FOR YOUR EYES ONLY (1981)
*****************
After the unexpected success of the unofficial Bond film Everything or Nothing, the EON producers feel they need to get even more down to earth than they have before. There is just one problem, however: George Lazenby’s contract as Bond is up following the coming film, and he clearly wants out.
To get him excited for the new production, titled For Your Eyes Only after the 1960 Ian Fleming collection of short stories, producer Albert R. Broccoli calls upon the services of the director who first made Lazenby Bond in the first place, Peter Hunt, to helm the film; overnight, Lazenby’s interest in the making of the film ticks up, and he enjoys production on the film like no other before. In order to finish up the storyline from the previous Lazenby films involving villainous organization CHAOS, EON rehires Michael Billington, the actor who played villain Alexei Vasilev, for the film; it is his final Bond film appearance.
Production is abruptly sped up when Bernard Lee suffers a cancer scare two months before shooting, leaving the producers frantic; if Lazenby leaves right when Lee dies, who will keep continuity as M when they hire a new Bond? To ease matters, writers Michael G. Wilson and Richard Maibaum propose an ingenious solution: They will script the subsequent Bond film, tentatively titled [url="http://<a%20href="http://debrief.commanderbond.net/index.php?showtopic=43464&hl="%20target="_blank">http://debrief.comma...hl=</a>"] Octopussy[/url], in advance, taking the kidnapping aspect of the Kingsley Amis Bond novel Colonel Sun and centering the plot on it, then filming all of Bernard Lee’s scenes for that film (most of them action-oriented, with only a few involving M dormant in Britain) while he still has stamina enough for it. Since Peter Hunt is still hammering out details on FYEO, second-unit director John Glen takes over for Lee’s scenes.
To get around the fact that Lazenby is leaving after FYEO, the producers arrange for his stunt double to stand in for the potential new Bond in all his scenes; more than a year later, the second half of the footage, featuring the new Bond interacting with a Bernard Lee stand-in within all the old sets, will be shot and directed by Peter Hunt. Meanwhile, Lee finishes up for Octopussy by filming his farewell scene. A quick shot in which he lies asleep in a hospice bed is all that is needed from him, but the producers gamble on a little insurance; they audition a great many of the best actors in the world for the role of Bond, using two scenes: The traditional Tatiana Romanova scene and the scene featuring M in the hospital bed. After a full two days of shooting the latter scene, in which such names as James Brolin, Ian Ogilvy, and Timothy Dalton (later to be the Bond successor) gaze mournfully down on a sleeping Bernard Lee, the preliminary shooting for Octopussy is over.
While a frantic three months have been spent shooting Lee’s scenes in and around Pinewoods, the first-unit, led by Peter Hunt, has been in Greece shooting the majority of the film there. With such foreign film luminaries as Klaus Maria Brandauer, Sir Ralph Richardson, and Gabriele Ferzetti (back to play the role he had originated 12 years earlier) populating the cast, the crew had a good time working, and it shows on film. Seizing on popular opinion, the producers also cast Debbie Harry, leading singer in the band Blondie, in a small role in the film. Once all the scenes in Greece are finished, the production moves back to Pinewoods for work on a few interiors considered unfilmable in Greece (including the climactic boat battle with Vasilev), then finally ends production with a cancer-weakened Bernard Lee’s scenes for the film; fittingly, the first scene of the film proves to be the last of his film career. He passes away on August 19, 1981.
All that has to be taken care of now is the score. Composer John Barry is unavailable due to tax exile, but he recommends a friend: Bill Conti, scorer for the famed Rocky films. With his disco influence, he quickly gives the film a style and beat all its own, though his proposed title song is rejected. With EON having already contracted Blondie, the group, although in a trouble phase of their career, still manages to provide possibly the best theme song of the ’80s Bond films.
The film opens on November 11, 1981, and stars George Lazenby as James Bond, Carole Bouquet as Judy Havelock, Klaus Maria Brandauer as Aris Kristatos, Michael Billington as Alexei Vasilev, Gabriele Ferzetti as Marc-Ange Draco, Jack Klaff as Luigi Ferrara, John Finch as Kespar, Walter Gotell as General Gogol, Geoffrey Keen as Sir Fredrick Gray, George Baker as Bill Tanner, F. Murray Abraham as Gonzales, John Rhys-Davies as Major Pushkin, Debbie Harry as Lisl Baum, Sir Ralph Richardson as Sir Jeremy Havelock, and Lois Maxwell as Miss Moneypenny.
The gunbarrel opens up on a large, luxuriant manor – Quarterdeck. Within, M sits at a desk, studying a few forms for the day as he smokes his pipe. After a moment, there is a knock at the door to his office, and Hammond, M’s butler, enters.
HAMMOND: “Sir Miles, there’s someone to see you; he claims it’s urgent.”
M: “Well, what the devil is he on about? Who is the man?”
HAMMOND: “He says his name is… Commander James Bond, sir.”
At this, the pipe drops out of M’s mouth. He is speechless for a moment, then manages to find his voice:
M: “Send him in.”
HAMMOND: “Yes, sir.”
M: “And send a cable to Sir Fredrick Gray; he’ll want to know about this.”
HAMMOND: “Of course, sir.”
We cut to a shot of a plain-suited man sitting in a chair; his face is unseen, and he has a briefcase in one hand as he taps the arm of his chair with the other. The shot switches focus as a door adjacent to the man opens, and Hammond ushers him in. The unknown man eases himself up, clenches his briefcase tighter, and heads in; as he does, there is a dull clunk as a heavy item shifts within the case.
The camera pans as the man, his face still unseen, enters and takes a seat in a lone chair in front of M’s desk. As the view shifts to the back of the man’s head, we catch a glimpse of M’s face, a mixture of surprise and weariness upon it.
M: “Bond.”
BOND: “My dear M, good to see you again.”
As he speaks, the unseen Bond takes out a cigarette from a silver case, lights it, and brings it to his lips, revealing a trim mustache perched upon the upper lip.
M (squinting): “How? How could you survive that shuttle crash? The wreckage--”
BOND: “Sir, it was a simple engagement between myself and gravity; evidently, I won out.”
Bond slips his hand under the rungs of the chair and deposits his cigarette on the rug unseen, then secretly reaches out and slowly turns the combination lock on the case next to him.
M: “I don’t understand: Where were you for three years?”
Bond’s hand pauses upon the case, then continues.
BOND: “Why… upon the Elysian Fields, dear friend.”
M: “What? What are you talking about? I must know—”
Suddenly, there is a commotion outside the door, and angry voices are heard. There is a loud grunt, and Sir Fredrick Gray barges in, accompanied by his guards.
GRAY (angrily): “What in tosh is going on here? You told me—”
With a final twist, the combination comes undone, the case snaps open, and Bond, his face now finally seen, whips around with a nasty pistol pointed toward Gray. One guard sees this and pulls the Minister backwards out of the room, while the other pounces upon Bond, knocking him to the floor. The pistol hits the floor with a bang, sending a bullet hole shearing through a portrait of the Duke of Wellington on the wall. M pulls the guard off of Bond, but the former agent is already unconscious, a trickle of blood slipping across his forehead.
As a shaken M steadies himself, Hammond cautious opens the door to the office.
HAMMOND: “Sir, shall I call the Yard?”
M: “No, call the medics; this man needs attention at once.”
HAMMOND (warily): “Yes, sir.”
As Hammond leaves the office with the guard in stead, M stares remorsefully down upon the battered body of former agent 007; we cut to a shot of Bond splayed unconscious on the floor, then cut to the opening credits as Blondie’s title song starts off with a bang.
OPENING TITLES: Blondie’s For Your Eyes Only plays as the enormous head of Debbie Harry fades in and out throughout the titles lip-synching to the song, while George Lazenby, in various sizes and with various women, runs across the screen, poses menacing with his gun, and has the camera zoom quickly into his eyes when the chorus sounds. The credits end as Bond, the ground evaporating beneath him, falls into the sea…
After the credits, we pan from a long shot of a rocky outcrop in the sea to the back of an elderly man’s head; this is Sir Jeremy Havelock. Sir Jeremy watches the green waters of the Mediterranean and the rocky swells of the Aegean coast from the deck of his yacht; he’s an octogenarian, much respected industrialist who has taken to treasure hunting in his elder years. He is joined by his twenty-year-old adopted daughter, Judy, who we see swimming through the water in a uniquely-patterned swimsuit with an underwater camera before she surfaces and climbs onto the yacht.
Judy tells her grandfather that she’s found the legendary wreck of the Κυρία Μαρία, which excites the old man, as he has spent several years looking for the famed treasure believed to be onboard the ship. Their celebration is watched through binoculars from the deck of another ship, and an unseen man orders the pair to be eliminated.
Later, Judy and her grandfather are dining on the deck of the yacht, when they hear the hum of a helicopter. Judy waves to it, a friendly gesture – but soon ducks for cover when the helicopter begins to strafe the deck. On impulse, Judy grabs her camera and gets off a good picture of the helicopter – before the strafing ignites a fuel tank on the launch being dragged behind the yacht which has a knock-on effect.
The yacht explodes in a fierce fireball, and Judy and her grandfather are flung from the deck and into the water. Jeremy is heavily injured and doesn’t make it back to the shore – but Judy does have the underwater camera in her hands, with the photograph of the helicopter. She watches the helicopter fly off into the misty night, and, as the score kicks in with a dramatic cue, the camera zooms into her eyes, a vengeful gaze spreading upon them.
Back in England, Bond is being fiercely interrogated by a ministry operative in a darkened room as M and Sir Fredrick Gray watch through a two-way mirror outside. After the operative yells and slaps 007, M starts and goes for the door, but Gray stops him, making a motion for him to wait further.
Later on, the operative, along with a psychiatrist, reports to M’s office at Regent’s Park. The operative mentions that Bond seems to have no idea what happened during the three years or even the assassination attempt at Quarterdeck; the psychiatrist responds that Bond has been clearly brainwashed, stating that during his hypnotherapy session with 007, the spy made references to Smolyan, Katia, and the high-ranking Soviet general Aleksandr Gogol, which might mean that Bond has been mentally weakened by the Soviets. The operative states that they cannot let such a potential security risk as Bond fall into enemy hands again; reluctantly, M agrees with this assessment.
We cut to Bond entering M’s outer office, accompanied by a guard and clad in handcuffs. The guard removes Bond’s hat and places it on the coat-hanger, to which Bond can only sigh in disappointment. He turns to Miss Moneypenny, only to see that she is staring at him wide-eyed.
MONEYPENNY: “I just heard about it this morning. I never thought that, in all my born years—”
BOND: “Moneypenny, I—”
She raises a hand, and goes to speak, but the buzzer interrupts her. She turns to it dazedly, then looks back at Bond.
MONEYPENNY (soberly): “Go on in, James; he’s waiting for you.”
Almost ashamedly, Bond looks at the floor and goes in.
Within, M and Sir Fredrick Gray await him; Gray makes a motion, and the guard unclasps Bond’s handcuffs. Bond rubs at his chaffed wrists as M speaks up:
M: “We know you’re not going to do anything; the psychiatrist made that very clear for us.”
BOND (bitterly): “I suppose I’m not here for a knighthood, of course?”
GRAY: “Of course not! You’re here for the briefing!”
BOND (perking up): “Briefing?”
M: “Yes, 007. I’m under orders by the Defense Ministry to give you this assignment, though I’d rather much d—”
Sir Fredrick Gray harrumphs, and M continues:
M: “Just a few days ago, the Foreign Ministry received word of the death of Sir Timothy Havelock, the respected industrialist who had taken to treasure-hunting in the south Aegean for his retirement. Apparently, he and his daughter had found a sea wreck containing 18th century treasure when a helicopter appeared out of nowhere and sank their yacht. Although Sir Jeremy died, his daughter, Judy, was able to provide an account of the sinking as well as a description of the enemy aircraft. Your mission is to find out why he was killed and who would have such motive as to commit the deed.”
BOND: “But, sir, this is only something a trainee would be assigned to, not a full 00-agent!”
M: “I’m afraid that’s why you’re being assigned, 007. This is your last chance, a last-ditch mission, to redeem yourself; if you cannot measure up to the task at hand, then… well, you truly are lost.”
M looks sad and shrunken behind his desk, and Bond looks up from this to glower at Sir Fredrick Gray. As a music cue lingers…
…we cut to the sunny skyline of Greece. A helicopter flies over this panorama; within is Bond. As the helicopter inches further along the coastline, the co-pilot pulls out a pistol and shoots the pilot in the neck, then puts on a parachute, locks the controls, and points the gun at Bond, but Bond shoves the pistol away and grapples with him. In the ensuing struggle, the two clamber up onto the roof of the rapidly sinking helicopter, where the two fight over the parachute. Attempting to grab back the ’chute, the assailant makes a swipe, but Bond pushes him back and up, which sends the man careening into the blades of the helicopter, chopping off his head in a bloody mess. As the decapitated corpse falls over the side, Bond looks down, slips on the parachute, and quips:
BOND: “Looks like he had no head for heights!”
He then leaps and pulls the string to release the parachute as the chopper balloons into a flaming wreck, crashing into the Aegean.
We cut to Bond wrapped in a blanket on the shoreline as a worried crowd gathers, making sure he’s all right. One little kid points to the scar on Bond’s face and asks him about it, but Bond suddenly suffers a terrible flashback of a shadowed man smacking him across the face with a switch. He shudders violently, and the crowd backs away, but a man in a heavy trench coat and hat eases himself through the crowd and leads Bond gently off the beach.
As Bond is led into the man’s car, he asks what his name is; the man replies that his name is Luigi Ferrara, an agent of the Greek special services. He smiles and shows Bond his official card, and 007 is satisfied, but as they drive off, another man, having apparently been unconscious, sits up from the sand, looks dazedly after the car, and shouts as it drives off into town.
The two drive on, and Ferrara points out all the sights to be seen in the town. As they drive by, a large truck, hauling a yacht on wheels, passes them by; Bond asks who the yacht belongs to, and Ferrara says that it is owned by Aris Kristatos, a friend of the Greek government who passes valuable information on rogue Communist forces.
Finally, the car reaches a modest hotel. We cut to the lobby, where Bond enquires to the desk man of his luggage; the desk man replies that it’s already arrived at the hotel by the overland route, and it’s up in Room 337. 007 thanks the man, and, with a hearty handshake, bids Ferrara adieu.
Up in the room, Bond sifts through his luggage. As he idly touches a watch, Q’s voice comes on and begins nattering about the luggage, at which Bond throws the watch at the wall and watches it smash into pieces. He stares at it for a time, and then continues unpacking. He takes a tie out from one corner of the suitcase, then tries to tie it around his neck; when he cannot seem to find the way to do it, he angrily throws it onto the bed.
The camera cuts to an outside shot of this, from the window of the hotel. We pull back to another open window, across the way from Bond, where an unknown man perches on the windowsill with a pair of binoculars. He slightly turns to look at something to his right, and the camera pans down to a beautiful Greek woman, bound and gagged. As she looks up tearfully, the man strokes her cheek and whispers:
MAN: “Soon, dear Katia; soon.”
The next day, Bond arrives at a helicopter firm, armed with papers identifying the chopper that attacked the yacht as belonging to that firm. He pretends to be interested in taking a sky tour of the coast, so he pretends to fill in a form; at this, the receptionist leaves him alone, which allows him to study previous pages, from which he learns that the helicopter was hired by a Hector Gonzales. When the receptionist returns, Bond drops into conversation that his old friend Mr. Gonzales said that the firm came highly recommended – and offers her some extra money to be allowed to take the helicopter out on his own.
The receptionist nods and accepts the money; she remembers Mr. Gonzales, but cheekily mentions that he was a bit rude and that there was some damage to the helicopter when he returned it. Bond nods surreptitiously, but as he leaves, the man from the beach pulls by on a Vespa and begins following him…
Bond takes a day tour to Aeolona, the coastal resort near where Havelock’s boat was sunk, where he takes some food and ends up meeting a beautiful Austro-Swiss anthropologist, Lisl Baum. He nods at the headline in the paper which raves about the loss of Sir Jeremy’s boat – “terrible business”. Lisl agrees, she’s been studying the local area and the Grecian culture, and had met Sir Jeremy and his daughter a handful of times, and tells Bond that he was searching for the legendary treasure aboard the Κυρία Μαρία.
Bond explains that he’s an old geologist friend of Sir Jeremy’s, “from the war …”, and asks if it’s possible whether she could take him out to the site where the yacht went down; he’d like to pay his last respects, in person, so to speak. Lisl agrees, albeit with a bit of reluctance. As Bond leaves to get her a drink, we see the nameless man from the beach park his Vespa and look after Lisl with concern.
We cut to a view of the yacht owned by Kristatos. Onboard, a man picks up a walkie-talkie and listens. Excitedly, he radios back, but as he heads up the stairs to report to his boss, a shadowy figure blocks his way; the light shows him to be none other than Alexei Vasilev. He strides down and asks the man what he’s so excited about; when the man tells him the foreign spy Bond is heading out to the wreck, Vasilev slaps him on the back, then reaches over and breaks the man’s neck.
As he heads down to dispose of the body, his boss, short and blonde, with an air of sliminess to him, asks what’s the matter; Vasilev salutes his boss and addresses him as “mein Herr Kristatos”, revealing to the audience Aris Kristatos for the first time. Vasilev replies that Johansson’s drunk again, and that he’s helping him back to his cabin. Kristatos seems satisfied by the statement and retreats back to his room with a cigar in hand, but Vasilev scowls, drags the body over to the rail, and heaves it over the side. He then picks up Johansson’s walkie-talkie, dials it to a different frequency, and radios for “Señor Gonzales”…
We cut to Bond having a quiet time with Lisl, then show them heading out to the dive site. 007 dives down to the wreckage and pokes around before discovering, for himself, the wreckage of the pirate ship, resplendent with treasure chests and evidence of multiple visits by some modern organization. Bond spins as the spear from a spear gun spins through the water and impales itself on the rotting wood of the pirate ship – after a brief battle with the wielder of the spear gun, Bond escapes to Lisl’s boat, intending to warn her off.
Unfortunately, Lisl’s dead, however, and standing over her is a man who introduces himself to Bond as Gonzales, the man who hired the helicopter. Gonzales points his gun at Bond and escorts the man onto a launch, but before he can finish the deed, an arrow from a crossbow suddenly sprouts from his side, and the hitman falls into the water with a deadened plop.
007 looks around wildly, but the rest of Gonzales’ men are already up in arms after the wielder of the crossbow. Bond kicks at the nearest assailant, then runs behind a wall set up near the shoreline to protect some nuveau riche’s coastal mansion; he only breathes for a moment before a dark shape comes down in front of him from the trees and points a loaded crossbow at his throat.
Unthinkingly, Bond grabs the crossbow away from the figure and punches it, revealing the person to be a young woman under dark clothes – Judy Havelock. 007 scoops her up in his arms and carries her to where Lisl’s car is waiting at the dock. He shoves her in, puts the car in gear, and drives off.
As he drives into the town, Judy stirs. Bond introduces himself, claiming he works for the British government, then says, “I’m sorry about your father; he was a brilliant man, but you shouldn’t just randomly go out on revenge like this. The Chinese have a saying: Before taking revenge, you must first dig two graves. Does any of this mean anything to you?”
When Judy shakes her head, he grits his teeth, but the young Miss Havelock starts laying punches upon him, screaming about her father and her ruined life. Bond swerves onto the side of the road, then gets out of the car and runs off to his hotel; now alone, Judy sits for a moment and begins sobbing.
The next day, 007 is awoken by a call from the hotel receptionist, who tells him that a young lady has been asking for him down in the lobby all morning. Bond quickly sweeps out of bed, shaves, and heads down, but the young lady isn’t Judy; instead, she tells him that Ferrara wants a word with him down by the Café Osanto in a couple of hours. Bond nods his agreement, and the lady vanishes into the street; from this, we pan to a man watching from across the street in binoculars, who turns out to be the man from the beach once again.
A few hours later, Bond walks into the Café Osanto. Ferrara, from over at the bar, gestures over to him, and 007 joins him and shakes his hand. Sitting beside him is a short, blonde, and pale man, with an assortment of ghastly rings covering his fingers. He offers Bond a dead-fish handshake, slimy and limp, then introduces himself as Aris Kristatos. He claims to have reliable information on the shadowy goings-on in Greece, particularly along the coast. The trio withdraws to a table, but a girl sitting at the bar turns her head in their direction; it’s Judy.
At the table, Kristatos makes vague accusations about a shadowy drug lord backed by the Soviets who apparently is known as “the Fox”. Apparently, he traffics in heroin and opium drawn from poppy fields on the Bosphorus, but claims it is used for medicine manufacture to the Third World. They also claim he is head of the biggest crime syndicate in Europe. When Bond, puzzled, asks of whom the men are referring to, they finally give him a name: “Marc-Ange Draco.”
007 grows still. He seems to look inward, then takes a long draught from his whiskey and speaks:
BOND: “I’m sorry, but I can’t take your claims seriously. It’s not that Marc-Ange Draco isn’t a criminal; I know he is one. It’s just that, once you get the sense of a man, you can never believe accusations that ring untrue to his character. I’ve met Marc-Ange; we were friends, of a sort, at one point. I just can’t believe he’d run something so… so diabolical as heroin. That’s not him. As a friend of his, I’m afraid I’ll have to turn down this job.”
He takes a final swig from his glass and excuses himself from the table. As the other two men protest, Judy Havelock follows Bond out of sight…
Later on, Bond retreats to his room. He shuts the door and leans against it for a moment, only to look up in shock as the man we’ve previously seen on the Vespa sits on 007’s bed with a gun pointed at him. He gestures with the pistol for Bond to sit down, which he does, and draws a packet of Morlands from his inner coat pocket.
MAN: “Thought you might like these; they’re your special brand, are they not?”
He tosses them at Bond, who catches the case and opens it; he smiles approvingly at what he finds.
BOND: “Three gold bands and all; you’ve got me pegged, whoever you are.”
The man gets up from the bed and opens the door. He looks both ways down the hallway, then continues talking:
MAN: “I’m sorry we couldn’t meet under more agreeable circumstances, but Kristatos’ man got to you before I could.”
BOND: “Kristatos’ man? What do you mean?”
MAN: “My name is Luigi Ferrara. I’m an agent of the Greek Special Forces. The man you’ve met with has stolen my identity.”
Bond’s eyes widen.
BOND: “So, Kristatos is…”
FERRARA: “A liar? Well, you could say that. He’s only in the position he has because his uncle’s got a cushy job going as the Foreign Minister and nepotism runs rampant here. As far as I’m concerned, the British shouldn’t be trusting their drug war secrets to anyone, especially a low-life like old Aris.”
BOND: “Why should I believe you? True, you’ve given me my favorite cigarettes, but keep in mind the old saying: ‘Beware of Greeks bearing gifts.’”
FERRARA: “I caught some of your conversation with Kristatos and company. If you come with me, I’ll take you to Draco.”
BOND (thunderstruck): “How?”
FERRARA: “Well, we have an old saying, too, Mr. Bond: herkos odonton! That means, it is all behind the dragon’s teeth, and therefore I should not tell you. If you follow me to the docks tonight, I will take you to your old friend Draco.”
BOND: “But what about the fake Ferrara? Shouldn’t we deal with him first?”
FERRARA: “Ah, and that, my dear James – if I may call you that – I have already taken care of. You see, at this very moment, your old friend the imposter is standing outside the door, having responded to a message sent by courier to meet you here – supposedly sent by you, but, in reality, sent by me. Come, let us surprise him.”
Outside, the fake Ferrara, clad in his stolen trench coat, stuffs his hands into its pockets and shifts idly in front of the door. Just then, the door to the room opens, and Bond invites the imposter in with a smile. As the man walks into the middle of the room, however, the real Ferrara jumps forward from behind the door to put the imposter in a headlock. 007 whips out his gun and levels it straight with the faker’s forehead, and the man slowly kneels to the ground.
BOND: “All right, now, the game’s up. Who are you?”
IMPOSTOR: “I – my name is Kespar. I work for Herr Kristatos…”
FERRARA (slapping him across the face): “We know already! Do you have any information useful to us?”
BOND: “Something on a smuggling ring, perhaps?”
KESPAR: “Well…”
FERRARA: “Yes?”
KESPAR: “A week ago, a man arrived; a Colonel Boris. He seemed to be on good terms with Herr Kristatos; presented him with some radio equipment or something…”
BOND: “Radio equipment? What kind?”
KESPAR: “I don’t know. There were some electrodes and a battery; he said it was useful for talking. I think Herr Vasilev knows more about it than I do…”
Bond freezes, but Ferrara does not notice, and presses on:
FERRARA: “He must use it to radio his drug haulers in the Bosporus. Do you have any--?”
BOND (still in shock): “What did you say?”
FERRARA: “Look, James, we don’t have time for this; Draco’s expecting us—”
BOND (grabbing Kespar by his coat lapels): “Shut up! You mentioned a Vasilev. Is he Alexei Vasilev?”
KESPAR (wheezing in pain): “ I—well, I…”
BOND: “IS HE?!”
KESPAR: “Yes! Yes, now please, let me go…”
Bond dumps Kespar back onto the rug, where he heaves noisily.
BOND: “Get up! Get up, and go and tell your boss Kristatos not to send amateurs next time.”
Kespar whimpers, then runs out of the room. Ferrara looks after the man as Bond sags on the bed.
FERRARA: “You were softer on him than I thought you’d be. Why did you let him go?”
BOND: “Honor among thieves, I guess.”
He flashes a smile at Ferrara, who laughs heartily.
Later that night, a group of men wait by the docks. Aris Kristatos gets out of a limousine and fiddles with a cigarillo. He lights it, then puffs at it anxiously. A few moments pass, then Kespar creeps out of the bushes toward the men.
KRISTATOS: “Well? What did he say?”
KESPAR: “It was a trick; Draco’s man was already there.”
KRISTATOS: “What? You let him get the better of you?”
He snaps his fingers, and two thugs come up from behind Kespar and grab him by the arms. Kristatos takes a little round sausage from his pocket and begins nibbling on it.
KRISTATOS: “Strip him.”
Kespar lurches in the thugs’ grip, but they manage to strip him down to the bare skin. From the trunk of the limousine, another thug emerges with a gallon jug. He passes the back door, and for just a moment we see a little boy’s tousled head peeping up from inside at the window. The thug uncaps the jug and douses the naked Kespar in it, who coughs and splutters.
KESPAR: “I—what—what… what is that smell? What are you dousing me with? Gasoline?”
KRISTATOS: “No, my friend; bacon grease.”
Kristatos motions to the thugs, and they carry Kespar over to the side of the dock. They tie him to one of the wooden pillars supporting the dock; the underside is dank and dingy.
KRISTATOS: “You see, my friend, in this pizniss is much risico. I cannot gamble with bum dice.”
As he talks, he throws little pieces of sausage over the side of the dock. From the dark rocks below, squeals and growls erupt.
KRISTATOS: “To the wharf rats of the night, I offer thus my humble piece of offal. Enjoy the banquet, Kespar.”
Kristatos walks away to the limousine laughing, while, from behind, Kespar begins to scream in agony…
As the scream echoes into the night, we cut to Bond and Ferrara driving up to a sandy shoal on a beach, perhaps some miles away. The two men exit the vehicle, with Ferrara guiding Bond to a small fishing boat resting on the beach. A few men, dressed in dark colors, walk down a gangplank from the boat; trailing them is a familiar figure, though one Bond has not seen in over a decade. Bond gasps out his name in the moonlight:
BOND: “Draco!”
Draco looks at Bond warmly, but an arrow suddenly slices through the night, killing one of the guards surrounding Draco and sending the remaining men into a panic. They pull guns and run off, but Bond runs into the underbrush near the sand. He tiptoes patiently for a few moments until he reaches down and grabs an ankle. There is a cry and the person falls, a veil falling from her face: Judy Havelock! Bond lets out a shout towards the men, alerting them to Judy’s presence, but she bashes him in the face with her crossbow, and Bond sinks into a world of weary blackness.
In a dream, Bond is being interrogated by a shadowy figure. The man asks him questions about intelligence, but a second man, somehow more demonic than the first, screams into Bond’s face and begins beating him with a switch. Bond raises his hands to protect himself, but suddenly finds himself outdoors. Confused, he stands up and looks around.
His dingy chair is now in the middle of a field, with the Parthenon nearby. A figure is walking down those ruined white steps, a figure in ghostly white robes: It is his beloved wife, Tracy (Diana Rigg herself!). She steps toward him, her hair blowing gently in the wind, her face mournful and acceptant. Bond appears stunned. He takes her lightly in his arms.
BOND: “I must be dreaming.”
TRACY: “But you are dreaming, my darling. Awake.”
Bond gazes into her eyes, unwilling to leave.
TRACY: “Awake!”
With a start, Bond jolts awake. He has been redressed in soft white robes and is lying in a bed made with luxurious silken sheets. He gets up, somewhat confused, and begins to wander through the white washed corridors of a beautiful villa. In a private office area, he finds a familiar figure at the balcony: Marc-Ange Draco. He offers Bond a bowl of pistachio ice cream and a seat on his couch.
DRACO: “James, it’s been a long time.”
BOND: “Yes, Draco, it has.”
DRACO: “The last time I saw you, I think, was at the inquest. You were greatly missed at the funeral.”
BOND: “I came later; I find mourning easier to bear in private.”
DRACO: “Did you fulfill your promise to her? Did you ever catch the men who…?”
BOND: “Yes. They won’t bother anyone again.”
DRACO: “I see…”
Draco gets up and crosses the room to an old phonograph player. As he rifles through some dusty records, Bond clears his throat.
BOND: “Where is the girl?”
DRACO: “Oh, Miss Havelock? She’s locked downstairs in the cellar. I want you to ask her a few questions later on.”
BOND: “She believes you had her father killed. She was probably watching me at the café while Kristatos made those accusations.”
DRACO: “Hmmmm…”
BOND: “Draco, are you really the Fox?”
Draco turns with a start.
DRACO: “What? No! No, James; I may be a crime lord, but I do not sell heroin. You know me better than that.”
BOND: “Well, then, who is?”
DRACO: “My sneaking suspicion is that it’s that old fraud Kristatos himself… ah, now we’ve got it!”
With a crackle, an old record pops to life on the phonograph. A lovely soprano begins singing in Latin, and Bond turns to look at the player in awe.
BOND: “What is it? It’s beautiful.”
DRACO: “Ah, I think you should know this one. It is the Ave Maria.”
BOND: “Oh?”
DRACO: “Yes, it was Teresa’s favorite song.”
The bowl of ice cream clatters to the floor. Draco turns around, finding Bond staring straight ahead of him, obviously shaken.
DRACO: “James? James, what’s the matter?”
BOND: “She—she never told me…”
DRACO (realizing): “Oh…”
BOND: “It was such a short time...”
Draco walks over and sits on the couch beside Bond. He pats Bond on the back, and 007 sinks into his arms and weeps.
We cut to a helicopter landing at an airfield base in Soviet Russia. A young, portly major steps out of the chopper: Major Nikolai Pushkin. He strides, somewhat unconfidently, to the main door of the base, where he is warmly greeted in the typical Eastern fashion by General Gogol himself. He ushers the younger man inside, and we cut to the two walking along in Gogol’s massive office.
GOGOL: “Major, I have summoned you here for a very important purpose. You are among my most trusted subordinates; the most trusted, in fact. Do you have an idea why I summoned you here?”
PUSHKIN: “It has something to do with the Greek situation, if I take it rightly?”
GOGOL: “Correct! Yes, our, uh, intelligence operations have taken a bad turn. You know of Aris Kristatos, do you not?”
PUSHKIN: “Vaguely; he is our main shipping point into the Mediterranean, if I—”
GOGOL: “Yes, yes; you have it rightly. For years, he has been working with pride for the Socıalıst cause by transmitting false information to the British on a drug runner known as the Fox.”
PUSHKIN: “The Fox? Who is he? I’ve never heard of him!”
GOGOL: “Of course you haven’t, Major; he is a fiction, a false name thrown onto the trail of the British by our marvelous intelligence groups, so as to distract them from the – what is the phrase? – “traitor in their organization”: Our man Kristatos.”
PUSHKIN: “So, Kristatos is not the Fox?”
GOGOL: “No. Our cover has been elaborate enough; in operation for twenty years, using various warehouses registered in aliases that invariably come out to “the Fox” but are filled with nothing but worthless shipments of powder and liquid manufactured to look like heroin.”
PUSHKIN: “Well, then, what is the problem?”
GOGOL: “Our man Kristatos, it seems, has decided he needs to get rid of a man he fancies as a rival, so he’s been pinning him as the Fox. This has come to the attention of the British, who recently sent one of their top agents to Greece to check out the situation.”
PUSHKIN: “But, if Kristatos has been so successful in deceiving the British before, what’s the problem here? It’s only a rival dealer—”
GOGOL: “The agent, as it turns out, is the dealer’s son-in-law.”
PUSHKIN: “So? Merely fulfilling marital vows, one assumes, so—”
GOGOL: “It’s Bond.”
PUSHKIN (after a moment): “Ah…”
GOGOL: “Don’t you see? Our entire intelligence operation will be ruined!”
PUSHKIN: “Didn’t we take care of him?”
GOGOL: “No, not in the way you might think. You see…”
As Gogol talks, we fade to an elaborate flashback:
GOGOL: “Two years ago, a bearded, nearly-naked man speaking Greek was captured near our base in Smolyan, Hungary. He had with him a rough-hewn walking stick and a black attaché-case; within the attaché-case were scraps of personal papers belonging to James Bond. Closer examination of the bearded, confused man arrived at the conclusion that he was indeed Bond, lost, confused, and without a clue as to who he really was. Naturally, who could blame us for exploiting such a situation? In order to possibly gain knowledge of British intelligence secrets, I had him turned over to Colonel Boris Godunov… under my supervision, of course—”
PUSHKIN: “You turned him over to Colonel Boris? The man’s a madman! It’s been said he tortures prisoners until they break, at which point he tortures them until they die!”
GOGOL: “Which is why I turned to him. I thought Bond might have… information… on my son.”
PUSHKIN: “Your son, sir?”
GOGOL: “Yes. He was training to be a fighter pilot when he disappeared over Jordan in 1972. I hoped beyond hope that he might still live, but…”
PUSHKIN: “And, so, you took Bond to Colonel Boris to find out about him?”
GOGOL: “Yes, but he was useless! Rambling on and on about some Teresa, or Katia, or whomever he calls his birds on any given day; I could not stand it! I took a switch off the wall, and… and—”
As Gogol stops, we see him, in flashback, yell furiously at a dazed Bond and begin to beat him over the head with a switch. He does not stop until two guards pull him off the prisoner, revealing Bond to now have a deep, bloody scar along his right cheek.
GOGOL: “No matter; I only did what needed to be done. The next day, Bond was taken to the Re-Education Ward, where we remolded him into a new man; our man. We trained him to go by the public channels of intelligence, provided him with all the trappings of a decadent Western dandy; even gave him a proper shave. Two years he spent there, for that was how long our sessions took. What can I say? The man would not break.”
PUSHKIN: “Eventually, though, he got back to Britain?”
GOGOL: “Of course! He was a little confused, but we managed to give him instructions; instructions enough to shuttle him to Hong Kong, then fly from there to Britain. He knew the route to Admiral Sir Miles Messervy’s house on his own; the rest we provided him. It was indeed a small miracle that his luggage was not checked on the BOAC flight, but no matter; it seems Bond has become Bond once again.”
PUSHKIN: “So, then, what do you want me to do?”
GOGOL: “Go. Go out there, and, for God’s sake, stop Kristatos before he does any more harm.”
Gogol turns to grab a dossier on his desk, handing it over with the remark:
GOGOL: “You have my full backing behind you, whatever choice you make out there. I leave it entirely in your hands.”
As he speaks, we cut to a pair of hands clasping; they are covered in ghastly rings. The owner of these hands turns toward the camera; it’s Kristatos. He motions to a henchman to hand him a pair of binoculars, and turns them toward Draco’s seaside villa. A wide shot reveals Kristatos to be standing on the deck of his yacht, the Ravigo. He smirks at what he sees, then calls down below deck, “Prepare to dive!”
We cut again, this time to Bond and Draco walking down a flight of stone steps to an aged oak door. Draco unlocks it from a key seemingly plucked at random from a key-ring full of them, then ushers Bond gently in.
In a corner of the cellar, Judy has curled up with her arms clasping her knees. She eyes the men distrustfully. Bond kneels down beside her:
BOND: “Hello, Judy. I’m… sorry for what happened the other night.”
JUDY: “He killed my father.”
BOND: “Him? Draco?”
DRACO: “Me?”
JUDY (sobbing): “Yes! I heard that man Kristatos say it, and you were working with him! Who else could I believe?”
BOND: “Judy, listen to me: Draco didn’t kill your father. Kristatos hired the man who did the deed.”
JUDY: “No! You’re lying!”
BOND: “Judy, how could I lie about this? Draco…”
JUDY: “What?”
BOND: “Draco was my father-in-law. That’s why I didn’t believe Kristatos; I knew otherwise.”
JUDY: “Was?”
BOND (after a moment): “Please don’t make me talk about this right now. Lord knows, you’ve had enough tragedy for one lifetime.”
JUDY (reluctantly): “All right.”
She slowly gets up, and Bond takes her by the hand. As Draco smiles somewhat warmly, they lead her out of the cellar.
On board the Ravigo, Vasilev is waiting in a doorway. He sees his boss consult with a man in a wet scuba suit; when the man rushes off, Vasilev accosts Kristatos in the hall. He asks his boss what it is about Bond and Draco that makes them so important to him, but Kristatos merely lays a finger on the side of his nose and claims he has a backup plan; what Bond finds most precious in the whole world…
Later in the afternoon, Bond, Draco, and Judy are sitting at a table with a map of the Greek coast laid out in front of them. Some of Draco’s guards stand around them, and one of them looks rather angrily at Judy.
JUDY: “Why is he looking at me like that?”
DRACO: “That is the brother of the man you killed last night.”
JUDY (trying to be warm): “Tell him I’m sorry for him, will you?”
Draco turns to the man and speaks to him in Corsican French. The man looks crossly at Judy again, then angrily stalks away.
BOND: “All right, now where did you say you were attacked?”
JUDY: “Near the wreck of the Κυρία Μαρία; it’s along this shoal right here.”
She points to a certain spot on the map, and Bond’s eyes narrow.
BOND: “That’s where I was snorkeling the other night! I was attacked by divers.”
DRACO: “Was anyone with you? I don’t seem to remember you as much of a snorkeler, James.”
BOND: “There was a… a Lisl Baum, an anthropologist. She was killed by Kristatos’ men.”
At this, Judy looks up in shock.
JUDY: “Lisl? I knew her. She helped my father and I narrow down our locations for the wreck. She was a wonderful person.”
DRACO: “Another thing you can get Kristatos for.”
Bond looks up sharply at Draco, who cuts the chatter and pops a pistachio nut into his mouth.
BOND: “Just remember, Judy; before going out on revenge, first dig two graves.”
JUDY: “I already have: One for my father, and one for Kristatos.”
She abruptly gets up from the table and walks out, leaving Bond looking somewhat mournfully behind her.
We cut to later that night, where Bond, Judy, Draco, and his men have all suited up for diving. The team prepares to jump, then takes the plunge.
Underwater, it is a few minutes before they reach the wreck, but they’ve hit the jackpot: Kristatos’ men are in the process of attempting to remove their treasure haul, and, as such, are caught completely by surprise when Draco’s men attack. A brief battle ensues, during which, a few men on each side are killed. Towards the end of the fight, Bond is taken hostage by an especially menacing diver; we cannot see his face, but his eyes look strikingly familiar. He pulls Bond through an underwater hatch along the bottom of the Ravigo, Kristatos’ yacht, and the rest of the men fall back as soon as this happens.
Back at the shore, Draco and the rest of his men remove their gear and shake the water out of their ears. They seem resigned, but Judy, however, is insistent that they go back to rescue Bond. Draco tells her they cannot do this without the backing of the Greek Special Forces, but that he’ll inform Ferrara soon enough that Kristatos has been violating his Ministry agreement by raiding a Greek national treasure. He pats her on the shoulder, but Judy still seems troubled…
We cut to Bond, unconscious. A hand abruptly slaps his face, and we dolly out to see that he is tied to a wooden chair. Vasilev and another man are walking around him, and he is surrounded by hundreds of barrels of wine. The cellar, within the hold of Kristatos’ ship, is dank and dingy, with only a gangplank connecting the bottom to the door above. On the floor near Bond rests a large battery. Vasilev finally stops before Bond and smirks:
VASILEV: “We meet again, Mr. Bond. There’s a saying, you know, from the Americans: Once is happenstance, twice is coincidence; the third time, it’s enemy action. As such, I feel I have no choice but to… launch a preemptive strike. Apostis, the cables.”
At this, the other man picks up a pair of electrodes and attaches them to the battery; he then rips open Bond’s wetsuit, revealing a suit jacket and tie, and quickly unbuttons the shirt. He attaches the two electrodes (with pliers) to Bond’s nipples, then stands back.
VASILEV: “You have no idea how hard it was to infiltrate this group. Years of planning, weaseling my way in… and along you come to foul everything up!”
Vasilev reaches down and flicks a switch on the electrode, sending an electrical current through Bond and causing him to shake in agony. After a few seconds, Vasilev switches it off, watching Bond gasp for breath with glee.
VASILEV: “Kristatos has no idea, but I’m plotting behind his back. CHAOS will once again bestride the world, with myself at its head!”
BOND (groaning): “Y… you… you’re delusional…”
Vasilev immediately switches the electrode back on, and Bond screams this time, the veins in his neck standing out.
BOND: “AAAUUUGGHHH!!! Yes! Yes! Yes…”
Vasilev switches it off, an expression of amused contempt crossing his face.
BOND: “Yes… yes… ha-ha-ha-ha…”
VASILEV: “Crossing the threshold from pain to pleasure, are we?”
BOND (heaving): “Maybe…”
VASILEV: “Well, now, we can’t have that…”
He reaches for the switch again, but Bond cries out:
BOND: “No, wait! I’ve just got to know, though…”
VASILEV (smirking): “Yes?”
BOND: “What were you doing with Kristatos in the first place?”
VASILEV (in mock disbelief): “You ask me this now?”
Bond appears to be hanging on his every word, so Vasilev continues:
VASILEV: “After you blundered into our grand Egyptian plot, I managed to escape to the coast before the authorities arrived. Smuggling myself into a shipment of Greek repatriates, I learned from a few of how dear Aris had stumbled upon the wreck of the Κυρία Μαρία as a source for his funds. I knew I had to infiltrate his group, so I managed to join a gang Kristatos often used as fodder, then worked my way in by providing him some of my key associates for his use; one thing he didn’t know, though, was that they were still under my control. I believe you met Hector Gonzales a few nights ago; he was one of mine. So was Zebranzev, the man who attacked you in the helicopter.”
BOND: “Really? If I recall, he lost his head about me.”
VASILEV (laughing ironically): “Again with the puns, yes, Bond? Along with that ridiculous suit under your wetsuit, you really seem to be nothing more than a parody of yourself; the suave Westerner working as a blunt instrument of Her Majesty.”
Vasilev reaches for the switch once more, turning to face Bond as he gleefully watches trepidation spread over the agent’s face. He does not notice Apostis looking at him with what appears to be expectation, as if Vasilev is due to be swallowed up into the earth at any moment.
VASILEV: “As for your soon-to-be fate, I think you would put it as… hmmm, shocking.”
He smiles wickedly, then pulls the switch:
VASILEV: “Positively shocking.”
Bond screams horribly once more, with Vasilev enjoying every moment:
VASILEV: “Yes! Yes! And, soon, with Kristatos’ haul under my control, I will bring CHAOS to the world once more! So long, Mr. Bond!”
BANG! Suddenly, the cellar doors above Vasilev open, revealing Kristatos at the head of his gang. He strides quickly down the gangplank, walking right past Vasilev and Bond and standing face-to-face with Apostis:
APOSTIS: “I saw everything, sir; he admitted to it all.”
KRISTATOS: “All? Heh, well that takes care of our problem…”
VASILEV: “What? You set me up, Apostis?! I got you this job, you rat!”
Kristatos smirks, then looks over at Bond:
KRISTATOS: “You see my problem, Bond? Never a man can trust me.”
BOND (weakly): “And I can see why. You set Draco up.”
KRISTATOS: “What’s honor amongst thieves went it comes to heroin, eh? What is it worth?”
To show, he draws his gun and shoots Apostis in the head.
KRISTATOS: “See? Nothing at all.”
He motions the rest of his men, who now looks quite wary, to untie Bond. Once free, Bond straightens up in the chair and slowly buttons his shirt up.
BOND: “Just one thing, though; why are you so interested in me?”
KRISTATOS (quizzically): “You really don’t know? I—”
The ship suddenly rumbles, as if some sort of detonator has hit it. Kristatos and his men look around wildly, and founts of wine instantly start shooting out of the barrels, knocking Vasilev over. Another of Kristatos’ men enters, running halfway down the gangplank:
MAN: “It’s Draco! He’s got the Greek Special Forces team with him!”
KRISTATOS: “Are we taking on water?”
Another boom rattles the ship. The man looks back, then yells:
MAN: “Now we are!”
KRISTATOS: “Christ! We’ve got to scramble, men; get the prisoners!”
SECOND MAN: “What about these fellows?”
KRISTATOS: “Never mind them, leave them to their fate!”
Outside, we see Draco, Judy, and Draco’s men arriving on speedboats with the Greek Special Forces, shooting rapid-fire at the Ravigo. One speedboat manages to dock at the yacht, and the team within takes care of a henchman attempting to use a gun aboard the side. The rest of Kristatos’ men continue to scramble within, with Kristatos, once he’s on deck, yelling that the men should get to his cabin. Meanwhile, one last man scrambles out of the wine cellar and inadvertently knocks over the gangplank in the process; Bond and Vasilev are trapped down there, together, with wine rapidly filling the hold to their waists.
Bond wades around and notices a number of barrels that could potentially serve as a bridge to the door above, but Vasilev notices, too, and punches Bond aside. The two begin to fight, in a scene reminiscent of the opening fight from OHMSS, with the two men struggling for purchase as they climb up the barrels, slick with wine.
Finally, just as the barrels collapse from the combined weight of the men, Bond manages to reach the top, grabbing onto the doorframe, but Vasilev grabs onto Bond's tie and tries to pull him down. As both of Bond's hands are occupied, he can't flick Vasilev off the tie, and Vasilev knows it. He laughs cruelly:
VASILEV: “How are you to escape this one, Bond? Prepare to join me in death!”
As Vasilev grits his teeth and tugs on the tie a bit more, however, he plunges to his death, still holding the tie; it was a clip-on. Bond watches the body fall, sinking murkily into the wine with a splash, but does not say anything; instead, he seems almost queasy, and pulls himself through the door onto the deck.
The battle continues on deck, but some miles away, unnoticed, a small helicopter approaches; within it is Major Pushkin, brow furrowing as he looks upon the spectacle consuming the Ravigo.
Bond shakily regroups with Draco and Judy, who asks what they’re doing there:
JUDY: “Rescuing you, of course!”
A clunk, then a loud whirr, is heard; the three look around, and see that Kristatos is getting away in a speedboat – with two other people, one of whom Bond vaguely recognizes…
Draco orders his men off the ship and back into the speedboats, and the chase is on, but not before one of Draco’s men lays a charge, sending the Ravigo to the bottom of the Aegean in a fiery explosion. Undaunted by this, Major Pushkin orders the pilot to fly around the plumes of smoke and follow the chase.
Kristatos eventually leads them back to the shore, near Draco’s villa. He pulls his companions out of the boat and drags them up the hill, a gun pointed at the head of one of them. Draco and Bond land shortly thereafter, with Judy following in a boat of her own, but before she can get out, a hand grabs her ankle; it’s one of Kristatos’ henchmen, having jumped off the ship at the last minute and hung off the side of Judy’s speedboat. He draws a knife from between his teeth, but before he can stab Judy, a shot rings out, and the man lifelessly sinks into the water. Judy turns around to see that the man who saved her life is the brother of the man she killed; he looks somewhat in shock at her, then gets out of his own boat and runs up the shoreline, with Judy not far behind him and his group of men.
In the very yard of Draco’s villa, Kristatos finally comes to a stop, twisting the woman he’s holding a gun to around and looking wildly at the force assembled around him. Bond steps forward out of the group, with Draco right behind him.
BOND: “Let her go, Kristatos! She’s got no business with us, whoever she is!”
KRISTATOS (laughing): “Whoever she is?! Bond, do you not recognize your own wife?”
He pulls her head up so her face can be seen, and Bond recoils, a mass of memories flashing through his mind.
KRISTATOS: “Yes, your dear, precious Katia was so worried about her husband that she decided to travel all the way up here with her child to find out what had happened to him! And, James, by her child, I mean your child… your son!”
DRACO: “No! You lying bastard! This is all a trick, isn’t it, James?”
Draco turns to his son-in-law, only to find him looking heartbroken, and somewhat longingly, at Katia and the boy.
DRACO: “James?”
BOND: “No, Draco; it’s not a trick.”
Draco seems to sag in his skin at the words, while Kristatos only laughs uproariously.
KRISTATOS: “Yes, your dear James took another girl, back when he went native, the callous fop!”
BOND: “It wasn’t like that! I’d lost my memory of all previous life, following the Moonraker incident.”
DRACO: “The what?”
BOND: “For God’s sake, it was in the Times, or so I’ve been told! Surely you keep a tab on that? This isn’t the time for that, though…”
DRACO: “Well, when is? And the boy, your son…”
Draco seems loathe to say the word, so Kristatos jumps in:
KRISTATOS: “Yes, Bond! Another eventual effect of your womanizing, as if you didn’t expect it to happen…”
BOND: “No! I—I forgot…”
He looks worriedly at the little boy, who tries to break free of Kristatos’s grasp, but to no avail.
KRISTATOS: “You see, it’s not always a good thing to forget… especially when it leads to Mother Russia getting state secrets.”
BOND: “What?”
KRISTATOS: “Yesss! You broke during captivity; the great James Bond made a fool out of himself, and now we will see how he can pay the pip—”
Suddenly, the wind picks up around them, blowing Kristatos’s hair around. The slimy Greek looks up to see a helicopter descending on the place where he’s standing. Yowling, he lets go of Katia and her child, who run to Bond while Kristatos collapses in the dust, crawling away pathetically from the helicopter.
The door opens, and out steps Major Pushkin, along with two guards. He looks around him, somewhat bewildered, then looks down and finds his quarry. Grabbing Kristatos by the arm, Pushkin pulls him to his feet:
KRISTATOS: “Major… Major Pushkin…?”
PUSHKIN: “You incompetent! You let your smuggling rivalries get out of hand, and see where they have left you! The Presidium is disgusted with your work. Henceforth, you are no longer an agent of the Soviet government!”
Having said thus, Pushkin releases Kristatos, who collapses to the ground in a stunned heap. Pushkin turns to leave, but Judy rushes out of the crowd with her crossbow and aims at the fallen smuggler. Bond holds her arm, however, and looks at her face-to-face:
BOND: “Judy, no! Two graves, please; remember!”
Judy hesitates, turning to look at the brother of the man she killed, who has just saved her life, but before she can decide, Kristatos, furiously, draws a dagger from within his boot and charges at Pushkin:
KRISTATOS: “AAAARRRRGGHHH!!! You… cannot—”
Pushkin’s guards pull the major out of the way and shoot Kristatos repeatedly in the chest, and he falls gracelessly into the dust, finally defeated.
Pushkin, brushing off his clothes, looks down with revulsion at Kristatos’s corpse, then announces:
PUSHKIN: “Does anyone else wish to attack me here?”
When no one else says anything, Pushkin turns to leave, but Bond steps forward from the crowd:
BOND: “Major? I need to ask you something.”
PUSHKIN: “Who are you?”
BOND: “Commander James Bond, sir. When I was in captivity—”
PUSHKIN (nodding understandingly): “Ah, yes; I thought I knew what you’d ask me, and the answer is no, Commander. Our men were able to get no information from your interrogation.”
Bond looks greatly relieved, and Pushkin smiles at him warmly.
PUSHKIN: “As for this situation, well…”
At this, he tosses a dossier at Bond, the same dossier Gogol had given him. Bond catches it as Pushkin continues:
PUSHKIN: “…I leave it entirely in your hands. I have a feeling we may enter a new era of Anglo-Soviet cooperation with you, Commander. Do svidaniya dlya teperʹ.”
He waves at Bond, then gets into the helicopter, and the guards prepare him for departure. As the helicopter hovers upward and flies off into the dusk, Bond reads what is stamped onto the dossier, a few letters in Cyrillic.
DRACO: “Well? What does it say, James?”
BOND: “It’s my dossier, Draco; this is stamped For Your Eyes Only.”
He smiles at the departing helicopter of Major Pushkin, and the score swells as we cut to…
…later at night, as the sun is slowly dipping beneath the waves. In Draco’s villa, Bond is sitting at an enormous window ledge, breathing in the sea air, and Katia slowly walks up to him from out of frame. The two are softly silhouetted in the pink light of the setting sun. Katia sits next to Bond and strokes his shoulder, then speaks to him in Greek; she is subtitled:
KATIA (in Greek): “I had wondered when we would meet again, my love.”
BOND (in Greek): “I know who I am now, Katia, and I am all the more troubled for it.”
Katia tries to embrace him, but Bond speaks again:
BOND (in Greek): “Katia, I am not the man you fell in love with. That was a different time, a different life.”
KATIA (in Greek): “No, it was the life you wanted; you were born anew. You were so happy then, not like now…”
She pushes the comma of hair away from his forehead and stares into his eyes, then turns and looks at the boy bouncing happily on Draco’s knee in the corner.
KATIA (in Greek): “Little Ἰάκωβος looks very happy on his knee.”
BOND (in Greek): “Yes; I think you’ll like it here. What was his name, again?”
KATIA (in Greek): “ Ἰάκωβος; we decided on it before you left, remember? It means James in Greek.”
Katia smiles as she says this, drawing her finger down the long scar on Bond’s cheek, and Bond seems intimately touched by her having said such. He takes her hand in his own hands and kisses her gently, softly, almost as if he is remembering the spirit of a different woman, lost long ago. Finally, he gets up and picks his son from off Draco’s lap, tousling Draco’s hair laughingly as he does so. As Draco fixes his hair and stares after his son-in-law, Bond sits by the window once more and sets the boy on his own knee. He looks earnestly into his son’s eyes, watching to see if he is paying attention.
BOND (in Greek): “Little James, I’m very happy to meet you, but I want you to know that you may not want to grow up to be me. My life, the profession I lead, is not one a lot of people would be proud of, but I do it because I love my country, and because I care about the people whose lives are affected by my work. I may not see you often throughout your life, James, and you may come to resent me, but know this: When I come here to see you, you know that I love you. Always.”
Bond seems to be on the verge of tears, so Katia takes their son from him and comforts him while Bond walks back to where Draco is sitting.
BOND: “You’ll take care of them for me?”
DRACO: “As long as I live, James. I’ll treat her like my own daughter… and your son like my own grandson.”
BOND: “For all intents and purposes, Draco, he is your grandson. Treat him well, because there’s something I have to do before I leave here.”
Bond gets up and walks out of the villa, striding down to the seashore, where a lone figure is swimming up towards him: Judy. Bond crouches down as Judy rubs the water from her eyes.
BOND: “Where will you go, Judy?”
JUDY: “All over the world, depending on how much money my father has left me… but I think I’ll start with this little corner of the Earth first.”
She smiles up at Bond, who is about to say something when Draco runs out of the villa toward Bond.
DRACO: “James! James! Someone is calling for you!”
BOND: “Who?”
DRACO: “The Minister of Defence, along with your M and… the Chief of Staff, I think!”
BOND (incredulous): “Calling for me? There must be some mistake.”
DRACO: “No, James; Ferrara told the British the whole situation. Apparently, the Ministry is now reorganizing itself after being told that a routine trainee mission exploded into a drug war episode with the Soviets, and they’re now calling you to congratulate you on containing the situation.”
BOND: “What a bunch of
-covering prigs!” Bond storms up into the villa, muttering curses under his breath while Draco stays behind to watch. 007 grabs the phone off its stand and begins:
BOND: “Commander James Bond, here.”
GRAY (sickeningly sweetly, over the phone): “Ah, Commander! So good to hear from you!”
We cut to M’s office in London, where M is seated at his desk, Bill Tanner is sitting in a leather chair in front of the desk, and Sir Frederick Gray is speaking into the phone and pacing the floor next to Tanner.
GRAY: “Well, we’ve just heard the whole situation up here, and we’re pleased to tell you that all proffered charges against you have been dropped.”
BOND (over phone): “I’m very glad to hear that, Freddie.”
At this, Gray looks up at M and nods excitedly, then puts his ear to the receiver again. We cut back to Bond, who is looking rather sly:
BOND: “Of course, I do hope an official enquiry is being made into why an agent of the Soviets was able to dupe Her Majesty’s Intelligence into believing that the destruction of Sir Jeremy’s yacht had nothing at all to do with the drug war going on in Greece.”
We cut back to the office, where the smile on Gray’s face is quickly slipping off.
BOND (over phone): “I think, in fact, that a few of your men in the Foreign Ministry might be involved in this, wouldn’t you agree?”
GRAY (shouting): “Why, you—”
M motions to him with a wave of his hand, but he is not able to hide the grin on his face. Tanner jumps in:
TANNER: “Just tell him!”
GRAY (trying to keep calm): “Right, right…”
On the other end, Bond can hardly keep a snort from erupting, but he listens, anyway:
GRAY (over phone): “Her Majesty’s government will be pleased to offer you a knighthood—”
BOND: “A knighthood?”
GRAY (over phone): “Yes, yes! If you do just one thing…”
Bond’s face sours, and we cut back to the office:
BOND (over phone): “You mean, if I keep quiet?”
GRAY: “Look, Bond, Her Majesty’s Government has a reputation to keep! You can’t just—”
BOND: “…and I, as a Scottish peasant, have my own reputation to keep. The Corsicans have a saying: The price of my job is far above rubies, or even… your knighthood. Thanks, Freddie, but… piss off.”
With that, Bond hangs up the phone, and Draco looks on in admiration. On the other end, Gray is furious, stamping around the office in a huff:
GRAY: “How dare he? How am I to explain this to the PM?”
M (chuckling): “She’ll have your guts for garters!”
GRAY: “Why—you…”
M presses the intercom button:
M: “Moneypenny, escort Sir Frederick out of my office; give him a few sedatives, then send him on his way.”
MONEYPENNY (over intercom): "With pleasure, sir."
The door to the office opens, and two guards forcibly pull Gray from the room. Tanner stays behind for a moment, wanting to talk to M.
TANNER: “Sir Miles, it’s been a great honour to work with you, but I’ve decided to move on to a general job with the Ministry of Defence. I hope you’ll understand.”
M: “Completely, Bill, but I do wish you the best of luck. I hope your brother Phil can stop by to put in a few hours’ work, though.”
TANNER: “We’re twins, so you probably won’t even notice a change.”
M (laughing): “Oh, I doubt that!”
Tanner turns to leave, but M speaks up again:
M: “Just one word of advice, Tanner?”
TANNER: “Certainly, sir.”
M: “Never trust men with beards.”
Tanner laughs at this, waves good-bye, and M is alone at his desk once more.
Back in Greece, Bond walks outside to the shore, hands in pockets, shirt loose, exactly the same as in OHMSS. We cut to a helicopter shot, and the credits begin, as the camera slowly flies away from the coastline, backed by Bill Conti’s version of the title theme, as sung by Sheena Easton.
The credits close:
THE END
OF
FOR YOUR EYES ONLY
JAMES BOND
WILL RETURN
IN
[url="http://<a%20href="http://debrief.commanderbond.net/index.php?showtopic=43464&hl="%20target="_blank">http://debrief.comma...hl=</a>"] OCTOPUSSY[/url]
DEDICATED IN MEMORY
OF OUR FRIEND
BERNARD LEE
1908-1981
------------------------------------------
So, what do you all think? Any comments, questions, or critiques would be greatly appreciated.
