Never Say Die

Admiral Sir Miles Meservy filled his pipe for the fourth time that evening. His eyes glanced over the file once more. It bore the confidential red stripe, a sign of importance. Then, with no warning, he flicked his wrist and sent it sprawling across his desk. He slammed a red button down on the intercom.

"Moneypenny?" he barked.

"Yes, sir?" came the unhurried reply.

"Get 007 in here at once. It's important."

"Of course."

A buzzer went off in the office that James Bond shared with the other members of the double-oh section-002, 008, and 0011, who was on a mission in Canada. The secretary received the message and walked over to Bond's desk.

"Mr. Bond?" she said.

"Yes?" Bond said as he looked up from his work.

"M would like to see you in his office now, sir."

"Oh, alright." Bond was surprised. It had been months since M, the head of SIS and therefore his boss, had requested such an interview. It usually marked the beginning another mission-the only type Bond enjoyed: the dangerous ones. Ever since the end of his last assignment, he had felt as if he was going soft. He had worked himself into a routine, becoming a creature of habit-disastrous for agents. Now there was a glimmer of hope that the soft life's grasp was loosening. All of this had ran through his mind by the time he reached Moneypenny's office door. It swung open silently. Moneypenny was sitting at her desk.

"Hello, James," she greeted him with a sly smile.

"Evening, Penny," Bond replied.

"The chief wants you, right away."

"Of course." Moneypenny pressed a button down on the intercom and announced that Bond had arrived.

"Send him in." M's tone was gruff and he sounded stressed. Bond knew the voice. It meant something big-very big. He went in and closed the door after him. Moneypenny watched the green light above the door beginning to glow. It meant that M was not to be disturbed. She went back to her work.

M was sitting at his desk smoking his pipe, a look of rage upon his face-not at all very unusual. But, as Bond was offered a seat and graciously accepted, he noticed a twinkle of sadness and confusion in his gray-blue eyes. Bond could instantly tell something was wrong.

"007?" his superior addressed him.

"Yes, sir?" Bond acknowledged.

"I'm something's happened to 0011."

"What, sir?" asked Bond, fearing the worst. Max, or 0011, had been one of his best friends at headquarters.

"He's dead. Found last night at the hotel where he was staying in Niagara Falls. He was poisoned. They haven't been able to identify the substance yet. Possibly cyanide." Bond sighed. Another of his friends dead, just because he got in the way of a sick madman and his plans. And now, for M did not need to say it, Bond knew that he would have to get this killer, and he would, and then the endless cycle would repeat itself.

"I expect you've predicted what I'm about to say, but you're taking over the case from 0011. We've picked up some illegal activity in Niagara Falls, Ontario. Our friends the Mounties need some help, so we sent 0011 over. Turned out to be worse than we had expected. Apparently some maniac is this close from coming into the possession of a nuclear missile. 0011 relayed us information detailing his plans to hold the city of Ottawa for ransom. Of course the U.N. doesn't give in to terrorist threats, so you're being sent in to stop them and make sure the alleged "nuking" never happens. Already three men have been "removed" by the other side. Two Mounties and our man. They've got some kind of terrorist organization going-got a daft name too: call themselves "EVIL". The leader of the bunch is a chap called Vadro LaSenza. Spanish. Speaks several different languages. Has an I.Q. of one hundred fifty-suppose you could call him an evil genius. And he's vanished off the face of the earth. 0011 traced him to Niagara Falls, then lost the scent. You're going there to pick it up again. Is your objective clear?"

"Absolutely, sir."

"Good. And, 007, do be careful."

"Of course, sir." He stood up and walked out.

The BOA flight to Toronto took six hours. Bond cleared Customs & Immigration and hailed a cab. He got in and said, "The nearest Rent-a-Car, please."

"Shoo ting, cap'n," replied the driver. He was Jamaican and it showed in his speech.

A half-hour later, Bond was riding in a rented Lincoln Town Car, on his way to Niagara Falls. The car was nothing spectacular, but it suited his purpose and was affordable. At least ninety minutes had passed before he saw the sign:

WELCOME TO NIAGARA FALLS POPULATION 64,000. He kept on driving. His next destination was the hotel were 0011 had been staying during the last days of his life. The Hilton.

It was a large, luxurious hotel with a magnificent pool, waterslide and waterfall replica. He received his key and took the elevator to the thirty-ninth floor and went into his room. Everything had been arranged and prepaid, M making sure that Bond would get the late 0011's room. He collapsed onto the bed. He was dead tired. Very soon he was asleep.

Bond did not know what time it was when the knock on the door came. He leaped out of bed on an impulse.

"Room service," the knocker bellowed. Bond had not ordered room service. He withdrew his Walther PPK from his shoulder holster. Slowly he crept towards the door. The knocking ceased. He stood to one side of the door. The door handle turned. Whoever was out there wanted in. Now the door was almost completely opened, allowing the hallway light to creep in. The door opened wide. Bond quickly grasped the hand that held the door handle and tossed the figure across the room. It landed in a heap. Bond flipped on the light.

It was a woman. A beautiful one, also. She had auburn hair and bright hazel eyes. She was about five feet six inches. Her frame was small and bony.

"Who are you and why are you here?" Bond angrily demanded.

"I-I can explain! My name is Mariah Cinder. I'm with the RCMP. I came here to help you. I used room service as cover. Please believe me," she begged. Bond wanted to trust her. Her eyes twinkled with childish innocence. He succumbed to it and lowered his weapon. "Now it's your turn. Who are you?" she asked.

"The name's Bond, James Bond. I'm with SIS."

"Great. Let's get to work then, shall we?" Bond helped her to her feet. He checked his watch. It was nearing six. It had been twenty-four hours since his interview with M.

"What do you know about EVIL?" he started off by asking.

"A lot. EVIL stands for Evil Villains Illegal League, by the way. I've located their warehouse. It's by the river, close to the falls. It's under heavy guard, but there's a way in at the back that's less protected. They're buying the nuke off of a renegade arms dealer. The exchange will take place tonight. We've got to stop them."

"We?"

"Just because I'm a woman doesn't mean I can't take care of myself. I'm coming with you."

"Alright. Are you armed?"

"Of course."

"Then let's go."

The warehouse looked like a rundown, abandoned factory. It was literally a shambles.

"Is this the place?" Bond asked Mariah.

"Yes. What's wrong?" she questioned him.

"Nothing. It's just...a dump. I expected something a bit more, well, grand than this."

"Oh. I see. Take the car around to the back, but keep your distance. They'll be out in force." The two were on a back road surrounding the warehouse. Bond eased the Lincoln along the crude path to the back. There was a guard standing at the gate.

"Hey! You're not supposed to be here! This is private property!" he yelled. Bond got out of the car. The man walked over. "Who are you, misteh?"

"Health inspector," Bond answered. He punched the guard in the jaw, knocking him out cold. "I'm afraid you haven't quite met our standards." Bond bent down and grabbed the guard's sub-machine gun. He walked into the guardhouse and opened the gate. He got back in the driver's seat of the Lincoln and drove onward.

"Well, you got us in. Now what?" Mariah asked.

"Well...I don't know. But I'll figure something out."

The car crept along as they sat in silence. Bond finally spotted the door that Mariah had referred to as the 'way in at the back'. It was guarded by two armed thugs.

"Now, they should see us any second. On the count of three, you're to jump out and shoot them," Bond told Mariah.

"James!" Mariah apparently detested violence.

"I know, I don't like it either. But it has to be done." While Bond and Mariah were arguing, the two men had noticed them, and were advancing rapidly. "Quick! They're on to us!" Bond thrust his door open and rolled out. He let off a few bursts of gunfire. One bullet caught a guard in the shoulder and sent him spinning to the ground. Bond's clip was soon empty. The other guard, who had blindly returned fire, was also out and he began retreating towards the warehouse door. Bond hopped back into the automobile and pressed his foot down on the gas pedal. He gave chase. The guard panicked. The Lincoln was practically on his heels by now. At the last second the man attempted to jump out of the way. The car's fender caught him and his body flipped over the hood and window shield. The, suddenly, it collided with the warehouse's brick wall and broke right through. Bricks, plaster, drywall, and dust scattered everywhere. The Lincoln's front end, as well as the engine, was totaled.

James Bond struggled with his car door. It gave way and fell off in his hands. He clambered out, coughed because of the immense amount of dust, and looked over at Mariah. She was dazed and had suffered a few scrapes and bruises, but otherwise she was fine.

"Are you alright?" he asked her. She just breathed heavily for a moment, then reached out and slapped him across the face.

"Yes. But don't ever do that again," she replied. Bond pressed his hand against his cheek.

"And don't ever do that again either. Let's go." They began their descent into the warehouse. They had seen no one yet. As they crept along a corridor, they heard voices coming from behind a door. Bond cautiously opened it. It led on to a walkway overlooking a room below. Bond and Mariah hid behind a corner pillar. There were five men talking on the lower floor.

"I'm afraid there has been a security breach. A man and a girl. I have sent my men to investigate. We must do this quickly," a tiny, Spanish man announced. It was LaSenza, and Bond knew it.

"Where is the five million dollars you promised me?" asked another man, most likely the arms dealer. The other three were thugs of the two men.

"What about the nuke?"

"It's in a truck in the back. Now where is my money?"

"Right here!" A huge man standing beside LaSenza, presumably a lackey of his, whipped out a gun as his boss did likewise. Before the other three could react, they were gunned down fiercely. "Adios, amigos!" Vadro laughed. "C'mon, Level." He was addressing his underling. As the big man turned, Bond realized why LaSenza called him Level. His face was almost entirely flat. It was also wickedly distorted. Bond grimaced.

"We have to follow them," Bond whispered to Mariah as LaSenza and Level left the room. "Let's go." Bond led the way back into the corridor and down a set of stairs. They could see LaSenza and Level down the long hallway. They silently pursued them outside. The guards were swarming. Bond and Mariah ducked into the doorway, but it was too late.

"There they are! Get them!" a thug shouted. Bond and Mariah spun around and fled off back down the hall, bullets slamming into the walls around them. They didn't get far. Two doors ahead of them swung open and groups of guards poured out. More enemies blocked their other escape route. "Drop your weapons!" a guard commanded. They did as instructed. The crowd parted and LaSenza came through, followed by Level.

"Ha! So, Señior Bond, you thought you could ruin my plan? Well, you thought wrong. Level?" The big man nodded, pulled out a gun, and the next thing Bond knew he had a dart protruding from his neck.

It was the next morning. Bond did not know where he was. Everything was still blurry. He felt movement-rocking. He heard voices and fragments of speech.

"Take him...dump...falls....no trace." It sounded like Vadro LaSenza. He could make out a grunt-that was Level. Other mixes of voices, all unidentifiable. His vision was now restored. He was in a small motorboat. He was tied up. Level was there, so were three other men, including the driver. The boat started up, then began to accelerate quickly. The other men were looking away. Bond commenced rubbing the rope against the boat's sharp edge. It was working. It took a few minutes, but he was finally set free. At that moment, a man rose to stretch and happened to turn around. Bond kicked out sharply. His foot caught the man in the ribcage and he toppled overboard. His scream and the splash alerted the other goons. The duo that was not already occupied with piloting the boat spun around to face Bond and charged.

The first man came at Bond and swung his fist. Bond ducked and punched his assailant in the stomach. Then he karate-chopped him on the nape of his neck. The man stumbled and grabbed the edge of the boat for balance. His back was to Bond now. Bond wrapped his arms around his waist and flipped him over the side.

Now it was just Bond and Level. Level delivered a gut-wrenching punch to Bond's midsection, then kicked out his legs. Bond fell to the floor. he fumbled for the gun hanging from Level's belt, the giant's hands already at his throat. Bond grabbed the gun and fired blindly, hitting the man at the wheel by chance. It clicked. It was empty and now useless. He tossed the gun, struggling to breathe. He brought his knee up into Level's stomach, causing him to release his grip. Bond glanced up. The driver's body was holding the gas pedal down-and the boat was headed straight for the falls!

Bond was on his feet again, facing Level. The boat was approximately two hundred yards away from the falls. Bond's kick was blocked Level soon had him pinned against the wall of the boat. Bond's body was dangling from the side. Then, as he was about to be thrown in, he noticed a nearing helicopter. He smashed his forehead into Level's nose, definitely breaking it. The big man let out a scream and fell back. Now the helicopter was directly over them and the pilot let a rope down. Bond reached for it and managed to grab on. By now the small motorboat below was only seventy-five yards away from the falls. Bond scrambled up the rope. Then he felt a tug at his pant leg. Level was also hanging on! Bond reached up into the chopper and felt around. He grasped something. 'Ah! The signal flares!' he thought. As Level scrambled up his legs, Bond opened the case and took out the flare gun.

At last one of Bond's feet got free and he kicked, just once. It was effective. Level was force to let go. He fell down, down into the motorboat. At that precise moment Bond fired the flare gun. As Level crashed into the boat, the flare Bond shot met its target: the gas tank. The entire craft was immediately consumed by the explosion. Seconds later, the fiery mass plunged down the waterfall into the depths below.

Bond climbed up the rope into the helicopter and sat down next to the pilot.

"Thank you, whoever you are," Bond said.

"No problem," the pilot answered. He removed his helmet, and Bond instantly recognized his light-blonde hair and lopsided smile. It was 002!

"002! What are you doing here!"

"SIS sent me as backup. We traced your movements to the warehouse. There was no sign of you so I've been patrolling for a few hours just in case. What happened?"

"It doesn't matter. They've got Ms. Cinder and the nuke."

"About her, 007. We have reason to believe that-"

"Never mind. We have to find LaSenza!" Bond interrupted him.

"But, 007, she's not a-"

"I told you, never mind! Now let's find LaSenza!"

"007, she's a-"

"Shut up! We have to find him! I think I know where he is, and if I'm right, then we have very little time!"

"Oh, fine! Where is he?"

"I'm not sure, but I have a hunch."

"And that is?"

"That the headquarters of EVIL is under the Niagara Falls itself."

"You're crazy!"

"Where else in this city could he secretly launch a nuke from?"

"Good point. How do we get in?"

"I expect the entrance is behind the falls. They probably get around by air, so there should be a helicopter pad inside. Let's go." 002 took the chopper down to waterfall level. There was a small gap between the water and the cliff face. It was large enough for their purpose, however, so they flew right in.

The view was breathtaking. Everything was bathed in an emerald-green glow. Bond had been correct. There was a landing pad. They put the copter down and hopped out. Two guards came towards them.

"Hey! Who are you?" one of them asked. 002 and 007 didn't answer. The men walked over. "I didn't hear you, man." Bond and 002 punched them both out.

"How about now?" Bond quipped. They took their clearance cards and guns and used the cards to enter the metal doorway in the rock. There were no guards in the first room. They took the wood-paneled elevator down to the only other floor. The doors opened and they stepped out.

There, in the middle of the room, stood Mariah Cinder.

"Mariah! Are you hurt?" Bond asked.

"No." She produced a .44 caliber revolver. "But you will be." Bond's eyes went wide. But, instead of shooting him, the gun's metal barrel turned to 002. She fired. 002 dropped to his knees. Mariah snickered.

"I tried...to tell you..." 002 managed to utter before he passed out. Bond felt terribly bad for his friend, but his instinct told him now was the time to act. His left hand swooped down, hitting Mariah's wrist and disarming her, while his right hand caught the weapon. She turned to run, but too late. Bond had no mercy. The gun spoke its single word. The bullet caught her between the shoulder blades. She crumpled to the ground in a lifeless heap.

Bond ran over to check 002's pulse. He was still alive, the bullet lodged somewhere in one of his kidneys. Now he had to find that nuke. He ran through a doorway into the next room. It was the control room, and it was full of scientists.

"Hands up!" Bond commanded. They obeyed out of fear. The nuclear missile was in the middle of the room, tilted slightly, aiming at a huge metallic door that led out into the waterfall. The launch sequence hadn't started. Bond ran over to it. The scientists had scattered by now-all except one. The lone scientist slammed the button marked LAUNCH down. Bond spun around and fired but missed. He escaped from the room. Now there was only one way to disarm the weapon-entering the abort code. Only thirty seconds to launch. Twenty-five. Twenty. Fifteen. Ten. Five. And then, Bond thought to himself, 'It's over. I failed. Evil has won.' He gasped. 'Of course! EVIL!' He quickly entered the four-letter code and stepped back. Then he heard the words "Launch aborted." 'Yes! He had done it!' He ran back into the other room and helped 002 to his feet.

"I'm sorry...I should have listened to you..." Bond apologized, ashamed of himself. 002 just nodded weakly. "C'mon. I've disarmed the nuke." They went up the elevator and walked outside. But there was someone there Bond hadn't expected to see. It was none other than Vadro LaSenza, holding a machete!

"Come on, Bond! Just you and me!" he challenged. Bond readily accepted. He came at Bond swiftly. Bond evaded his knife swipes, grabbed his arm and flipped him onto his back. Before Bond could kick Vadro, he rolled over and jumped to his feet. They were close to the waterfall now. Vadro got close, spun Bond around and grabbed his neck. Bond elbowed him in the stomach and LaSenza stumbled backwards. Then, with all his might, Bond delivered a magnificent roundhouse kick, Vadro slipped back, and fell into the waterfall. He was taken away by the strength of the current never to be seen again.

Bond helped 002 into the helicopter, climbed into the pilot's seat, and took to the skies. As the chopper pulled out of the cove, he said:

"I'll never mistrust you again."

"You better not."

It was a week later. The EVIL business had been wrapped up and 002 was recovering smoothly. M and Q had been delighted at the way he had handled the mission, and passed this on to the Cabinet, and eventually to the Queen herself. Tonight he was to be knighted. He had protested, because, generally, agents are not to except rewards, but this wasn't "generally", according to M. So he went along with it.

And now, somehow, he was in the throne room at Buckingham Palace. His name was called and he breathed deeply. He strode up to Her Majesty. Knelt down. Bowed his head. Felt the blade touch his shoulder...and heard the words. "I pronounce you, Sir James Bond." He stood up and smiled to the crowd.