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by
Ian Fleming
Read between
August 16 - August 17, 2020
Bond had accused M. of using him as a tool. Naturally. Every officer in the Service was a tool for one secret purpose or another. The problem on hand could only be solved by a killing.
a youth of hot-blooded stock whose subconscious had been so deeply lacerated.
WHEN HE arrives at a place on a dark night, particularly in an alien land which he has never seen before – a strange house, perhaps, or an hotel – even the most alert man is assailed by the confused sensations of the meanest tourist.