Springtime adventurers know the benefits that a premium rain jacket can have outdoors. Say you’re hitting a 14er in May, or you’re out on the ocean for a day-long fishing trip, and partway through, the sky opens up. There’s not much you can do in the middle of nowhere, and that’s why it pays to have something with proven waterproofing. Most times, layers like this—ones built for serious rain—can cost a lot of money, but REI has a big deal on one from Mammut, dropping the price by nearly half.
The Mammut Ducan Guide HS Hooded Jacket is on sale for $150, a 49% discount from its normal price of $299. This is a top-quality rain jacket you can depend on: It features a robust three-layer waterproof design for maximum protection from the elements. It’s on sale across three colorways with a full size range from small to 2XL, but what’s more impressive is that it’s also the most affordable 3L rain jacket available and widely in-stock at REI right now.
Mammut Ducan Guide HS Hooded Jacket, $150 (was $299) at REI
The Ducan Guide HS is a hard-shell jacket you can rely on through rainy commutes and backcountry hiking trips, among plenty of other types of excursions. The core feature is its three-layer design: A Mammut Dry Tour laminate system sandwiches the waterproof membrane between two layers of fabric, protecting the membrane while offering lockdown protection from the rain and wind. It’s made from 100% recycled polyester, and it includes dual pit zippers, so you can open up the vents and dump heat when you’re working hard.
Beyond this, the shoulder seams are placed for optimal comfort when wearing a pack, and the hood can be adjusted with a single cinch to keep your head protected from the elements (the high stand collar helps with that, too). Velcro cuffs and a cinchable hem help you lock out drafts, and Mammut used water-resistant zippers on the main closure and the dual hand pockets to prevent leaks.
REI shoppers called the Ducan “breathable and tough” and said it performed well through all kinds of outdoor adventures—even skiing. Reviewers appreciated its relatively lightweight feel, especially considering its burly 3L construction, and said it’s “very comfortable” to wear. And, of course, the waterproofing really works. Multiple shoppers highlighted its robust protection and said it’s “very effective at shedding moisture.”
With the Mammut Ducan in your pack, rainy weather won’t derail your day—and at just $150, it’s an awesome bargain for a true 3L rain jacket. Snag yours ASAP, because I have a feeling REI shoppers are going to snap this one up quickly.
Panerai is diving deeper into high-performance watchmaking with the launch of the Submersible GMT PAM01495, a brawny timepiece that fuses skeletonized style with serious underwater capability. Rooted in the brand’s heritage of crafting precision instruments for the Italian Navy, the new model offers a unique titanium twist on Panerai’s tool watch repertoire.
The oversized, 47mm case is made using Direct Metal Laser Sintering (DMLS) titanium, a 3D-printing technique that reduces weight while maintaining structural integrity. Built layer by layer, the case features internal cavities that cut mass while retaining strength—resulting in a material that is 25% lighter than traditional titanium and over 50% lighter than steel.
(Panerai)
The skeletonized movement is composed of 341 components, including a polarized date display that remains nearly invisible until viewed through its aperture—preserving a clear view of the watch’s intricate mechanics.
(Panerai)
The deep-sea powerhouse features a unidirectional rotating bezel with a matte blue ceramic insert and a 500 meter water resistance. An AM/PM indicator features a high-visibility orange hand inspired by marine signaling tools, while a patented jumping-hour mechanism allows for easy time zone adjustments.
(Panerai)
It’s powered by a micro-rotor system with a 72-hour reserve and features Super-LumiNova-treated markers for murky underwater conditions, with the minute hands and bezel dots emitting a blue glow and all other elements glowing green. Finished with a blue rubber strap and delivered in a luxe blue cherry wood box, the Submersible GMT PAM01495 is available exclusively at Panerai boutiques for $67,500. Unfortunately, that hefty price tag doesn’t include the curated trip through Italy offered with Panerai’s Radiomir Viaggio nel Tempo Experience Set, the brand’s recently-launched watch and travel pairing.
Riding the historic wave of box-office success of Michael, Lionsgate, Universal, and the powers that be are moving forward with a sequel (unofficially dubbed Michael 2 for now). While this is great news for many fans of the original movie, my inquisitive nature has given me a bit of pause for a few reasons, one of which, ironically, is Janet Jackson.
To be clear, by and large, I did like the Michael film for the music, the nostalgia, and the acting (especially by Jaafar Jackson and Juliano Valdi). However, I previously noted that two major events were left out. There was no mention of his time making The Wiz, where he developed a bond with Quincy Jones to create one of the best artist/producer duos of all time, and Michael’s massive purchase of a bulk of The Beatles’ catalog isn’t discussed. Michael also had important people in the King of Pop’s life missing. Diana Ross was notably absent due to “certain legal considerations,” and Janet “declined” to participate.
Zeroing in on Janet, if she declined to be in the first film, I have no reason to think she’ll be in the sequel, and that leads me to believe that would-be viewers of Michael 2 won’t see another career-defining and history-making moment of Michael’s life.
Michael and Janet Jackson Made History with “Scream” in ‘95
Football: Super Bowl XXVII: Celebrity musician Michael Jackson performs halftime show during Dallas Cowboys vs Buffalo Bills. Pasadena, CA 1/31/1993 CREDIT: Damian Strohmeyer (Photo by Damian Strohmeyer /Sports Illustrated via Getty Images)
Written and produced by Michael, Janet, and Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis, “Scream” was a melodic clapback to all the public fodder largely surrounding Michael in 1995. Additionally, the song was Michael and Janet’s biggest collaboration, and at the time, it made history as the highest-charting debut single on the Billboard Hot 100, debuting at #5. But where the sibling collaboration really popped was in the video.
“Scream” holds a place in the Guinness Book of World Records as the most expensive music video ever, costing $7 million. The 4:47-minute music video is mesmerizing. Shot in black and white, with a futuristic backdrop, the siblings dance in lockstep with one another, each holding their own. The video went on to earn Michael and Janet a Grammy for Best Music Video, and at the time, they set a record for the most MTV Music Award nominations for a single video with 11.
Why ‘Scream’ Would Be Interesting to Watch in ‘Michael 2’
Janet Jackson at the grand opening of The Cove Atlantis on Paradise Island (Photo by Kevin Mazur/WireImage for Kerzner International)
Photo by Kevin Mazur/WireImage for Kerzner International
By 1995, Michael was going through it. He was still trying to come from underneath the 1993 allegations, and the tabloids made him a punchline or punching bag regularly. Then there was Janet. She was at a point in her career where she was thriving, having released three megahit albums back to back (Rhythm Nation, Control, and janet.) In fact, there’s an argument to be made that she was just as popular, if not more so, than her famous older brother at that time.
It would have been intriguing to see the sibling competitiveness that may have existed in the duo’s adult dynamic, as Jimmy Jam suggests there was. Speaking to People, Jam stated, “So I felt a little bit of the competitiveness, which was cool.” And while he said it was cool, Janet talks about the collaboration in a slightly different tone.
In her documentary, Janet Jackson, she talks about this project being Michael’s and her being there “to support.” She also talks about how it was “tough” shooting the video, as they went beyond the “three-day shoot” plan, the price of the video ballooned, and she shot her parts during the day while he shot at night. She also accused his record label of trying to make things competitive between her and her brother, and she felt “hurt” by the experience. Take a look at a clip from the doc below.
All in all, while I’m sure Michael 2 can make it without Janet and may gloss over the “Scream” experience entirely, I can’t help but think about the potential missed opportunity to explore the making of the song and video, and all the familial dynamics that were at play. Oh, and to be clear, I don’t doubt that Michael and Janet were close. They likely just had a “sibling moment.”
Another year, another Cinco de Mayo, another opportunity to celebrate with our favorite agave spirits. Here we collect across the agave landscape, from mezcals and sotols to tequila and even a low-ABV agave wine option. As usual for Spirit Of the Week, all the expressions we’ve selected are verified 100-percent additive free—which, as lovers of true unadulterated tequila, is preferred. That means zero additives or abojantes (aka artificial mellowing agents) such caramel coloring, oak extract, glycerin, added sugars or flavoring syrup. Salud, y viva México!
Tequila Ocho Terroir Select Reposado Tequila
Tequila Ocho Terroir Select Blanco
Tequila Ocho Terroir Select continues to expand its pioneering vineyard-inspired approach to agave spirits, pushing the concept of terroir beyond single fields into broader regional expression. Crafted under the direction of one of the true masters of the game, tequilero and agronomist Carlos Camarena, the release is made entirely from 100-percent Blue Weber agave sourced from select ranchos across Mexico’s highland zones, including Jalisco, Guanajuato, and Michoacán.
The inaugural “Comunidad” vintage highlights agaves grown near Arandas, reinforcing the project’s deeper purpose: supporting multigenerational local farmers while capturing the subtle environmental distinctions of their land. Production remains rooted in Camarena’s strong dedication to tradition: their own plants harvested at their mature peak, cleanly and thoroughly shaved, slow-cooked in stone ovens, naturally fermented with ambient yeast, and distilled in copper pot stills—preserving the agave’s pure character.
Terroir Select is offered in both Plata (unaged) and Reposado, the latter resting briefly in used American oak bourbon barrels, allowing gentle texture without masking the agave’s identity. What sets this series apart is its balance of philosophy and impact: it not only deepens tequila’s conversation around terroir but also creates a sustainable economic model for small-scale growers. Founded in 2008 by Camarena and the late tequila ambassador Tomas Estes, Tequila Ocho remains a benchmark for transparency in the industry—each vintage a precise snapshot of land, climate, and community. Tequila Ocho Terroir Select Blanco and Repo are no exceptions. $53
Cinco Sentidos Pechuga de Mole Poblano Agave Distillate
Cinco Sentidos Pechuga de Mole Poblano Agave Distillate
You should be able to call this absolute gem a mezcal, but since founder Jason Cox could care less about acquiring official certification from the CRT (Mexico’s official mezcal regulatory body), Cinco Sentidos prefers to go with the more ambiguous term ‘Agave Distillate.’ This used to be a sign that the juice held within the glass didn’t pass CRT regs, but due to the body’s at-times controversial protocols has grown into a term of quality not reliant upon volume. These uncertified, nano-batch spirits preserve ancestral methods often overlooked by large-scale production.
Cinco Sentidos is one of those labels that literally if you see a bottle, you can feel safe in knowing what’s inside is worth any agave aficionado’s dollars. Like Real MInero, Rey Campero, Derrumbes, etc. their level of curation and care is so profound that you can simply trust the label on the bottle. That being said their Pechuga de Mole is one of the best spirits we’ve ever tasted across all categories—be it whiskey, cognac, Mezcal, tequila it doesn’t matter, this Pechuga is an absolute wonder.
Crafted in Puebla by maestro mezcalero Delfino Tobón Mejía using wild Papalote agave (Agave potatorum), the plant is harvested at peak maturity and roasted in an underground earthen ovens. What sets it apart however is its elaborate pechuga-style distillation, one of mezcal’s most ceremonial techniques. Here, a house-made mole poblano is combined with the mezcal, while a raw, free-range chicken is suspended inside the still. As the spirit is slowly and methodically distilled—over the course of nearly a week—the mole and proteins drip into the liquid, infusing it with extraordinary depth and texture.
Unlike barrel-aged spirits, this mezcal is bottled unaged, relying entirely on its intricate production for character. The result is intensely layered: aromas of oatmeal, chamomile, and citrus give way to a palate of chicken umami, green apple, cinnamon, chocolate, and subtle savory richness—an immersive, almost culinary interpretation of mezcal tradition. The experience is like if you had the pleasure of eating a Zapotec abuelita’s mole and complimented it with superb mezcal, what you’d continue to taste in your palate for the rest of the night like a pleasant memory. If you ever see this bottle, buy it. $147
Lost Lore “Poca Madre” Reposado Tequila
Lost Lore “Poca Madre” Reposado Tequila.
Lost Lore “Poca Madre” Reposado Tequila is a deeply personal, limited-edition release that blends heritage, craft, and purpose into a strikingly modern expression. Founded by Mexican-American entrepreneur Arturo Lamas alongside Sarah Lamas, the brand draws from generations of agave tradition—spanning mezcaleros in Mexico to family tequila roots—while reinterpreting that legacy through a contemporary lens.
Produced at NOM 1414 in the highlands of Jalisco, this tequila is made from 1000-percent Blue Weber agave grown in Los Altos. Under the guidance of maestro tequilero Sergio Cruz, the agave is slow-cooked in stone and brick ovens, crushed via roller mill, and fermented in stainless steel tanks using proprietary champagne yeast—famously accompanied by classical music. It is then double distilled in copper pot stills and bottled at 40% ABV with no additives.
The standard reposado sees a gentle rest in used American white oak whiskey barrels, while the “Poca Madre” edition is double-aged—first in American oak, then finished in French oak port wine casks, adding layered richness. Expect an agave-forward core accented by citrus, black pepper, and subtle sweetness. Limited to just 2,000 bottles, the release also honors Sarah Lamas’ late mother, with proceeds supporting breast cancer awareness initiatives in Jalisco—making it as meaningful as it is expressive. $64
Casa Lotos Sotol Blanco
Casa Lotos Sotol Blanco,
While often grouped with tequila or mezcal, sotol is entirely its own tradition—made not from agave, but from the wild Dasylirion plant (commonly called desert spoon), which grows natively across Northern Mexico. This distinction bequeaths sotol a markedly different profile, often greener, more herbal, and shaped heavily by its rugged desert environment. It is has also been protected and defined by its own Denomination of Origin (DO) since 2002, much like tequila, mezcal and Raicilla.
Crafted by fourth-generation sotolero Gerardo Ruelas in Aldama, Chihuahua, the dasylirion is wild-harvested by hand, naturally free from pesticides, then slow-cooked in small brick ovens rather than traditional underground pits. Fermentation takes place in native pine vessels, followed by double distillation in copper stills. Notably, the entire process is powered by solar energy, reinforcing the brand’s commitment to sustainability, such as with its use of recycled glass.
Bottled at 40-percent ABV, Casa Lotos diverges from higher-proof, smoke-forward sotols with a cleaner, more polished style—credit the use of ovens versus the more traditional mezcal type of cooking in covered pits, where the smoke inundates the agaves. The result is crisp and expressive: green peppercorn, cucumber, and pine on the nose, with grassy, herbal notes and a smooth, balanced finish. Rooted in centuries-old Northern Mexican tradition that dates back to early distillation practices introduced in the 16th century, Casa Lotos represents both preservation and evolution of sotol’s enduring legacy. $50
AD Blanco Batch 1 Tequila
AD Blanco Batch 1 Tequila.
AD approaches tequila with more of a winemaker’s philosophy than a volume brand dead set on manufacturing consistency. Because rather than striving for identical flavor from batch to batch, the brand embraces natural variation—leaning into the nuanced differences between each batch of tequila, treating individual productions like a vintage, shaped by agave fluctuations, environmental variables, and the evolving sorcery of the distiller. The result is a tequila that captures a specific moment in time rather than a fixed formula. Like the aforementioned Cinco Sentidos, AD (“Agave Destilados” or Distillates) embraces the non-certified, rebellious outliers of the agave world in its very name.
Of course when so much rides on the decisions of the distiller, the distillery becomes paramount. Lucky for AD they source from one of the best in all the planet: the historic Cascahuín distillery in El Arenal (who we’ve covered here many times). Founded in 1904 and passed on through blood, third-generation Cascahuín maestro tequilero Don Salvador Rosales and sons Chava and Benjamin are widely heralded for their strictly additive-free, diligently traditional methods. For AD’s specific Blanco recipe, Don Salvador used exceptionally high sugar 1000-percent Blue Weber estate-grown agave from both the Highlands and Valley, creating a balance of bright aromatics and earthy depth. Extraction combines roller mill efficiency with tahona stone crushing, while fermentation takes place in pine wood tanks with bagasse, aka crushed agave fibers, included in the mosto (fermenting juice), enhancing texture and complexity a wonderful degree. There the Blanco was allowed to rest for 3 months in stainless vats to further develop structure, and bottled at a slightly elevated 44% ABV, emphasizing its natural character.
Each batch is intentionally small and meticulously documented, reinforcing the brand’s philosophy that tequila should be dynamic, not standardized. On the palate, AD Blanco reveals layers of cooked agave, honey, and vanilla, lifted by citrus brightness and grounded by vegetal notes and pepper. And because its price tag is significantly more approachable than its Cascahuín cousins, the AD label is eagerly sought out by erudite tequila nerds. $50
Ilegal Reposado Caribbean Cask Finish Mezcal
Ilegal Reposado Caribbean Cask Finish Mezcal.
Restauranteur/music fan/certified agave aficionado John Rexer infamously founded his agave venture around 2004 by smuggling mezcal from Oaxaca to Antigua, Guatemala, to supply his bar Café No Sé. As the bar grew in acclaim, so did demand for the good stuff. By 2006, he formalized the operation as Ilegal Mezcal, a name that clearly nods to its rebellious origins. Today Ilegal is produced in partnership with multi-generational mezcalero families in Santiago Matatlán, Oaxaca, maintaining its artisanal roots while evolving through experimental finishes like this Caribbean cask release.
Ilegal Reposado Caribbean Cask Finish Mezcal is a limited-edition expression that layers traditional mezcal craftsmanship with a distinctly tropical twist. Produced from 1000-percent Espadín agave, the spirit follows classic Oaxacan methods—pit-roasted agave, natural fermentation, and copper pot distillation—before entering a truly unique aging process rare in the world of mezcal. The mezcal is first rested for approximately 4 months in American oak barrels, then finished for an additional 2 months in casks that previously held Caribbean rum for 8 years, imparting added depth and sweetness.
On the nose, Ilegal Reposado Caribbean Cask Finish opens with caramelized pear and bright orange, while the palate reveals butterscotch, baking spices, and a restrained wisp of smoke. Not the heavy cinder that marks a lot of mezcals, more subtle and peeking through the rum’s fruity sweetness. Hints of nutmeg, clove, and cinnamon further underscore the rum-cask influence, creating a richer, rounder profile than traditional reposado mezcal. While this one came out a little while ago, there are still bottles available from the limited edition run well worth finding. $58
Leyenda 1925 AñejoTequila
Leyenda 1925 Añejo Tequila.
“At Leyenda 1925, clean ingredients are not a trend, they’re a reflection of who we are,” Leyenda 1925 Founder and Tequilero Julio González III tells Maxim. “I was raised in the highlands of Jalisco with a deep respect for the land, the agave, and the discipline it takes to do things the right way. My grandfather, Julio González Estrada, taught me that great tequila should be honest, with the agave always at the center. That belief became our foundation. Every bottle we produce is about honoring that legacy respecting the process, preserving tradition, and delivering an authentic tequila that tells a real story. Because in the end, authenticity is what creates loyalty.”
Of their three core expressions, Blanco, Reposado and Añejo, the latter is the polished, high-end expression of Leyenda 1925. With a firm commitment to additive-free production that allows the natural character of the spirit to take center stage, all their tequila is crafted from 100% Blue Weber agave grown in Los Altos. The tequila is distilled using traditional methods before entering an extended maturation, aged for a full 18 months in American white oak. There it developed a deep, more contemplative profile while maintaining balance between agave purity and wood influence. Unlike overly manipulated añejos, Leyenda 1925 demands only time, rather than additives or abojantes, shapes the final result.
In the glass, Leyenda 1925 Añejo shows a deep amber hue with a luminous glow. Aromatically, it opens with white oak, roasted coffee, cooked agave, dark chocolate, and hints of ripe orange. The palate builds with layers of caramelized agave, vanilla, subtle smokiness, and white chocolate, finishing long, warm, and gently woody. Oh, and the glass bottle is worthy of display. $135
Dos Hombres Tequila Blanco
Dos Hombres Tequila Blanco.
While we tend to steer a bit clear of “celebrity spirits,” we’ve had the pleasure of being served mezcal cocktails by founders Aaron Paul and Bryan Cranston, and the experience was so enjoyable and seemingly authentic—they are superb actors, after all— Dos Hombres gets a pass from us. Anytime you see two of the most troubled prestige TV characters not riddled by cartel angst and Breaking Bad chemistry shenanigans, and instead enjoying the pleasures of agave spirits like normal folks, you soften up to their magic.
Dos Hombres Tequila (Blanco and Reposado) marks a natural evolution for the brand, expanding beyond mezcal into tequila with a focus on craftsmanship and approachability. Produced in Amatitán, Jalisco at Tequilera Tap Distillery—which we visited as guests of the excellent Cazcanes brand—the project is led by maestro tequilero Julio Cova, a veteran with nearly four decades of experience who came out of retirement to oversee the release.
Both expressions are made from 1000-percent Blue Weber agave, cultivated with organic practices and slow-roasted using a combination of traditional brick ovens and autoclaves. Fermentation takes place in open-air vats with native wild yeast, allowing the surrounding Amatitán environment to subtly shape the tequila’s character before double distillation in copper and stainless steel stills.
The Blanco is unaged, delivering bright notes of cooked agave, citrus zest, and soft spice with a rounded, velvety finish. The Reposado is aged for approximately four months in first-fill ex-bourbon barrels from Four Roses, adding gentle oak, warmth, and a silky texture without overpowering the agave. Originally launched in 2019 as a mezcal brand inspired by their shared passion for agave spirits, Dos Hombres has slowly built a reputation for accessible, polished releases—now extending into tequila. $40
Ola Sol Blanco Agave Wine
Ola Sol Blanco Agave Wine.
While we actually prefer the over-proof tequilas to the standard 40% ABV, there are times when even that’s too stiff. For those moments when you want a lighter sipper, Ola Sol steps in with its surprisingly adaptable Blanco Agave Wine. Designed to deliver most of the flavor and versatility of an agave spirit with only half the ABV (and calories), as the name implies Ola Sol Blanco Agave Wine skips the distillation but adopts fortification such as wines like sherry, port, vermouth and Madeira. They do this by adding 10% pure, unaged high-proof agave brandy to fermented agave juice, aka wine, maintaining a 100% blue weber agave composition.
Crafted from single-estate Blue Weber sourced in Jalisco and Oaxaca, the production relies on controlled fermentation to build flavor before fortification enhances structure and stability. The expression is unaged, preserving fresh agave character and brightness without barrel influence. This approach allows Ola Sol to be served anywhere with a beer-and-wine license, expanding its footprint in bars and restaurants that can’t pour spirits—and your summer celebrations where less is more. They’ve also just created a new Margarita Mixer with only eight ingredients (e.g. agave nectar, lime juice, sea salt, monk fruit, etc.) crafted to blend perfectly with their wine for a skinny 75-calorie margarita. Ola Sol Blanco Agave Wine is non-GMO, vegan, gluten-free, and kosher, with no added sugar, sulfites, or coloring. And it’s the first agave wine to earn a 93-point rating from Wine Enthusiast, so the quality is there. $31.50
Follow Deputy Editor Nicolas Stecher’s travel, spirits and automotive adventures on Instagram at @nickstecher and @boozeoftheday.
Starting in 2022, with the novel Double or Nothing, author Kim Sherwood introduced a new, slick world of MI6 agents. Officially licensed to thrill by Ian Fleming publications, Double or Nothing expanded the Bond scope to include incredible new spies like 003, Johanna Hardwood, and 004 Joseph Dyrden. In the second novel, 2024’s A Spy Like Me, we met the duplicitous and dangerous 000, Conrad Harthrop-Vape. But where is James Bond in a world built in his image? After vanishing and being presumed dead, the shocking conclusion of A Spy Like Me revealed 003 had found him alive. However, after a brutal period in captivity, 007 may no longer be the man he once was.
Sherwood’s third and final Double O novel, Hurricane Room, doesn’t pick up with that cliffhanger. Instead, as Men’s Journal can exclusively reveal, the first chapter of Hurricane Room starts back in 2004, in which Bond’s future boss, M (Emery Ware), formally 0013, begins training Bond in the art of being a Double O agent. (Sherwood tells Men’s Journal she imagines this version of M looking like Patrick Stewart.)
The two meet in a racy nightclub in Russia. The dialogue is fast, the drinks are stiff, and the world is not enough. Read our exclusive excerpt and discover a new James Bond origin unlike any we’ve seen before.
“You’ll know him when you see him,” M had told me. “You’ll know the type.”
I wondered just what type that was as I crossed a former concert hall now billed as the first professional strip club in Russia. Stepping aside for two women young enough to be my daughters, I followed them into Solaris Bar, where they might scream over subwoofers pumping Britney Spears’s “Toxic,” go bowling, or exchange venereal diseases with pinstriped biznesmeni for $150.
As a bouncer ushered me into a roped- off corner dominated by wood veneer and red velvet, I saw him. The man I was looking for leaned with his back against the bar, elbow propped on the brass, one hand curled around a granyonyi glass, the other in his pocket. He wore a black wool dinner jacket with a single button, narrow silk-faced lapels, and silk- trimmed pockets. The jacket had straight shoulders, a clean chest, and a tight waist. No cummerbund or waistcoat. The shirt was clearly Turnbull & Asser’s white-on-white waffle weave, paired with white moiré silk braces, which flashed as he took a sip of vodka. The bow tie was black silk, matching the stripe down each outseam of the classic Italian trousers, mid-rise and straight-legged. The shoes were black calf two-eyelet. Not patent, but shined to perfection.
The man was mid-twenties. Tall. Slim, muscled build. Short black hair, a fringe that curled like a comma. A handsome devil, in a rather arrogant way. Yes, I knew the type. I could see why M had him tipped for the Double O Section. A chip off the old block, as my father might have said. Berthing alongside, I ordered vodka with a pot of pepper and cast a line toward him in English: “First time in Moscow?”
A slow, sidelong look. “What makes you say that?”
“No pepper in your vodka.” I decorated the surface of my glass with black ballast, which lumbered to the depths. “It’s a trick the Russians taught me. You’ll find fusel oil on the surface of badly distilled vodka. Poisonous. A little pepper takes the oil to the bottom. You get to like the taste and it becomes a habit.”
“I avoid habits. As a rule.”
“That’s very funny, Mr. . . . ?”
The man sniffed. “The pepper could be poisoned.”
“My tab is too long. Besides, haven’t you heard? The circus has moved to the Middle East.” I gestured around the bar, and further, encompassing the entire Cosmos. The biggest hotel in the country was a collaboration between Soviet and French architects, heralding perestroika, Gorbachev’s attempt to galvanize the failing Communist economy by introducing a dose of capitalism. The dose worked like a virus; across Russia, managers looted so heavily shops went empty and gangsters killed each other on factory floors. Cosmos Hotel grew sickly and the Cold War grew old, leaving a twenty-five-story horseshoe known as Half a Cup by locals. One got the feeling it was a cup half-empty. Now I raised a toast to the TV over the bar, which showed explosions in Baghdad, red flares rippling the inky sky. “Here’s to shock and awe.”
It was 2004, over a decade before I would be given the assignation “M” and take my position in the throne room of MI6. I drained the glass. “My name’s Emery Ware. Universal Exports.”
The man watched me for thirty seconds, then reached for the pepper, freckling his own vodka before knocking the drink back. “James.” He set the glass down with a bang. “James Bond.” We shook hands.
Bond said, “I’m attached to the British embassy. I’ve been here long enough to hate the weather. In London, April’s a spring month.”
“Whereas in Moscow, we’re freezing our balls off.” The standard coded greeting over, I tapped my glass. The barman, a stoned kid, reached for Russian Standard, better than the bootleg stuff they used to serve. I hadn’t been to the Cosmos since the raves were known as Gagarin parties. The big thing then was Russian rap, too angry to be as absurd as it should have been: “Better hide your power in the daytime / when you are a mischievous Moscow playboy.”
The only trouble was trying to hold onto a girl who offered no purchase but a pair of fishnets when the dance floor was coated in blood. Now the next generation of girls writhed onstage. But Bond’s gray-blue eyes weren’t fixed on them.
“You don’t look happy, Bond. Sorry to miss all the fun in Iraq? Or perhaps you’re one with your generation and cast suspicion over the hunt for Weapons of Mass Destruction.”
“I go where I’m told.” “That’s not what I’ve heard.” I lowered my voice. “M thinks you have what it takes to be a Double O but he’s worried your temperament isn’t cool enough. Sent you here to test your patience. And you’re already blowing it.”
A sharp look.
“Everything about you screams what you are.”
Bond’s right hand moved from his pocket to his left armpit, brushing the weapon concealed in the holster beneath his jacket, the unease of a navy man more used to carrying a gun in uniform than out of it.
“That gesture, for starters, will give you away to the bellboy.”
He snorted. “I’m not looking for a mentor.”
“Shame. You need one. You’re watching the watchers.”
“Someone should,” said Bond.
“Are you being clever?”
“Never knowingly.”
“My point, young man, is that you are not watching the girls. Don’t like women, Bond?”
That elicited a raised eyebrow. Bond nodded toward a cabal in the corner. “The hood receiving the lap dance is Mikhail Khodorkovsky, Russia’s first oligarch. When Gorbachev legalized small cooperatives, Khodorkovsky turned “non-cash” into real money and became a millionaire overnight. Next to him is Boris Berezovsky, Russia’s second oligarch. He turned looting into an art form. By the time these two were done, the Kremlin declared the end of Communism and the end of democracy all in one decade.”
“Spies and gossip columnists get a hard-on playing who’s who. You want to blend in, watch the strippers. Better yet, take one to your room while you’ve still got your hair. Trust me.”
“How do you know I have a room here?”
“Your girl told me.”
“Yelena? I applauded. “He has a dancer already—what does he need my advice for? Not Yelena, son, the girl on your desk. I’m afraid she rather disapproves of you.”
“That’s only because she knows me,” said Bond. “And she’s not my girl.”
“No after-hours fun in the stationery cupboard?”
“I mean she’s not my secretary. She’s operations manager,” said Bond. “And I think she’d want it pointed out she’s not a girl.”
“Don’t tell me I have a reconstructed man on my hands.”
“I’m too young for reconstruction. Unlike some. What were you, back in the day?”
“Back in the day, I was 0013.”
Bond straightened. “I know your reputation. If a man wanted to become a Double O, he could do worse than follow you.”
“One of the few to survive the honor. Something for the record books. Speaking of, did you know that when you checked in here, you were very nearly the Hotel Cosmos’s seven- millionth guest?”
In the mirrored ceiling, our doubles gauged each other.
“You’ve had people watching me?” asked Bond.
“Yes.”
“To report to M?” I left that alone.
“The honor went to a tourist called Michelle Collins, if you’re curious.”
“That’s why I let her cut in line. I don’t need records.” “And here was me thinking you were playing the gentleman.”
“I don’t play.”
“It’s all a game. The Great Game where defeat comes at a great cost. You’ll learn that one day. Jesus wept, I’m half-inclined to tell you to get out now.”
Bond hunched. “That’s what you’ll tell M: get him out before he’s in?”
“Suppose I were to tell M your bedroom door has been swinging. Suppose I were to warn him this young man is an ideal defector, who would ply his trade for any country that kept him in plentiful supply of good booze, bad women, and shiny toys.”
“You’d be wrong,” said Bond.
I laughed. “What a passionate defense. Intelligence is currency, Bond. What sort of legal spy are you, that’s what the opposition wants to know. Not gay, like so many of MI6’s defectors to the Soviet Union, blackmailed and desperate. But that doesn’t mean the bedroom isn’t a weakness for you. No longing phone calls to a girlfriend back home. Putting up in a hotel— this hotel— instead of a nice townhouse with a nice wife. You’re as available as a public lavatory.”
“Are you inviting me to one?”
“You should be so lucky. I pay seven thousand dollars a month for a Stalin-era apartment on Kutuzovsky Prospekt because it makes my wife happy and my stepchildren popular at school. I’m past honey traps, and the FSB aren’t trying to trap me. I’m trapped already.”
“What number?” asked Bond.
“Children?”
“Wife,” he said.
“Fourth, you cheeky sod.”
“She’s Russian?”
“Belarusian.”
“Did you marry her for cover?”
At the far end of the bar, local gangsters with aspirational American accents did shots and beat their chests. Foreign students tired of their act tried to snag Bond’s attention.
“Give it time. I used to be you. A good-looking young man with an easy smile who doesn’t blink when a woman sizes him up. Wives numbers one to four will get to you yet. And if I were FSB I’d know how to get to you now. All it would take is a girl who puts up a little challenge. You’d be hers.”
“You think I whisper nuclear secrets in my sleep?”
“Do you?” He sneered. “No.” “And what if a damsel in distress asked for your help, her beautiful golden hair spread over your pillow, her plump lips pouting? The help of a British spy, if only you knew one?”
“I’m nobody’s knight in shining armor,” said Bond. “Can I have another reading on that line?” I filed away the irritation on Bond’s face. “What else? Your wastepaper basket is filled with bottles.” “How do you know that?”
“Your cleaner. Maybe you’re lonely. Maybe you’re trying to forget something. No phone calls to family, so maybe it’s inherited wealth that pays for your tailoring—parents dead, Bond?” That drew a wince. “Well, a healthy bank account is no weakness. Though vanity is: you dress better than any civil servant I ever met.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s a low bar. But you’re detail-oriented, and your dress shows it. That’s good. The bug in your room picks up the same little clicks and rustles as you check for listening devices every night. That’s good too. Details will save your life.”
Bond looked like he’d bit down on a lemon. “You bugged my room?”
“Of course we did. And you can bet the FSB have too.”
“Where’s your bug?” he asked.
“You tell me.”
“Where’s the FSB bug?”
“Not in the cistern or the bulbs you search so diligently, obviously. So, we add it all up. No dependents, no one to give you that extra measure of personal caution, but you do take professional cautions. You obviously work out. You’re a straight, white man with money behind him, promiscuous, attractive. When you don’t know you’re being watched, your face is blank and your eyes are dead.”
He gave a harsh laugh. “No need to spare my feelings.”
“You’re right: you don’t have any. You’re a perfect weapon and someone is going to use you. The FSB will have you on their one-to-watch list. And their wish list.”
“It’s nice to be wanted,” said Bond.
“Isn’t it?” I tried to work out his expression. Contempt? Self-loathing? Amusement?
“Tell me why you want to be a Double O.”
“I think I can be of service to my country.”
“Excuse me while I find a tissue.”
Bond shrugged. “Fine. I think I have what it takes.”
“What does it take?”
“You tell me.” I twisted my glass as if aligning a kaleidoscope. “There are two types of professional murderers in the world. The first has a limited shelf life. Hitler had to rotate the men in charge of the gas chambers. Gave them nice little holidays.” “That’s how you see yourself?”
“My father survived D- Day and liberating the camps to die as an agent for BRIXMIS in Berlin surrounded east and west by Nazis walking around as if the war never happened. What do you think?”
Bond spread his hands. “It’s your analogy, I’m just standing here.”
“Then stand to attention. The second type is a man-eating tiger. He gets the taste of it and finds he can’t stop.”
“A Double O is a tiger with a taste for death?”
“Not so much a taste. It’s simply become a fact of life. He can’t eat anything else now. It’s his nature. And a very useful nature, too, for governments that need willing executioners. In some ways, we’re not so different from SMERSH.”
On the stage, a girl did something rather new and exciting with the splits, but Bond wasn’t watching. He said, “SMERSH was the Soviet Union’s murder squad directed at foreign spies. Bribery, torture, coercion.”
“Do you think we draw our line in the sand so differently?”
He squared his jaw. “Yes. Your father must have thought so, too.”
I gave Bond a beneficent smile. “I suppose he did, yes. M wants me to take you out for a spin, kick your tires, so to speak.” I reached for the brochures spread on the bar. “Their literature is rather out of date. Intourist greets you in Moscow— the capital city of the Soviet state and one of the most beautiful and comfortable cities in the world. Unless you oppose Putin’s new regime. Come on, young buck. I’m showing you the real Moscow.”
Bond demonstrated his full height. “If it involves less psychoanalysis and more vodka, I’m game.”
I studied him under the fake crystal chandelier. “Let’s see if you can keep up with me.”
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