Raymond Benson - The World Is Not Enough

‘Where’s the fire, Double-0—?’ Boothroyd asked, but Bond was already gone.

He rounded a comer, took a flight of stairs three steps at a time, and bolted into the security area. ‘Stop! King!’ he shouted.

But the call was muffled where King was walking. His mind was so focused on the money that even he didn't hear the serene hum which his lapel pin began to emit.

Bond reached the lower corridor’s open doorway just as a massive explosion rocked the building, and all hell broke loose. Fire blasted out of the corridor, knocking Bond back and to the floor. The entire structure shook for a moment as a lower tier gave way, its roof and a wall collapsing amidst the smoke and flames.

Giulietta the cigar girl sat in a Sunseeker Hawk 34 at the edge of the Thames, eyeing the destruction that was caused by the little device that Renard had created. The fools at MI6 had fallen for it, hook, line and sinker. She picked up the FN FAL sniper rifle and lined up the infra-red telescopic sight on the billow of dark smoke that was pouring out of the hole in the building.

Just as Renard had predicted, James Bond stumbled out of the wreckage, peering around and attempting to find the source of the mayhem. She took careful ami and activated the laser.

Bond coughed and rubbed smoke from his eyes, shaken from the blast but unharmed. But Sir Robert and a small section of SIS headquarters had vanished in the blink of an eye. The culprits had to be nearby, watching.

He waved the smoke away and then noticed the wand of red light pointing at his chest. Instinctively he dived for cover just as the powerful, high velocity bullets blanketed the area. He crawled behind a stone wall, drew the Walther and prepared to return fire. He scanned the area but the bullets continued to fly over his head. Bond snaked on his belly a little further out so that he could see more clearly.

She was on a sleek high-tech boat, approximately a hundred yards from the shore. He immediately recognised her as the girl from Bilbao.

Realising that she had Med to kill the MI6 agent, Giulietta’s only goal now was to get out of there alive. She dropped the rifle and gunned the engines, speeding off down the river.

Determined, Bond jumped up and raced back into the wreckage and chaos that the building had become. Q was not going to like it, but there was only one thing to do.

The Q Branch boat had been lowered into the tank, temporarily forgotten, and now Major Boothroyd and his men were busy checking reports of damage, sounding alarms and sealing off passages. They didn't notice James Bond as he ran into the room and leapt into the boat.

Bond stared at the mystifying number of buttons and gadgets on the console, gambled and pressed a red button. The engine roared, and the boat shot out of its berth.

Boothroyd looked up in horror. ‘Wait! It's not finished!’

The vessel, a one-man sprint boat that was compact, slim- lined and built from scratch, soared out of the SIS rubble and into the Thames. The craft was lightweight and very sensitive to Bond’s guidance. It spun around in the water, out of control, but Bond gripped the steering wheel and pulled it hard to the right. The boat levelled out, but its momentum nearly caused it to capsize. It took Bond approximately twenty seconds to get the feel of the controls, and then he steered the boat in the direction of the escaping assassin. He revved the engine and tore through thie water after her.

Giulietta could see Bond's boat in a side mirror. He was gaining fast. She pushed her own engines to the limit, roaring to a new level of speed. The Hawk 34 was a luxury vessel capable of fifty-four knots, but Giulietta found that the boat’s many extras - a full camper/suntop and tonneau, wetbar, refrigerator — were a liability now. It was meant to be a pleasure cruiser, not an escape boat. Still, the craft propelled through the water with immense power and strength. Giulietta thought that perhaps she could use the sheer size of thie boat to her advantage.

Bond shot past two police boats that immediately sounded alarms and gave chase behind the bizarre arrowhead-shaped green vessel. Police car sirens were already wailing along the embankment; some emergency vehicles headed toward the SIS building, others following the boat chase from the shore.

There were a surprising number of boats on the Thames. The cigar girl weaved in and out, almost ramming a small speedboat in the process. Bond was losing ground, but in a bid to keep pace, he corralled the boat into a hair-raising short cut, shooting underneath a pier. He was barely able to manoeuvre the boat under it, but luckily he emerged even closer to his prey.

Enough is enough, the girl thought. She killed the motor, moved to the back of the boat and pulled a tarpaulin off a rear- mounted machine gun. She snapped on the belt, took aim at Bond and fired.

The Q Boat continued at full speed, now up to nearly seventy knots. The bullets bounced off the chobam armour plating that Bond knew covered the surface. He set his jaw and kept going, heading straight for her.

The girl remained calm and cool, shooting with precision. Why weren’t the bullets penetrating? He was getting closer . . . closer . . .

Her eyes widened when she realised his boat was not going to stop. She let out a small scream and hit the deck as Bond steered his boat right over the machine gun and turret, using the girl's boat as a ramp. The Q Boat launched into the air, then dived, nose-first, into the Thames.

She raised herself in time to see Bond turning the little powerhouse to close in for the kill. She scrambled to the helm, fired the engine again, and sped toward Tower Bridge, which was just beginning to open to allow for the passage of a small freighter.

Bond lagged behind, impeded by the influx of heavy traffic on the water. He watched helplessly as her boat was lost in the distance. Desperate, he looked around him and saw that a shore-side fish market was not far to his left. Gritting his teeth, he cranked the wheel and veered off, up a slip way and onto the embankment. The ingenuity of the Q Boat design allowed it to hydroplane on the pavement, propelling him through the market and into a busy London street. Pedestrians screamed and jumped out of the way as he wrestled with the controls, jetting off the street and straight toward a riverside restaurant full of people.

The boat crashed through the side of the restaurant, sending diners leaping in every direction. Waiters shouted at him, but before they knew what had happened, Bond’s boat had sprung out over a balcony and splashed down once more into the Thames.

She was back in his sights.

Giulietta turned back, amazed that Bond had managed to overtake her. She bore down and kept going.

The racing boats sliced through an armada of lazy, overloaded barges, barely missing one and sending a small tidal wave over another. Then they were at an even pace. Giulietta attempted to force her way past him, but Bond punched some buttons on the console of the Q Boat and released a set of catapulting flame canisters. They shot out ahead, creating a massive wall of fire in front of them.

Giulictta swerved her boat out of the way just in time and was forced to turn toward the very edge of the river. She knew the chase was nearly over and that she had lost, but then she saw the huge, colourful hot air balloon looming in the sky in front of her.

Their boats were now only yards away from the Millennium Dome. A crowd of people was gathered around the balloon, which was apparently about to launch. She skidded her vessel to a stop at the nearby pier and quickly scrambled out.

A flamboyant, wealthy celebrity was preparing to climb into the basket of the balloon. He waved to the crowd and smiled for the cameras, but Giulietta pushed through and leapt into the basket.