COLD SUMMER
Author's Note: This story picks up where Sweet Clementine left off. READ AND REVIEW!
P.S. readers will be greeted on their trip to Edmonton by Jeffrey Wright's Felix Leiter!!!
August 13, 2007
James Bond was packed and ready to go. His paid vacation was finished, and M was ready to send him on his first mission since Casino Royale. This time it was simple, fly out to Edmonton, kill some hitman at a wedding. For Bond, this was a piece of cake, pardon the pun.
James still had a few hours to do whatever he wanted at his Chelsea flat. He decided to talk to someone on MSN. What a great tool these days. And who better to talk to then his old friend Peregrine? Bond always enjoyed talking to her. She was always kind and pleasant, the easy come, easy go type.
Time quickly passed and the taxi was at Bond's door. He grabbed his suitcase and locked the door.
James arrived at the airport, and he carried his luggage over to the conveyor belt, leading to the cargo bay on the plane. He had about 15 minutes before his flight embarked to the west. So, he grabbed a coffee. The terminal was relatively quiet tonight, and the plane was not quite as crowded as James would expect. He caught a good sleep until he landed in Toronto, early the next morning.
Bond's next flight would be non - stop to Edmonton, Alberta, but that'd be in two days: at 8 in the morning. So, he checked into the nearest hotel for the time being.
And just like that, he was gone. Off to Edmonton. He arrived at the airport at about 11:30. He went through luggage retrieval, and walked out the door. As he walked over to the street to wave down a taxi, a familiar voice called out…
"Glad to see you again, brutha!"
"Felix Leiter. Why am I not surprised to see you here?" Bond asked.
"Well, your boss asked the CIA to send someone you were already acquainted with…"
"So, Felix, are you gonna be at this wedding thing?"
"Yes." Said Felix. "I'll keep in touch with you through Bluetooth on your phone. I trust you have your ear transmitter?"
"Mmhmm. And everything else I need should be at the extraction point."
"Well, let's not waste time. The wedding is at 8:00 sharp."
So, Felix led James to the parking lot. Bond was in for another surprise.
The Silver Birch 1964 Aston Martin DB5 was sitting there, waiting for him.
"Well, well, well," Bond said. "How did this beauty get here?"
"I arranged with M to ship your Aston over here." Felix said. "Oh, and you might need these."
Leiter tossed the keys to James. They climbed into the Aston, and drove to the extraction point. Bond collected all the necessary equipment: the Bluetooth ear transmitter, tux, watch. He also found a standard issue Walther P99. He ejected the clip, checked the rounds, cocked it, slid the clip back in, and decocked. Usual examination method of a pistol with internal striker. Last but not least was a small vial with a clear, watery liquid.
"What's that?" Felix inquired.
"Digitalis. A drug that is fatal if overdosed. This happens to be highly concentrated."
"How good does it work?"
"Oh, pretty damn good. Trust me! Causes ventricular tachycardia in a matter of minutes."
"And you're sure of that?
"I'm damn well positive." Bond smirked. "Believe me, I know from experience."
With that remark, Felix shut his mouth. They drove on to the wedding… and sat through the ceremony… and then the party began. Now, time to find the mysterious assassin and kill him before he kills anyone. But who the hell was James expecting.
"Felix, just who am I supposed to kill?"
"Well, the groom, James!! Look! He's right there at the bar.
The groom was at the bar, already pissed out of his mind, struggling to hold himself up and make sense of his words.
"Sir," The bartender said, in a deep, hoarse voice. "Talk a little fuckin' slower would ya? Maybe a little hash'll calm ya down."
"UUUUGHHHHH! IIII S..SSSAIIDD A MIIIIOUNN TIMES! DOUBLLLLLLLLL SCOTCH!"
(I said a million times! Double Scotch!)
"And would you like that on the rocks?"
"AGHHHHH!!!!! FU (BURP!) CKIN' ASSHOOOOOOLIO. ICE! ICE! ICE!"
"Crazy drunk bastard… if that's what you want."
The bartender then looked with huge bespectacled eyes at Bond, who was quietly gut laughing at the drunk buffoon he was about to kill.
"Can't go far to find a few drunks in this town, eh? What'll you have?"
"A dry martini. Shaken, not stirred."
"Comin' right up!
As the bartender was mixing the martini, Bond dumped the vial of digitalis into the groom's double scotch.
This will probably work faster with all the mixed drugs at play… Bond thought.
As expected, the groom downed the scotch, and danced around for a few seconds, then dropped to the floor. Nobody new what to do… as if it would help… by now, the man's heart cannot possibly be resuscitated.
Bond walked out of the ballroom with Felix behind him.
"Did it work?"
"Like a dream."
"We ought come to Canada, huh, brutha?"
"Yeah, but good Christ, I'm freezing, Felix."
"I love Canada."
"Well, so do I, my American friend, but the summers are still dreadfully cold in the west…"