Symbol of Hope
A/N: Just a little one-shot from the perspective of M, and the Secret Service at large, when Bond is captured in North Korea at the start of Die Another Day.
M stared up from the report that had just been brought to her. Her expression was blank…completely neutral. But her feelings at that precise moment were far from blank…
Charles Robinson, her right-hand man and the one who had brought her the ominous sounding report had a somber expression on his face.
"It's been confirmed, M", he said softly, grimly.
"And the last report we got from our South Korean friends was that he got in successfully…" M said softly.
"He got in alright…according to our sources, the capture of the arms dealer, Van Bieke, was successful. 007 assumed his identity and infiltrated the North Korean military base…but…he was discovered…and he didn't make it out", Robinson said.
"But…how?" asked M.
"We don't know yet. Presumably, someone at the camp was aware of his identity…they need not have required detailed knowledge of his mission…his mere presence there was enough", replied Robinson.
"But his identity? How did they get that?" M asked.
"Bought it from ex-KGB operatives probably. Maybe even the Chinese. Who knows? All our allies have their traitors who like to do a little bit of business on the side. And our former enemies…doubly so", Robinson said. "Besides, 007 was hardly the 'man of mystery' we all assumed him to be. He'd been out in the field for too long. He'd made too many friends…too many enemies…his name was in too many files…" Robinson was about to continue but M raised a hand wearily and stopped him.
"Yes…yes I know", she said slowly.
She knew indeed, far too well. Bond had been around for too long…well before her own time in the Service in fact. And though he barely looked a day older than the way he presumably looked when he had just started out, Bond wasn't exactly as young as he used to be…And it wasn't merely a matter of age...the years did other things to an agent…a machine could only take so much, only be stretched so far…and Bond has been stretched, or rather, had stretched himself further than any other agent, even a Double O, had. He had spent half a lifetime stalking and often hunting down the enemies of the Western world in the KGB and its dreaded predecessor SMERSH before it…and then there were the others; the megalomaniacs and masterminds whom many of Bond's contemporaries at the Service jokingly referred to as 'Bond villains'. Auric Goldfinger, Emilio Largo, Mr. Big, Francisco Scaramanga, Karl Stromberg, Hugo Drax, Franz Sanchez…Ernst Stavro Blofeld…the list went on and on, and though M had read his dossier several times by now, she still couldn't remember all of them. But she should have known…she should have known that Bond wouldn't have been able to take it anymore, that he was no longer fit for active duty…as it is, he was slightly over the age limit for the Double O Section anyway, and given his history, an 'honorary discharge' would have been best…except that he wouldn't here of it. He had given too much, and he always wanted to give more…but had he known he would have to give this much…had all the years of successfully surviving in the dangerous world of espionage, dodging destruction at every turn made him too arrogant, too confident, that he forgot his own limitations, his own mortality…that he had lost the fear of death…or worse, capture.
She realized now that she hadn't really wanted to send him on the mission to North Korea…it wasn't really instinct (M didn't believe much in instinct), it was more out of…concern. She had grown to care for Bond, a care that exceeded her growing professional respect for one of the Service's finest agents. North Korea would be too rough for him, she had almost convinced herself of the fact…but ultimately, the pragmatist in her prevailed. After all, she had reasoned, Bond could easily take care of himself, he was the most experienced Double O in the Service, and the situation in North Korea required capable hands. Bond himself had seemed so confident…so assured of absolute success…and to think of where he was now.
M tried not to think about Bond's predicament now. The best fate she could hope for him was death. She wondered if he would have the resolve to take his own life…given his cavalier attitude towards it, it was always a possibility that could be considered…but if he was alive, then there was no hope for him either…the North Koreans were no novices when it came to torture and extraction of information…she wondered vaguely, somewhere at the back of her head, how long he could hold up under torture. The professional in him would hold out to the end…but extreme torture could peel away the years and bring back the eager young man, fresh from the Royal Navy, who had first entered the Service…a young man who could be broken easily…
M sighed, stood up, and handed Robinson back the dossier. He said nothing and simply looked at her. For a few brief moments they both stood in silence, silently mourning a man they had both respected…
And then, wordlessly, Robinson walked out and M sat down. The cold professional in her returned and she carried on with her work…
By evening, the news of James Bond's capture and incarceration in North Korea had spread through the MI6 building like wildfire. M had originally wanted to keep the information restricted for the time being but then decided it would be against Bond's memory.
Morale in the building was understandably at an all-time low, especially among the Double O Section…the agents had been brutally reminded of their mortality…of how easy it was, even for the best amongst them, to be captured or killed.
Moneypenny had gone home early, claiming she was feeling sick. M knew the truth. She was privately grieving for Bond.
Bond's former superior, Admiral Sir Miles Messervy, the previous M too had personally telephoned M and express his sympathies…in some ways, M felt that she had failed her predecessor…he had entrusted her with his 'best agent', completely intact…and she had lost him…
Felix Leiter, Jack Wade, Wai Lin, Rene Mathis…so many of Bond's allies from his long and illustrious career had all expressed their sympathies. Even former KGB head General Gogol had also called. It reminded M how much Bond meant to the entire intelligence community at large…he had always been larger than life…more than a man…he was almost a symbol, an ideal…a symbol of hope in a world overrun by chaos and anarchy…and now he was gone…and in some small way, hope had died.
She remembered how he was before he'd left her office to head for North Korea. She'd given him her customary farewell to him, "Come back alive". He had simply given his confident and somewhat arrogant smile, and walked out…
She wondered, she seriously wondered, how much of that smile would be left when it was all over…more to the point, how much of the man himself would be left…she didn't know…she had no way of knowing…
She knew now. After over a year, Bond had been extracted. And as expected, he was a wreck of his former self. No more a symbol of hope…by any stretch of the imagination…he was finished, in the worst possible way imaginable…
She was going to meet him now…she didn't know what she would find…but certainly not hope…
But somehow, in some strange way, hope had a way of bouncing back. Bond had escaped…he was probably in Hong Kong by now…M did not approve of his personal vendetta…but deep down inside, she was happy…a spark of optimism had returned in her, as it had returned for the entire Service…a cloud of gloom had lifted.
Someday perhaps…when the situation improved, he would return…someday…
She saw him at the other end of the long tunnel, as confident and assured as ever…his eyes were accusing…she could understand…she had abandoned him after all…but she needed his help…because he was the symbol of hope…he along could set the world right again…