By noon, the submarines Ranger and Potemkin will have reached their designated firing...

Stromberg: By noon, the submarines Ranger and Potemkin will have reached their designated firing positions. Within minutes, New York City and Moscow will cease to exist. Global devastation will follow, and a new era will begin. James Bond: All right, Stromberg; you've made your point. Now, how much do you want? Stromberg: How much of *what*, Mr. Bond? James Bond: What's your price for NOT launching those nuclear missiles? Stromberg: [chuckles] Mr. Bond, I'm not interested in extortion. I intend to change the face of history. Major Anya Amasova: By destroying the world? Stromberg: By *creating* a world, a new and beautiful world beneath the sea. Today's civilization, as we know it, is corrupt and decedent. Inevitably, it will destroy itself. I'm merely - accelerating the process. Major Anya Amasova: That rationalizes thermonuclear genocide feebly at best. Stromberg: For that, Major, I will accept the judgement of posterity. Major Anya Amasova: [CUTTING-ROOM FLOOR-LINE] I can give it to you here and now: "Karl Stromberg was a mass murderer who made Joseph Stalin seem like a common playground hooligan." James Bond: [CUTTING-ROOM FLOOR-LINE] Well said, but I suspect he's heard it all before.

Touché. Commander James Bond, recruited to the British Secret Service from the Royal Navy. Licensed to kill, and has done so on numerous occasions. Many lady friends, but married only once. - Wife killed... - All right, you've made your point. - You're sensitive, Mr Bond. - About certain things, yes. Now, if you'll excuse me, tragically, I have a previous engagement. Happily enough, so do I. - Goodbye, Mr Bond. - Let's say au revoir. I have the oddest feeling we'll be meeting again sometime. - I'm looking for a Mr Kalba. - Mr Max Kalba is the owner of the club. Over there. Mr Kalba, my name is Bond, James Bond. What of it? You had an appointment with a Mr Fekkesh. Well? He won't be joining you. - You have something I might like to buy. - Just a moment. I would like to bid for it, too. You forgot your drink, Mr Bond. Thank you. It seems you have competition, Mr Bond, and from where I sit, I fancy you will find the lady's figure hard to match. Might the contestants at least be permitted to view the article for sale? Well, now, who will start the bidding? Mr Kalba, sir. The telephone. An urgent call. Excuse me. Pardon me. This is Kalba.