The Man with the Golden Gun Page #4

Well, your concern for my wellbeing|is touching,

but puzzles me.

- Scaramanga is in Bangkok.|- He was in Hong Kong, but not after me.

We've been through that routine.

He's a monster. I hate him.

Then leave him.

You don't walk out on Scaramanga.

- There's no place he wouldn't find me.|- You need a good lawyer.

I need 007.

Who do you think sent that bullet|to London with your number on it?

I did.

And it wasn't easy|getting his fingerprint on the note.

Forgive me|if I've been slow on the uptake.

Don't you see you're the only man|in the world who can kill him?

Now, what gives you that idea?

The way Scaramanga speaks about you.

- Even has a likeness of you.|- I'm flattered.

I want him dead.

Name your price. Anything, I'll pay it.

You can have me too, if you like.

I'm not unattractive.

At last you're starting to tell the truth.

I've dreamed about you setting me free.

I've been dreaming about a solex agitator.

Ever heard of one?

Perhaps you can have that too.

- No, my clothes are in there.|- Get in.

- I'll kill that woman.|- Later!

Charming.

It was an inspiration, sending that bullet.

You're late.

It was a double feature.

What are you doing?

Putting my jewellery away.

You can come out now.

- What time is it?|- Two-ish.

Two? You mean|I've been in here for two hours?

All in the line of duty.

Duty! I'm resigning in the morning!

Goodnight, don't let us down.|The Service needs women like you.

Well, obviously you don't!

Forgive me, darling.

Your turn will come, I promise.

As soon as she brings me that solex.

- For killing Scaramanga?|- If she gets me the solex agitator first.

First?

James, you must be good.

Oh. We'll find out about that|the next time I meet her.

She's making the arrangements.

Sorry I'm late.|Bangkok traffic's worse than Piccadilly.

He's made contact.

- How's the charm boy doing?|- Need you ask?

Meet you outside.

Did you bring it?

Darling, I left it in your handbag.

It must be in here somewhere, dear.|I saw the man in the shop give it to you.

Without the ticket, we can't get a receipt.

You won't find it in there, Mr Bond.|I looked before you came.

I wouldn't do that either. Look behind you.

Lower.

A gun in a bag of peanuts. How original.|What will they think of next?

My name is Scaramanga.|Francisco Scaramanga.

I feel I know you, although|I never thought we should ever meet.

It's a very great pleasure for me, Mr Bond,|thanks to Miss Anders.

You've a strange way|of showing gratitude.

A mistress cannot serve two masters.

A difficult shot, but most gratifying.

Well, we, er... all get our jollies|one way or another.

Mine have always been guns, Mr Bond.

When I was a boy|I was brought up in a circus.

My only real friend|was a magnificent African bull elephant.

One day his handler mistreated him|and he went berserk.

Bleeding, dying,

he came and found me.

Stood on one leg - his best trick -|picked me up and put me on his back.

The man emptied the gun into his eye.

- I emptied my stage pistol into his.|- An eye for an eye. Nut?

You see, Mr Bond,|I always thought I liked animals.

Then I discovered that|I liked killing people even more.

Keep this. Whatever you do, don't lose it.

- I have to help James.|- Something's wrong?

- There's a midget with a gun on him.|- A midget?

Same one I saw at the Bottoms Up.|The girl is dead. Call the police!

Forget the girl. She's replaceable.

And I shall find what she stole from me.

Personally, I have nothing against you,|so let's hope our paths never cross again.

Please don't try to follow me.

Your peanut-toting friend back there|wouldn't like it.

No, he wouldn't.

You want to try one of mine?

- Where's the solex?|- With Goodnight.

- Where's Goodnight?|- Outside.

She must be by the car.

Women! Walkie-talkie.

- Goodnight, where are you?|- Somebody locked me in a boot.

- The midget's car. I'm locked in.

Number 7543.

- The keys!|- I haven't got them.

Oh, no.

- Oh, I've got the keys.

And I've got the solex too.

Taxi!

Stay in there, Goodnight.|We've got you spotted.

Taxi! Taxi!

Taxi!

- How 'bout a demonstration, boy?|- Certainly, sir.

What the hell is goin' on?!

Now... I know you!

Oh, no.

You're that secret agent.|That English secret agent from England.

You're chasin' somebody.

Who are you after this time, boy?|Commies?

Let's go get 'em! I'm with you all the way.

Uh-oh. I think we've got trouble.

Pull your cars over,|you little brown pointy-heads!

I'm a peace officer!

James? Are you still there?

James!

Can you hear me? James!

All right, Goodnight. Don't panic.

- Who's that?|- It's, er...

- It's Headquarters.|- Let me talk to 'em.

Hello. This is Sheriff JW Pepper,

Louisiana State Police.

and tell her I'm on a mission.

I've been deputised. Right?

Right.

Which car are we all chasin', boy?

Move it! Move it!

Get that piece of junk off of the road.

They went left, boy.

Press that pedal, boy.

Where the hell have they got to?

You goofed, boy.

Nearest bridge is two miles back.

Goddamn! What the...

What's goin' on?|What the hell are you doin' now, boy?

The bridge is "that" way!

You're not thinking of...?

I sure am, boy!

Ever heard of Evel Knievel?

Wowee!

I ain't never done that before!

Neither have I, actually.

Let's go get 'em, boy!

You stay put, boy.

This is "my" department.

Glad to see you boys on the ball!

Sheriff JW Pepper, Louisiana State Police.

Here's my identification.

Law Enforcement Association,|American Legion.

Me and my partner here,|we're on a secret mission.

What the hell you doing?|Give me my wallet back.

Doors.

You can't do this to me.|I want my wallet back.

Take these goddamn bracelets off!

I'm gonna sue ya for false arrest!|Police brutality. I got connections.

I'm gonna get the FBI on your ass!|The CIA!

Goddamn it,|I'm gonna get Henry Kissinger!

Now look at me|when I'm talkin' to ya, boy.

What's the matter?|Ain't none of you seen a plane before?

James? James, are you still there?

Can you hear me?

I think we've stopped.

That is really|all there is to report, sir.

So, if I heard correctly,|Scaramanga got away.

Yes, sir.

- In a car that sprouted wings.|- That's perfectly feasible, sir.

- In fact, we're working on one now.|- Oh, Q! Shut up.

- Miss Goodnight was in the boot?|- Yes, sir.

We found the car-plane abandoned|about 200 miles west of Bangkok.

- And the solex?|- In Goodnight's handbag, sir.

- Where's Goodnight now?|- We don't know, sir.

Communications aren't getting the signal|from the homer she has supplied by Q.

Rubbish! They're simply|not stepping up the reception to enable...

Oh, shut up, Q!

Of all the fouled-up,|half-witted operations!

- What do you want?|- We've picked up Goodnight's signal, sir.

- Well, that's something.|- But there's something rather curious, sir.

Our sector's here,

and we're receiving her signal|from somewhere off this coastline here.

Now here it is on a much larger scale.

That's where she is.|In this group of small islands.

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