Moonraker (James Bond Series #3) Book

The two thirty-eights roared simultaneously.

So begins Moonraker, the third novel by Ian Fleming. Published in 1955, it continues the exploits of British Secret Service agent James Bond following Casino Royale and Live and Let Die, with the long-running film series adhering to Fleming's bibliography neither in order or in story content. This smooth, spare spy thriller bares next door to zero similarity to the film released in 1979 and while I grew restless with the acrobatics of the back half, I loved the business in the front half, which takes readers through a day at the office with a gaming expert and modern male sophisticate occasionally called on to assassinate enemies of the state.

The novel starts with James Bond having a bad case of the Mondays, worked over in the basement firing range by his instructor (his sidearm is a Colt Detective Special) before going up to his eighth floor office of Secret Service headquarters, "Radio Tests Ltd" to any curious pedestrians in Regent Park. Bond, also known as Agent 007, might field an assignment two or three times a year that require his particular skills, but is typically tasked with the chores of a civil servant--reviewing dockets and files full of geopolitical or technological data--while playing cards or golf with a few close friends on the weekend.

A red phone on Bond's desk summons him to the ninth floor office of the head of the Secret Service, known as "M." Bond is caught off guard when his boss refers to him by his given name and asks for his opinion on Sir Hugo Drax, a British industrialist who cornered the market on a ore called Columbite, which has a very high melting point. Drax is nearing completion of a rocket called the Moonraker, which will have the range to strike any city in Europe, guaranteeing Britain's security. A member of the private card club Blades, M has come by information that Drax cheats at bridge. Seeking to avert a national scandal, M requests Bond join him at the club to investigate.

There are one or two other small refinements which contribute to the luxury of the place. Only brand-new currency notes and silver are paid out on the premises and, if a member is staying overnight, his notes and small change are taken away by the valet who brings the early morning tea and The Times and are replaced with new money. No newspaper comes to the reading room before it has been ironed. Floris provides the soaps and lotions in the lavatories and bedrooms; there is a direct wire to Ladbroke's from the porter's lodge; the club has the finest tents and boxes at the principal race-meetings, at Lord's, Henley, and Wimbledon, and members traveling abroad have automatic membership of the leading club in every foreign capital.

At the gaming table, Drax is a crass, larger than life man, with one side of his face shiny from scar tissue left over from the war, when he survived a bombing on a rear-liaison headquarters by German saboteurs known as The Werewolves that left many Allied soldiers killed or maimed. Put off by the man's bluster and sweat, Bond ascertains that Drax is using the reflection of his silver cigarette case to sneak a peek at the cards he deals. Partnering with M, Bond agrees to the high stakes Drax enjoys, ultimately switching a hand dealt by Drax with a stacked one Bond slips out of his pocket, gutting the obnoxious multimillionaire for £15,000 and M hopes, teaching him a lesson.

Nursing a hangover at work the next day, Bond barely has time to consider what he'll spend his winnings on when M calls him into his office, this time on business. Four days before the test launch of the Moonraker, two men have been killed at Drax's plant on the cliffs of Dover and Deal. An RAF security officer in charge of protecting the perimeter was shot by one of Drax's men, a German worker who was apparently jealous of the officer's relationship with Gala Brand, Drax's secretary, who unknown to the industrialist, is an agent of the Special Branch. Not wanting the launch delayed, the Cabinet has opted to replace the murdered security officer.

Bond reports to Drax Metals and is impressed by the multimillionaire. Drax's "dogsbody" Willy Krebs comes across as a sneak while Gala Brand refuses to partake in Bond's repartee. 007 uses his predecessor's files to discover that the man observed an object in the sea and was likely killed for it. Bond and Gala Brand are nearly buried during a walk on the beach when the cliffs above them are blown up. Brand discovers that Drax plans to strike London with the Moonraker. Her boss abducts her and reveals he is a German seeking revenge for his homeland. Bond gives chase in his Bentley but is captured. Taken to the plant with Gala, Bond receives a lecture by Drax but is no longer impressed.

"Yes," said Bond. He looked levelly at the great red face across the desk. "It's a remarkable case history. Galloping paranoia. Delusions of jealousy and persecution. Megalomaniac hatred and desire for revenge. Curiously enough," he went on conversationally, "it may have something to do with your teeth. Diastema, they call it. Comes from sucking your thumb when you're a child. Yes, I expect that's what the psychologists will say when they get you into the lunatic asylum. Ogre's teeth. Being bullied at school and so on. Extraordinary the effect it has on a child. Then Nazism helped to fan the flames and then came the crack on your ugly head. The crack you engineered yourself. I expect that settled it. From then on you were really mad. Same sort of thing for people who think they're God. Extraordinary, what tenacity they have. Absolute fanatics. You're almost a genius. Lombroso would have been delighted with you. As it is you're just a mad dog that'll have to be shot. Or else you'll commit suicide. Paranoiacs generally do. Too bad. Sad business."

Nearly all the wonderful things about Moonraker occur in the first half of the book. I found the details about James Bond's office space to be cheeky and fun. I can't remember seeing the 007 of film really doing anything but gambling, smoking, being briefed on his mission, seducing women and then blowing shit up. Does this man have an office? A secretary? (Miss Moneypenny is M's secretary) What are his work hours? What's his take home pay? Does he take the tube to work, or carpool? This material grounds the novel as it segues into an Esquire article on how to spot a card cheat or how to drink vodka (add pepper).

"It's a trick the Russians taught me that time you attached me to the Embassy in Moscow," apologized Bond. "There's often quite a lot of fusel oil on the surface of this stuff--at least there used to be when it was badly distilled. Poisonous. In Russia, where you get a lot of bath-tub liquor, it's an understood thing to sprinkle a little pepper in your glass. It takes the fusel oil to the bottom. I got to like the taste and now it's a habit. But I shouldn't have insulted the club Wolfschmidt," he added with a grin.

M grunted. "As long as you don't put pepper in Basildon's favorite champagne," he said drily.

The buildup to Bond and Drax's bridge duel is sophisticated, exciting and fun but climaxes everything that follows it. The goings-on of an arms factory aren't anywhere near as compelling as the action at Blades. While Gala Brand doesn't do the business with Bond (Ian Fleming being less chaste than Walt Disney but quite austere), she doesn't do much but earn 007'sprofessional respect. Fleming's comfort zone is clearly the snapshots of modern male living, with a little gambling and some pyrotechnics thrown in. I enjoyed the glimpses into 007's job and the novel's setting precludes the rampant racism of Live and Let Die, but neither the villains or Bond's straits are memorable.