March 12, 2003

Atlantic City, NJ

The room in the hotel Mr. Osato was staying in was comfortable. He was especially pleased with it, as he had paid good money for this room. He had told the maids that they were not to come in or go near the door between the hours of 18.00 and 20.00, as he had some business associates coming, and they were going to be discussing something extremely urgent and delicate.

He did not lie to them, as it was true-The meeting was to be carefully handled, or else they would be found out by the C.I.A. or MI6. This was why Mr. Osato had picked this hotel, and this particular city. Atlantic City was famous, but it had run into some tougher times and thus fewer people visited it now. Also, the authorities were more than likely watching the other American cities. So, peace and quiet.

Mr. Osato took off his brown overcoat and Homburg hat, revealing a short, thin man of forty-four with grey hair and a forehead that looked larger than it really was due to his receding hairline. His eyes were a hazel colour and he had a goatee as grey as his hair. He looked like a wealthy business executive, especially in his black tweed three-piece suit and red silk tie with black Doc Marten ankle-high loafers.

Mr. Osato was a rather mid-level member of the Japanese Secret Service, but he had a brother in the New York branch of the Japanese crime syndicate, the Yakuza. He told his superiors that he used his brother as an informant about the underworld, when in reality, Mr. Osato was a member of the Yakuza, and had come here to sell secrets to his brother and several other men.

At 18.00, he had changed into a black double-breasted suit with purple silk tie and black brogues. In through the door came his brother, dressed simply in dark green tweed suit with blue tie, a middle-aged man in a dark blue suit, and three fellow Yakuza members.

For half an hour, Mr. Osato explained what these secrets were, and their value to both the Japanese and British governments, knowing that this would increase their worth. He saw that everyone present was happy with what he had told them.

"How much are each of you willing to pay for these little floppy disks, gentlemen?" he asked, smiling. "One million dollars," said Osato's brother. "I will pay two million," said another Yakuza man.

"Six lead bullets," said a voice. The criminals looked at one another, surprised, and then looked to where the voice had come from, which was near the bed. The middle-aged man drew his gun, a Smith & Wesson. Cocking it, he pointed at the bed. A man, dressed in a black duffle coat with navy blue jeans, stood up, holding a small gun with skeleton grip.

"Hah," said Mr. Osato, "I didn't expect you, Bond." The man, Bond, stepped from the bed, still holding his gun. "If the high-ups were so sure I was selling them out-they would've sent someone better."

"Yes, but my file has one kill. A Norwegian double-agent who betrayed a teammate of mine, and all it takes are…"

"Seven, Mr. Bond, seven kills. I read about the 00-Section and all their famed killers. I know how many should die." Mr. Osato's smile was long gone now, replaced by a sinister frown. His brother had a Walther P99 aimed at Bond, who simply smiled.

"Do any of you mind if I take out my silencer? I'd hate for the whole hotel to hear us all," asked Bond, as he took out the eponymous device, and screwed it onto the barrel of his gun. Mr. Osato simply waved his hand, silently saying 'yes, do so.'

Bond finished screwing the silencer on, and sat down on the bed. The six men continued to look at him. A long pause ensued, during which Bond noticed that the other three Yakuza men were foolishly unarmed. They would be the easiest to kill, as would Osato.

But first, he had to find a way to kill the other two.

His eyes went to the only source of light in the room-a lamp on Mr. Osato's desk, and the light from the chandelier hanging above them. He looked up for a moment, then shot at one of the Yakuza men, hitting him straight in the neck, before ducking under the bed and shooting Osato's brother in the right eye. This bullet went through and entered the head of the second Yakuza man. The middle-aged man grabbed his silencer and quickly screwed it on as he went to the bed, only seeing that Bond was smiling at him, hands in the air.

"You've proven your point, Mr. Bond," said the man, "But I don't see you making the famous 00-section. You'll be dead before then." Bond shook his head, still smiling. "Are you sure you're not talking about yourself?" he asked sarcastically before he reached the man's gun, wrestled it out of his hands, and shot him in the head, through the lower jaw and shooting at Yakuza no. 3, hitting him in the heart. He then put the body down and pointed the gun at Mr. Osato.

"Well, I think you'll be glad to know that your country won't really investigate this, or your friends."

Mr. Osato smiled. "I'm glad to hear that. Though may I ask why?"

Bond's face went serious, before saying "Because they'll think it's a murder-suicide. Don't you notice I have gloves?" With that, he fired a shot in between Mr. Osato's eyes, made of lead. He smiled a genuine smile.

He arranged the bodies around and left the Beretta at the scene, walking out the door.

Now, Royal Navy Commander James Bond was no longer a simple MI6 Agent. He was a 00-Agent.

Codename: 007.

AN: The first chapter for my interpretation of Casino Royale, and the first in a series of rewrites of James Bond stories.

James Bond belongs to EON Productions and the family of Ian Fleming.