— I can see the face of the other man now.
— Krilencu! So, he's back. Another Bulgarian they use as a killer. Just the man for the limpet mine job. I've had trouble with him before. But he's stayed out of Istanbul for over a year now. Take a look. You should remember him. This man kills for pleasure.
— Stay where you are!
— I can assure you, my intentions are strictly honorable.
— What's your name?
— Ryder.
— Ryder what?
— Honey Ryder.
— What's so funny about it?
— Nothing. It's a very pretty name.
— So you're Tatiana Romanova.
— My friends call me Tania.
— Mine call me James Bond. Now that we've been properly introduced...
— Careful! Guns upset me.
— I'm sorry. I'm a bit upset myself. You look just like your photograph. You're one of the most beautiful girls I've ever seen.
— Thank you, but I think my mouth is too big.
— No, it's the right size. For me, that is.
— I've got something for you. <...> You arm it by pressing that button there. Like that. See? Right. Now wear that. Right. Now... Whistle
the first bars of "Rule, Britannia." Stun gas. Effective range? Ooh, about five feet. Disorientates any normal person for about... Ooh, 30 seconds. <...>
— What is it to blow up the room — "God Save the Queen"?
James Bond: — Miss Kennedy would you get me a medium-dry Vodka Martini?
Pam Bouvier: — Well, why don't you ask...
James Bond: — Shaken, not stirred.
— But what's on your mind? I'm on holiday.
— Not anymore, you're not. Signal from London.
— Might have known M wouldn't book me into the best hotel in Miami Beach out of pure gratitude.
— He asked us to keep an eye on him for you.
— Auric Goldfinger. Sounds like a French nail varnish.
— He's British, but he doesn't sound like it. Big operator. Worldwide interests, all apparently quite reputable. Owns one of the finest stud farms in the States.
— My friend. Come in. Come in. Glad to see you. Welcome to Istanbul.
— Thank you for sending the car, but it does rather tie you in with me.
— You're in the Balkans now, Mr. Bond. The game with the Russians is played a little differently here. The day-to-day routine matters, we don't make it too difficult to keep a tab on each other.
— So I gathered from your chauffeur. He's a rather intelligent young man.
— He should be. He's my son. Coffee?
— Medium sweet.
— Two, medium sweet. He also is my son. All of my key employees are my sons. Blood is the best security in this business.
— I get a kick out of watching the great James Bond find out what a bloody fool he's been making of himself. We're pros, Mr. Bond. We sweated your recognition code out of one of your men in Tokyo before he died. I've been keeping tabs on you. I've been your guardian angel. Saved your life at the gypsy camp.
— Yes. I'm much obliged.
— We were keeping you alive until you could get us the Lektor.
— Morning, Q.
— Good morning, 007. This way, please. My, we are busy this morning. It's not perfected yet.
— Where's my Bentley?
— Oh, it's had its day, I'm afraid.
— But it's never let me down.
— M's orders, 007. You'll be using this Aston Martin D85, with modifications. Now, pay attention, please. Windscreen, bulletproof. As are the side and the rear windows. Revolving number plates, naturally. Valid all countries. Here's a nice little transmitting device called a homer. You prime it by pressing that back like this. You see? The smaller model is now standard field issue, to be fitted into the heel of your shoe. Its larger brother is magnetic. Right. To be concealed in the car you're trailing while you keep out of sight. Reception on the dashboard here. Auto-visual. Range, 150 miles.
— Ingenious. And useful, too. Allow a man to stop off for a quick one en route.
— It has not been perfected after years of patient research entirely for that purpose, 007. And incidentally, we'd appreciate its return, along with all
your other equipment, intact, for once, when you return from the field.
