A/N: I'm sorry, this is going to be a bit long, but this fic has been a long one in the making.
Yes! Unfortunately it's another one of those 'Bond has a daughter' fics. It's completely unrealistic, but it's just a bit of fun so I hope you don't mind. I'm not entirely happy with the action scene near the end, so any constructive criticism would be welcome :) Yes, I stole the fire extinguisher trick! I'm sorry! Don't kill me! Bond is, in my head, in his mid- twenties when he goes on his first mission.
DST ="Département de la Sûreté/SécuritéTerritoriale" (Department of Territorial Safety/Security) - French equivalent of the SIS
French Translations (That are probably wrong considering I used Google translate. Again, I'm sorry.) :
Ici = over here
Elle est là-bas = She's over there
Tirer = Shoot/fire
I hope you enjoy! :D
The man looked up as a young teen entered the café, casting a cursory glance over her before returning his eyes to his book. His companion shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the time on his watch as he scribbled figures in a notebook. The men watched covertly as she made her way to the centre of the busy café and sat down on an empty table for two, pulling an iPhone and a pair of headphones out of her jacket pocket. A waitress glanced at the men briefly, fiddling with her notepad, then made her way over to the younger girl.
"Can I get you anything?" she asked politely.
"A glass of Coke please," the girl smiled easily as the waitress scribbled down her order.
She returned her attention to her iPhone as the waitress walked back into the kitchen. One of the men shifted and rested his head overly casually on his fist, the other stared at his book with stationary eyes.
"She's clean. No weapons," came the disembodied voice of the waitress in their ears. The man with the book let out an audible sigh.
If they had bothered to look they would have seen the young teen smirk.
She flicked her long blond hair over one shoulder and stared out the window, mimicking boredom. She tapped absentmindedly on the table as she searched London's crowds. She drew herself upwards as she spotted what she was looking for, before engrossing herself in her iPhone once more.
The quiet tinkle of a bell over the chatter of the patrons was the only audible indication someone had entered the small café. The man was dressed smartly, far too smartly for this part of London. His immaculately tailored suit that should have been stifling looked almost like a second skin as he sauntered between the tables, still somehow managing to blend into the background.
The waitress appeared from the kitchen, carrying the teen's glass of Coke. As she made her way towards the table she caught the man's eye and gestured discreetly with her head to a table in the corner that was occupied by a middle-aged man. He nodded almost unperceivably as she placed the glass on the teen's table, before disappearing into the kitchen again.
The man stepped towards the corner of the room with purpose, his eyes trained on the unsuspecting customer. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a shift in the teenage girl as he threatened to walk past her. Her zip up hoodie shifted with the movement and he caught a momentary flash of a silver handle in the artificial light. He turned his head to look at her. She looked him straight in the eyes, raising one eyebrow.
In an instant he had changed his course and was sitting in the chair opposite her. His concealed earpiece gave a small crackle.
"Double-0 Seven," she greeted indifferently, taking a small sip of her beverage.
"Gemini," he nodded coolly.
'Gemini' smirked slightly, "Not what you expected?"
"Not exactly," he conceded, face carefully blank, "But then again I didn't expect you to be able to block our weapons scanner. Pistols tend to send up warning signs."
Gemini took on a slightly haughty look and patted her jacket subconsciously, "I don't like being in the open undefended. I can get around them."
Double-0 Seven's eyes flickered to her iPhone then back to her face, "You have information for us."
Gemini hummed her assent, taking another drink of Coke, regarding him over the rim.
"We have your payment."
"Well, I certainly hope so."
"Where's the intel?"
Gemini tilted her head to one side, but overlooked the question, "Your department must be desperate for the information to agree to my terms. This isn't exactly within protocol."
Double-0 Seven didn't comment, instead staring at her in an unnerving fashion. Gemini seemed unperturbed as she glanced over his shoulder to the two men who had observed her on the way in.
"Your colleagues don't seem too happy," she said lightly.
"What do you want Gemini?"
She looked him straight in the eye once more, "Information in return for the files."
"What sort of information?"
"Your first mission-"
"-Is classified," he cut her off abruptly.
Gemini blinked slowly, "Old wounds?"
Double-0 Seven clenched his jaw but said nothing.
"I'll have no trouble in taking this information elsewhere if you don't want it," Gemini smiled sardonically, "This exchange is breaking numerous MI6 codes of conduct already, and I don't think M will mind a few more."
Double-0 Seven's eyes flicked to the iPhone once more, "You know more about us than you let on."
"I did the background work," Gemini commented, tapping the iPhone in a way that was almost mocking, "But don't change the subject. Will you give me the information or not?"
Double-0 Seven sat back in his chair, "Do you mind if I ask you a question first?"
"You can ask, but I might not answer."
"How is it you can block our scanners and communications through this?" he gestured towards the iPhone.
"You noticed the communications were blocked?" genuine surprised danced across Gemini's face for a fraction of a second.
"M doesn't usually shut up on missions," he smiled wryly.
Gemini considered him for a long moment, "If you want a proper answer to your question I'd have to sit here for hours. Suffice to say it's been modified."
Double-0 Seven's lips twitched slightly, "Is that all I'm getting?"
"Yes."
"And you won't give me the intel if I don't cooperate?"
"Nope."
"Shall we get on with it then?"
"Well, we've danced 'round it long enough. I think it's time we got somewhere."
"You call this dancing?"
"Yes, now stop changing the subject," Gemini snapped, "You have my money."
Double-0 Seven dipped into his inside suit jacket pocket and withdrew a CD case. He slid it across the table as Gemini surveyed the café nonchalantly.
"They thought he was me?" she scoffed idly, glancing at the man in the corner the waitress had motioned to.
"You're a little full of yourself," Double-0 Seven commented as Gemini picked up the CD case.
She opened the case sharply and seemed satisfied by the amount on the cheque inside, tucking it discreetly in her pocket before sliding back the CD, "Aren't you?" her lips curved up in amusement as she added, "I didn't take you for a Beegees fan."
"M's idea of a joke," Double-0 Seven smirked slightly as he replaced the case in his pocket, "What do you want to know?"
"I've already told you," Gemini was quickly losing what little patience she had.
"And I've already told you I can't do that."
"Would you like your cheque back now or would you like to stall a bit more?"
Double-0 Seven resorted to an impenetrable poker face as he nodded stiffly for her to continue.
"Would you like to start or should I?" she smiled with mock sweetness.
"You."
"Fine," she downed the last of her drink before slamming it down on the table, drawing a few glances from the surrounding tables, "Your first mission was fairly simple; you had to go to Italy to investigate counterfeit currencies that were suddenly pouring out of Ravenna. The culprits were easy enough to track down, and the mission was done and dusted within a month," her gaze was suddenly sharper, "Or at least, that was what was in your official report."
Anyone who was not studying Double-0 Seven as closely as Gemini was would not have noticed the slight twitch of his left cheek, "What do you mean?"
"You know exactly what I mean," Gemini said levelly, "Your fondness for fucking women on missions didn't manifest as slowly as your previous M thought did it?" Gemini paused for a second in consideration, "Or perhaps she did notice. You never knew with her did you?"
Double-0 Seven clenched his jaw, "Your point?"
"There was another lady on that particular mission you 'had a soft spot' for. Do you remember her name, or is she just a face on a long list of conquests?"
"Rena Lovell."
Gemini clapped mockingly, "Well done! Perhaps we'll get somewhere sometime soon."
Double-0 Seven glanced over at the waitress who was hovering just within his line of vision who motioned for him to hurry up, a look of irritation on her face. Noticing his distraction, Gemini glanced back at the waitress.
"The sooner you co-operate, the sooner you can get out of here and tell Q Branch hiding a weapons scanner in her notepad was bloody obvious," she gestured backwards with her head as she spoke.
"Get it over with then."
"What happened to her?"
Double-0 Seven blinked, "She died."
Gemini cocked her head to one side, silently demanding that he elaborate.
He let out a long breath through his nose, "She was shot. We were on a rooftop and she was shot and she fell."
"She was shot in the shoulder," Gemini said surprisingly softly, "She fell onto someone's balcony and she lay there for five hours waiting for you to come and get her – she couldn't move."
Double-0 Seven's jaw re-locked.
"The owner of the flat called the hospital as soon as he got home and they managed to contact Rena's family in England. She was still waiting for you to turn up," Gemini looked cuttingly at him, "Why didn't you check the hospital records?"
"I thought she was dead," he almost snarled.
Gemini wore an expression that was akin to the one a person adopted when they had just swallowed something disgusting, "So you just forgot about her? Left her for dead in Italy?"
"I got her a gravestone. There are fresh flowers on it if you'd like to check."
Gemini looked taken aback, "What?"
"Is that enough for you, or has the inquisition only just begun?"
Gemini blinked at him, "No there's more.
"When she got back to this country, the hospital gave her a once over and let her go home to her mother. A week later she realised she was pregnant."
Double-0 Seven froze.
"It was your child of course," she scrutinised him carefully, apparently recovered from her shock, "Rena had a girl who she called Monique Lovell-Bond, since she'd remembered you mentioning you liked the name in passing. She raised her in a little house in the country. When the child was eight, they went on holiday to France. Disney Land Paris in fact. It wasn't exactly the holiday they had expected though."
"Monique! Monique!"
Monique's curious eyes darted around the crowd, choosing stubbornly to ignore her mother's calls. Her eyes were drawn to a sweet kiosk, smiling giddily as she surveyed the cheerful colours. She weaved happily through the horde, blonde curls bouncing behind her.
"Monique!"
The girl smiled brightly at the Frenchman behind the counter, "Can I have some candyfloss please?"
The man nodded, obviously used to English-speaking tourists, and smiled benignly as he moved over to the candyfloss machine. A nondescript woman came and stood behind Monique, giving her a once over as she pulled out her purse.
"MONIQUE!"
"Here you go," the Frenchman smiled as he handed her the bag of pink sugar, "That will be two Euros please."
Monique opened her mouth, considering the fact she had to pay him for the first time. The woman behind her stepped forwards.
"Here," she said shortly, thrusting a coin into his hand, adding a smile almost as an afterthought.
"Thanks," Monique said as he turned to another customer.
"Monique!"
"Why don't we go and find your mummy?" the woman bent down with an almost leer.
"Okay," Monique chirped happily, seeing only a new friend in front of her, as she finally started skipping in the direction of her mother's voice.
"MONIQUE!"
Monique winced at her mother's scold as she got into Rena's line of sight.
"For God's sake! Don't you ever do that again young lady!"
"Sorry mummy," she pouted adorably, "I just wanted some candyfloss."
Rena noticed the person standing behind her daughter for the first time, "Thank you."
"It was my pleasure," her voice was nearing amusement, a hint of malice lacing it.
Something in the smile made Rena's hackles raise, "Let's go dear."
She snatched Monique's hand and walked away faster than necessary. Monique frowned a little.
"Mummy what's wrong?"
"Nothing, nothing," Rena said absentmindedly, casting a furtive eye over the crowds, "We'll be fi-"
"Don't react. Keep walking," a man's heavily accented voice reached her from just behind her ear, "Or the child dies."
Rena's chin lifted, "You wouldn't. It's too crowded."
The answer was merely the press of a gun barrel into her back. The woman that had escorted Monique from the kiosk tossed her a derisive smile as she passed by, leading the small party out of the theme park.
Monique felt a piece of cloth press onto her mouth. The last thing she saw was her mother's terrified face as she was pushed in the back seat of a shiny black Mercedes.
"They were taken to a hotel that was owned by Georges Langelier, the unimaginatively named Le Langelier," Gemini shuddered involuntarily.
"That's owned by the DST," Double-0 Seven's brow twitched together momentarily.
"It was owned by Georges Langelier, who's a member of the DST and another organisation known as Quantum," Gemini cocked her head to one side, "I believe you're familiar with them."
"Unfortunately," Double-0 Seven said, barely concealed contempt in his voice.
"I'd suggest telling M not to send more agents there," she commented lightly, "I'm surprised he hasn't put two and two together considering the five he's sent there in the last six months have 'magically' disappeared."
"You know what's happened to them."
"Presumably something similar to what happened to your daughter," she took pleasure in the small tick of his cheek and leaned forward slightly.
Monique woke slowly, letting out a small whimper at the pain in her upper arm.
"I see your daughter is awake."
Rena fixed her eyes on the figure of her daughter in the corner of the room. The man who had spoken paced in front of her and blocked her view. She glared up at him through her hair, tugging fruitlessly on the ties restraining her.
"Now, considering I have your daughter and you are tied to a chair, I don't think you are in any position to refuse my demands," the words were jumbled and barely comprehensible through his thick French accent, but the cruelty was still apparent, "Just so you know I have no conscience in permanently deforming her, although it would be a shame on someone so young."
He nodded. Another man stepped around from behind Rena and walked over to Monique's side. She flinched away from him, eyes searching for her mother.
The man didn't look phased when a nauseating crack rent the air. Monique screamed helplessly and clawed at the boot that had crushed her arm.
"Will you co-operate Ms Lovell?"
Rena trembled.
"Yes."
"What did they want?"
"What do Quantum always want?" the rhetorical question left Gemini's lips bitterly, "Something to get them one step ahead of the world's secret services." She rested her chin on her hand, "They thought Rena had information about you."
Double-0 Seven merely blinked.
"Or at least that she could be used as some sort of bait for you," Gemini took on a tone a person would use when commenting on the weather, "One of their main objectives at the time was eliminating as many agents they could, and despite the fact you weren't a Double-0 then you were still a fairly reliable agent."
"Was that a compliment?" Double-0 Seven's voice was unsuitably amused.
"Hardly," Gemini snorted, "A compliment would be more of 'you were an excellent agent'."
"And I wasn't?"
"Not in my book. Now, is this really relevant?" she raised her eyebrows, daring him to stop her from continuing.
Double-0 Seven gestured for her to resume, sharp eyes fixed on her face.
"Rena and Monique worked reluctantly with Quantum for two years until the men at the top realised they weren't of any use," Gemini inspected his face carefully, "They were…forced to pursue other options."
"Bond hasn't come for you or your daughter."
Rena looked at the man with whom she had struck her bargain two years prior, "I never guaranteed he would Mr Langelier."
Langelier placed a single sheet of paper he had been reading down on his desk, "Nevertheless, we have no use for you."
Rena glanced sideways at her daughter. Monique's gaze, that was far too old for her age, was fixed stubbornly on a portrait just above Langelier's head. Her posture was ridged.
"Your daughter is another matter entirely," Langelier tapped his cheek thoughtfully.
Monique's gaze snapped to him.
"I don't believe the intelligence services will be looking for a teenager."
"But she's only-"
"She will be trained for several years Ms Lovell. We wouldn't dream of sending a ten year old," he laughed falsely, "Too much can go wrong."
Rena glanced at her daughter once more.
"So, Monique," Langelier slipped deeper into his French accent as he said her name, "Will you consent to this?"
"Do I have a choice? You'll threaten my mum if I don't," she looked at him with a hint of defiance.
"No, you are correct," Langelier smiled contentedly, "Your training starts tomorrow. You will be escorted to the training room at six hundred hours."
Monique nodded in resignation as Rena swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat.
"By the time she was nearly fifteen she would have been able to pass the tests agents take before they join MI6," Gemini absently played with her empty glass, "She did, in fact, in a round-a-bout manner. Quantum re-created them."
"And?"
"And then Quantum sent her into the field. They were right, of course. No one suspected a teenager. They didn't give her anything particularly dangerous to do, only intel gathering."
"Why are you telling me this?" Double-0 Seven's voice was impatient. His eyes flicked to his colleagues then back to Gemini's face.
"Work it out for yourself," Gemini snapped irritably.
Silence dropped over them as Double-0 Seven re-assessed her. Gemini seemed unfazed, although the tap of her foot indicated her restlessness.
"A year later Rena and Monique were summoned back to Le Langelier," Gemini continued without prompting, "It was…eventful, to say the least."
"Ah, the lovely Monique," Langelier smiled jovially from his seat beside a wide shouldered man as Monique entered the room, "It is a pleasure to see you again my dear! How are you?" he turned to the other man without waiting for her answer, "Hard to believe she is only fifteen, eh?"
He threw his head back and laughed loudly, the whiskey from his over-full glass sloshing all over his expensive suit. The man next to him looked less than impressed at his behaviour.
Monique restrained the roll of her eyes, "You called for me sir?"
"Oui," once he had stopped laughing, Langelier looked at her with a dazed smile, "Mr Southall has a task for you."
"I would like you to kill someone for me," the man, who was apparently named Southall, uttered softly.
Monique blinked several times as she gathered her wits.
"Well?"
"Who is the target?" she said at last.
Southall broke into a gapped smile, "It seems you were right about her Langelier, she has spunk."
Langelier took a large swig from his glass and didn't answer.
Southall pressed a concealed buzzer under the edge of the table. The door Monique had walked in through swung open silently as two men dragged a figure into the room. She barely turned to glance at them, focussing instead on Southall. He seemed faintly amused at this, staring at her face with a too innocent smile. The door clicked shut as the men retreated from the room, leaving the third person in a pile on the floor.
Southall's smile grew into a malicious grin, "Say hello to our guest Miss Bond."
Monique drew her eyes away from his face suspiciously. She froze as she looked at the figure.
"This is the target," Southall opened a case on the desk and removed a lady's pistol.
Southall threw it casually and Monique caught it before it collided with her face. Her eyes returned to the person sprawled on the floor instantly. They didn't look up.
"Ms Lovell," Southall cooed insultingly, "Why don't you look at your daughter when she's trying to shoot you?"
Rena met Monique's eyes for the first time since entering the room. Her eyes showed only resignation. Monique cut a quick glance to Langelier. His eyes were fixed stubbornly on the bottom of his glass.
Rena gave the smallest of nods.
Monique cocked the gun, curling her finger around the trigger diffidently. She raised the gun shakily, her eyes locked with her mother's.
"Miss Bond? Is there a problem?" Southall sipped his own drink leisurely.
Monique's arm dropped.
"I won't do it."
Southall inclined his head, "I can understand that."
He withdrew his own pistol from the inside of his suit jacket, aimed and fired.
Rena crumpled to the floor.
Calmly, Southall turned his gun on Langelier, "However, I cannot tolerate it."
Another shot echoed throughout the room and Langelier slumped forward in his seat.
"This faction of Quantum has been far too lenient," Southall replaced the gun in its holster coolly, "If you do not recognise the change in leadership I will have no problem with dealing with you in the same manner, no matter how useful you are. Are we clear?"
Monique nodded numbly, her gaze fixed on her mother, a gleam of moisture gathering around the edges of her eyes.
Southall stood up and swiftly left the room, barely glancing at the bodies as he passed.
Monique sank to her knees, sobs muffled by her hand. She curled protectively over her mother as she rocked back and forth. Rena's blood stained her hands red.
Double-0 Seven's eyes flickered, "I'm sorry."
"What for?" Gemini challenged.
Double-0 Seven ignored the question, "What happened?"
"She got out of there."
Monique walked down the hallway coldly, sparing no one a glance. She was acutely aware of the security cameras following her every move as she sped her way back to her room.
She slid silently inside her room and leant against the door. Her lip quivered slightly. Steeling herself, she pushed off the door and made her way to the bathroom. Turning the taps on full, she stuck her hand under the hot stream of water.
She watched morosely as her mother's blood washed off her hands.
Something in her gaze steeled.
Casually she unzipped her jacket and flung it carelessly over the mirrored lamp on her dressing table, blocking the view of the camera she knew was concealed. Keeping as silent as possible, she stripped of the rest of her bloodied clothes and pulled on the first clean jeans and top she laid her hands on. She dropped to her knees, yanked the mattress up from her bed and slipped out a thin black bag. She stared at the note attached to the front.
A gift for when you both want to get out - S
Monique took a deep breath, unzipped the bag and was faced with its contents. There were doubles of everything – a thought she winced at. She pocketed the newest generation iPhone, the Euros and forged passports and other ID with various aliases. Clipping one of the gun magazine holsters around her she slid a pistol into it, slipping on a hoodie to hide them. The lighter (the only item without a double) she frowned at for a second, when it dawned on her what 'S' wanted her to do with it and she set light to the corner of the bag.
Monique grabbed her iPhone and tapped it urgently as she moved into her living area. She leant against the main door, totally transfixed by the screen, before she smiled in triumph and her iPhone joined the Euros in her back pocket as she opened the door.
She strode confidently down the corridor, checking her watch as she did so. She had about a minute before all Hell broke loose.
/
"Sir, the cameras are down."
Southall turned on the man sitting in front of the numerous screens, phone frozen next to his ear.
"Southall?" a man's voice came from the other end of the phone, "What's going on down there?"
"I'm not sure. Whatever it is we'll contain it."
"Make sure you do."
/
"Ici!"
Monique cursed under her breath and broke into a run.
Bullet holes adorned the wall as she spun round the corner. The clamour of gun fire followed her as she raced down the hallways.
Dropping into an odd crouch-like run, she gave up her pretence and pulled her pistol out of her hoodie. She skid to a stop and glanced around the corner, loading the gun. She fired a blind shot behind her as she sidled around the corner. Letting out a breath, she stuck close to the wall as she broke into another sprint. She knew her only way out was the lift. The only trouble was her pursuers knew it too.
Monique abruptly veered abruptly down a narrow corridor, heaving breaths of air.
/
Southall allowed himself a small smile as the security feeds flickered back to life. He scanned them quickly, then squinted incredulously at the small figure on one of the screens.
"What do you think you're doing Miss Bond?"
/
Monique slid into the caretaker's storeroom. Glancing around the cupboard that was familiar from the several escapades where she had hidden in it, she shoved her gun into her belt, locking the door behind her. Moving over to a set of shelves, she pulled a large screwdriver out of an old tool box. She climbed hastily up a pile of boxes, supressing a wry smile when she got to the top and set to work with the screwdriver.
After all, where would espionage be without air ducts?
/
"Where is she?"
"I don't know, sir. She's not in the storeroom."
"Make sure the lift is surrounded. She cannot get out."
/
Monique dropped to the ground from the shaft, the metal ventilation grate clanging noisily against the hard floor beside her. She cocked her gun.
"Elle est là-bas!"
"Bollocks," she murmured quietly.
Once more she broke into a sprint, looking over her shoulder and extending her gun. She shot the fire extinguishers on either side of the corridor. The chemicals gushed from the containers and obscured the guards from her view, and her from theirs. Taking advantage of the cover she darted away from the chemical fog, pulling out her phone and tapping buttons as she did so.
Panting, she rounded yet another corner. The members of Quantum were poised with their guns at the end of the corridor, barring the doors of the lift.
The leader of the group shouted in choppy English, "Stop! Don't move!"
Monique slid to a halt just as the people she thought she had left behind appeared behind her. Slowly, she threw her gun to the ground and raised her hands behind her head.
Her phone buzzed I her back pocket, telling her the timer she had set had gone off.
The guards clutched at their ears as their earpieces emitted a high pitched squealing. Monique darted through the guards to reach the lift. On cue, the lights flickered and died. Desperately she yanked at the lift doors, opening them made easier now the power was off. She flinched as one of the guards started firing blindly in her direction. Her breathing sped up as she squeezed though the gap in the lift doors.
The power flickered on again. Sending a panicked look towards the now recovered guards, Monique finally squeezed through the doors. She hissed as a bullet embedded itself in her arm before the doors slid shut. Frantically, she pressed the button that would take her up to the hotel's ground floor and clutched her bleeding arm.
"At least that bit's over," she mumbled under her breath.
/
"She's in the lift sir."
Southall slammed his fist into a computer screen, "Blanchet, stop it and then bring it back down. Now!"
"Already on it, sir."
/
Monique gave into the urge to cry out as she used her injured arm to pull herself up the ladder. She winced as the lift mechanisms started moving it back down the shaft, taking the light that was spilling from the open hatch in the roof with it. Taking a deep breath she pushed her muscles harder. It was only a matter of minutes before they realised what had happened.
/
"Tirer!"
The guards opened fire as the lift doors slid open. The bullets embedded themselves in the back wall. It was empty.
"Sir, she's gone."
Southall frowned, jaw clenched. A breath rushed out of his nose as he watched the armed men creep cautiously into the lift from various angles on the illuminated screens in front of him.
"The ceiling hatch is open."
Southall swore under his breath, "Blanchet, send a squad up to the ground floor. We'll cut her off."
The man in front of the keyboard looked startled, "But sir, the hotel guests-"
"Damn the guests! We need her back here now!"
/
Monique let out a yelp of pain as she began prising the door open, eyes watering as her arm throbbed. She wobbled precariously on the tiny ledge. Relief coursed through her as the door slid open wide enough for her to squeeze through.
She extended a pleasant smile to the stunned hotel guests waiting for the lift.
"The lift's never there when you're in a hurry," she said, as if that offered all the explanation in the world.
The shouts from people across the lobby put her on guard again. It appeared she had chosen a good time to make a run for it as all the guests had just returned for the day. A hush had spread across the crowd, capturing everyone in an odd spell. She dodged through the crowd using them as cover.
She slunk to stick to the walls. Her eyes widened as she saw the source of the shouting; a group of armed Quantum thugs were brandishing machine guns at the guests, shouting at them, searching for her.
Someone screamed.
Noise erupted across the room. The crowd swept her up in its rapid tide, spreading across the room, seemingly swelling in size - pushing and buffeting her as violently as any ocean towards the open glass doors. Through the sea of panicked expressions she glimpsed the members of Quantum, dragging random people out of the crowd, brandishing their guns in terrified faces, before moving onto the next person when they couldn't find her.
Monique shoved her way through the glass doors before someone could slam her face into them. She hurried down the front steps as the first strains of police sirens drifted in the air. Safe temporarily as part of the crowd, she shoved with her good arm against the tide of people to hurry down the street. She barely glanced back as the members of Quantum began shooting down citizens. She snatched up a hat and a coat that a tourist who was staring in shock at the massacre had left unattended and pulled them on. She didn't even linger long enough to watch the police drive up and join the commotion, trying in vain to save the remaining guests.
/
Southall glared at the screens showing the front of the hotel.
"We've lost her sir."
A small growl escaped his throat.
Blanchet turned in his seat and looked at him, "What should I order them to do sir?"
Southall's face twisted into a sneer, "Tell them to swallow their cyanide pills."
Blanchet, looking unfazed, repeated the order to the agents in a monotone.
Southall leant closer to the computer screens, "Circulate any rumours you necessary to make sure the blame can't be placed on Le Langelier; it's too valuable an asset to loose. Say it was Quantum's work if you must, but it must not be tied to here. And get some stealth agents on finding Miss Bond. She won't be able to remain hidden for long."
"Yes sir."
/
Monique had lost the convenient cover of the crowd several streets behind her. The area she was in was by no means deserted, but she could be easily seen from all directions and it was making her nervous. She kept getting odd glances for the blood seeping through the material of the stolen jacket, the pain trebling since the adrenaline had long since lost effect.
*BRING*
Monique stared down at her phone in surprise. She hesitated in her stride for a fraction of a second then opened the message.
Meet me here. S
She tapped on the attached location and the directions opened in Maps. Abruptly, she stopped in the middle of the street, provoking a few choice expletives from a local man walking behind her. She apologised absently as she stared at the innocent blue arrow on her phone, telling her to head straight on.
"Oh, what the hell," Monique muttered under her breath, taking large strides in the direction indicated.
/
A man with dark hair that was neatly swept back leant nonchalantly against the side of his BMW. He alternatively glanced at his phone and the end of the road. Eventually, he pocketed the phone, staring unerringly at the corner of the deserted street.
Monique strode round the corner confidently, tucking her own phone away as she saw he was the only one there. He noted with some approval that he couldn't tell whether or not the confidence was put on, and with some disapproval that there was a dark patch of blood on her arm.
She stopped a few metres from him and took in every last detail of his appearance. Her mouth pressed together as she considered something. The man waited silent and unmoving.
"Who are you?" she asked at last.
He shifted onto one leg and answered simply, "Scorpio."
Monique let out a quiet snort, "Whose idea was that?"
'Scorpio' smirked, "It was a collaborative effort."
Monique nodded internally, "Of you and 11 others?"
Scorpio tilted his head; glad she had apparently caught on, "Only 10 now."
"Is this why you decided to help me?"
"Yes," Scorpio's face turned somewhat kinder, "All of us have been wronged by Quantum – trained from a young age like you were, had their families killed. One of us got out and decided to help others do the same. The idea of the Zodiac came sometime after when we wanted to take revenge."
"When you do ridiculous names you don't do it by halves do you?" Monique muttered under her breath.
Scorpio smiled and flipped out his phone again, checking a notification. He frowned and typed with quickly with one hand.
"You being summoned?"
Scorpio looked back at her but didn't answer.
She sighed, "If I don't agree, what happens?"
"You go it alone, up against all of Quantum," Scorpio sounded almost regretful, "We can't afford to keep an eye on everyone ex-Quantum."
"And if I agree?"
"You can receive extra training from one of us if you wish and you can choose your own missions as long as they are at the detriment of Quantum. And get your arm patched up."
Monique let out a long sigh and watched as Scorpio's attention was diverted to his phone again. She stood stoic for several long minutes, before her expression became resolved. She waited until she had Scorpio's attention once more.
"So, what's my name gunna be?"
Double-0 Seven looked at her with slightly narrowed eyes. Gemini leaned back in her chair and studied him. Eventually she sighed, her shoulders slumping. She frowned and took her eyes off Double-0 Seven, as she turned to look at the people bustling past the window.
"Is that all?"
Gemini threw a glance his way, "Yes."
She reached into the front pocket of her jeans and tossed a simple-looking USB stick carelessly onto the table. Double-0 Seven snatched it up casually and tucked it into the inside pocket of his suit jacket.
With a certain amount of dignity, Gemini rose from her seat and brushed past the edge of the table.
Double-0 Seven grabbed her arm.
"Is there anything I can do for you Monique?" he asked quietly.
Gemini froze at her given name, then came back to herself and abruptly shook his hand off.
"Just don't make any more mistakes like me," she spat with a large amount of pent up bitterness.
Double-0 Seven, otherwise known as James Bond, watched her as she stalked out of the café that wasn't nearly as busy as it had been when he walked in.
His earpiece crackled back to life.
"Double-0 Seven, what's going on there?"
Double-0 Seven glanced at the chair on the opposite side of the table for a split second before he stood up and made the same path to the door as his daughter.
"Nothing important."