Mission MacWolf II: Operation Elimination

by brentmacwolf

The second M:M story in the trilogy. This is a crossover of Balto and 007 Goldeneye

Mission MacWolf II: Operation Elimination

The sequel to the spy novel by silverbalto

Arkangel Chemical Research Facility, USSR

A single plane flew over the giant dam that sat directly above the Arkangel Chemical Facility. This facility was the focus of the USSR's most sinister thoughts. This was during the Cold War, and Russia was using the facility to create weapons too deadly to describe; anthrax-filled nuclear missiles, long-range aerial attack bombs and much more. The British government saw this as a real problem, and in agreement with the CIA, M-I6 sent in their most trusted agents; agents 006 Charlie B. Barkin and 009 Brent MacWolf. 006 had already made the trip into the facility three days earlier, and had established himself a safe house inside the main building. His status remains to be seen. Now it was Brent's turn. With a steel cable around his shoulder, Brent bolted across the top of the dam, coming to a stop on the spot right above the entrance to a ventilation duct below. Brent uncoiled the cord and attached one of the clips on either end to the railing; the other attached to his boot. Taking a deep breath, Brent stepped back and hurled his body over the railing. When he was above halfway down, 009 took out a piton pistol and aimed it for the concrete platform the ventilation grid sat upon. He pulled the trigger and felt a vibration up his arms as the piton rocketed toward the concrete and imbedded itself deep. 009 reeled pulled himself the rest of the way and disconnected the cable. It shot straight up the dam wall like a slingshot. Now to get into the base. Removing the grid, 009 slipped inside the vent system and crawled toward a square shape of light.

That light was coming from the men's washroom. Below sat a Soviet officer reading a newspaper. Suddenly, he heard a noise and lowered his newspaper to reveal Brent's face, hanging upside-down.

''Beg your pardon,'' Brent replied, ''forgot to knock.''

009 then wound up and nailed the Soviet in the face, knocking him out. Brent slipped down into the stall silently and pulled out his silenced Desert Eagle 10. Making his way down to the first floor, 009 slipped into a storage room and looked through a small window. The facility's staff was having lunch. Brent sneaked away from the window and suddenly felt the cold barrel of a gun on his neck.

''Don't even breath, where are your companions?'' a sinister voice asked in Russian.

''I'm alone.'' Brent answered calmly. The barrel pulled away and Charlie B. Barkin appeared.

''Aren't we all,'' he whispered smugly, ''you're late as usual 009.''

Brent smiled.

''Had to stop in the bathroom.'' He said. Charlie gave his partner a pat on the back.

''Ready to save the world again Brent?'' he questioned. 009 nodded.

''After you 006.''

The two agents searched around and found yet another vent system. Charlie removed the grid and said, ''Brent, for England?''

Brent nodded.

''For England Charlie.'' He answered and jumped into the vent.

The main chemical labs, 10 minutes later…

A lone Irish Setter scientist in a white lab coat walked down the hallway. He trotted right over the vent that both 006 and 009 were under. The small vent opened and Brent peered out. When the coast was clear, Brent slipped the cover off and silently climbed into the floor. Charlie follows and both agents run toward the door to the main containment area. Charlie aimed his pistol and shot the scientist that Brent had seen earlier. He toppled forward and landed on the ground without making a sound. 009 ran to the security door and placed a decoder onto the mechanized door lock. The decoder made a few random beeps and the door opened a crack. Brent grabbed the decoder and ran through the door, closely followed by Charlie. The door locked automatically behind them. Brent didn't like the silence inside the chamber.

''It was too easy.'' He said grimly. Charlie shrugged it off.

''Half of everything's luck Brent.'' He replied. Brent turned to his partner.

''And the other half?'' he asked. Just as Charlie was about to answer, an alarm sounding, making loud shrills as it did so.

''Fate.'' Charlie finished. The two agents ran down the metal staircase and hid behind the large containment vats. Two armed Soviet guards ran in, AK-47s in hand. Charlie jumped from his hiding spot and fired three shots; two sent the first guard over the staircase and onto the floor, the other buried itself into the head of the other guard. Charlie grabbed the AK-47s and threw one to 009.

''Set the timer on those mines for six minutes!'' Charlie yelled. Brent nodded.

''Six minutes, roger!'' he said and placed the first mine on a vat. Outside the chamber, about fifty or so guards stood in front of the bullet-proof glass windows. Behind them walked a colonel. He is none other than Colonel Steele. Steele was a shrewd dog, who was paranoid in his military decisions. If he had ever gotten his way as the leader of the Soviet military, he would have had guards watching guards, watching guards, and so on to infinity. Brent had just placed the second mine, he heard Steele yell, ''Fire!''

The entire chamber was filled with the sounds of thousands of bullets hitting the bullet-proof glass. Eventually, the bullets would overwhelm the only shield they had.

''Closing time Brent,'' Charlie called, ''last call!''

''Buy me a pint.'' Brent answered as he placed the fourth mine. Just then, the locked door was blown off its hinges, and hundreds of guards swarmed into the containment chamber. Brent placed the final charge and yelled, ''shut the door Charlie, there's a daft!''

The room remained silent. 009 didn't like this.

''Charlie?'' he called. 009 gripped his AK-47 and peered around the corner. There stood Steele; a smug grin on his face, and a pistol pointed at 006's head.

''Move out,'' Steele ordered, ''throw down your weapon and walk towards me…slowly.''

Charlie turned his head and yelled, ''finish the job Brent, blow 'em all to hell!''

Steele pushed the pistol into Charlie's head.

''You have ten seconds.'' He yelled and started to count down. Brent ducked back behind the vats and reset the timer to three minutes. Taking a deep breath, 009 dropped his AK-47 and walked slowly out from his hiding spot. Steele was at four.

''Three, two, one…''

''For England Brent!'' Charlie yelled. Steele pulled the trigger. Charlie's head bounced and he fell forward. The guards behind Steele started to fire, but he stopped them.

''Hold your fire,'' he barked, ''you'll blow the gas tanks!''

Brent ran back behind the tanks and grabbed his weapon.

''This is your last change,'' Steele thundered, ''come out with your hands above your…''

009 jumped behind a mobile gas cart and starts to walk toward a conveyor belt. All the guards raise their weapons, but Steele turned.

''Wait!'' he shouted. All the guards hold their fire, but keep their aim on 009. Just then, one soldier fired. Three bullets ricochet off the metal cart, and almost sank themselves into 009. Steele whirled around and fired at the guard, dropping him easily. Brent peered out from behind the cart and continued his path along the chamber floor. Suddenly, the cart stopped dead; it had smacked into a conveyor belt. Steele smiled.

''You can't win.'' He taunted. Brent watched as the rifles rose up. Just then, he caught sight of something in his peripheral vision; the conveyor belt's activation button. It would be risky, but if anyone could do it, it was 009. Brent took a deep breath and pressed the button and jumped onto the now running belt. Steele pointed at 009, but before he could yelled the order to fire, Brent let loose a barrage of bullets at the ceiling. Steele looked up and saw a flood of steel barrels falling onto them.

Brent rolled out onto the snowy ground outside. He looked ahead and saw the scout plane taxiing down the large runway. Behind him, he heard the sounds of heavy boots coming his way. 009 ran toward the plane, just as the doors to the facility burst open and a horde of soldiers flowed out into the cold air. Brent dove behind a mass of piping, and heard a few bullets ricochet off the metal cylinder his head was resting against. 009 pooped up and finished off the AK-47's magazine in the direction of the soldiers; about forty-four fell. Brent pulled the trigger, but it clicked on an empty mag. Brent cursed and threw the empty AK-47 onto the ground, making a break for the plane. 009 ran up beside the plane and opened the door. The pilot inside stared blankly at 009, but reached for his pistol. Too late; Brent jumped in and wrestled with the pilot. Two Soviets on motorbikes sped up beside the plane. Brent aimed the pistol and fired at the first Soviets; who fell backward and sent the bike sprawling onto the ground. 009 rolled out of the plane, taking the pilot with him. Brent got up and back to the motorbike; revving its engine and speeding off.

''Hold your fire!'' Steele ordered as he ran up, just in time to see 009 chasing after the plane.

''He'll never make it,'' Steele replied, ''the plane's going over the cliff.''

Brent saw the plane fly over the edge of the runway and clutched his teeth. The motorbike launched itself over the cliff and 009 went into a free fall. The plane was going into a nosedive, and 009 was coming up fast. Brent grabbed the seat and pulled himself into the pilot's seat. He looked forward and saw the ground coming up to meet him. 009 pulled back on the control stick and felt the plane slowly pulling up. Brent closed his eyes and said a small prayer in his head. All of a sudden, the plane's front headed toward the sky. The plane soared into the air and away from the facility, just as it disappeared into a massive fireball.

Nine years later, the French Riviera, Monaco,

An Aston Martin DB5 raced along the cliff-side roads. Brent MacWolf was driving, and in the passenger seat beside him sat a beautiful cocker spaniel named Lady. She was very nerve-racked from Brent's driving; she was only there to evaluate him. Lady gathered up enough courage to ask, ''Brent, is it really necessary to drive quite so fast?''

009 smiled as her and answered, ''more often than you think.''

Suddenly, a red Ferrari rushed up and matched the Martin's insane speed.

''I enjoy a casual ride as much as the next girl.''

Brent looked over at the driver. She was an Irish Setter in a black attire, and she was looking at 009 with a hint of challenge in her eyes. Lady looked over and asked, ''who's that?''

Brent pushed the pedal down and answered, ''the next girl.''

Lady clutched the armrest as Brent raced the Ferrari. The two cars weaved around each other, and everything was going smoothly until the three dogs sighted a large tractor driving down the road. Brent turned the wheel to the right, missing the tractor, but the driver in the Ferrari turned the opposite way, and was sent spinning out of control on the dirt. She regained the car's balance and was back on the road. Lady was getting impatient.

''Brent, stop this,'' she requested, ''stop it.''

She then added, ''I know what you are doing.''

Brent stared at her with a mock questioning look.

''Really,'' he questioned, ''what's that dear?''

''You're just trying to show off the size of your…''

''Engine?'' Brent remarked.

''Ego.'' Lady retorted.

''We're having a nice drive in the countryside, and you've got to bring psychology into it.'' Brent replied.

''Well, I was sent here to evaluate you.'' Lady said

''Let's just put that behind us.'' 009 answered as he saw the Ferrari gaining on him. He shifted his Martin into fourth gear and matched the Ferrari's speed. Ahead of the two cars, a bit farther ahead actually, a group of cyclists were enjoying their ride. Lady looked through the windshield and saw the cyclists, and the cyclists saw the cars. 009 was calm and replied, ''ladies first,'' as he motioned for the Ferrari to go ahead of him. The Setter smiled and accepted Brent's offer. The two cars sped past the cyclists, sending them falling forward. The Ferrari sped away from the DB5, and 009 was about to give chase, when he heard Lady give him an order.

''Brent I want you to stop this car.'' She said sternly. Brent was shocked.

''Really?'' he asked.

''Stop this car at once!'' Lady thundered. Brent grinned and pulled the parking brake back. The Austin skidded to a halt with an overlook of the harbour. Lady stared out the windshield and took deep breaths. She hadn't been that scared in a while. Brent leaned over and replied, ''as you can see, I have no trouble with female authority.''

009 then flipped open the armrest, revealing a chilled champagne bottle and two glasses. Lady giggled.

''Brent, you're so incorrigible,'' she said softly, then found herself slowly leaning toward 009, ''what am I going to do with you?''

''Let's just toast to our evaluation,'' Brent whispered as the two kissed, ''a very thorough evaluation.''

Later that night…

009 Pulled up to the front of the huge Casino de Monaco. He stopped the car and looked out the window as a French valet. He was a typical French retriever, clad in a crimson valet suit and a flat-topped bellhop hat. He opened the door and accepted 009's keys.

''Good evening Monsieur MacWolf, nice to see you.'' He replied. Brent patted the valet on the back.

''Good evening Pierre,'' he answered, ''how are things?''

''Good,'' Pierre said, ''very good.''

Brent smiled and straightened his tie and cuffs. 009 was dressed in a new tailored tuxedo, black dress pants, black dress shoes (polished) and had his hair combed back. He entered the Casino and headed toward the baccarat table. An Irish Setter sitting at the far end of the table was winning, and she looked like she had nothing to lose. The dealer saw both their cards and announced, ''Sept a la banque. Madame wins.''

A large sum of chips were pushed towards the Setter, and she leaned toward the other gentlemen she was playing against. He nodded casually and stood up. The dealer looked around for a challenger, but everyone refused; until 009 sat down.

''Banko.'' He said, and the dealer threw out some cards. The Setter lit a cigar and blew the smoke in the faces of a few spectators. Brent got his cards and and examined them. He placed the cards back down and looked at his opponent.

''It appears we share the same passions…well, three anyway.'' He noted. The Setter smiled and gave a small laugh.

''I count two,'' she said, ''motoring and…uhh…baccarat.''

She then placed down her hand; an eight and a king.

''Huit a la banque. Madame wins.'' The dealer announced. Brent turned over his cards. A seven and a jack. He had lost the hand.

''I hope the third is where your real talent lies.'' The Setter said slyly. 009 chuckled.

''One rises to meet any challenge,'' he answered. The Setter leaned over to the dealer and said, ''doubler.''

The dealer looked at 009, who nodded and added ''suivi.''

Two cards were passed to each player. Brent examined his cards and took a chance.

''Carte.'' He requested. The Setter grabbed the top card of the deck and pushed it towards her opponent, flipping it over; the six of clubs. She then shakes her head.

''Madame stands at five.'' The dealer replied. Brent smiled and flipped over his cards. A king and a queen.

''Six, Madame loses.''

''Dammit,'' The Setter remarked and stood up, ''enjoy it, while it lasts.''

''The very words I live by.'' Brent answered and followed her to the bar table, accepting a cheque for his winnings as he went. Brent leaned against the table and asked, ''and what words do you live by?''

The Setter turned and smiled.

''The trick is to quit while you're ahead.'' She retorted. Brent signalled for a waiter and answered, ''I haven't learned that trick. Maybe you can instruct me.''

The waiter, a Dachshund in a red jacket walked up and waited for an order. Brent looked at the Dachshund and replied, ''vodka martini, shaken not stirred. And you?''

The Setter smiled.

''The same.'' She said.

''How d'you take it?'' 009 questioned. The Setter twirled her cigar and remarked, ''straight up with a twist.''

The waiter brought the two their drinks and Brent paid for it.

''Thank you mister…'' The Setter began.

''The name's MacWolf, Brent MacWolf.'' Brent answered.

''Sasha La Fleur.'' The Setter introduced herself.

''La Fleur?'' he asked.

''La Fleur.'' Sasha repeated. Brent could tell her accent.

''Your accent…Georgian?''

''Oh very good Mr. MacWolf,'' Sasha replied, ''you've been to Russia?''

Brent shook his head.

''Not recently,'' he said as he downed the rest of his martini, ''I used to drop in occasionally. Shoot in and out.''

''It's very different now,'' Sasha noted, ''a land of opportunity.''

''With a new Ferrari in every garage?'' 009 pointed to Sasha's red F-40.

''No, that belongs to a friend.'' Sasha answered.

''Then let me give your friend a bit of advice,'' Brent advised, ''the license plates for this year's models all begin with the letter L, even the counterfeit ones.''

Sasha was startled at 009's knowledge of license plates of all things.

''Oh, and what rank do you hold in the motor vehicles department, Mr. MacWolf?'' she asked.

''Commander.'' 009 was cut short when he caught sight of a burly figure approaching Sasha. He was a German Shepherd like 009, but he had on the attire of the Canadian Navy, and wore the colours of an admiral.

''Should we go?'' he questioned rudely. Sasha took his hand and replied, ''this one's an admiral.''

Brent smiled.

''I love a woman who enjoys pulling rank.'' He said.

''Nice to meet you Mr. Bond.'' Sasha answered as the two headed off. 009 didn't like Sasha one bit. She seemed to cat-like to not be considered dangerous.

''The pleasure, I'm sure, is all mine.'' He thought and exited the casino.

009 stopped his DB5 on a small parking spot overlooking the entrance to the docks. Pulling out a pair of binoculars, he watched as a red Ferrari F-40 pulled up to the docks. Two figures stepped out. Sasha and the admiral. Brent zoomed in and pressed a small button on the top. It snapped a digital picture that was sent directly to M-I6. 009 snapped a shot of Sasha and of the name on the shuttle boat; Manticore. Once the boat was away, 009 started to get into his car. But halfway in, he stopped. In the distance sat a French battleship in pier. A dark silhouette of a helicopter sat on its decks.

''The Tigre,'' Brent gasped, ''but it was only supposed to be a prototype. The French had made it to protect themselves during the Cold War, but they said they scrapped the idea.''

009 got into the DB5 and set the radio channel to 88.1 FM. After a few seconds, the voice of Aleu came over the speakers and a small printout of information appeared above the radio.

''Begin transmission from Aleu,'' Aleu said in a professional voice, ''identification confirmed.Le Fleur, Sasha; ex-Soviet fighter pilot. Current suspected links with the Janus Crime syndicate; St. Petersburg. The yacht Manticore is leased to a known Janus corporate front. Jenna authorises you to observe Miss Onatopp, but stimulated no…contact…without prior approval,'' Brent smiled and shook his head, ''end transmission Aleu. Goodnight Brent, I trust you'll stay Onatopp of things.''

The next day,

A motorboat from the yacht Manticore speed across the harbour toward the battleship. A deckhand swabbed the wooden decks, unaware of 009 climbing over the railing and into the main cabin. Brent looked around and suddenly saw a reflection in a bronze fixture. A dog was running at him with a mop. 009 grabbed a towel and whirled around, catching the mop and throwing it out of the deckhand's paws. He struggled, but Brent wrapped the towel around his head and threw him down the stairs and into the engine room. 009 looked down and dabbed his forehead with the towel. Walking into the bedroom, he slept perfume and such. Opening the closet, he heard the clothes moving. A body fell out onto the floor, its eyes turned up into its head and all its ribs crushed like powder. It was the admiral Sasha had been with at the casino. Something was not right. He had seen the admiral with Sasha heading toward La Fayette, that same admiral that lay dead at his feet.

''Oh shit!'' Brent exclaimed and jumped onto his own boat. Turning the engine on, Brent piloted the little vessel toward the battleship.

The French battleship La Fayette,

The French military was doing a demonstration of their latest helicopter, and you can bet that Janus was going to be there, or at least one of his contacts. As the announcer was explaining the many functions of the Tigre, the two pilots were heading from their quarters toward the flight deck. Suddenly, a sly whistle attracted their attention. Sasha walked out of the shadows and smiled. She had on a very scandalise top and tight leather pants.

''Shh,'' she said softly, ''I have a small surprise from your friends back in the barracks.''

One of the pilots leaned over to the other.

''I think I've gone to heaven.'' He replied. Sasha pulled out a gun.

''Not yet.'' She cooed as she shot both pilots. A male figure stepped out into the light and grabbed flight attire from the one dead pilot, and Sasha grabbed the other pilot's clothes. Fully dressed in French flight gear, the two proceeded outside onto the deck. The announcer pointed his hand in their direction.

''And now here are the pilots! Lt. Commander Bernard Jober and Lt. Francois Bruse!''

Unaware of the two, 009 was heading toward the helicopter. He ran across the deck and shoved a guard out of the way. He was almost at the helicopter when a hefty French soldier pinned him against the wall. The Tigre lifted off the ground and disappeared into the distance.

''Perfect,'' Brent thought, ''just fucking perfect.''

Severnaya Space Station, Siberia, Russia,

Siberia, a barren and lifeless plateau of snow and ice. Around the old Severnaya complex, all was quiet. A sled team rushed by, the Eskimo on the sled not paying attention to his surroundings. The dogs saw a large rock and swerved to avoid it. They did, but the sled was slammed full force into the large slab of granite. The Eskimo was thrown hard against the rock, breaking almost every rib he had. He tried to stand up, using every bit of energy he could muster. The action killed him; he crumpled under his own weight and fell onto the snow. Under the very spot where he had died, a beautiful female collie was typing away on a computer.

''Select Mir, autographic projection,'' she commanded the computer, ''compute possible intercept with second-stage geo-set two.''

There was a small pause, and a picture of a fellow female co-worker in a bikini popped up, along with a small cartoon of her friend. Under the picture was a word: PASSWORD. The collie smiled and looked over at the obvious programmer. He was a golden husky, with a black shirt and rough jeans. He was tapping a pen against his cheek. The collie turned and replied, ''Anna.''

Anna, a female Cocker Spaniel, looked at her friend's screen.

''He wouldn't know a woman if one came up and sat on his head.'' She replied sarcastically.

The collie laughed. This collie, Ginger Clayton, was by far the most beautiful person at the Severnaya facility. Although she was only a Level 2 programmer, she was quite good at her trade. Ginger looked at the golden husky and replied, ''Kaltag.''

Kaltag hadn't heard her.

''Kaltag!'' Ginger yelled. Kaltag dropped his pen in fright.

''What?'' he asked irritably. Ginger moved her head in the direction of the screen. Kaltag leaned over and smiled.

''I thought I'd post it on the Internet,'' he replied, ''no?''

''What's the password?'' Ginger asked. Kaltag wheeled his chair over beside Ginger and answered, ''I made it easy this time. Even you should be able to crack it, borscht for brains.''

Ginger gave him the look. Kaltag sighed.

''All right, all right, I'll give you a hint,'' he said reluctantly, ''they're right in front of you and can open very large doors.''

Ginger shook her head and typed in the password; K-N-O-C-K-E-R-S.

''You're such a geek.'' She replied. Just then, a faint alarm caught Kaltag's attention.

''Yes, I'm in!'' he smiled and wheeled back over to his computer.

''Yes,'' he whispered, ''I'm in!''

Ginger walked over to Kaltag's terminal and looked at his screen. On it was a jumble of letters and numbers as Kaltag's fingers raced along the keyboard. The target was the Federal Bureau of Investigation headquarters.

''You've hacked into the U.S. Department of Justice,'' Ginger gasped, ''do you realise what will happen if they trace it here?''

Kaltag smiled with confidence. He knew, and he could care less.

''The chief of computers will call me a genius, move me to Moskow and give me a million bucks hard currency,'' he then shook his head, ''I think not. Besides the Americans are slugheads. They'll never detect me.''

Just as Kaltag finished, a message appeared on his screen. UNAUTHORIZED ENTRY DETECTED. Ginger chuckled.

''You were saying slughead?'' she teased. Kaltag wasn't in the mood.

''Nobody screws with Kaltag Edwards,'' he replied and typed in a command, ''I'll spike them!''

Ginger didn't know what a spike was, but if Kaltag was angered, he'd do things he'd regret later on.

''Come on Kaltag,'' she pleaded, ''just hang up.''

Kaltag smiled.

''No way,'' he answered cockily, ''spike them.''

A screen then popped up, asking for a password. Kaltag and Ginger looked at each other.

''Okay, what's the password?'' Ginger asked. Kaltag rested his face on his paw.

''I'm not even going to tell you.'' He said sharply. Ginger crouched down and replied, ''okay, let me guess. It's not in front of me?''

Kaltag shook his head.

''Nope,'' he taunted, ''you sit on it, but you can't take it with you.''

He then smiled at Ginger's bewildered face. Kaltag typed in the five characters of the password and watched as a world map appeared. A red line ran from Severnaya, on to Moskow, then Paris, London, Toronto, Atlanta, then to Washington.

''See, my program seizes the phone line of whoever is tracing me and jams their modem so they can't hang up. The hunted becomes the hunter.'' Kaltag finished as an FBI screen appeared. Kaltag decided to be funny. Cracking his knuckles, he typed a little message for the FBI bureau.

Better luck next time, slugheads!

Kaltag then slammed the Enter key down and sprang up.

''I am invincible!'' he yelled, causing the entire facility to glance over at him. Lowering his arms, he leaned over to Ginger and questioned, ''was it good for you too?''

Ginger gave Kaltag a small slug on the shoulder.

''I'm going for a coffee.'' She said and headed toward the kitchen. Kaltag smiled.

''And I'm going for a cigarette.''

The large metal door that lead to the underground facility slid open and Kaltag walked out into the bitter cold. He was clad in a brown parka, and yet he shivered like a maniac. Taking a small cigarette out of his pocket, he grabbed his lighter and flicked on the flame. Suddenly, the flame blew out, and Kaltag heard a whirling noise. He looked up and saw the Tigre touching down on the helipad just outside the facility. Kaltag made a quick disappearing act as Sasha and Steele walked out of the helicopter; Sasha in the uniform of a colonel, Steele in the attire of a general. Both walked down the long hallway and stopped at a bullet-proof door that led to the main area. Steele walked up to a small box and said his name is an unemotional and professional tone.

''General Steele Simpson Doberson, head of space division.''

The door slid open and both Steele and Sasha walked into the computer control room. A major walked up and saluted Steele, replying, ''General, if I had known you were coming…''

Steele put up his hand.

''You would have been ready,'' he finished, ''this is an unscheduled test of the Severnaya facility Major. War simulation. We're going to test fire…Goldeneye. Report status.''

''Two operational satellites sir; Petia and Misha, both in 90 minutes Earth orbit at 100 km.'' the Major answered. Steele smiled a cold smile.

''Good, here are the authorization codes,'' Steele handed the Major a small metal card, ''could you enter today's access code for satellite Petia please.''

Steele then brought his arm up methodically and added, ''I'm timing you.''

The Major saluted again and headed to a small keypad. He inserted the metal card into a slot and placed his hand on a scanner. After it had authorized the Major, another card was revealed. He slid that card into a swipe port and a giant eye opened up, bringing light to two golden keys and a square disk. As the Major grabbed the keys and disk, Ginger watched. She had never heard of this "Goldeneye" before, but she didn't like it.

The Major handed Steele the keys and disk and saluted. Steele checked his watch.

''Good,'' he replied, ''thank you Major.''

Just then, Sasha pulled out an AK-47 and shot a burst at the guard, who was thrown backward from the bullets. Ginger stood in fear, paralyzed. Sasha hosed down everything; computers, workers, soldiers, whatever got in the way. When she finished, the main computing area was in ruin. The only remaining computer was the one used to control the Goldeneye.

Sasha smiled with sinister pleasure. Steele seemed unaware of the death of his fellow comrades. He slipped the disk into the slot and watched as a small laser bean shot from the eye behind them and turned the satellite control screen into a digital world map, with the former USSR outlined in red and the United States in blue. A small blip appeared on the map; SEVERNAYA. Steele turned to his sidekick.

''Set the target,'' he ordered, ''Severnaya.''

Sasha typed in the target location. A wavy line moved and landed directly on the blip.

''Arm the weapon.'' Steele barked. Sasha obeyed and typed in the authorization code for Petia. A small red button started blinking. Steele pressed it.

High above the Earth's atmosphere, a large cylinder-shaped object was in orbit, tumbling lazily. But after Steele pressed the red button on the surface, the cylinder broke apart, revealing satellite Petia, a white and deadly object with the decal CCCP on the side. It was still, however, useless until its main systems were active.

Back in the facility, Steele had given Sasha a key and placed his own into its respective slot. Sasha did the same.

''On my mark,'' Steele replied, ''3…2…1…now!''

The two turned their keys in unison. Now Petia was fully armed and ready. Steele was just about to laugh, when he heard something. Ginger had dropped her coffee cup, and it sounded almost like an exploding hand grenade in the eerie silence.

''Check it.'' Steele ordered. Sasha armed her AK and headed toward the kitchens. Ginger saw her coming and grabbed a chair. She tried her hardest to pry the vent grade off, but it was to no avail. Sasha stormed in and saw…nobody. On the ground was a pool of coffee, and a chair, and above the chair was a half-removed grade. Sasha smiled and aimed her AK at the grade, destroying it and whatever else was up there. No one hiding would have survived. She headed back to Steele, who had placed the disk and keys in a briefcase.

''It's clean,'' she reported, ''I had to ventilate someone.''

The two were about to leave, when a previously-thought dead Major pressed the alarm button. A high-pitched shrill went off, Sasha turned and shot the man dead. But Steele was not worried.

''The Russian Army's best response time is 17 minutes,'' he explained, ''they'll be late.''

Sasha nodded and followed Steele out into the cold and into the Tigre.

At the airbase in Moscow, three pilots ran to their Migs. Little did they know that this alarm would be their last.

London, England, that very moment,

Brent MacWolf opened the door to Aleu's office. She sat at her desk, dressed in a black gown with crystals here and there.

''You look lovely tonight Aleu.'' Brent replied. Aleu smiled.

''Thank you Brent,'' she answered, ''Jenna will meet you in the conference room, I'm to take you there.''

''One some kind of new mission,'' 009 pointed to Aleu's gown, ''dressing to kill?''

Aleu gave him a smug look.

''I know you'll find this crushing 009, but I don't always lay awake waiting for some international incident, only to dress up just to impress Brent MacWolf, ''she explained, ''if you must know I was on a date tonight. A gentlemen took me to the theatre.''

''Aleu, I'm devastated,'' Brent answered sarcastically and watched as the air-tight door started to unlock, ''what would I do without you?''

''As far as I can remember Brent, you haven't had me.'' Aleu replied shortly. The door opened fully, revealing the conference room; a dark and medium-sized area with computers every five inches, and a large monitor at the back.

''After you Aleu.'' Brent gestured. But Aleu stood firm.

''No I insist, you first.'' She said. Brent shrugged and walked in. A red and peach husky speedily walked up to the two.

''Hello Brent.'' He greeted. 009 shook the husky's paw warmly.

''Kodi,'' he asked, ''what've you got?''

Kodi walked over to a monitor and replied, ''Sixteen minutes ago, we intercepted an alarm signal from the supposedly abandoned radar station at Severnaya,'' he zoomed into a satellite photo, ''look what the satellites have picked up.''

The screen zoomed in closer and closer until they stopped on an aerial image of…

''Your missing Tigre,'' Kodi added.

''In the middle of northern Russia huh?'' Brent noted. Kodi nodded in agreement.

''Looks like you were right 009,'' he answered, ''too bad the Evil Queen of Numbers would let you play it.''

The room went silent. Kodi felt one set of eyes on him. He turned slowly and came face to face with Jenna. She was also a red husky, clad in a cream business suit and black women's shoes. She folded her arms and gave Kodi the fish-eye.

''You were saying?'' she asked. Kodi hesitated.

''Yes, well…I was just ummm…Just ummm…''

''Good,'' Jenna cut in, ''because if I want sarcasm Mr. Aniu, I'll talk with my children thank you.''

''But Jenna, I am your son.'' Kodi noted. Jenna locked her stare into his eyes.

''Fine, fine sorry!'' Kodi said and turned away. Jenna then smiled at 009.

''Good evening Brent.'' She said. Brent gave a small bow and addressed his boss.

''Good evening Jenna.'' Was his response. Jenna then became serious.

''The Prime Minister is waiting for an update,'' she motioned at Kodi, ''you may continue Mr. Aniu.''

Kodi stood up and brushed the dust off his fur.

''Thank you,'' He replied and continued his discussion, ''as I was saying, after the alarm signal was triggered, the helicopter took off. The Russians sent these three Migs to intercept the call.''

Kodi pointed to three arrows heading toward the radar station.

''What do you think the Russians were using that base for?'' 009 questioned.

''Well at one point,'' Kodi explained, ''we suspected that Severnaya was the ground-station for a secret space-weapons system called Goldeneye, but…''

''Our statistical analysis showed that they had neither the technology nor the funding to implement it.'' Jenna finished.

''Numbers aren't exactly my strong suit,'' Brent admitted and pointed at the screen, ''are these pictures live?''

Kodi was about to answer, but Jenna did it for him.

''Unlike the American government, we prefer not to get our bad news from CNN.'' She remarked.

Back in Severnaya, a cabinet door squeaked, and Ginger crawled out into the kitchen area.

High above, the three Migs flew by. The leader, a burly Siberian husky shook his head.

''Negative,'' he said, ''everything seems normal.''

If only they knew.

Ginger walked out into the main computing area, and was shocked at was lay before her. The corpses of her former colleges and friends, full of bullet holes. Ginger was about to cry, when an alarm sounded. She looked at the screen at the front of the room and saw the blip that was Petia quickly heading toward its target; and she was standing in it. Ginger then noticed a timer, and it was at three seconds. She then pasted everything together, but before she could get out of there, Petia detonated. A silent shockwave swept over the land. For a few seconds, it was eerily silent. But that silence was shattered when the Severnaya dish started to spark.

Back in London, the screen in the conference room went blank. Kodi turned and asked, ''what the bloody hell was that?''

Brent stared at the screen.

''This can't be good.'' He said.

Inside the facility, Ginger was running for cover; any cover. She dove and landed under a metal staircase, just as the screen at the front was thrust out by an internal explosion. The monitors that hung from the ceiling had a similar effect. All around were fiery explosions, making the room glow bright orange. Ginger screamed, but her voice was drown out by the sheer sound of the complex.

The Migs were in worse trouble. Inside the lead plane, the pilot was experiencing errors with his flight computers. Without any warning whatsoever, the cockpit erupted into a blue surge, killing the pilot instantly. His plane made a sharp barrel roll and smashed into the Mig behind him. Both were lost in a fireball. The third plane careened upside down into the dish.

Ginger thought she was safe, but was startled as a pipe burst beside her. Ginger was up and running, but she tripped and fell. One of the monitor cradles that hung from the blackened ceiling dislodged and came plummeting toward her. Ginger screamed, but was surprised when the cradle stopped just inches from crushing her. She got up and held her chest. Her heart was going a mile a minute. Grabbing a white blanket, Ginger covered the body of her friend Anna and shed a small tear. She walked sadly over to the doors that led to the outside world and replied, ''Ginger Melissa Clayton.''

The doors hardly shuddered, let alone opened. Ginger grabbed the door and shook it violently, yelling her name.

''GINGER MELISSA CLAYTON!''

Creak!

Ginger looked up and heard it again.

Creak!

Ginger ignored the creaking and headed toward her room to grab her stuff. Suddenly, the framing of the dish crashed through the roof, exposing a way out. Ginger took a deep breath and started to climb.

Reaching the top, Ginger jumped onto the ground and lay there, exhausted. She only had enough strength to stand up and shuffle through the snow, yelling ''Kaltag!''

London, that very second,

Kodi hung up the phone and replied, ''our satellite has been knocked out, and so have two of the Americans'. We should have a third coming into range now.''

The satellite image showed a charred and barren land.

''Good God!'' Kodi spluttered.

''Two of the Migs are down.'' 009 added. Jenna pointed at what used to be the satellite dish.

''And it looks like the third went into the dish,'' she noted and turned to 009, ''what do you think?''

Brent studied the image. Only one explanation came to mind.

''No lights,'' he stated, ''but maybe one single light within a 50 mile radius.''

009 turned to Kodi.

''EMP?'' he asked. Kodi nodded.

''It could account for the Migs and the dish...'' he started. Brent tapped Kodi's shoulder.

''And the satellite.'' He interrupted.

''Electro-Magnetic Pulse,'' Kodi concluded, ''a first strike weapon used by…''

''The Americans and Soviets during the Cold War,'' Jenna cut in, ''I read the brief. Discovered after the atomic bomb drop at Hiroshima. A nuclear device is detonated over the atmosphere, it created a pulse; a radiation surge that destroys anything with an electronic circuit.''

''The idea being to knock out communications before he, she or they have a chance to retaliate.'' Brent said, summing up Jenna's worst fears.

''So, Goldeneye exists?'' Jenna questioned.

''Yes.'' 009 answered.

''Could this be an accident?'' Jenna was going for a different angle, however, that angle was too steep.

''No,'' Brent replied, ''the helicopter. If you wanted to steal the Goldeneye, it would be the perfect weapon. It's unaffected by EMPs, so you can do what you want and use the Goldeneye to wipe out the evidence.''

''The Janus group?'' Jenna speculated. Brent shrugged.

''They could be involved with a helicopter, but I know the Russian fail-safe measures. You just don't walk in and ask for the keys to the bomb, you need the access codes,'' 009 then noticed something on the screen, ''there has to be an insider.''

009 zoomed in on a small figure shuffling through the snow, Its body heat was slowly fading away.

''And at least there's one person who knows who it is.''

Ginger stumbled onto the cold ground. She stood up and gasped. It would take hours to get to the next town, and she wasn't going to make it. Just then, Ginger heard something in the distance. Yelping. She stood up and ran toward the sound, and to her glorious discovery, a dog team sat in the snow, looking around in bewilderment.

M-I6 Headquarters, Jenna's office,

Jenna put down the phone as 009 walked in. Jenna motioned for her star agent to sit in one of her Italian leather chair, which he did so. Jenna got right down to business.

''The Prime Minister has spoken with Moscow. They told him it was an accident during a routine training exercise.'' She explained. Brent was not satisfied.

''Governments change,'' he replied gruffly, ''but the lies stay the same.''

Jenna sighed and changed the topic.

''What do we know about the Janus syndicate?'' she asked. 009 shrugged.

''Top-flight arms dealers headquartered in St. Petersburg. Their first act was to supply the Iraqis during the Gulf War. The head is unreliably described; no photographs. The woman,'' he paused and gave a small shake of his head, ''La-Fleur, is our only contact.''

''Do you want a drink?'' Jenna asked in mid-sentence. Brent was surprised and answered, ''uhh…thanks. Your predecessor kept some cognac in the left cupboard…''

''I prefer bourbon,'' Jenna cut in, ''ice?''

Brent shook his head.

''Jenna, you shouldn't ruin a perfectly good drink with ice. Nasty habit.'' 009 noted. Jenna placed the drink on the table before him and sat down.

''I have a few.'' She said and got back to business, ''I pulled information on anyone who has access or authority at Severnaya. The dog on the top of the list is an old friend of yours I understand.''

Jenna pressed a small button on her desk. A panel behind her head slid up, revealing a screen with the grimace of a past foe. 009 took a sip of his bourbon and replied calmly, ''Steele. So they made him a general eh?''

Jenna nodded.

''He sees himself as the next "I" man of Russia,'' she explained, ''that's probably why our political analysts say he doesn't fit the profile of a traitor.''

009's face mirrored his annoyance.

''Are these the same analysts that said the Goldeneye couldn't exist, that the helicopter posed to immediate threat and wasn't worth following?'' he remarked.

Jenna crossed her arms.

''You don't like me Brent, you don't like my methods,'' she replied sternly, ''you think I'm a bean counter more interesting in my members than your instincts.''

''The thought had occurred to me.'' Brent answered sarcastically. Jenna wasn't amused.

''Well, I think you're a sexist misogynist dinosaur. A relic of the Cold War, whose boyish charmed, though wasted on me, obviously appeal to that young lady I sent to evaluate you.''

Brent sipped a bit of his Cognac.

''Point taken.'' He said.

''Not quite 009.'' Jenna peeped up, catching Brent's attention off guard. Jenna was notorious for doing that. She leaned back in her chair, head rested on her paws.

''If you think I don't have the balls to send a man out to die, your instincts are dead wrong,'' Jenna retorted, ''I have no intention of sending you to your death, but I won't do it on a whim. Even with your cavalier attitude toward the value of your own life.''

Brent groaned as his boss leaned on her desk.

''I want you to find Goldeneye, find out who took it, what they plan to do with it and stop it,'' Jenna stuck out a finger, ''and if you should run into Steele, guilty or not, I don't want you to go out on some vendetta. Avenging Charlie Barkin won't bring him back.''

009 placed the glass that previously held his Cognac roughly on the desk.

''You didn't get him killed.'' He said in a deep voice.

''Neither did you,'' Jenna answered, ''don't make it personal.''

Brent stood up and sighed, nodding in agreement.

''Never.'' He mumbled. Before he left, 009 was stopped by Jenna's voice.

''Brent,'' 009 turned to see his boss's smiling face, ''come back alive.''

009 smiled back and left the room.

St. Petersburg, the next morning,

A band played outside the Winter Palace, residence of the tsar of Russia until 1918. Watching the band from inside was a grey schnauzer with white paws. This dog, Defence Minister Tramp Mishkin, was the head of defence for the entire country. A noise alerted Tramp and he turned to see General Steele Doverson walking into the meeting room.

Tramp sat down in his chair and replied, ''Good morning, General Steele.''

Steele was very professional in his greeting.

''Defence Minister Mishkin,'' he nodded at the council, ''gentlemen.''

''Please,'' Tramp encouraged, ''deliver your report.''

Steele cleared his throat and answered, ''as most of you are aware, 72 hours ago, a secret weapon program codenamed Goldeneye was detonated over the Severnaya facility. As head of the Space Division, I personally undertook the investigation. I have concluded that the crime was committed by Siberian separatists , seeking to create political unrest,'' Steele took off his general's hat, ''incredibly the peaceful work and much needed earning of Severnaya have been set back for several years. Therefore, I tender my resignation.''

The council gave a short "Niet". Tramp answered for all of them.

''The council does not want your head Steele Doverson, merely your loyal assurance that there aren't any more satellites.'' he said. Steele shook his head.

''I can't give you that assurance Defence Minister.'' He lied. Tramp then threw a curveball.

''And what of the two missing Severnaya technicians?'' he questioned. Steele's face went pale. Two? Where did two come from?

''I was aware of the one, Kaltag Edwards.'' Steele replied. Tramp held up a picture of a female collie.

''There was a girl also whose body was not among the dead, Ginger Melissa Clayton, a Level Two programmer.'' He explained. Steele placed his hat back on.

''I will investigate immediately Defence Minister.'' Steele answered shortly. Tramp was not done.

''It would seem presumptuous, General, to blame this incident on Siberian separatists before the whereabouts of your fellow countrymen are determined,'' the entire councils locked stares at Steele, ''do you agree?''

Steele hesitated.

''Yes Defence Minister,'' Steele agreed between clutched teeth, ''thank you for bringing it to my attention.''

Tramp waved Steele out.

''That will be all.'' He said as he watched Steele storm out.

M-I6 HQ, S Branch,

009 walked into S Branch, the gadget department from M-I6. Led by Star, a lavender and thin malamute with a wicked complex for creating things. Today, Star wheeled up to Brent in a motorized wheelchair. His left hind paw was wrapped in a cast. 009 tapped the cast.

''Hey S, sorry about the leg. Skiing?'' he asked. Star pressed a button on the wheelchair and a rocket shot from the cast and exploded in the back testing area.

''Hunting.'' Star answered and stood up on a perfectly unharmed set of hind paws.

''Right, now pay attention 009. First your new car, Dodge Viper. Agile five-forward gears, all points radar. Self-destruct system and naturally all the usual refinements, and this,'' Star pointed to the headlights, ''I'm particularly proud of. Behind the headlights, stinger missiles!''

Brent gave a small whistle of astonishment.

''Excellent,'' Brent answered, ''just the thing to unwind after a rough day at the office.''

Star slapped his forehead.

''Need I remind you 009, that you have a license to kill-not to break the traffic laws.'' He remarked. Brent nodded.

''I wouldn't think of it.'' He said.

''Good,'' Star replied, ''right, now let's get on with the more practical methods.''

Star walked over to a metallic table. On it sat a pen and a belt. Star picked up the belt first.

''A typical leather belt. Male size 32, buckle, notch…''

009 was typing away on a laptop. Star crossed his arms.

''Are you about finished?'' he questioned in an annoyed tone. Brent closed the laptop.

''Yup.''

''Good,'' Star spluttered, ''now where was I? Ahh yes. A typical leather belt…'' Star was cut off by 009.

''Star, I'm very familiar with that device.'' He explained.

''NOT one with a 75-foot repelling cord built into the buckle. Fire, and out shoots a piton, followed by a high tensile cord designed to support your weight.'' Star finished. Brent thought for a second and asked, ''and if I need extra support?''

Star laughed.

''I suggest you prey,'' he said, ''the cord is designed for one, that's it.'' Star added as his picked up an envelope and handed it to 009.

''Flight 878 to St. Petersburg.'' Star explained, much to Brent's bewilderment.

''How in the he…?''

Star tapped on the silver platter.

''X-Ray document scanner,'' he noted proudly and held up the pen that was on the table, ''a pen. This is a Class 4 grenade. Three clicks arms the four-second fuse, another three disarms it.''

009 took the pen and clicked it three times.

''How long did you say the fuse was armed for?'' he asked sarcastically. Star grabbed the pen and disarmed it.

''Oh grow up 009!'' he spluttered. Brent shrugged.

''They offer said the pen's mightier than the sword.'' He noted. Star nodded.

''Thanks to me, they were right,'' he then placed the pen in the pocket of a test dummy, ''here's let's ask Freddy here.''

Star armed the pen.

''Sorry about this Fred; 1…2…3…''

Star ran behind the wall and covered his ears. The dummy disappeared in a mass of fire and stuffing. Star uncovered his ears and replied, ''don't say it!''

''The writing's on the wall?'' Brent asked. Star chuckled and patted 009 on the shoulder.

''Along with the rest of him.'' He answered. Star then gets serious.

''Now 009, do please try and…'' Star is interrupted by one of his gadget testers as they are thrown into the air by an ejector seat. While he is distracted, 009 picked up a submarine sandwich and inspected it for any sort of weapon. Star turned around and begins his sentence again.

''Do please try and bring these gadgets back in pristine order,'' Star then notices the sub, ''don't touch that!''

Star snatched the sub from Brent's paws.

''That's my lunch.''

St. Petersburg, the same day,

009 walked through the doors of the airport in St. Petersburg. He held a suitcase in one hand and a gardening magazine in the other. Brent looked from left to right and finally rested his eyes on a grey wolf in a parka and thick toque, reading the same gardening magazine.

''That must be my contact.'' He thought and walked over to the wolf. Leaning against his car, 009 spoke the contact phrase, ''in London, April's a spring month.''

The wolf gave a small snort.

''Oh yeah, what are you? The weatherman,'' he then noticed who had said the line, ''ahh fer' crying out loud! Another stiff as Brit. Your secret codes and your passwords. One day you'll learn just to drop it! Come on, my car's this way.'' He motioned toward the car the two were leaning on. The car was a rusted and dented Moskavitch subcompact. 009 opened the driver's side door.

''After you.'' He replied. The wolf smiled.

''Thank you.'' He said and started to get in, when Brent pulled his Desert Eagle of the wolf and pinned him against the car.

''Like you said, drop it.'' Brent growled. The wolf sighed.

''Okay, in London April's a spring month, while in St. Petersburg we're freezing our asses off,'' he said, ''is that close enough for government regulation?''

''No,'' 009 shoved the gun into the wolf's chest, ''should me the rose.''

The wolf's face went pale.

''Oh god no.'' he gasped. The response to this refusal was a click of the empty mag.

''All right, all right, all right!'' the wolf exclaimed and looked left and right. Grabbing his belt, the wolf pulled down a portion of his pants and revealed a tattoo on his left cheek. Brent examined the tattoo and saw one word under it; SEENA.

''Seena?'' he questioned. The wolf pulled his pants up and answered, ''girlfriend. Sammy Rehonic, CIA.''

Sammy shook Brent's paw warmly.

''Brent MacWolf, stiff-assed Brit.'' 009 remarked. Sammy shook his head.

''Call me Rail Wolf. That was a nice move by the way.'' Rail Wolf replied. Brent smiled and patted the car.

''Nice car.'' He said. Rail Wolf got into the driver's seat and retorted, ''yeah, it's like a little bitch, but it gets you there.''

009 sat in the passenger seat and heard Rail Wolf ask, ''hey Brent, you done any gardening?''

Ginger, meanwhile, was just getting off the train she had taken to get away from the ruins of the Severnaya facility. She turned around and saw two soldiers, who were not paying attention. Ginger took this opportunity to leave.

Back with Brent and Rail Wolf, the Moscavitch had stalled and was smoking in the square. Rail Wolf got out and grabbed a toolbox from the back seat. Brent followed and helped his new friend out with the repairs. Rail Wolf held up his paw.

''Can you pass me a wrench Brent?'' he requested. 009 slapped a wrench into his paw, asking, ''what do you know about Janus?''

Rail Wolf tightened a bolt into the engine compartment and shrugged.

''Zilch,'' he answered, ''no one's ever seen him, but he had connections with the gazoo, KGB, military…screwdriver.''

Brent stood with a questioning look, but understood and slapped a screwdriver into his friend's awaiting paw.

''Rumour has it,'' Rail Wolf started up again, ''he rides around the country on one of those old Soviet missile trains. The armoured stuff they used to run across the country so we couldn't target them.''

Rail Wolf then stood up.

''Could you hand me the hammer man?'' he questioned. Brent grabbed a hammer, but Rail Wolf shook his head.

''No, the bigger one. The sledge.'' He pointed to an iron-headed sledge hammer that lay in the back seat. Brent nodded and gave Rail Wolf the sledge.

''Truth be told, you can't find this guy, he finds you,'' he wound up the sledge, ''but I can point you to his closest competition.''

With a grunt of effort, Rail Wolf nailed the engine block with the sledgehammer, instantly bringing it back to life. 009 chuckled and asked, ''who is his closest competition?''

Rail Wolf thought for a second, and replied, ''an ex-KGB guy, real mother. Has a limp in his right leg. Name of Giovanni.''

009 blinked.

''Nikki Leonardo Giovanni?'' he said. Rail Wolf was astonished.

''Yeah, how'd you know?'' he asked. Brent smirked.

''I gave him the limp.'' He remarked.

Ginger had managed to get away from the soldiers and was now entering an IBM store. The manager, a tall male American Eskimo addressed his customer.

''Yes, can I help you?'' he asked. Ginger looked around and replied, ''are these all you have?''

The manager smirked.

''How many do you want?'' he questioned. Ginger revealed an official-looking document and read, ''24 for the American school, 11 for the Swedish, IBM compatible with 500 MHz drives and 34 modems.''

The manager was stunned.

''You pay in cash?'' he said. Ginger nodded.

''Of course.''

The manager motioned toward a room.

''If madam would require a demonstration model, I would…''

Ginger put up her paw.

''Madam requires one demonstration model and a quiet place to test it.'' She said. The managed escorted her to a storage closet where one computer sat. The second the manager was gone, Ginger was online and talking to a friend.

A secret facility across the globe, that very second

Kaltag Edwards sat in an orange Hawaiian shirt and black pants. He typed away carelessly on his keyboard until a message came in. He read the text and smiled.

''Ginger.'' He said and started typing a message.

Ginger watched as the message from Kaltag panned on screen.

Thought you were dead.

Ginger nearly cried as she answered back;

Steele killed everyone, fired Petia and stole Goldeneye

Suddenly, the manager stepped in.

''Is everything satisfactory?'' he asked.

''Everything except interruption.'' Ginger retorted. The manager closed the door. Ginger turned back to the screen and saw Kaltag's return message.

You are not safe, trust no one. Meet me at Our Lady of Smolensk in one hour.

Ginger smiled. She was going to be rid of the entire Goldeneye scandal once and for all. She left the store before the manager saw her.

Rail Wolf drove the Moscavitch across a bridge toward the Mafia District. Brent hadn't been around this area, but he had a funny feeling about it. Rail Wolf then asked him, ''so lemme get this straight 009. You shot his leg, you stole his car, you took his girl…and now you want Nikki Giovanni to help you out?''

009 shook his head yes.

''Well, how're you going to persuade him? Appealing to his heart?'' Rail Wolf spluttered. Brent smiled.

''No, his wallet.'' He answered.

''Well, that might work.'' Rail Wolf replied and stopped the car. They sat in front of a large building. Rail Wolf pointed to the left.

''Nikki works out of Building #3. Are you sure you wanna do this,'' he questioned seriously, ''last guy who went in uninvited went home air-freight, in very small boxes.''

009 stepped out, loading his Desert Eagle.

''I guess I'll be sent home first-class then, eh?'' he said and snuck into the building. Rail Wolf sighed.

''I was wondering when he'd shut up.''

Ginger walked into Our Lady of Smolensk exactly one hour after receiving the message from Kaltag. The church was empty, aside from a sole canine in a black robe preying in the far corner. The church was covered with murals depicting Christ, the Virgin Mary, the Last Supper and Noah's Ark. Ginger was about to head toward the alter, when the doors behind her slammed shut. Ginger ran in fear, cutting around a corner and heading for the back door. But she was intercepted by an arm. Screaming, Ginger tried to break free, but a voice comforted her.

''Ginger,'' it exclaimed, ''it's Kaltag!''

Ginger relaxed and smiled. She turned and saw Sasha behind her. There was the slight feeling of a pin prick and then darkness.

Inside the club, Nikki Giovanni limped toward his private box. He scowled at his life.

''Another morning shut the hell,'' he remarked, ''the free market economy will be the end of me!''

Nikki turned a corner and felt the cold barrel of a gun on his neck. He smiled.

''Desert Eagle, 9.46 millimetre. Only three men I know use such a gun, and I believe I've killed two of them.'' He said. 009 stepped into the light.

''Lucky me.'' He retorted, but felt a barrel on his neck.

''I think not.'' Nikki answered. In the background, the lyrics of a song were starting up, and the female Springer Spaniel singing it wasn't the greatest singer on the planet. 009 was seated roughly into a chair, and was surrounded by two armed bodyguards. Nikki sat in a chair opposite 009, smiling as if he was just handed the world.

''Brent MacWolf,'' he replied, ''charming sophisticated secret agent. Shaken, but not stirred?''

He then laughed at his pathetic joke. 009 sighed.

''I see you haven't lost your delicate sense of humour Nikki, or your need for an audience,'' he then asked, ''whose strangling a cat?''

Nikki was confused.

''Strangling a cat?'' he questioned and then figured it out. 009 was referring to the singer on stage. Taking his enemy's Desert Eagle, he shot a bullet into the chair just inches from Brent's flesh.

''That is Irina, my mistress!'' he said angrily. 009 nodded.

''A very talented girl you have there Nikki.'' He replied. Nikki turned and yelled, ''Irina, take a hike!''

After a few Russian curses, the sound of high-heels went off into the distance. The club was now quiet.

''So Mr. MacWolf; what brings you to my neighbourhood,'' he questioned, ''do you still work for M-I6, or have you decided to join the 20th century?''

009 got right to business.

''I want you to do me a favour.'' He said. Nikki blinked and started to laugh. His henchmen added to the ruckus. Nikki then turned back to 009.

''My knee aches…every…single…day! Twice as bad when it is cold! Do you realize how cold it gets in Russia, hmm?'' he growled. 009 shook his head.

''Nikki, even an ex-KGB agent like yourself should know that the skill was not to hit your leg, but to miss the rest of you. Call it "professional courtesy.'' Brent explained.

Nikki shrugged.

''Then let me return the courtesy.'' Taking his gun, he fired three more shots; two in opposite sides of the chair and one right between 009's legs just inches from his groin. Brent knew this was a good enough time as any to make his statement.

''Kerov's Funeral Parlour, Four o'clock this afternoon!'' he blurted out. Nikki lowered the gun and handed it back to 009.

''I think we need to discuss this is private. Come to my office.'' He replied and, limping as badly as usual, escorted 009 to his private office.

The office was a simple décor. White walls, a wooden desk in the centre with a rotating chair, a coffee maker on top of an old grey filing cabinet, and various posters on the walls. Nikki sat in his rotating chair, while 009 sat in a regular one. Brent explained the information for Nikki.

''Two hundred pounds of C4 explosives in a casket. Your men drive the hearse in, the money's exchanged, their men drive the hearse out. Their men will be arrested with the explosives, your men will make a miraculous escape with the money…your money.''

Nikki poured a cup of vodka and asked, ''and what do I owe for this quote-unquote "accommodation?''

''I want you to set me up with Janus.'' Brent answered. Nikki gave his new "best friend" a look.

''And what has he done to deserve your attention Brent?'' he questioned.

''Stole a helicopter.''

''I have six.'' Nikki boasted. Brent shook his head.

''You have three, and none of them even fly.'' He corrected. Nikki took a swig of his vodka.

''Who's counting?'' he asked abruptly.

''Nikki, these men aren't just murders, they're traitors! They used the chopper to steal a nuclear weapon, and killed a lot of innocent Russians doing it.'' Brent explained. Nikki took another drink, only this time it was a gulp.

''What would you expect from a Cossack?'' he asked. 009 stared at Nikki.

''What?''

''This Janus, I've never met him, but I know he is a Lienz Cossack.'' Nikki clarified. Brent had heard of the Cossacks, but that lesson was a vague memory.

''The Cossack who fought against Hitler in World War II?'' he asked on a hunch. Nikki smiled and nodded.

''Very good 009, you know your history,'' he commended and explained the Cossack history, ''at the end of the war, the Lienz Cossacks surrendered to the British in Austria, believing they would join your government and wage war against the Communists. But the British betrayed them. Sent them back to Stalin who promptly had them all shot. Women, children, families. No one was given mercy.''

''Not our finest hour.'' Brent answered solemnly. Nikki poured another vodka.

''Still, ruthless people. They got what they deserved.''

Brent went right back to business.

''I want you to set me up with Janus. Tell him to meet me in the steam room of the Grand Hotel Europe tonight.'' He instructed.

''Then you and I are even and he owes me one.'' Nikki added. 009 smiled.

''Precisely.''

The pool room to the Grand Hotel Europe,

Brent burst through the surface of the pool as he swam. He felt good; haven't not had a chance to take a swim in over five months. This was a real treat, even though he was about to meet a murderer. 009 got out of the pool and grabbed a towel. As he dabbed his fur dry, he noticed that the steam was moving, as if someone had just ran through there. Grabbing his Desert Eagle, Brent walked into the steam room. He took a step to the left, but faked and grabbed someone's arm. Twisting it, Brent forced the individual into view, and he pointed his gun at the face of Sasha La-Fleur clad only in a white robe. She smiled at 009.

''You don't need the gun Commander.'' She cooed. Brent was not amused.

''That depends on your definition of safe sex.'' Sasha stood up and wrapped her paws around Brent's broad shoulders.

''That's close enough.'' 009 gasped, trying not to show his weakness.

''Not for what I have in mind.'' Sasha replied slyly and locked a kiss on his lips. Brent dropped his gun to the floor and everything was good until he felt a sharp pain in his lip. Sasha must be biting his lip. 009 thrust Sasha away and dapped his lips. It was bleeding slightly. 009 turned and gave Sasha an accidental chance to attack. Launching a crud kick at his back, Brent fell forward. Sasha flipped his around and locked her thighs around his chest, cutting off the air flow.

''Now Commander, I show you want I did to my admiral friend.'' She answered. 009 remember the broken body of the admiral on the Manticore. This must have been how he had died. 009 could feel his airways being forced closed, and his breaths were becoming more and more difficult. Using all his available strength, Brent stood up, with Sasha still attached to his thigh, and slammed his assailant into the wall. Behind him, Brent could hear the hefty footsteps of a large man. Swinging Sasha like a club, he took out the man, and flipped Sasha onto the ground, releasing her grip. 009 grabbed his pistol and replied, ''no more foreplay. Take me to Janus.''

Sasha growled and yelled, ''Damnit!''

Statue Park, thirty minutes later,

This plot of land, referred to by the locals as Statue Park, was were the monuments of the Soviet Union were dumped. Sasha stopped her car at the entrance. 009 sat in the back seat, pistol at Sasha's head.

''Is this it?'' he asked.

''Yes.'' Sasha said unenthusiastically. Brent leaned forward and remarked, ''well, I must say tonight was lovely. Would you agree?''

''Once again, the pleasure was all yours.'' Sasha answered.

''You'll understand if I don't call?'' 009 questioned. Sasha groaned.

''I won't lose sleep over it.'' She retorted. Brent started to get out, but gave Sasha a short chop on the back of the neck. Her jaw fell open and Sasha's head landed with a thump on the steering wheel.

''Sweet dreams.'' 009 said and stepped out into the park. The place was dark, and 009's eyes were playing tricks on him. Brent spun around and pulled his gun on someone…but it ended up being a statue of Lenin. Brent lowered his gun and walked into a clearing.

''Hello Brent.'' A voice replied. 009 pulled his gun on a shadowy figure that slowly walked toward him. The moonlight reflected off the face. Half was normal, the other half was a grotesque and mutilated figure, with skin graphs and scars.

009 was shocked at who the figure was.

''Charlie.'' He gasped. It was true; his old partner Charlie B. Barkin was alive, but there was something about him that seemed strange. Evil.

''Back from the dead, ''Charlie remarked, ''no longer just another anonymous star on the memorial wall at M-I6.''

Brent stood, still in shock. His Desert Eagle shook in his paw.

''What's the matter Brent? No glib remark? No pithy comeback?'' Charlie asked. All Brent could say was, ''why?''

Charlie laughed.

''Hilarious question. Particularly from you. Would you ever ask why,'' he replied, ''why we toppled all those dictators, undermined all those regimes? Only to come home 'Well done! Good job, but sorry ol' boy! Everything you've risked you life and limb for has changed!' ''

''It was the job we were chosen for.'' Brent said in a low voice. Charlie had heard that before, and acted like it.

''Of course you'd say that. Brent MacWolf, Her Majesty's loyal terrier. Defender of the so-called Faith.''

009 had heard enough. He raised his gun.

''Oh Brent,'' Charlie spouted, ''put it away. It's insulting to think I haven't anticipated your every move.''

009 lowered his gun again.

''I trusted you Charlie.'' He replied.

''Trust,'' Charlie answered, ''what a quaint idea.''

''How did M-I6 miss the fact that your parents were Lienz Cossacks?'' Brent asked. Charlie shook his head.

''Once again Brent, your faith was misplaced. They knew,'' he explained, ''while your parents had the luxury of dying in a climbing accident, mine survived the British betrayal and Stalin's execution squads. But my father couldn't let himself or my mother live with the shame of it. M-I6 figured I was too young to remember. And one of life's little ironies; their son goes to work for the government who caused a father to kill himself and his wife.''

''Hence Janus,'' Brent replied, pointing to his partner's face, ''the two-faced Roman God come to life.''

''It wasn't God who gave me this face,'' Charlie thundered, ''it was you! Setting the timers for three minutes instead of six!''

''Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?'' 009 questioned angrily. Charlie shook his head, a smile appeared on his face.

''No, you're supposed to die for me,'' Charlie then turned, and started to walk away. All of a sudden, he stopped, ''oh, by the way. I thought of asking you to join my little scheme, but somehow I figured that 009's loyalty was to the mission, never to his friends.''

Brent sighed.

''Closing time Brent,'' Charlie called, ''last call!''

009 rose his gun to try and shoot, but he felt a dart hit him in the neck. A stun dart. Brent held his neck and fell to the ground, paralysed and unconscious. Charlie walked up and smiled.

''For England Brent.'' He said.

009 awoke abruptly in the front seat of the Tigre. Behind him, he could hear the voice of a girl screaming, and felt the pounds on the back of his seat.

''Wake up,'' she yelled, ''wake up please! Wake up!''

''I'm here,'' Brent mumbled, then increased his volume so that his passenger could hear him, ''I'm here!''

''Well, then do something to get us out of here!'' the girl ordered. Brent noticed a timer on the front console read; Time to Launch 0:15.

''I'm a little tied up,'' Brent then stopped. Right now wasn't a good time for a joke, ''never mind.''

Suddenly, 009 felt a small vibration under both wings. It became larger and larger until the entire cockpit was shaking. Two missiles shot off into the distance. The timer now read: Time to Impact 0:25, 0:24, 0:23. 009 pieced together what was going on. The missiles were targeted on the Tigre. Using what available body parts he could, Brent frantically smashed buttons. Finally, he found the eject button, but with five seconds left to go. Taking a deep breath, 009 slammed the button home and felt the cockpit shot upward. Below it, the shell of Europe's most top secret helicopter had disappeared in a giant fireball. Two parachutes shot from the top of the cockpit and helped it achieve a soft landing. The impact with the ground had loosened the ropes around 009's wrists and he managed to pull one paw out. Untying the other ropes, Brent jumped out onto the ground. He opened the door to the passenger seat and untied Ginger, helping her to the ground. But the second her feet touched the soil, Ginger lashed out, nailing 009 in the shin. Brent howled in pain and grabbed Ginger by the arm. He was about to explain himself, but 009 was blinded by spotlights from five Russian army vehicles.

''Crap.'' Brent muttered as Russian soldiers got out of the vehicles and forced them into a black car.

The Military Archives main building, the next morning,

Brent and Ginger were escorted into a small windowless room and locked inside. Ginger sat down in a chair, completely avoiding 009's eyes.

''Who are you?'' Brent asked. Ginger made not even a whimper. 009 advanced toward he slowly.

''Listen,'' he explained, ''I'm on your side. I can help you.''

''I don't know anything.'' Ginger said sharply. 009 didn't fall for that easily.

''I don't believe you.'' He answered.

''I don't care what you believe.'' Ginger snapped back. Brent grabbed her arm.

''Look,'' Brent growled, ''they might be back for us any minute. You either take your chances with me or your fellow countrymen who killed everyone at Severnaya.''

Ginger tried to squirm free from 009's grasp, replying as she did so, ''I've never been to Severnaya!''

Brent turned Ginger's arm around and showed her the watch. It read 7:38, exactly when the Goldeneye was detonated over the facility. Ginger blinked and relaxed.

''Who are you?'' she asked Brent. 009 released Ginger arm and answered, ''I work for the British government. The more you tell me, the more I can help you.''

Ginger shook her head.

''I said I don't know anything.'' She insisted. 009 growled in his throat and replied, ''then let's start with what you do know.''

Ginger sighed. This guy wasn't going to give up, so she might as well just tell him. Ginger put her paws on the table and said, ''my name is Ginger Clayton. I was a systems programmer at Severnaya…''

''Go on.'' 009 encouraged, seeing the despair in Ginger's eyes.

''Until they killed everyone.'' Ginger finished.

''Who,'' Brent questioned, ''Charlie Barkin?''

''No, I don't know who that is.'' Ginger admitted. 009 tried a different angle.

''Who's the insider,'' he asked, ''who's the traitor?''

''Kaltag,'' Ginger replied, ''Kaltag Edwards.''

''KGB or military?'' Brent questioned.

''Computer programmer.'' Ginger said. 009 folded his arms.

''There was no one else?'' he asked. Ginger shook her head.

''No,'' she then looked at 009 with innocent puppy-dog eyes, ''they're going to kill me, aren't they?''

Brent put his paw on Ginger's shoulders.

''They won't kill you,'' he assured her, trust me.''

Ginger gave a small smile.

''Trust you. I don't even know you name.''

Before Brent could tell her, Defence Minister Tramp walked into the room with an armed guard.

''Good evening Mr. MacWolf,'' he greeted in a cold voice, ''sit.''

Both Brent and Ginger sat in their metal chair. Tramp sat down in the chair opposite them. He wore his black business suit, and had his hair gelled back.

''I am Defence Minister Tramp Mishkin,'' Tramp explained, placing Brent's seized weapon beside him, just out of the reach of the gun's owner, ''by what means shall we execute you today Commander MacWolf?''

Brent gave a face of mock surprise.

''What, no small talk…no chit-chat,'' he replied, ''that's the trouble with interrogations these days; no one takes the time to make them sinister anymore. It's a lost art…''

''You sense of humour does not slay me Mr. MacWolf,'' Tramp cut in, obviously not humoured by the joke, ''where is the Goldeneye?''

''I assumed you had it Defence Minister.'' 009 answered. Tramp was starting to get annoyed.

''Who was behind your attack on Severnaya?'' he questioned angrily.

''Who had the authorization codes?'' 009 said with the same anger in his tone. Tramp stood up.

''Russia may have changed, but the penalty for terrorism is still death!'' he shouted. Brent shot up too.

''And what's the penalty for treason?'' he exclaimed. Ginger slammed her paw on the table.

''Stop it,'' she thundered, silencing both Tramp and 009, ''stop it both of you! You're like little puppies fighting over their toys!''

Ginger calmed down and said, ''it was Steele. General Steele set off the weapon. I saw him do it.''

Brent looked over to Tramp, who was pleased.

''Are you certain it was Steele?'' he questioned in a calm tone. Ginger nodded confidently.

''Yes,'' she replied, ''He killed everyone and stole the Goldeneye.''

Tramp put his paw on his chin.

''And why would he do that?'' he asked.

''Because there is another satellite.'' Ginger explained.

''Another Goldeneye,'' Tramp concluded and smiled, ''thank you Miss Clayton.''

Tramp turned to 009 and remarked, ''you were talking about the lost art of interrogation Mr. MacWolf?''

Suddenly, General Steele burst into the room, visibly enraged.

''Defence Minister, this was supposed to be my interrogation,'' he exclaimed, ''you are out of order!'' Tramp stood up and pointed right at Steele's face.

''From what I was hearing, it is you who is out of order!'' he said. Steele noticed the gun on the table and picked it up.

''I have seen this weapon before.'' He said. Tramp grabbed the gun and tried to force it out of Steele's paws.

''Put it down,'' he said calmly, but then increased his tone, ''put it down General!''

Steele looked at Tramp and asked, ''do you know who the real enemy is Tramp? Do you?''

Tramp stood up and yelled, ''guards!''

One armed guard ran in, but Steele killed him with on shot from Brent's Desert Eagle. 009 grabbed Ginger and both when under the table and out of harm's way. Steele whirled around and aimed at Tramp's head.

''You see Tramp,'' Steele replied coldly, ''I run this show now. You're time is up.''

Steele pulled the trigger, and Tramp's head was kicked back from the impact. His body fell to the ground in a heap. Steele took the rest of the ammunition from Brent's gun and threw it back to him. Taking his own pistol, Steele started to load the ammo into his mag.

''Defence Minister Mishkin murdered by British agent Brent MacWolf,'' Steele replied as he thought of the newspaper headline for that next day, ''although he was killed while trying to escape. Guards!''

Brent sought his change to retaliate. Taking his metal chair, 009 nailed Steele in the face, knocking him down. The guards ran in, and fired. The metal chair was thick enough that the bullets ricocheted off it. 009 threw the chair at his attackers, knocking them over like dominoes. 009 grabbed an AK-47 from one of the guards and dragged Ginger from the room. The two ran down the hallway, and were intercepted by three guards. Brent fired off three quick bursts, downing the three instantly. 009 and Ginger then ran into a large metal door that said: Military Archives. No Unauthorized Personnel Beyond this Point.

''Perfect.'' Brent replied and opened the door. Both Ginger and 009 ran through the door and hid behind a book case. Brent placed his back against the book case and shoved as hard as he could. The large structure tipped and fell against the metal door, blocking the entrance.

Steele ran up to the door and saw it was useless to try and open the door. He motioned for his soldiers to follow him.

''We'll get them downstairs. They can't hide forever.''

Steele and his soldiers burst through the door on the lower level of the archives. Brent saw them and suddenly looked down. The floor was made of a strong glass.

''Crap.'' He thought. Ginger, meanwhile, leaned against a book case. She looked to her left and suddenly caused a loose stack of books to fall against the floor. Steele looked in her direction.

''There!'' he yelled. 009 got up and grabbed Ginger. As they ran, the glass was ripped apart behind them. There was no turning back. Just then, Ginger lost her footing and fell onto a loose metal grid. The grid gave out under her weight and Ginger plummeted into the arms of General Steele, who carried her away. 009 grabbed the belt Star had given him and fired it at the roof. Taking a deep breath, 009 swung across the archives, nailing a soldier as he vaulted his body through a window on the opposite side of the building. Brent burst through the window in a shower of glass. 009 landed on top of a military truck, and was just in time to see Steele and Ginger get into a car and drive off. He needed a vehicle to chasse them in, but not something that could be easily stopped. Brent panned the parking lot and saw the perfect thing.

''Oh yeah baby,'' 009 thought, ''that's what I'm taking about!''

The streets of St. Petersburg,

The black car with Steele and Ginger in the back seat sped away from the archives building. Suddenly, the solid brick wall seemed to disappear as a tank drove through it. 009 poked his head out from the driver's hatch just to the left of the gun barrel. Steele nearly had a bowel moment when he saw the tank behind him. Turning around, he yelled to the driver, ''faster goddamnit!''

The little black Mercedes accelerated and headed toward the square. Brent followed, but turns the corner a bit too early, taking out a chuck of a building. Steele's car suddenly slows down.

''Why the hell are we stopping?'' Steele questioned angrily. The driver pointed ahead of them.

''Traffic General.'' He said. Steele slammed his fist against the headrest.

''Down the alley!'' he ordered. The driver turned the wheel hard to the left and sped down the small alley, all the while sparks flew off the metal mirrors and paint. 009 turned the tank and ploughed through the alleyway, slicing through the buildings like wire through cheese. The black Mercedes appeared on the other side of the alley and turned right down a riverside road. Behind the tank, two army jeeps follow in hot pursuit, although they have no clue where they are going because of the dust in the alley. The two jeeps burst through the dust and went off the road and into the water. Steele looked ahead and saw a crowded square.

''Use bumper,'' he spluttered, ''that's what it's for!''

The driver gave Steele a look of confusion, but continued on, knocking pedestrians aside as the black Mercedes pressed forward. The people scrambled out of the way as 009 and his tank barrelled through the square. The two then headed toward a third square, this time with a large bronze statue of a past tsar on a winged horse. The Mercedes turned around the statue, but 009 knew he couldn't turn in time. Ducking his head in at the last second, the tank blasted right through the statue's base, planting the statue atop his gun turret.

''Go left!'' Steele yelped as the Mercedes made a hard turn. The tank follows, but finds itself heading towards a low-hanging archway. The statue gets caught in the window and falls to the streets below, smashing an army vehicle as it did so. 009 then notices a bunch of cars behind him, heading at break-neck speed. He grabbed the brake and pulled hard, stopping the tank dead. The cars only had enough time to swerve before hitting the tank. Brent got up and looked at the damage.

''Sorry.'' He yelled and continued on.

An abandoned CCCP military depot, fifteen minutes later,

009 had managed to beat the Mercedes to this old depot because unlike the street car that had to take curbs and such, the tank could go over anything. As he watched, Steele got out of the car and grabbed Ginger, forcing her onto a large black diesel train. It had a red star on the side, and 009 remembered what Rail Wolf had told him.

''They say he runs around in one of those old Soviet missile train…''

''That must be the train.'' Brent replied. He then got an idea. Putting the tank into gear, he drove forward, heading down the line. The train grumbled and slowly moved forward.

Inside the luxuriously decorated interior sat Charlie Barkin, beside him Sasha LaFleur. Steele knocked on the door to Janus' private cabin.

''It's unlocked you dolt.'' Charlie barked. Steele opened and pushed Ginger inside. Charlie put down his biscuit he was nibbling.

''Either you've brought me a gift Steele,'' Charlie remarked, ''or you've made me a very unhappy man.''

Steele grabbed a biscuit and took a bite of it, obviously not liking the taste.

''The Tramp got to them before I could,'' he protested, throwing the biscuit onto the table.

''And Brent?''

Charlie questioned. Steele shrugged.

''He escaped.'' He answered. Charlie tapped his fingers on the table.

''Good for Brent, bad for you.'' He threatened. Steele gave him a "piss off" look. Charlie then noticed Ginger.

''Take a seat my dear.'' He offered. Ginger sat down. Charlie kneeled behind her and started playing with her hair.

''You know, ''he whispered, ''Brent and I shared everything. Absolutely everything.''

Charlie tried to kiss Ginger, but she pulled away.

''You like where we're going,'' Janus continued, ''and you'll even learn to like me.''

All of a sudden, an alarm sounded. Charlie was up and ordering Steele to watch Ginger before she had any clue what had happened.

In the first car after the locomotive, Charlie examined a computer screen. A camera on the top of the train zoomed in on a tank on the tracks.

''Brent,'' Charlie growled, ''only Brent.''

Sasha saw the tank sat right on the tracks.

''He's going to derail us.'' She shrieked. Charlie grabbed a mike.

''Full speed.'' He ordered the engineer.

''Chia?'' the engineer questioned in Russian.

''Full speed, ''Charlie repeated, ''ram him!''

The engineer pulled the speed level as far as it would go. The train gained tremendous speed, and the tank just sat there. Inside, 009 saw the locomotive heading right for him. He took a deep breath and pushed the firing button for the tank, jumping out of the driver's seat as he did so. The shell shot from the gun turret and hit the train. The entire locomotive became a re-incarnation of a meteorite. As Brent watched from the cover of the ditch, the train collided with the tank, throwing up sparks and shrapnel as the tank was destroyed. The train can to a screeching halt. 009 loaded his AK-47 from the archives and boarded the train.

Inside the intelligence car, Sasha and Charlie stirred. Sasha lay against the wall and Charlie had landed flat on his stomach. In front of him was his AK-47. Charlie reached for it and just put his paw on the wooden grip when a boot came down and pinned it. Janus looked up and saw Brent MacWolf with his AK-47 pointed right at his head.

''Why can't you just be a good boy and die?'' Charlie questioned. 009 gave him a snarl.

''You first,'' he then pointed his AK at Sasha, ''you second.''

009 then put his AK off its safety.

''Up!'' he ordered. Both Charlie and Sasha rose to their feet. Janus chuckled.

''Situation Analysis: hopeless,'' he replied, ''you have no back-up, no escape route. And I have the one bargaining chip.''

009 gave a low growl.

''Where is she?'' he asked. Charlie smiled.

''Ah yes, you fatal weakness,'' he then grabbed the microphone to the PA system in his private car, ''Steele, bring her in.''

Charlie then turned back to his former partner.

''Lovely girl,'' he said, ''tastes like strawberries.''

''I wouldn't know.'' Brent answered.

''I would.'' Charlie cut in as Steele opened the door, dragging Ginger in. In his left paw was a pistol, and the barrel was pointed at Ginger's head. Charlie then laughed the laugh of a maniac.

''Ahahaha, so we're back to where we started Brent,'' he taunted his partner's itchy trigger finger, ''the girl or the mission? You drop the gun, I let her live.''

Charlie may have known all his physical moves, but not any mental ones. 009 turned his attention to Steele, hoping to create a bit of leverage between his pistol and Ginger's head.

''Steele,'' he called, ''what has this Cossack promise you?''

Steele gave him a questioning look.

''You knew didn't you,'' Brent asked, ''he's a Lienz Cossack.''

''That was in the past…'' Janus began.

''He'll betray you,'' 009 interrupted, ''just like everyone else.''

''Is this true?'' Steele questioned his "boss." Charlie smiled.

''What's true is that in 48 hours, you and I will have more money than God himself, and Mr. MacWolf will have a small memorial service with only Aleu and a few others in attendance.''

Charlie gave another chuckled.

''So what's it going to be Brent,'' he asked, ''the girl or the mission?''

Brent gave a smile himself, throwing off his foe.

''Kill her,'' he said abruptly, surprising everyone in the car, ''she means nothing to me.''

Charlie shook his head.

''See you in Hell Brent.'' He answered. 009 then made his move. While Steele was occupied, Brent whirled around and fired a burst at the general. He spun to his left and fell onto the floor. Ginger was unharmed. Suddenly, the car is enclosed by metal armour. 009 tapped at it.

''One-inch thick.'' He groaned. Ginger dusted herself off.

''I'm fine,'' she answered sarcastically, ''thank you very much.''

As 009 fiddled with the roof, Ginger sat down in front of a computer in the car. She sees a familiar bunch of code in a small screen to the left.

''Kaltag. Yes!'' she exclaimed. 009 puts his arms down and looked at her.

''What are you doing?'' he asked.

''Kaltag's backing up his files,'' Ginger explained, ''if I can spike him, I can figure out where they are going.''

Now although Brent is a smart canine in his own right, he wasn't too fluent in the language of computers.

''Oh.'' He answered. Ginger was about to start typing, when she noticed 009 doing nothing.

''Well quit standing around and get us out of here!'' she exclaimed. Brent took a step back.

''Yes sir.'' He said.

Above the car behind 009 and Ginger's metal prison, Charlie and Sasha had escaped and were boarding a small Robinson helicopter. When they were about to take off, Charlie grabbed the mike with the wireless link to the car's PA system.

009 was pulling up the car to get to the metal floor when he hears his partner's voice over the PA.

''Good luck with the floor Brent,'' Charlie replied, ''I set the timers for six minutes, the same six minutes you gave me. It was the least I could do for a friend.''

Ginger looked at 009.

''What does he mean?'' she asked.

''We have three minutes.'' Brent replied as he took off his watch. Turning the hands to the three o'clock position, 009 shot out a blue laser, cutting through the metal floor. Ginger typed in a command and hit the Enter key. On the screen, a message flashed; Spike Sent.

In his secret lab, Kaltag twirled a pen in his paws. Suddenly, a message pans across his screen, saying; Spike Pending. He froze, dropping the pen from his fingers.

Ginger had sent the spike, but she needed the password in order to initiate it. She typed in many possible passwords, like arse, buns and butt; all with no success. She turned to 009, who was still cutting through the floor, and asked, ''what else do you call you bottom?''

Brent gave her a confused look.

''What?'' he questioned.

''It's Kaltag's password,'' Ginger explained, ''he liked to play word games. It's what you sit on, but you can't take with you.''

''Chair'' Brent said and went back to his cutting. Ginger typed in the password and watched a red line trace itself across the globe.

''30 seconds!'' Brent yelled.

''He's not in Russia,'' Ginger called, ''Germany, Paris, London, Madrid…''

''20 seconds!''

''..New York, Toronto, Chicago, San Fransicso…''

''15 seconds.'' Brent yelled as he slammed the metal piece with his foot.

''Mexico City, Rio, Miami…'' Ginger replied.

Kaltag starred at the screen. Somehow, Ginger had managed to figure out his password. Shooting up to his feet, Kaltag grabbed circuit boards and ripped them out of their sockets in an attempt to stop the spike.

009 finally managed to kick the floor open. He grabbed Ginger's arm.

''Come on!'' he yelled. Ginger shook her head.

''He's in Cuba, Havana…no…''

The signal then went dead.

''Now!'' Brent shouted. Both dogs jumped through the hole and ran toward the front of the train. The bomb detonated, sending flames high into the air and throwing the two to the ground. Ginger sat up and asked, ''do you destroy every vehicle you get into?''

009 shrugged.

''Standard operating procedure,'' he said, ''boys with toys.''

Ginger shook her head.

''Maybe I should take care of our transportation for our trip to Cuba.'' She suggested. Brent nodded, but did a double take.

''Our trip…?'' he questioned.

Ginger put her paw on her hip.

''Do you know how to disarm the weapon?'' she asked. 009 smiled and shrugged.

''Depends on what kind of weapon that needs to be disarmed.'' He whispered. Ginger giggled.

''Tell me, are there any other standard procedures I should know about Commander?'' she questioned as the two leaned toward each other, lips about to touch.

''Thousands,'' Brent answered softly, but I only pay them lip service.''

The two dogs' lips touched and they both kissed while the train still burned behind them.

The Carribean, near a remote beach,

009 drove his BMW down a dirt road that followed the coastline and beaches. Ginger sighed in content.

''My whole life I've dreamed of coming to the Carribean,'' she replied, ''it's so beautiful here. Not another sole for miles.''

Suddenly, a small computer screen rose up from the dashboard and showed the BMW (represented by a blue blip) being followed by a red blip; an unidentified target. Ginger looked behind the car and saw a small Cessna coming in over their heads. The plane landed in front of the BMW and started to taxi around.

''What is it with you and moving vehicles?'' Ginger questioned. 009 hit the brakes and brought the BMW to a stop just as the pilot got out of the Cessna. It was none other than Sammy Rehonic.

''Hey Brent!'' he called. Brent slapped his forehead.

''Rail Wolf, you try another stunt like that again, and I'll cream you good!'' he exclaimed. Rail Wolf backed off a bit.

''Hey hey,'' he put up his paws, ''easy Brent, I bring gifts from your friend. What's his name; Orion? Comet? Meteor?''

''Star.'' Brent answered and accepted the bag. In it were five remote mines and a grenade. Pocketing the gadgets, Brent threw Rail Wolf the keys to his BMW.

''What're you doing here anyway?'' he asked. Rail Wolf shook his head.

''I'm not here,'' he said officially, ''the CIA has no knowledge and no involvement. Basically absolutely nothing to do with your insertion into Cuba. If you catch my drift.''

''Yes, I do,'' Brent answered. He had heard all this many times before, ''perfectly.''

Rail Wolf smiled and patted the Cessna.

''Borrowed this baby from a friend in the DEA,'' he bragged, ''Coast Guard and FAA are in the loop too. You're cleared on our radar until 0600 hours.''

Rail Wolf then reaches into the cockpit and grabbed some papers, handing them to Brent.

''These are the latest SAT CAM from Langley,'' he explained, ''stay below 600 feet.''

Ginger grabbed the papers.

''500 feet.'' She corrected.

''Who the hell's that?'' Rail Wolf asked.

''Ginger Clayton. Russian Minister of transportation.'' Brent answered.

Rail Wolf motioned Brent closer.

''You check her out?'' he questioned. 009 nodded.

''Head to toe.'' He smiled slyly. Rail Wolf did also.

''Ahh haa,'' he then turned his attention to Ginger, ''so you're looking for a dish the size of a football field huh? Doesn't exist; you can't light a Cuban cigar here without us seeing it.''

Ginger shook her head. She knew she was right.

''I know it's there,'' she insisted, ''it's a duplicate of Severnaya, like your secret transmitters in New Zealand.''

Rail Wolf was shocked.

''I've never been there before,'' he then whispered to 009, ''how'd she know about that?''

Brent ignored the question and asked his own.

''What if I need backup?''

''Get on the radio,'' Sammy replied, ''I'll send in the Marines.''

He then pointed down the road.

''Hang a left at the end of the runway here. Cuba's seven miles to your right.''

Rail Wolf then walked up to the BMW.

''One thing Sammy,'' Brent called, ''don't touch any buttons on that car!''

Rail Wolf nodded, but gave his friend some advice.

''Yo Brent, I got faith,'' he said, ''but be careful. Janus knows you're coming.''

009 gave a gulp as he watched his BMW drive away, leaving a dust cloud behind it.

The next morning,

009 flew the Cessna over the Cuban jungle. Below was an endless sea of green, but suddenly the trees halted around a large lake. Brent examined the lake. It seemed too round; too perfect to be anything else but man-made.

''There is nothing here.'' Ginger replied. But 009 knew better.

''Let's take another pass.'' He suggested and brought the plane into a U-turn. Just then, two missiles shot from the lake and struck the engine. The plane shook from the explosion and pieces of the nose scattered as the little Cessna headed toward the lake. Brent pulled back as hard as he could on the control stick and levelled the doomed plane out. Its belly skimmed across the blue water and crashed onto the shore. Taking out trees as it went, the body of the Cessna finally came to a rest between two strong trees. 009 unbuckled his safety belt and looked over to Ginger. She was unconscious and had a small bit of blood running down her face. Brent grabbed her body and dragged it outside. He too then collapsed onto the wet soil.

It was some time later that Brent slowly opened his eyes. He didn't know how long he was out for; a minute, an hour, a day perhaps. All he knew what that he saw a helicopter above him and a women sliding down a rope. 009 stood up to get a better view Before he could do anything more, Sasha LaFleur lands on the ground and knocks Brent onto his back. Grabbing his collar, Sasha replied, ''this time Mr. MacWolf, the pleasure will be all mine.''

Licking his face, Sasha locked her thighs around 009's ribs. Brent gasps for air, trying to break free, but with no luck. Ginger suddenly stirs and sees the scene. Running up, she tries to free Brent, but Sasha grabbed her around the throat.

''Wait your turn.'' She said and nailed Ginger with her head, knocking the poor collie out. However, this gave 009 a window to defeat his assailant. Grabbing the rope, he clipped it to Sasha's belt and took her AK-47. Aiming quickly, he fired at the helicopter and sent it spinning out of control. The rope went tout and Sasha was pulled backwards, screaming as she did so. Her body was pinned between two trees, and the ropes slowly squeezed her against the trunks. Sasha squealed in agony and finally was killed as her neck was snapped. The helicopter landed on the ground and exploded. The rope snapped and Sasha's body fell from its treetop perch and landed face-first onto the ground.

''She always did enjoy a good squeeze.'' 009 said.

In the dish's control facility, Charlie walked through a glass door and strolled up to Kaltag, who was sitting at his computer.

''Is the satellite in range?'' he asked. Kaltag sighed.

''Six minutes.'' He answered.

Charlie slammed the computer desk with his fist; he was tired of waiting.

''Prepare the dish!'' Janus ordered. Kaltag blew him off.

''No it's too early,'' he replied smugly, ''I am not ready.''

Charlie grabbed Kaltag around his neck and lifted him out of his chair.

''Do it!'' he growled and dropped Kaltag back into his chair. Kaltag gave him a snuff and started activating the dish's systems.

Outside, in the cover of the jungle, 009 and Ginger watched as the lake started to ripple in the centre. Suddenly, a metal object rose from the lake, and soon a dish materialized under the depths.

''So that's why we couldn't see the dish.'' Brent replied as the two watched the dish rise into its final position. He motioned Ginger to follow him.

''Come on.'' He whispered and ran toward the lake bed.

Inside the facility, Charlie was about to prepare his master plan for action. Placing Steele's briefcase onto a table, he took the Goldeneye keys and disk and walked toward Kaltag. Handing the disk and a key to his loyal programmer, Janus smiled.

''It better not be rejected.'' He warned. Kaltag nodded and slipped the dish into the slot. Sitting back in his chair, Kaltag typed in the corresponding codes and grinned.

''Misha is online.'' He said. Charlie was about to answer, when a Golden Retriever with an M-16 walked up.

''Sir, intruders located.'' He replied as he handed Charlie a small remote video-screen. On the monochromatic (black and white) screen was live footage of Brent and Ginger climbing through the foliage around the lake.

''Kill them,'' Janus ordered. As he watched the soldier walk off, he mumbled to himself, ''that dog just won't take a hint!''

Kaltag cleared his throat and caught Charlie's attention.

''Target coordinates?'' he requested. A cold smile spread across Janus' face.

''The target,'' he replied, ''is London!''

Brent and Ginger are starting to make their way toward the emergency access hatch in the centre of the man-made lake when they hear a loud groaning noise. Ginger pointed at the dish.

''He's getting ready to signal Misha!'' he gasped. Brent saw the dish was rotating.

''How do we stop that thing?'' he asked.

''The transmitter is above the…''

Ginger was cut off by a gunshot that ricocheted off a tree trunk. Brent grabbed her and both dove into the lake. Sliding toward the centre of the dish, both dogs tried their best to avoid the bullets from Charlie's soldiers. Ginger suddenly screamed and pointed ahead of the two. Brent saw what she was pointing at. The access hatch was to the side of the large drainage pipe that the lake had disappeared down. Two dogs could easily fall in and die. 009 then noticed two metal handle that were the top of a ladder. Taking a deep breath, he held onto Ginger as hard as he could and let them sail toward the drain.

''What are you doing?'' Ginger exclaimed in fear.

''Trust me okay?'' Brent replied as the ground disappeared beneath them. Stretching out his paw, 009 gripped the ladder and held onto Ginger tightly. 009's body slammed against the metal ladder, causing him extreme pain. Releasing his grip, Brent landed right beside the hatch.

Kaltag sat at his computer watching the screen. The antenna halted and aimed toward the target.

''Antenna in position.'' He replied. Charlie smiled and inserted his golden eye into Slot One. Kaltag stood up and put his key in to the slot to the right of Slot One; Slot Two. Janus grinned and counted down.

''On my mark,'' he ordered, ''3…2…1…mark!''

The two turned their keys in perfect unison; not a second more or less from each other. A blue laser beam shot from the console and went into an eye-shaped slot above the main screen in the facility. On it was a map of the world, and a small blip over London appeared. Misha's path, a blue wavy line, centred itself over the blip. On Kaltag's screen, a message flashed; Weapon Armed. Charlie laughed maniacally.

''God save the Queen!'' he yelled.

Brent and Ginger climbed down the ladder into the facility. Both dogs stealthily manoeuvred around the armed guards and acquired a safe area out of sight. Below, the two could see the activity going on as normal. They hadn't been spotted yet. Ginger then spied a console inside a freezer.

''The mainframe computer.'' She gasped. 009 put up his paw.

''Don't move.'' He whispered and slipped away. Hiding behind a metal pillar, Brent pulled out two detonators and placed them on the pillar and out of sight. Then taking a deep breath, he jumped out and fired off three bullets, killing two guards where they stood. He then ducked behind the pillar against as bullets ricocheted off it. A few holes were pierced in the pillar, and a strange pink liquid started leaking out. Brent smelt it. Petrol. And it looked like the entire pipe was filled with it. He turned his head to get a better view of his surrounding, but all he saw was Ginger climbing down to the computer.

''Ginger…'' he started to hiss, but realised that she was the only one on his team who had enough computer knowledge to impact the antenna's movement. So he stayed quiet. Peering out slightly, 009 saw that he was drastically outnumbered; at least ten to one. And with only a Desert Eagle, and the guards armed to the teeth with firepower, he stood no chance. So Brent slid his gun out and stepped into view, his paws in the air.

The guards led Brent down to the main console where Charlie and Kaltag were. Charlie turned and put his paws behind his back.

''Brent,'' he grumbled, ''what an unpleasant surprise.''

''We aim to please.'' Brent answered smugly. Janus then noticed that Ginger wasn't with 009.

''Where's the girl?'' he questioned, but Brent kept his mouth closed. Charlie sighed.

''Why must you always to this the hard way Brent,'' he asked and turned to his henchmen, ''find her!''

The henchmen saluted and rushed off. Charlie then turned his attention to the objects ceased from Brent's possession; his Desert Eagle, a pen, and his passport. Janus grabbed the pen.

''Old Star,'' he replied upon examining the pen, ''up to his old tricks again huh?''

Charlie then saw 009's Rolex.

''The watch.'' He ordered. A soldier forcibly removed the watch and handed it to Charlie.

''Ah, a new model I see,'' he replied and flipped the Rolex over, ''still press here do I?''

Charlie pressed a small button on the side. The mines 009 had planted were disarmed, and the petrol was starting to pour from the pipes.

Restrained by soldiers, 009 watched as his former partner typed on a computer. On the screen was a bank-transaction chart, and large sums of money were being put into an account codename JAS.

''Interesting set-up Charlie,'' Brent replied, ''you break in the Bank of England via computer and transfer the money electronically; only seconds before setting off the Goldeneye, which erases any record of the transaction. Ingenious.''

Charlie was taken aback by his enemy's compliment.

''Thank you Brent.'' He said. But the compliment wasn't intended.

''But it still boils down to petty theft,'' 009 answered smugly, ''in the end you're just a bank robber. Nothing more than a common thief.''

Charlie's smile turned into a scowl.

In the mainframe room, two soldiers rush in and grab Ginger, just as she finished the codes. All she had to do was press Enter. Breaking free from her captors, Ginger reached over and hit Enter. On the screen read a message; Encryption in Process.

Charlie paced in front of Brent, who was still securely restrained.

''You always had a small mind Brent. It's not just erasing bank records, it's everything on every computer in Greater London,'' Janus explained, tax records, stock market, credit ratings, land registers…criminal records. In just 16 minutes and 42 seconds, the United Kingdom will re-enter the Stone Age!'' Charlie finished as he stood just centimetres from his foe.

''A world-wide financial meltdown,'' Brent concluded, ''all so mad little Charles B. Barkin can settle a score with the world 50 years old!''

''Oh please Brent, spare me the froud,'' Charlie retorted, blowing off his partner's comments, ''I might as well ask for all those vodka martinis that'lll silence the screams of all the men you've killed…''

Charlie paused as he saw Ginger being led up to him.

''...or if you'll find forgiveness in the arms of all those willing women, for all the dead ones you've failed to protect,'' Charlie continued, ''England is about to learn the cost of betrayal. Inflation adjusted from 1945.''

Janus then turned to Ginger.

''Welcome to the party my dear.'' He said. Kaltag swivelled around and saw who had "joined the party."

''Ginger!'' he exclaimed. Ginger saw her former college and felt herself becoming enraged. Lunging at Kaltag, she knocked him to the floor, landing on punch after another on his body. The two guards pulled Ginger off Kaltag and restrained her. Kaltag stood up, grabbing the pen seized from 009. Twirling it between his fingers, Kaltag advanced toward Ginger, clicking the top as he did so. Suddenly, he clicked for a fourth time and pointed it at Ginger's face.

''Don't ever do that again.'' He warned.

''This is not one of your games Kaltag,'' Ginger retorted, ''real people will die, you pathetic worm!''

Kaltag was about to swing, but Charlie caught his arm.

''She was in the mainframe,'' he said, ''check the computer.''

Kaltag yanked his arm from Janus' grasp and shook his head.

''She's a moron, a Level Two programmer,'' he taunted, ''she works under the guidance system.''

Ginger made the face of someone about to launch a spit bomb.

''She doesn't even have access to the firing codes.''

Just as he finished, an alarm sounded. Ginger gave a small siren. Kaltag was at the computer screen in a flash. The expression on his face was that of sheer terror.

''Retro rockets firing!'' he exclaimed. Charlie walked over and questioned, ''what the hell is going on?''

''We will have re-entry in 12 minutes.'' Kaltag replied. Ginger kept smiling.

''It'll burn up somewhere over the Atlantic.'' She replied. Kaltag slammed the desk.

''She changed the access codes!'' he yelled. Charlie was calm and unholstered his pistol.

''Then she can fix them.'' He answered and pushed the pistol into Brent's temples. Ginger was no phased.

''Go ahead, shoot him,'' she bluffed, ''he means nothing to me.''

Brent rolled his eyes. For once, someone he taught a lesson too had actually listened. Kaltag then whirled around.

''I can do it,'' he blurted out, ''I can break her codes!''

Janus turned his head.

''Then do it your fucking idiot!'' he ordered. Kaltag nodded and turned back around, twirling Brent's pen between his fingers, clicking the top twice, then three times, then once. 009 watched the pen intensely. In mid-type, Kaltag dropped the pen, and bent down to retrieve it. Charlie growled and took his gun from Brent to Ginger.

''Tell him now!'' he ordered. Kaltag stood just abruptly, angered beyond anything Brent had ever seen. He clicked the pen three times. It had four seconds.

''Give the codes Ginger,'' he roared, ''give them to me!''

009 jumped at Kaltag and knocked the pen from his hands. It landed in the lake of petrol. 3…2…1…

BOOM! Shrapnel and glass were thrown everywhere, computers were destroyed and fires erupted from the leaking fuel. 009 and Ginger took this opportunity to escape. They find and elevator and head for the antenna.

''Can Kaltag break your codes?'' Brent asked. Ginger nodded.

''Possibly.'' She answered. Brent did a double-take.

''Possibly,'' he repeated, ''that means we have to take out the transmitter!''

Ginger swished her hair back.

''By the way, I'm fine thank you.'' She said promptly. 009 gave her a confused look.

A guard was positioned at the antenna entrance to the elevator. 009 had known about this since his ex-partner had always been a person to not take any chances. The doors opened and on the floor of the elevator was a girl; a female collie, unconscious. The guard rushed to her aid, but had no time left after that. Brent fell from the roof and grabbed the guard by the shoulders and slammed him hard against the elevator's side walls. Taking the pistol from the unconscious dog, 009 threw it to Ginger.

''Do you know how to use one of these?'' he asked. Ginger took the magazine out of the gun and reloaded it, cocking it.

''Yes.'' She replied. Brent smiled.

''Good,'' Brent reloaded the soldier's AK-47 and put up his paw, ''stand aside. It'll be too dangerous for you.''

And with that, 009 Brent MacWolf ran toward what would be his greatest challenge. A duel…with Janus.

In the facility, Charlie stood over Kaltag, watching the screen. Behind them, fires raged on and whomever was no killed was trying to extinguish them.

''How long?'' Charlie questioned impatiently.

''One minute!'' he yelped. Janus was becoming annoyed.

''Work harder dammit!'' he ordered.

''I'm fixing it.'' Kaltag insisted. Charlie thought otherwise. Calling over a soldier, he gave him one single order.

''If he moves, kill him.''

Janus then grabbed the soldier's AK-47 and ran to the antenna's emergency cable car. The soldier pulled out his pistol and aimed it at Kaltag head. His eyes seemed to pop and he started t type quicker than he had ever before.

009 sprinted across a small catwalk from the facility access elevator to the antenna. Behind him, Charlie was gaining with the cable car. Taking aim, Janus fired a few bursts at Brent. 009 flattened himself against the

catwalk and fired off his own AK. Charlie ducked behind the catwalk's steel cross member, which deflected the rounds. Both click on an empty mag, and both had to resort to their pistols. Charlie aimed and fired at 009 as he bolted across the catwalk. Janus' aim was good, but 009 was faster than his could shoot, so every bullet ricocheted just behind his heels. The cable car gave a small jerk as it reached its station. Charlie jumped out and fired at 009 as he ran in front of the stairway (which Charlie was at the bottom of.) Brent did a small somersault as he rolled down the metal stairs that lead to the main antenna. Below his feet was a hatch to the engine room. Brent smiled and opened the hatch, jumping down into the room.

In the facility, Kaltag had at that moment been successful in cracking Ginger's codes. On his screen, a message scrolled; Send Command.

''Yes,'' he replied, ''I am invincible.''

He then started typing away.

Inside the engine room, the chain and gears that rotated the antenna started to move. Brent grabbed a pole, but was thrown back as Charlie swung in, nailing his enemy with his boots.

''Predictable,'' Charlie replied, ''as usual.''

009 wiped the blood from his lip and jumped up, tackling his former partner to the ground. Picking him up, Brent threw Charlie down a flight of stairs, firing his pistol as he fell. 009 took a few deep breaths; he hadn't killed anyone like that before, and it really took a lot of energy out of him. Now to stop the antenna, but how? Without a computer control at this end, and no computer knowledge anyway, 009 was pretty screwed. Unless…

''Guess it's time to do things old school.'' Brent said and grabbed a metal pipe. Using all his strength, he jammed the pipe into the chain and ran after his enemy.

The pipe followed the chain and becomes caught between two gears, stopping the antenna.

On Kaltag's screen, a new message panned; Antenna Malfunctioning. Kaltag gave a small squeal.

On antenna screened to a halt. 009 ran along a small catwalk and came across a small amount of blood. Charlie's most likely. Brent examined the blood and suddenly heard a clang of metal. Whirling around, he held his pistol in the air. No one. Below him was another hatch, and hopefully a way off this dish. 009 jumped down and just as his paws touched the ground, Charlie's boots nailed him to the ground. 009 got up and punched Charlie in the face. Charlie retaliated and charged at Brent, knocking both of them to the floor. 009's pistol slid to one side. Both of them got up and soon an all-out brawl occurred. Lefts, rights, kicks, tackles, the whole nine yards. Finally, Charlie grabbed 009's pistol and aimed it at his foe, who clutched a white ladder. The face of Janus was covered in streams of blood, and a smile of satisfaction.

''You know Brent,'' he said, ''I was always better.''

009 kicked the release level for the ladder and held on. Charlie saw him too late and fired; missing his target. 009 rode the ladder down, and the very quickly the ladder reached its length threshold. Brent's arm felt like it was about to be ripped out of its socket. Charlie clicked on another empty magazine. Cursing, he grabbed a radio and yelled, ''Alpha One to gunship! Alpha One to gunship!''

In a clearing in the jungle, Ginger watched as a helicopter started up. She snuck on board just as it took off and headed for the antenna.

Charlie put down the radio and started climbing down the ladder. Looking behind him, Janus saw his enemy trying to climb up. Brent got about half way before Charlie decided to finish him off. Grabbing the edges of the ladder, Charlie slid down, pasting 009 in the face. He fell backwards and clutched the bottom rung of the ladder. His body smashed against the thick steel support that held the maintenance platform to the antenna. Charlie slowly climbed down and placed his boot on 009's paw. He smiled and replied evilly, ''I'm just stamping out the competition.''

Charlie then slammed his paw down on Brent's knuckle. Letting go, 009 fell onto the platform and grabbed some support wires, preventing himself a deadly fall.

Kaltag shook his monitor as he yelled, ''speak to me!''

Charlie jumped down onto the platform and grabbed 009 by the throat, choking him and holding him over the edge. The gunship helicopter appeared in view, but behind the pilot, Ginger held a gun. Charlie stared, and this distraction gave 009 his golden opportunity. Using all his strength, Brent kicked Charlie off him and made his enemy fall backwards and over the side, but not before 009 grabbed his hind paw. Charlie looked up at Brent and asked, ''for England Brent?''

Brent MacWolf, after enduring all the crap his former partner had put him and countless others through, not to mention the lives he took, had only one thing to say.

''No,'' he said angrily, ''for me.''

009 then released Charlie B. Barkin to the grip of gravity. With a blood curdling scream, he plummeted toward the concrete below. His body seemed to contract as it connected with the dish.

Kaltag too made a scream as he watched the timer run out for Misha. The satellite exploded in the atmosphere.

Ginger told the pilot to fly close to 009, who jumped and grabbed the helicopter's runners. As they flew away, the antenna disappeared in a mass of fire, heat and shrapnel. Charlie gave a small cough and looked up. He lived long enough to watch the antenna fall onto him, crushing what was left of the Lienz Cossack known as Janus.

Brent leaped from the helicopter's runners, followed by Ginger. She was worried about him.

''Brent, Brent, are you alright?'' she asked frantically. 009 smiled and answered, ''I'm fine thank you.''

Ginger gave a squeal of glee and gave Brent a long kiss. The two lay in the long grass, awaiting their ride.

In the wreckage, Kaltag poked his head out and saw he was the last one alive. It was true, he was invincible. Kaltag jumped up and yelled, ''yes! I am invincible!''

He had spoken too soon. A liquid nitrogen tank that remained ruptured, and the gas shot out, hitting Kaltag and freezing him instantly. He was killed right then and there; a frozen statue.

An American helicopter flew up and landed on the ground near Brent and Ginger. 009 picked Ginger up and held her in his arms.

''Shall we?'' he asked. Ginger smiled.

''No plane or train, I have had enough transport for one day.'' She giggled. The two jumped into the helicopter and it flew off into the sunset.

END

Now THAT was a long haul! I want to dedicate this story to two people; My late Papa Clarence Johnston and to Ian Fleming, who created a spy with a legacy that still is running strong today.

Brent MacWolf, Ginger, and Rail Wolf are copyrighted to me ©2003-2006 silverbalto

Jenna, Aleu, Kodi, Kaltag, Steele, Nikki and Star are copyrighted to Universal Pictures ©1995-2005

Lady and Tramp are copyrighted to Disney © 1946-2006

Charlie Barkin and Sasha La-Fleur are copyrighted to MGM © 1996-2006

Do not use any of my characters and scenarios without prior approval and permission.