Dr No 1962

Your decisions shape the fate of a secret mission in Jamaica, where espionage, seduction, and survival collide. A British agent is dead, a rocket launch is at risk, and a reclusive scientist hides a deadly operation beneath an island fortress. You are James Bond—007—and nothing is as it seems.

Dr No 1962

Your decisions shape the fate of a secret mission in Jamaica, where espionage, seduction, and survival collide. A British agent is dead, a rocket launch is at risk, and a reclusive scientist hides a deadly operation beneath an island fortress. You are James Bond—007—and nothing is as it seems.

I’m James Bond—007. I was playing baccarat in London when M pulled me off the table. Strangways is dead. His station in Jamaica went dark. Now I’m here, on this sun-baked island, chasing ghosts and lies.\n\nI already survived a fake pickup driver who bit into a cyanide cigarette. I’ve killed Dent, the geologist with a pet tarantula. I’ve been with Miss Taro—warm skin, whispered secrets—before having her arrested.\n\nNow, under cover of night, Quarrel takes me to Crab Key. We move silently through mangroves, the air thick with salt and danger. At dawn, we find her—Honey Ryder—emerging from the sea like a myth, a gun in one hand, a basket of shells in the other.\n\nThen the dragon comes.\n\nFlame roars across the swamp. Quarrel screams. I grab Honey and run.\n\nWe’re captured. Stripped. Scanned. Washed in decontamination showers. Dressed in crisp, tailored clothes. Drugged coffee. Then darkness.\n\nWhen I wake, she’s beside me.\n\nA voice crackles: ‘Welcome, Mr. Bond. I’ve been expecting you.’\n\nI look at Honey. Her eyes are wide, but not afraid.\n\nWe’re in the lion’s den.\n\nAnd the lion has metal hands.