CC Command center operator 1
[To M]
It's 007. Bond's been poisoned. He's going into cardiac arrest. [To James] Stay calm and don't interrupt. Because you'll be dead... within two minutes unless you do exactly what I tell you.
CC Command center operator 1
Remove the defibrillator from the pouch.
CC Command center operator 1
We're still scanning. Attach the leads to your chest. Ventricular tachycardia. Digitalis.
CC Command center operator 2
What do we give him?
CC Command center operator 1
The kit has amphetamines, antihistamines... hydrocortisone. Adrenaline? As soon as it reads charged--
CC Command center operator 2
Lidocaine. That'll work.
CC Command center operator 1
Bond, don't push the red button yet. Do you hear me? Don't push it.
CC Command center operator 3
His heart's gonna stop.
CC Command center operator 1
There's only time for one charge before he passes out. Take the blue combipen, Bond. Mid-neck into the vein. That'll counteract the digitalis. You're going to pass out in a few seconds. You need to keep your heart going. Push the red button now, Bond! Bond, push the damn button! Do it now! [James realizes a wire is unplugged and passes out with Vesper appearing, inserting the red wire into the shock pad and presses the red button, reviving James]
You're welcome. Now get yourself off to a hospital.
[Gets up]
I will do. As soon as I've won this game.
You're not seriously going back there?
[Walking past her adjusting his tie nonchalantly]
I wouldn't dream of it.
[James walks up to the crime scene of Solange's murder with abuzz with CSIs]
Quite the body count you're stacking up. She was tortured first. As you'd already killed her husband... she must have been the only one left to question. Did she know anything that could compromise you?
Not your name, what you were after?
Dimitrios worked as a middleman. Knew where to put his hands on weapons... and people who could use them. He worked with anyone who had money. For years he was involved with a man we knew as Le Chiffre... a private banker to the world's terrorists. He invested their money, gave them access to it wherever they wanted. [MI6 technician appears] Oh, good. You're here. [To James] Albanian, we believe. Chess prodigy. A bit of a mathematical genius and liked to prove it by playing poker.
[In monotone voice upon being implanted with a tracking chip]
Ow. [Getting scanned] So you can keep an eye on me?
Yes. When they analyzed the stock market after 9/11... the CIA discovered a massive shorting of airline stocks. When the stocks hit bottom on 9l12, somebody made a fortune. The same thing happened this morning with Skyfleet stock... or was supposed to. With their prototype destroyed, the company would be near bankruptcy. Instead, somebody lost over $100 million betting the wrong way.
You think it's this man Le Chiffre.
Which would explain how he could set up a high-stakes poker game... at Casino Royale in Montenegro. Ten players, $10 million buy-in, 5 million re-buy. Winner takes all. Potentially 150 million.
Good. Then we'll know where he'll be. Do you want a clean kill or to send a message?
We want him alive. Le Chiffre doesn't have 100 million to lose.
Has he been playing the stock market with his clients' funds? They're not gonna be too happy when they find out it's gone. We can't let him win this game.
If he loses, he'll have nowhere to run. We'll give him sanctuary in return for everything he knows. I'm putting you in the game... replacing someone who's playing for a syndicate. According to Villiers. you're the best player in the Service. Trust me, I wish it wasn't the case. I would ask you if you could remain emotionally detached... but I don't think that's your problem, is it, Bond? [Walks away]
[Stops and turns]
Don't worry about keeping in touch. We'll know where you are.
You can stop pretending. You knew I wouldn't let this drop, didn't you?
Well, I knew you were you. [Walks away]
[Walks up to lift elevator, presses button and James walks up]
Very funny.
Look, if Le Chiffre is that well-connected... he knows who I am and where the money's from. Which means he's decided to play me anyway. So he's either desperate or he's overly confident... but either way, that tells me something about him. And all he gets in return is a name he already has.
And now he knows something about you. He knows you're reckless. [Steps into lift elevator with James] Take the next one. There isn't enough room for me and your ego.
It doesn't bother you, killing those people?
I wouldn't be very good at my job if it did.
I don't believe you. You've got a choice, you know. Just because you've done something doesn't mean you have to keep doing it.
Why is it that people who can't take advice always insist on giving it?
You think I can't take my own advice?
I think something is driving you. And I don't think I'll ever find out what that is.
Does everyone have a tell?
Yes. Everyone. Everyone except you. I wonder if that's why I love you.
Enough to float around the world with you until one of us has to find an honest job. Which I think is going to have to be you, because I have no idea what an honest job is.
It's like you said. You do what I do long enough, there won't be any soul left to salvage. I'm leaving with what little I have left. Is that enough for you?
[Vesper kisses him]
So, you're telling me it's a matter of probability and odds? I was worried there wasn't chance involved.
Well, only if you assume the player with the best hand wins.
So there will be what you call bluffing?
'Bond: [smiles] You've heard the term? [Vesper smiles back] Then you'll know that in poker you never play your hand...you play the man across from you.
And you're good at reading people?
Yes I am. Which is why I've been able to detect an undercurrent of sarcasm in your voice.
I'm now assured our money is in good hands.
You don't think this is a very good plan, do you?
So there is a plan? I got the impression we were risking millions of dollars and hundreds of lives on a game of luck. What else can you surmise, Mr. Bond?
About you, Miss Lynd? Well, your beauty's a problem. You worry you won't be taken seriously.
Which one can say of any attractive woman with half a brain.
True, but this one overcompensates by wearing slightly masculine clothing. Being more aggressive than her female colleagues. Which gives her a somewhat prickly demeanor, and ironically enough, makes it less likely for her to be accepted and promoted by her male superiors, who mistake her insecurities for arrogance. Now, I'd have normally gone with "only child," but, umm, you see, by the way you ignored the quip about your parents…I'm going to have to go with "orphan."
[Long pause]
All right…by the cut of your suit, you went to Oxford or wherever. Naturally you think human beings dress like that. But you wear it with such disdain, my guess is you didn't come from money, and your school friends never let you forget it. Which means that you were at that school by the grace of someone else's charity; hence that chip on your shoulder. And since your first thought about me ran to "orphan," that's what I'd say you are.
[Bond smiles]
Oh, you are? I like this poker thing. And that makes perfect sense! Since MI6 looks for maladjusted young men, who give little thought to sacrificing others in order to protect queen and country. You know… former SAS types with easy smiles and expensive watches. [she glances at his wrist] Rolex?
Beautiful. Now, having just met you, I wouldn't go as far as calling you a cold-hearted bastard…
But it wouldn't be a stretch to imagine. You think of women as disposable pleasures rather than meaningful pursuits. So, as charming as you are, Mr. Bond, I will be keeping my eye on our government's money and off your perfectly formed arse.
[smiles ironically]
You noticed.
Even accountants have imagination. How was your lamb?
Skewered. One sympathises.
[pause]
Good evening, Mr. Bond.
Villiers [calling M up in the middle of the night]
He's in the Bahamas.
You woke me to share his holiday plans?
Villiers He's logged into our secure website, using your name and password.
How the hell does he know these things?
[A bartender comes to the poker table to take drink orders.]
Dry martini.
B Bartender
Oui, monsieur.
Wait. Three measures of Gordon's gin, one of vodka, half a measure of Kina Lillet. Shake it over ice and add a thin slice of lemon peel.
Tomelli You know, I'll have one of those.
Infante So will I.
Felix Leiter My friend, bring me one as well. Keep the fruit.
[annoyed]
That's it? Hmm? Anyone want to play poker now?
Leiter Someone's in a hurry.
[Bond and Vesper read up on their cover identities, "Arlington Beech" and "Stephanie Broadchest"]
We've been involved for quite a long while, hence the shared suite.
But my family is strict Roman Catholic, so for appearance's sake, it'll be a two-bedroom suite.
[sarcastically]
I do hate it when religion comes between us.
Religion and a locked door. Am I going to have a problem with you, Bond?
Don't worry. You're not my type.
[Bond brings in a beautiful purple dress and hangs it on the bathroom door]
Something you expect me to wear?
When you walk in and kiss me wearing that, the other players will be thinking of your neckline rather than their cards. Do you think you could do that for me?
[sarcastically]
I'll do my best.
[Bond walks out of the bathroom and notices a dinner jacket lying on his bed. He walks back into the bathroom, holding the dinner jacket]
I have a dinner jacket.
There are dinner jackets and dinner jackets; this is the latter. And I need you looking like a man who belongs at that table.
I sized you up the moment we met.
[Bond has been stripped naked, tied to a bottomless chair, and tortured with repeated lashes to the testicles from Le Chiffre's knotted rope in order to force him to reveal the password for the Swiss bank account.]
Miss Lynd will give me the account number, if she hasn't already, so all I need from you is the password.
[Bond glares icily at Le Chiffre.] [sternly] The password, please.
[defiantly]
I've got a little itch…down there. Would you mind?
[Le Chiffre whips Bond's testicles.] [screams in agony]
No! No! No! No…TO THE RIGHT, TO THE RIGHT, TO THE RIGHT!
You are a funny man, Mr. Bond. [lashes him again]
[screams in pain]
Yes, yes, yes! [starts laughing maniacally] Now the whole world's gonna know that you died scratching my balls!
Yes, because no matter what you do, I'm not going to give you the password, which means your clients are going to hunt you down and cut you into little pieces of meat while you're still breathing! Because if you kill me, there'll be nowhere left to hide.
Oh, but you are SO WRONG! Because even after I slaughter you and your little girlfriend, your people would still welcome me with open arms! Because they need what I know.
[resigned]
The big picture.
[From the other room, Vesper screams - Bond and Le Chiffre notice it]
Yes. Now give me the password, and I will at least let her live. [slaps him on the cheek] Come on, Bond. Do it soon enough and she might even be in one piece.
[Bond starts laughing]
You're really not going to tell me, are you?
[Le Chiffre knocks Bond on his back and brandishes a knife]
Then…I think I'll feed you what you seem not to value.
[Suddenly, two gunshots are heard and Mr. White charges into the room, pointing a gun at Le Chiffre]
I'll get the money. Tell them I'll get the money.
Mr. White Money isn't as valuable to our organization as knowing who to trust. [Mr. White shoots Le Chiffre dead]
