Here we find Bond scoping out a terrorist arms bazaar on the Russian border as part of a joint Anglo-Russian mission, and doing such a good job that the gathered military men on the other side of his satellite uplink decide to lob a cruise missile into the camp to wipe them all out. Unfortunately, these kinds of remote strikes tend to have their downsides — like when one of the planes for sale happens to be carrying “enough plutonium to make Chernobyl look like picnic,” as the Russian military observer puts it, and your “abort missile” button no longer seems to be working.
With four minutes till total annihilation, Bond takes matters into his own hands, pausing briefly to punch out a terrorist guard who asks him for a light (“A filthy habit,” Bond mutters — Oh, James, how you’ve changed) before the carnage begins. Bond walks into an encampment of hardened terrorists who not only are carrying weapons but are there for the sole purpose of buying and selling even more weapons, and for some reason while he turns the whole place to swiss cheese, and escapes with the plane, nobody manages to land a finger on him. We guess it wouldn’t be the first time.