Casino Royale

M really doesn't mind you earning a little money on the side, Dryden.

She'd just prefer it if it wasn't selling secrets.

If the theatrics are supposed to scare me

you have the wrong man, Bond.

If M was so sure I was bent

she'd have sent a double-0.

Benefits of being section chief

I'd know if anyone had been promoted to double-0 status

wouldn't I?

- Your file shows no kills, and it takes... - Two.

Shame.

We barely got to know each other.

I know where you keep your gun.

I suppose that's something.

True.

How did he die?

Your contact?

Not well.

Made you feel it, did he?

Well

you needn't worry.

The second is...

Yes.

Considerably.

So how do I trust this man that I've never met with my money?

You asked for the introduction.

That's all my organisation will guarantee.

I suppose our friend Mr White will have told you

that I have provided reliable banking services

for many other freedom fighters over the years.

Do you believe in God, Mr Le Chiffre?

No.

I believe in a reasonable rate of return.

I want no risk in the portfolio.

Agreed.

And I can access it anywhere in the world?

Yes.

I have the money, so short another million shares

of Skyfleet stock.

Sir, you must know you're betting against the market.

No one expects this stock to go anywhere but up.

Just do it.

Looks like our man. Burn scars on his face.

I wonder if bomb-makers are insured for things like that.

He's on the move.

He's on the move, and he's heading straight for me.

Stop touching your ear.

- Sorry? - Put your hand down.

Holster the bloody weapon, Carter. I need him alive.

Weeping blood comes merely from a derangement of the tear duct

my dear general.

Nothing sinister.

All in.

I have two pair, and you have a 17.4 percent chance

of making your straight.

When does Ellipsis expire?

- We have less than 36 hours. I can... - No. No, no.

That's all the time I have anyway.

Give our guests five minutes to leave

or throw them overboard.

Who the hell do they think they are?

I report to the prime minister, even he's smart enough

not to ask me what we do.

Have you ever seen such a bunch of self-righteous, arse-covering prigs?

They don't care what we do, they care what we get photographed doing.

And how the hell could Bond be so stupid?

I give him double-0 status, he celebrates by shooting an embassy.

Is the man deranged? And where the hell is he?

In the old days, if an agent did something embarrassing

he'd have the good sense to defect.

Christ, I miss the Cold War.

You've got a bloody cheek.

Sorry.

I'll shoot the camera first next time.

Or yourself.

You stormed into an embassy.

You violated the only absolutely inviolate rule

of international relationships.

And why? So you could kill a nobody.

We wanted to question him, not kill him.

For God's sake. You're supposed to display some kind of judgement.

I did.

I thought one less bomb-maker in the world would be good.

Exactly. One bomb-maker.

We're trying to find out

how an entire network of terrorist groups is financed

and you give us one bomb-maker.

Hardly the big picture, wouldn't you say?

The man isn't even a true believer. He's a gun for hire.

And thanks to your trigger finger

we have no idea who hired him or why.

And how the hell did you find out where I lived?

The same way I found out your name.

I thought "M" was randomly assigned. I had no idea it stood for...

Utter one more syllable and I'll have you killed.

I knew it was too early to promote you.

Well, I understand double-0s have a very short life-expectancy

so your mistake will be short-lived.

Bond, this may be too much for a blunt instrument to understand

but arrogance and self-awareness seldom go hand in hand.

So you want me to be half monk, half hit-man?

Any thug can kill.

I want you to take your ego out of the equation

and to judge the situation dispassionately.

I have to know I can trust you, and that you know who to trust.

And since I don't know that, I need you out of my sight.

Go and stick your head in the sand somewhere

and think about your future.

Because these bastards want your head.

And I'm seriously considering feeding you to them.

And Bond

don't ever break into my house again.

Ma'am.

Good day, sir, and welcome to the Ocean Club.

Hey. Hey.

Hello.

Are you going to take this or make me wait?

Certainly, sir. Sorry, sir.

Security to car park. Security to car park.

Absolutely incredible.

Welcome to the Ocean Club, sir. Checking in?

Yes. But it's a spur-of-the-moment thing, and I haven't got a reservation.

Okay.

- We have an ocean-view villa. - Perfect.

Could you do me a favour? I was here last night

and I parked my car next to a very beautiful 1964 Aston Martin.

I nicked the door. You wouldn't happen to know...?

- Mr Dimitrios. - Right.

If he hasn't noticed, I'm not sure I'd mention it.

Isn't the type to take bad news well.

But if I felt compelled to find him?

He has a house just up the beach.

Thank you.

- What? - He's in the Bahamas.

You woke me to share his holiday plans?

Well, he's logged into our secure website

using your name and password.

Well, how the hell does he know these things?

Well, I'm doing my best to find out.

- Who's he looking at? - Alex Dimitrios.

That slimy bugger.

Now known associates.

Le Chiffre.

We've had a good night, we've had a few drinks.

How can I assist you, sir?

Good evening. Large Mount Gay with soda, please.

- Look what just happened. - Good job, big boy.

Yeah.

Do you mind if I join?

- Oh, good evening. How are you? - Good evening.

Small blind, big blind.

I'm in.

Bet's to you.

If that was for luck, you're two hours late.

Two hundred to you.

Bet's to you.

I heard you.

Five to call.

- Action's to you. - Pair of sevens.

Ace high.

Check or bet.

- Check. - And to you.

Five thousand.

Five to call.

- Check. - Check to you, sir.

All in.

No, wait.

Twenty thousand.

Table stakes. I'm sorry, sir.

Okay. This is on the table. That's my car. Wanna bet?

I'm sorry, Mr Dimitrios.

Please, no. Give him a chance to win his money back.

All right, show me, gentlemen.

Three kings.

There you go with my night.

Trip aces.

Aces win.

Oh, and the valet ticket.

Thank you.

Sir.

- Thank you. - Thank you, sir.

No wonder he was in such a foul mood.

My mistake.

Can I give you a lift home?

That would really send him over the edge.

I'm afraid I'm not that cruel.

Well, perhaps you're just out of practise.

Perhaps.

Well, what about a drink at my place?

Your place?

- Is it close? - Very.

One drink.

Good evening, sir, and welcome back.

Welcome to my home.

I'm having a hard time seeing how this is my fault.

It's your plan. All I did was get you the man.

A man who was under surveillance by the British Secret Service.

Which makes me wonder if I can trust you at all.

Then don't. I couldn't care less.

But I do care about my reputation.