[ He can feel the desire because he's paying careful attention to what he's easily perceived as an introvert. It's like an annoying little itch in the back of his mind, and suddenly he's aching for one too, wanting his lungs filled with the smoke. If he can't die in the line of duty, he'll take lung or liver cancer; anything but painless and peaceful, fading away with the caress of dawn.

But not yet. Let it be a reward, if it's deserved. ]

And I'm very good at what I do. So good, in fact, I've retained my position in spite of what you've just said. I know what I am.

[ This is said as a statement, surprisingly devoid of pride, but touched with impatience.

Feeling the nerves in the other man, and recalling how his pushing approach hadn't brought him results, Bond seamlessly switches his tactics. He sighs, softly, sharing a puff of steam between them in the cold. ]

Mister Guillam, I understand that you're a man of certain methods and precautions. You're a very thoughtful man. But you must realize that I'm a man of action. I know you do, in a way, because that's how you know you need me, and why we're here.

But the sooner I have at least a general inkling of what you want me to do, have at least a few pressing questions answered, the more comfortable I will be. For example: Is England in danger? And will I be killing someone as one of my explicit objectives?

The details are secondary. I need those questions answered now, before we continue any further.