1 / Double-0 Status Approved
NOW
Prague was rather unforgiving in the winter. One never knew if they would roll their car over by turning the wrong icy corner or they would slip while walking and fall into the river. The MI6 station in Prague was usually devoid of any ice, by way of maintenance people they hired every year. So when Section Chief Dryden stepped out of his car, he was quite angry at those very maintenance people who's paychecks he signed. The ice in the parking lot was almost horrendous.
He walked into the building and stepped into the elevator. His office was on the top floor by design, and no one but him and other Section Chiefs had a key to unlock the top floor. Of course, the CSS (Chief of the Secret Service), a woman who went solely by the letter M, also had a key. And he knew M was involved when he opened the door and saw the man who was sitting in his chair.
James Bond spun around the chair to face Dryden. "M doesn't mind you earning a little extra money on the side, Dryden. She'd just prefer it if it weren't selling secrets."
Dryden took off his coat and placed it on the rack next to the door. He saw that Bond was still wearing his. No doubt carrying his weapon underneath. Dryden just gave out a light laugh. "If the theatrics are supposed to scare me," he walked over to his five-foot tall file box, "you've got the wrong man, Bond."
"I'm not so sure of that." Dryden noticed that Bond had placed a gun on the desk. It was Dryden's personal side arm.
"If M was so sure I was bent, she'd have sent a Double-0. Benefits of being Section Chief, I'd have knowledge of anyone who'd been promoted to Double-0 status. Your file shows no kills, and it takes—" He was cut off before finishing.
"Two," Bond finished for him.
THEN
Bond kneed Ernst Fisher in the face. He landed in the bathroom stall and nearly crushed the toilet. He got back up, however, and punched Bond in the face, then took the damaged toilet seat and slammed it into Bond's stomach.
NOW
Dryden quickly grabbed the gun from on top of the desk and pointed it at Bond's head. "Shame," he said, "we barely got to know each other." He squeezed the trigger, but nothing came out. He hit the magazine release and saw the bullets had been removed.
"I know where you keep your gun. I suppose that's something."
Dryden dropped the gun. "True." He took a deep breath. He knew what was coming. "How did he die?"
"You contact?" Bond shrugged. "Not well."
THEN
Bond grabbed Fisher by the neck and slammed him into the wall. He punched him in the gut twice, then backhanded him in the face. He landed on a sink.
NOW
Dryden smiled. "Made you feel it, did he?"
Bond almost scowled. Dryden knew from experience that Bond only killed if it was absolutely necessary.
THEN
Fisher brought up his gun and let a shot off. Bond ducked into a stall the second before and back himself against the stall wall. Fisher came around and was greeted by another punch. He dropped the gun this time. Bond picked it up and pistol-whipped Fisher, sending him back into the sink. Bond turned the water on and held Fisher's face down in it. He held it there until he stopped squirming, then pulled him out and dumped him on the floor.
NOW
Dryden continued to smile. "Did he give you anything? Any information?"
"No."
"Good."
"Not really."
"Actually it is. With no proof and a dead contact, you have absolutely no evidence to convict me of leaking information. And with only one kill, you have yet to be promoted to Double-0 status. But you needn't worry, the second is—" Once again Bond cut him short. This time, he didn't finish his sentence. He brought up his weapon and put a bullet straight into Dryden's eye.
"Yes," Bond said, flipping the safety switch on his Walther, "considerably."
THEN
Bond took a moment to catch his breath. He hadn't had this bad a fight for some time. While his back was turned, Fisher regained consciousness and pulled another gun from the small of his back. He raised the gun and was prepared to fire when Bond turned around and fired his weapon. The round struck Fisher in the exact center of his forehead.
One down, one to go, Bond thought.