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John Gardner’s second to last 007 adventure came out in 1994, and is the first novel to feature MicroGlobe One, the new British secret service.

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A powerful billionaire, obsessed with destroying the new world order, collides with James Bond in the newest John Gardner thriller.

Sir Maxwell Tarn is missing. The self-made tycoon, mastermind of a global empire that embraces some highly unusual activities, has vanished with the beautiful Lady Tarn—right from under the noses of a crack surveillance team, supposedly in the flames of a dramatic automobile accident. Now James Bond and the newly reorganized Double-Oh section of the SIS must move quickly to discover what really happened to Sir Maxwell and expose him and his operations for what they really are.

With Fredericka von Grusse—Flicka—his stunning partner introduced in Never Send Flowers, Bond follows a maze of trails from England to Spain to Israel and then to a picturesque German village overrun with neo-Nazis. Evidence of a diabolical scheme leads Bond and Flicka to Puerto Rico, where the pair must move quickly both above and below water to thwart Tarn and his master plan before his cache of deadly weapons destroys much more than a few pristine islands in the Caribbean.

Once again John Gardner proves his skills as master storyteller, in this latest 007 superadventure.

-Putnam dust jacket

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Once more Bond opened he throttle in an attempt to get even closer, but this was no place for speed. He saw the bike slew to the left, down what had once been a narrow cobbled street, but when he reached the turn there was no sign of his idling, straining in the saddle to try and catch the sound of their engine, but he world had suddenly gone silent and his mind sprang forward, latching on to the worst possibility—that the couple on the Harley had a prearranged meeting here in the shadows. If that was he case, he had lost, so he might just as well get out now and save what was left.

Bond reminded himself that he had never given up on an assignment yet, reaching inside the leather jacket to slowly remove the ASP and one spare magazine. He switched off the DaytonaÕs engine, then, with his back against the old dry and crumbling remains of the buildings, he inched forward. Instinctively, he felt that he was being watched.

It was some twenty yards to the end of the street. The first shot came as he reached the point where the cobbles ended and the remains of the buildings ran into what was virtually a T-junction. He heard the crack as the bullet hit the stone just to the left of his head, gouging a small crater, splaying dust that fell across his visor.

He ducked to the right, flicking the visor up and jumping into the ruined street that formed the crosspiece of the T, fanning his hands in a wide circle, gripping the butt of the pistol a shade too tightly

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- Chapter 9, SeaFire

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