It is appropriate that among this extremely respectable company of tenants, suitably diversified14 by a couple of churches, a small museum and the French Shakespeare Society, you should also find the headquarters of charitable organizations. At No. 136 bis , for instance, a discreetly15 glittering brass plate says: ?F.I.R.C.O.? and, underneath16: ? Fraternité Internationale de la Résistance Contre l'Oppression .? If you were interested in this organization, either as an idealist or because you were a salesman of, say, office furniture, and you pressed the very clean porcelain17 bell button, the door would in due course be opened by an entirely typical French concierge18. If your business was serious or obviously well-meaning, the concierge would show you across a rather dusty hall to tall, bogus Directoire double doors adjoining the over-ornamented cage of a shaky-looking lift. Inside the doors you would be greeted by exactly what you had expected to see-a large dingy19 room needing a fresh coat of its café-au-lait paint, in which half a dozen men sat at cheap desks and typed or wrote amidst the usual accouterments of a busy organization-IN and OUT baskets, telephones, in this case the old-fashioned standard ones that are typical of such an office in this part of Paris, and dark green metal filing cabinets in which drawers stand open. If you were observant of small details, you might register that all the men were of approximately the same age group, between thirty and forty, and that in an office where you would have expected to find women doing the secretarial work, there were none.
Inside the tall door you would receive the slightly defensive20 welcome appropriate to a busy organization accustomed to the usual proportion of cranks and time-wasters but, in response to your serious inquiry21, the face of the man at the desk near the door would clear and become cautiously helpful. The aims of the Fraternity? We exist, monsieur, to keep alive the ideals that flourished during the last war among members of all Resistance groups. No, monsieur, we are entirely unpolitical. Our funds? They come from modest subscriptions22 from our members and from certain private persons who share our aims. You have perhaps a relative, a member of a Resistance group, whose whereabouts you seek? Certainly, monsieur. The name? Gregor Karlski, last heard of with Mihailovitch in the summer of 1943. Jules! (He might turn to a particular man and call out.) Karlski, Gregor. Mihailovitch, 1943. Jules would go to a cabinet and there would be a brief pause. Then the reply might come back, Dead. Killed in the bombing of the General's headquarters, October 21st, 1943. I regret, monsieur. Is there anything further we can do for you? Then perhaps you would care to have some of our literature. Forgive me for not having time to spare to give you more details of FIRCO myself. But you will find everything there. This happens to be a particularly busy day. This is the International Refugee Year and we have many inquiries23 such as yours from all over the world. Good afternoon, monsieur. Pas de quoi . So, or more or less so, it would be and you would go out on to the Boulevard satisfied and even impressed with an organization that was doing its excellent if rather vague work with so much dedication24 and efficiency.
On the day after James Bond had completed his nature cure and had left for London after, the night before, scoring a most satisfactory left and right of Spaghetti Bolognese and Chianti at Lucien's in Brighton and of Miss Patricia Fearing on the squab seats from her bubble car high up on the Downs, an emergency meeting of the trustees of FIRCO was called for seven o'clock in the evening. The men, for they were all men, came from all over Europe, by train or car or airplane, and they entered No. 136 bis singly or in pairs, some by the front door and some by the back, at intervals25 during the late afternoon and evening. Each man had his allotted26 time for arriving at these meetings-so many minutes, up to two hours, before zero hour-and each man alternated between the back and the front door from meeting to meeting. Now there were two ?concierges27? for each door and other less obvious security measures-warning systems, closed-circuit television scanning of the two entrances, and complete sets of dummy28 FIRCO minutes, backed up one hundred per cent by the current business of the FIRCO organization on the ground floor. Thus, if necessary, the deliberations of the ?trustees? could, in a matter only of seconds, be switched from clandestine29 to overt30-as solidly overt as any meeting of principals in the Boulevard Haussmann could possibly be.
At seven o'clock precisely31 the twenty men who made up this organization strode, lounged, or sidled, each according to his character, into the workmanlike board room on the third floor. Their chairman was already in his seat. No greetings were exchanged. They were ruled by the chairman to be a waste of breath and, in an organization of this nature, hypocritical. The men filed round the table and took their places at their numbers, the numbers from one to twenty-one that were their only names and that, as a small security precaution, advanced round the rota by two digits32 at midnight on the first of every month. Nobody smoked-drinking was taboo33 and smoking frowned upon- and nobody bothered to glance down at the bogus FIRCO agenda on the table in front of him. They sat very still and looked up the table at the chairman with expressions of the sharpest interest and what, in lesser34 men, would have been obsequious35 respect.
Any man seeing No. 2, for that was the chairman's number of the month, even for the first time would have looked at him with some degree of the same feelings, for he was one of those men-one meets perhaps only two or three in a lifetime-who seem almost to suck the eyes out of your head. These rare men are apt to possess three basic attributes-their physical appearance is extraordinary, they have a quality of relaxation36, of inner certainty, and they exude37 a powerful animal magnetism38. The herd39 has always recognized the other-worldliness of these phenomena40, and in primitive41 tribes you will find that any man singled out by nature in this fashion will also have been chosen by the tribe to be their chief. Certain great men of history, perhaps Genghis Khan, Alexander the Great, Napoleon, among the politicians, have had these qualities. Perhaps they even explain the hypnotic sway of an altogether more meager42 individual, the otherwise inexplicable43 Adolf Hitler, over eighty million of the most gifted nation in Europe. Certainly, No. 2 had these qualities and any man in the street would have recognized them-let alone these twenty chosen men. For them, despite the deep cynicism ingrained in their respective callings, despite their basic insensitivity toward the human race, he was, however reluctantly, their Supreme44 Commander-almost their god.
This man's name was Ernst Stavro Blofeld and he was born in Gdynia of a Polish father and a Greek mother on May 28th, 1908. After matriculating in economics and political history at the University of Warsaw he studied engineering and radionics at the Warsaw Technical Institute and at the age of twenty-five obtained a modest post in the central administration of the Ministry45 of Posts and Telegraphs. This would seem a curious choice for such a highly gifted youth, but Blofeld had come to an interesting conclusion about the future of the World. He had decided46 that fast and accurate communication lay, in a contracting world, at the very heart of power. Knowledge of the truth before the next man, in peace or war, lay, he thought, behind every correct decision in history and was the source of all great reputations. He was doing very well on this theory, watching the cables and radiograms that passed through his hands at the Central Post Office and buying or selling on margin47 on the Warsaw Bourse-only occasionally, when he was absolutely certain, but then very big-when the basic nature of the postal48 traffic changed. Now Poland was mobilizing for war and a spate49 of munition50 orders and diplomatic cables poured through his department. Blofeld changed his tactics. This was valuable stuff, worth nothing to him, but priceless to the enemy. Clumsily at first, and then more expertly, he contrived51 to take copies of cables, choosing, for the ciphers52 hid their contents from him, only those prefixed ?MOST IMMEDIATE54? or ?MOST SECRET.? Then, working carefully, he built up in his head a network of fictitious55 agents. These were real but small people in the various embassies and armament firms to whom most of the traffic was addressed-a junior cipher53 clerk in the British Embassy, a translator working for the French, private secretaries-real ones-in the big firms. These names were easily obtained from the diplomatic lists, by ringing up a firm and asking Inquiries for the name of the chairman's private secretary. He was speaking for the Red Cross. They wished to discuss the possibility of a donation from the chairman. And so on. When Blofeld had all his names right, he christened his network TARTAR and made a discreet approach to the German Military Attache with one or two specimens56 of its work. He was rapidly passed on to the representative of AMT IV of the Abwehr, and from then on things were easy. When this pot was bubbling merrily, and the money (he refused to accept payment except in American dollars) coming in (it came in fast; he explained that he had so many agents to pay off), he proceeded to widen his market. He considered the Russians but dismissed them, and the Czechs, as probable non-, or at any rate slow-, payers. Instead he chose the Americans and the Swedes, and money positively57 showered in on him. He soon realized, for he was a man of almost mimosaic sensibility in matters of security, that the pace could not possibly last. There would be a leak: perhaps between the Swedish and German secret services, who he knew (for through his contacts with their spies he was picking up the gossip of his new trade) were working closely together in some territories; or through Allied59 counter-espionage60 or their cryptographic services; or else one of his notional agents would die or be transferred without his knowledge while he continued to use the name as a source. Anyway, by now he had $200,000 and there was the added spur that the war was getting too close for comfort. It was time for him to be off into the wide world-into one of the safe bits of it. Blofeld carried out his withdrawal61 expertly. First he slowly petered off the service. Security, he explained, was being tightened62 up by the English and the French. Perhaps there had been a leak-he looked with mild reproof63 into the eyes of his contact-this secretary had had a change of heart, that one was asking too much money. Then he went to his friend on the Bourse and, after sealing his lips with a thousand dollars, had all his funds invested in Shell Bearer Bonds in Amsterdam and thence transferred to a Numbered Safe Deposit box with the Diskonto Bank in Zurich. Before the final step of telling his contacts that he was brulé and that the Polish Deuxième Bureau was sniffing64 at his heels, he paid a visit to Gdynia, called on the registrar65 and on the church where he had been baptized and, on the pretext66 of looking up details of an invented friend, neatly67 cut out the page recording68 his own name and birth. It remained only to locate the passport factory that operates in every big seaport69 and purchase a Canadian seaman's passport for $2,000. Then he was off to Sweden by the next boat. After a pause in Stockholm for a careful look round the world and some cool thinking about the probable course of the war, he flew to Turkey on his original Polish passport, transferred his money from Switzerland to the Ottoman Bank in Istanbul, and waited for Poland to fall. When, in due course, this happened, he claimed refuge in Turkey and spent a little money among the right officials in order to get his claim established. Then he settled down. Ankara Radio was glad to have his expert services and he set up RAHIR, another espionage service built on the lines of TARTAR, but rather more solidly. Blofeld wisely waited to ascertain70 the victor before selling his wares71, and it was only when Rommel had been kicked out of Africa that he plumped for the Allies. He finished the war in a blaze of glory and prosperity and with decorations or citations72 from the British, Americans, and French. Then, with half a million dollars in Swiss banks and a Swedish passport in the name of Serge Angstrom, he slipped off to South America for a rest, some good food, and a fresh think.
And now Ernst Blofeld, the name to which he had decided it was perfectly73 safe to return, sat in the quiet room in the Boulevard Hauss-mann, gazed slowly round the faces of his twenty men, and looked for eyes that didn't squarely meet his. Blofeld's own eyes were deep black pools surrounded-totally surrounded, as Mussolini's were-by very clear whites. The doll-like effect of this unusual symmetry was enhanced by long silken black eyelashes that should have belonged to a woman. The gaze of these soft doll's eyes was totally relaxed and rarely held any expression stronger than a mild curiosity in the object of their focus. They conveyed a restful certitude in their owner and in their analysis of what they observed. To the innocent they exuded74 confidence, a wonderful cocoon75 of confidence in which the observed one could rest and relax, knowing that he was in comfortable, reliable hands. But they stripped the guilty or the false and made him feel transparent76-as transparent as a fishbowl through whose sides Blofeld examined, with only the most casual curiosity, the few solid fish, the grains of truth, suspended in the void of deceit or attempted obscurity. Blofeld's gaze was a microscope, the window on the world of a superbly clear brain, with a focus that had been sharpened by thirty years of danger, and of keeping just one step ahead of it, and of an inner self-assurance built up on a lifetime of success in whatever he hadattempted.
The skin beneath the eyes that now slowly, mildly, surveyed his colleagues was unpouched. There was no sign of debauchery, illness, or old age on the large, white, bland77 face under the square, wiry black crew-cut. The jaw78 line, going to the appropriate middle-aged79 fat of authority, showed decision and independence. Only the mouth, under a heavy, squat80 nose, marred81 what might have been the face of a philosopher or a scientist. Proud and thin, like a badly healed wound, the compressed, dark lips, capable only of false, ugly smiles, suggested contempt, tyranny, and cruelty-but to an almost Shakespearian degree. Nothing about Blofeld was small.
Blofeld's body weighed about two hundred and eighty pounds. It had once been all muscle-he had been an amateur weight-lifter in his youth-but in the past ten years it had softened82 and he had a vast belly83 that he concealed84 behind roomy trousers and well-cut double-breasted suits, tailored, that evening, out of beige doeskin. Blofeld's hands and feet were long and pointed85. They were quick-moving when they wanted to be, but normally, as now, they were still and reposed86. For the rest, he didn't smoke or drink and he had never been known to sleep with a member of either sex. He didn't even eat very much. So far as vices58 or physical weaknesses were concerned, Blofeld had always been an enigma87 to everyone who had known him.
The twenty men who looked up the long table at this man and waited patiently for him to speak were a curious mixture of national types. But they had certain characteristics in common. They were all in the thirty-to-forty age-group, they all looked extremely fit, and nearly all of them-there were two who were different-had quick, hard, predatory eyes, the eyes of the wolves and the hawks88 that prey89 upon the herd. The two who were different were both scientists with scientists' other-worldly eyes-Kotze, the East German physicist90 who had come over to the West five years before and had exchanged his secrets for a modest pension and retirement91 in Switzerland, and Maslov, formerly92 Kandinsky, the Polish electronics expert who, in 1956, had resigned as head of the radio research department of Philips AG of Eindhoven and had then disappeared into obscurity. The other eighteen men consisted of cells of three (Blofeld accepted the Communist triangle system for security reasons) from six national groups and, within these groups, from six of the world's great criminal and subversive93 organizations. There were three Sicilians from the top echelon94 of the unione Siciliano, the Mafia; three Corsican Frenchmen from the union Corse, the secret society contemporary with and similar to the Mafia that runs nearly all organized crime in France; three former members of SMERSH, the Soviet95 organization for the execution of traitors96 and enemies of the State that had been disbanded on the orders of Khrushchev in 1958 and replaced by the Special Executive Department of the M.W.D.; three of the top surviving members of the former Sonderdienst of the Gestapo; three tough Yugoslav operatives who had resigned from Marshal Tito's Secret Police, and three highland97 Turks (the Turks of the plains are no good) formerly members of Blofeld's RAHIR and subsequently responsible for KRYSTAL, the important Middle East heroin98 pipeline99 whose outlet100 is Beirut. These eighteen men, all experts in conspiracy101, in the highest ranges of secret communication and action and, above all, of silence, also shared one supreme virtue-every man had a solid cover. Every man possessed102 a valid103 passport with up-to-date visas for the principal countries in the world, and an entirely clean sheet with Interpol and with their respective national police forces. That factor alone, the factor of each man's cleanliness after a lifetime in big crime, was his highest qualification for membership of S.P.E.C.T.R.E.-The Special Executive for Counterintelligence, Terrorism, Revenge, and Extortion.
The founder104 and chairman of this private enterprise for private profit was Ernst Stavro Blofeld.
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1
rue
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| n.懊悔，芸香，后悔；v.后悔，悲伤，懊悔 | |
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2
tenants
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| n.房客( tenant的名词复数 )；佃户；占用者；占有者 | |
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3
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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residential
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| adj.提供住宿的；居住的；住宅的 | |
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discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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7
alleviation
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| n. 减轻，缓和，解痛物 | |
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8
punitive
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| adj.惩罚的，刑罚的 | |
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9
briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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10
bastard
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| n.坏蛋，混蛋；私生子 | |
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11
ornamented
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| adj.花式字体的v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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12
shipping
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| n.船运（发货，运输，乘船） | |
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13
concealing
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，遮住( conceal的现在分词 ) | |
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14
diversified
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| adj.多样化的，多种经营的v.使多样化，多样化( diversify的过去式和过去分词 )；进入新的商业领域 | |
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15
discreetly
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| ad.(言行)审慎地，慎重地 | |
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16
underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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17
porcelain
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| n.瓷；adj.瓷的，瓷制的 | |
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18
concierge
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| n.管理员；门房 | |
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19
dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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20
defensive
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| adj.防御的；防卫的；防守的 | |
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21
inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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subscriptions
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| n.（报刊等的）订阅费( subscription的名词复数 )；捐款；（俱乐部的）会员费；捐助 | |
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23
inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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24
dedication
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| n.奉献，献身，致力，题献，献辞 | |
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intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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allotted
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| 分配，拨给，摊派( allot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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concierges
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| n.看门人，门房( concierge的名词复数 ) | |
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28
dummy
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| n.假的东西；(哄婴儿的)橡皮奶头 | |
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clandestine
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| adj.秘密的，暗中从事的 | |
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overt
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| adj.公开的，明显的，公然的 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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32
digits
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| n.数字( digit的名词复数 )；手指，足趾 | |
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taboo
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| n.禁忌，禁止接近，禁止使用；adj.禁忌的；v.禁忌，禁制，禁止 | |
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lesser
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| adj.次要的，较小的；adv.较小地，较少地 | |
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obsequious
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| adj.谄媚的，奉承的，顺从的 | |
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relaxation
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| n.松弛，放松；休息；消遣；娱乐 | |
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exude
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| v.(使)流出，(使)渗出 | |
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magnetism
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| n.磁性，吸引力，磁学 | |
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herd
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| n.兽群，牧群；vt.使集中，把…赶在一起 | |
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phenomena
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| n.现象 | |
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41
primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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42
meager
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| adj.缺乏的，不足的，瘦的 | |
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inexplicable
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| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
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supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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45
ministry
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| n.(政府的)部；牧师 | |
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46
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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47
margin
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| n.页边空白；差额；余地，余裕；边，边缘 | |
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48
postal
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| adj.邮政的，邮局的 | |
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49
spate
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| n.泛滥，洪水，突然的一阵 | |
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50
munition
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| n.军火；军需品；v.给某部门提供军火 | |
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51
contrived
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| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
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52
ciphers
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| n.密码( cipher的名词复数 )；零；不重要的人；无价值的东西 | |
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53
cipher
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| n.零；无影响力的人；密码 | |
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54
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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55
fictitious
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| adj.虚构的，假设的；空头的 | |
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56
specimens
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| n.样品( specimen的名词复数 )；范例；（化验的）抽样；某种类型的人 | |
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57
positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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58
vices
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| 缺陷( vice的名词复数 )； 恶习； 不道德行为； 台钳 | |
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59
allied
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| adj.协约国的；同盟国的 | |
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60
espionage
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| n.间谍行为，谍报活动 | |
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61
withdrawal
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| n.取回，提款；撤退，撤军；收回，撤销 | |
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62
tightened
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| 收紧( tighten的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）变紧； （使）绷紧； 加紧 | |
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63
reproof
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| n.斥责，责备 | |
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64
sniffing
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| n.探查法v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的现在分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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65
registrar
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| n.记录员，登记员；(大学的)注册主任 | |
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pretext
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| n.借口，托词 | |
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neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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recording
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| n.录音，记录 | |
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seaport
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| n.海港，港口，港市 | |
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ascertain
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| vt.发现，确定，查明，弄清 | |
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wares
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| n. 货物, 商品 | |
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72
citations
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| n.引用( citation的名词复数 )；引证；引文；表扬 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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exuded
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| v.缓慢流出，渗出，分泌出( exude的过去式和过去分词 )；流露出对（某物）的神态或感情 | |
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75
cocoon
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| n.茧 | |
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transparent
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| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
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bland
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| adj.淡而无味的，温和的，无刺激性的 | |
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jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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middle-aged
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| adj.中年的 | |
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squat
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| v.蹲坐，蹲下；n.蹲下；adj.矮胖的，粗矮的 | |
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marred
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| adj. 被损毁, 污损的 | |
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softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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belly
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| n.肚子，腹部；(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分，膛 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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reposed
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| v.将（手臂等）靠在某人（某物）上( repose的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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enigma
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| n.谜，谜一样的人或事 | |
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hawks
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| 鹰( hawk的名词复数 )； 鹰派人物，主战派人物 | |
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prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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physicist
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| n.物理学家，研究物理学的人 | |
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retirement
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| n.退休，退职 | |
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formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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subversive
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| adj.颠覆性的，破坏性的；n.破坏份子，危险份子 | |
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echelon
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| n.梯队；组织系统中的等级；v.排成梯队 | |
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Soviet
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| adj.苏联的，苏维埃的；n.苏维埃 | |
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traitors
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| 卖国贼( traitor的名词复数 )； 叛徒； 背叛者； 背信弃义的人 | |
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highland
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| n.(pl.)高地，山地 | |
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heroin
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| n.海洛因 | |
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pipeline
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| n.管道，管线 | |
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outlet
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| n.出口/路；销路；批发商店；通风口；发泄 | |
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conspiracy
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| n.阴谋，密谋，共谋 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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valid
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| adj.有确实根据的；有效的；正当的，合法的 | |
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Founder
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| n.创始者，缔造者 | |
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