James Bond 007 Quantum Of Solace

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It's time to get out.

Don't bleed to death.

Hello, Mitchell.

Bond.

The Americans are going to be

none too pleased about this.

I promised them Le Chiffre

and they got Le Chiffre.

They got his body.

If they'd wanted his soul they

should have made a deal with a priest.

Has he said anything?

No.

Going to check the perimeter Ma'am.

You look like hell.

When was the last time you slept?

Vesper's boyfriend, Yusef Kabira,

the one who was abducted in Morocco,

the one she was trying to save.

His body was washed

up on a beach in Ibiza.

We're meant to believe the fish did that to

his face. His wallet and ID were in his pocket.

Well that's convenient.

Quite.

Which is why I did a DNA check on a lock

of his hair found in Vesper's apartment.

It's not him.

A lock of his hair? I wouldn't have

thought Vesper the sentimental type.

Well we never really know anyone, do we?

But I do need to know Bond.

I need to know that I can trust you.

And you don't?

Well, it'd be a pretty cold bastard who didn't

want revenge for the death of someone he loved.

You don't have to worry about me.

I'm not going to go chasing

him. He's not important.

And neither was she.

It's clear Ma'am.

Thanks Mitchell.

Shall we?

You going to tell us who you work for?

I was always very

interested to meet you.

I'd heard so much about you from Vesper.

The real shame is, if she hadn't

killed herself, we would've had you too.

I think you would've

done anything for her.

Well you know you're not in Britain,

and God knows where you'll be tomorrow.

Which should tell you that eventually you

will tell us about the people you work with.

And the longer it takes, the

more painful we'll make it.

You really don't know anything about us.

It's so amusing because, we on

the other side, are thinking, oh...

the MI6, the CIA, they're

looking over our shoulders,

they're listening to our conversations, and

the truth is you don't even know we exist.

Oh we do now Mr. White,

and we're quick learners.

Well then, the first thing you should know

about us is that we have people everywhere.

Am I right?

Anything?

Craig Mitchell worked

for me for 8 years.

He passed a full security check

and lie detector test every year,

and didn't leave so much as a

scrap of paper to explain any of it.

I found this,

and three other bloody Christmas

presents I bought him, about the house.

I don't think he smoked.

And you had to kill him! You

couldn't bring him in for questioning,

so that we might

actually learn something.

When someone says "We've got people

everywhere", you expect it to be hyperbole.

Lots of people say that,

florists use that expression.

Doesn't mean they've got someone

working for them inside the bloody room.

What the hell is this organization Bond?

How can they be everywhere

and we know nothing about them?

I assume we found no trace of White.

No.

The agent guarding the door in the garage

was dead before you passed him on the stairs.

I passed him on the stairs? Christ!

Mitchell must have killed him when

he went out to check the perimeter.

You're lucky to be here.

You think White is still alive?

Yes I do.

What is it?

Craig Mitchell, 45 years

old, no living family,

Tell me that you know more than that.

Our money men went through every

bill in Mitchell's wallet and house.

How much did he have?

Less than 100 pounds.

And about the same in euros and dollars.

Excuse me, excuse me ma'am.

We've done a complete forensic analysis

of every note and its traceable history.

Not in the mood.

After you.

This particular note from Mitchell's

wallet might be of interest.

We introduced tagged bills into Le

Chiffre's money laundering operation,

by intercepting illegal payoffs.

We traced money through several of

his bank accounts around the world.

That's pretty thin.

At the rate money changes hands, you could

probably find a tenner in my robe with a tag.

That's true ma'am, a single bill could be

a coincidence, but what about a whole stack?

These bills from the

same series as Mitchell's

were just scanned at a bank

in Port au Prince, Haiti.

Deposited in the account of a Mr. Slate.

Impress me.

We have a Mr. Edmund Slate, returning to

Port au Prince from Heathrow this morning.

His entry documents have him

staying at Hotel Dessalines.

He's in room 325.

Thank you.

Your welcome.

Do you have any messages for 325?

No sir, the only message was about the

briefcase that was delivered earlier.

Did you want us to continue holding it?

- No, I'll take that now.

Yes, sir.

Thank you.

- You're welcome.

Get in!

What?

- Get in!

Fine.

You're late.

I got pulled into a meeting.

Who with?

A friend of Mr. Whites.

Don't think I know him.

It's funny,

you don't look at all like I expected.

Really?

What were you expecting?

I didn't think geologists looked so...

So?

Friend of yours?

I don't have any friends.

We didn't settle on a price.

Make me an offer.

Or we could work it

out later, over drinks.

Dominic didn't give you any trouble did he?

- No

What the hell is this?

I think someone wants to kill you.

That wasn't very nice.

You were supposed to shoot her.

Well I missed.

Get Bond.

Where is he now?

Approaching the docks, Kings Quay.

Tanner?

- I've got Bond.

Ask him about Slate.

She wants to know about Slate.

Tell her Slate was a dead end.

Slate was a dead end.

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