Drax cut in, “I suppose your guest knows what he’s in for?” he asked sharply.
Bond answered for M. “Yes,” he said briefly. He smiled at Drax. “And I feel rather generous tonight What would you like to take off me?”
“Every penny you’ve got,” said Drax cheerfully. “How much can you afford?”
“I’ll tell you when there’s none left,” said Bond. He suddenly decided to be ruthless. “I’m told that Five and Five is your limit. Let’s play for that.”
Almost before the words were out of his mouth he regretted them. £50 a hundred! £500 side-bets! Four bad rubbers would be double his income for a year. If something went wrong he’d look pretty stupid. Have to borrow from M. And M. wasn’t a particularly rich man. Suddenly he saw that this ridiculous game might end in a very nasty mess. He felt the prickle of sweat on his forehead. That damned benzedrine. And, for him of all people to allow himself to be needled by a blustering loud-mouthed bastard like Drax. And’ he wasn’t even on a job. The whole evening was a bit of a social pantomime that meant less than nothing to him. Even M. had only been dragged into it by chance. And all of a sudden he’d let himself be swept up into a duel with this multi-millionaire, into a gamble for literally all Bond possessed, for the simple reason that the man had got filthy manners and he’d wanted to teach him a lesson. And supposing the lesson didn’t come off? Bond cursed himself for an impulse that earlier in the day would have seemed unthinkable. Champagne and benzedrine! Never again.
Drax was looking at him in sarcastic disbelief. He turned to M. who was still unconcernedly shuffling the cards. “I suppose your guest is good for his commitments,” he said. Unforgivably.
Bond saw the bloods rush up M.’s neck and into his face. M. paused for an instant in his shuffling. When he continued Bond noticed that his hands were quite calm. M. looked up and took the cheroot very deliberately out from between his teeth. His voice was perfectly controlled. “If you mean ‘Am I good for my guest’s commitments’,” he said coldly, “the answer is yes.”
He cut the cards to Drax with his left hand and with his right knocked the ash off his cheroot into the copper ashtray in the corner of the table. Bond heard the faint hiss as the burning ash hit the water.
Drax squinted sideways at M. He picked up the cards. “Of course, of course,” he said hastily. “I didn’t mean…” He left the sentence unfinished and turned to Bond. “Right, then,” he said, looking rather curiously at Bond. “Five and Five it is. Meyer,” he turned to his partner, “how much would you like to take? There’s Six and Six to cut up.”
“One and One’s enough for me, Hugger,” said Meyer
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