Nightingale: A Natalya and James Bond fan fiction
Addendum: This is a revision of the first five chapters of fan fiction which I previously published.
I have now combined them into Chapter 1 of Nightingale. Please enjoy my little masterpiece.
It has been edited for content, with additional material. As a writer, my primary concern has been to link the various scenes properly. Smooth transitions are essential for effective storytelling. It is my belief that I did not provide this in my earlier work. The revised material below is my belated attempt to rectify this.
I would deeply appreciate your comments and support.
As aspiring writers, our work is our bond. Something we may all be proud of, by making a difference in people's lives. We evoke emotions they have yet to experience before. What other profession has this power? The story below will continue with revisions coming in daily. It is a work in progress.
Please tell me how I am doing. Thanks.
Disclaimer: This is my first attempt at fan fiction. James Bond is at essence a fantasy character. Any attempt to portray him realistically detracts from the fun in his movies. While I will not be frivolous in his portrayal, I will not be strictly following the "series" formula in the movies. The mediums of writing and movies are different in their nature. An epic story is being planned. So hold on and enjoy the ride!
Chapter 1- A New Beginning
Antarctica was definitely not a pleasant place to visit.
Discovered by the modern world in 1897. It was in truth an oddity of sorts. With no natural resources and of limited strategic value, it was a barren and desolate continent of little value to anyone.
Still, there was a strange allure to it, which attracted various odd individuals to this acrid land. No one could really explain it. Not to any real satisfaction.
Some postulated that icy Antarctica bespoke to something deep within the human psyche. The irrational need to challenge the unexpected. The deep unknown. It was a temptation only a rare few could resist.
Thus the stories began. Travelers brought back perilous tales of freezing blizzards, frostbite and inhospitable natives.
It sounded almost like sheer hell. A charming vacation spot indeed.
The public was disbelieving at first. Were conditions truly that bad? Surely the tales were a lie. In the end, everyone agreed there was only one way to find out.
Somebody had to go out there and come back. Preferably in one piece.
The question now was to find someone dumb enough to agree. It was certainly a headache for the organizers. Who would be that stupid?
Well, they needn't have worried.
Dozens of brave would be explorers volunteered. Brave, confident and the top of their field, they declared the expedition to be a true test of the spirit of man. As they met the adoring public, they vowed that they would prevail. This last frontier would be conquered.
They thought themselves as valiant pioneers in a field that held few challengers.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
Truth be told, they really had no idea on what was awaiting them. It was unwise for them to even be there. They came unprepared in every respect.
Such was the arrogance of youth.
Insufficient supplies, Slothful guides, inaccurate maps. They did everything wrong, and they didn't even know it.
Still it was the 20th Century... The Great Depression was at its peak. Unemployment and broken families ran unbounded. The entire fabric of Western civilization was on the verge of total disintegration. The World desperately needed heroes. To lift everyone's spirits. To show a self-pitying world anything was possible. If one had the simple will to try.
Enthusiastically lauded by the press, the expedition was hailed as the Adventure of the Century.
The Secrets of Antarctica would be finally revealed to the entire world. The final frontier would be settled. The idea caught everyone's imagination.
A mania was born. Antarctic fever. Cold was in. Heat was out
As the date for departure neared, enthusiastic crowds filled the streets to see their intrepid heroes off. Jubilation was in the air. Bushels of scented flowers thrown onto the dirt paved streets. With tears in their eyes, the would-be conquerors set off on their great adventure. With a solemn vow, they promised to return within six months. Nothing would stop them.
Except death. None of them survived. Not a single one.
The Ancient tales were true. Antarctica was hell on earth. The rescue party found the corpses of the explorers perfectly preserved. Some were still wearing their pajamas in bed. Their teacups frozen solid in their hand.
It was unnerving, to say the least.
Journal entries told of endless days without sleep, blinding suns and harsh starvation. It also told of strange creatures that disappeared at will, and cities filled with the living dead.
Not exactly your typical bedtime story.
No one believed it of course. The stories were quickly dismissed. They were thought to be fabrications caused by hallucinations and fragile minds. No one disagreed. No one wanted to know the truth.
And who could blame them? Truth telling had never been a popular sport across the ages.
Still the stories grew and grew. Antarctica soon began to gain a reputation. A most fearsome one at that. One that was certainly respected. It had but a simple message. Don't mess with Mother Nature.
On the whole, everyone got it. Well…almost everyone anyway.
Till the end of the 21st Century, Antarctica remained devoid of human life. With the exception of the odd scientist or thrill-seekers, Antarctica became forgotten by the entire world.
Until now.
Present- The South Pole
It was just that kind of scenic vacation spot. Cold, frightening and inhospitable. A challenge for even the hardiest adventurer.
Howling winds raged in the middle of the night, threatening to tear life from anyone who stood in its path. Loud and ear splitting, there was a dark and eerie atmosphere in the air.
No sane person would be here.
However, the solitary female figure that stood in the storm's path however would have debated that particular point. Wrapped in furs, the figure motioned her hands towards a large drilling machine, beckoning it to come forth towards her. Ponderous and slow moving, the machine ponderously made its way through the large mounds of ice and snow, spewing large sprays of smoke. It was time for it to go to work.
"There!" The figure hissed with silky satisfaction, stabbing her arms towards a hidden crevice in a glazier.
The Machine began its work immediately, focusing its sonic drill onto the ice floor. Chunks of ice were hardily displaced, its shards sometimes striking the mysterious figure. Despite this, the Figure ignored the oncoming debris. She had other pressing concerns to worry about. This deluge on her senses... was merely an inconvenience. The drilling continued, until suddenly a noxious blue gas appeared.
Pandemonium was in the air.
"Stop!" The figure cried. She gestured the machine to cease its functions. Obeying its mistress's commands, the machine slowly backed away and shut itself down. There was no longer any need for it. This part of the operation was over.
Another had just begun.
With a firm girth, the figure strode purposely towards its prize. There was a blue glint in the air. Just a spark at first, until it suddenly multiplied filling the entire horizon. It was not unlike Aura Borealis, only in this case it was much more beautiful and captivating. Colored patterns appeared, wildly shifting in form and shape at abrupt times. It was dazzling. To an onlooker, it seemed heaven had come to earth.
The figure was unmoved. She was not looking for Heaven. It's opposite in fact.
She sought the source of the phenomenon. To her surprise it was...
A Mound of Blue Crystals.
It stuck out of the ice in a large abundance. Filling almost an entire crater. They seemed almost tumescent in essence. Startling in its unearthliness. A strange warmth seemed to emerge from it. Steam emerged forming a large vapor cloud. The figure hesitantly reached for one of the crystals. Finally she tore one loose with a strong jerk and viewed her prize.
It was extraordinary. The Elder Tales were true.
The figure turned her head to the sky and laughed with abandon.
Nothing would stop her now. The time of Avatar was at hand.
London- Three months later
The Training Dojo- MI6 Headquarters
The impact of the bokkon staff rattled Bond's body amour. Sending shockwaves through his body. Fortunately he was quick to respond. Quickly adjusting himself, Bond settled into a defensive posture and awaited the next move. His movements were calm and relaxed.
There was little need for panic.
A drop of perspiration began to drip from his brow. Resisting the urge to wipe it, Bond studied the opponent before him.
"Getting tired Mr. Bond" remarked Amber Craig. She served as MI6's Top Training Instructor. A predecessor of the late Miranda Frost. Amber was an expert swordfighter and martial arts exponent. A slender, willowy woman, twenty years of age. She was easily of Olympic caliber. Her skills were unmatched in the service. Holding records that have never been beaten before.
She was a most dangerous opponent indeed. Not to be taken lightly.
Bond calmly held his staff in a vertical pose and awaited her next move.
It would not be long now.
As for Amber. She studied her opponent and chuckled. This was shaping up to be a most interesting match indeed. The rumors were true. 007 was a different man.
Elise, her MI6 colleague, had told her Bond had changed. And not all for the better. A subtle cruelty had grown within him, making him unpredictable and dangerous. Elise blushed when she had revealed that.
Amber shook her head in disgust. Another one of Bond's many victims.
Bond's reputation as a ladies man was well known to her., as well as his abilities as a field agent. However the question now was; Had Bond lost his edge?
There was only one way to find out.
Thus on the pretext of a training evaluation, Amber had challenged Bond to a friendly sparring match. She was sure Bond would not refuse. He had never been known to back down from a challenge before.
Or so the legend went.
In fact, to her surprise Bond had accepted her challenge quite nonchalantly. He had treated it as a matter of little concern, which surprised Amber. She was expecting a different reaction. Amber had a reputation herself of being not a pushover. She always pushed her trainings sessions to the limit.
Sometimes to the extent of causing injury. M had reprimanded her several times on that matter, but she had refused to be swayed. She had her own ways of doing things and this was one of them.
Besides, she brought the best out of people, this way. At a small cost, of course. They would heal.
Still, she became feared throughout the service. Rare indeed, was the individual who dared to step into a match with her. Bond had done it without a second thought.
Amber grimaced; there was a cold gleam in his eye though, which frightened her. It both repelled and ripened her interest.
Was Bond as good as his reputation? In the field or in bed. That answer would soon be revealed.
That was fifteen minutes ago. The fight so far had been one sided, and no surprises had been offered.
This made it almost disappointing.
Bond was a legendary agent of infamous repute. He used women badly. Or so the rumors went. All her female colleagues in MI6 had commented on it. In essence it was a strange paradox.
Bond's exploits as a womanizer was legendry. He treated women like chattel or so the rumors went. He gave them little regard. Even in this enlightened age. Amber always wondered what his attraction was.
Now she knew. The man was a deadly machine. Cold and professional.
Who was this man? What drove him? What bought out such loyalty in his lovers? There was only one way Amber could find out.
By testing him out in person.
Amber had always believed that a man's character was ultimately revealed in the way he fought and made love. Nothing could be held back in those respects. His true nature would be revealed.
Bond would be no exception. The deciding factor whether being he could win this match.
"Ready or not. Here I come" she smiled. Executing her staff in an intricate pattern, Amber aimed a quick plunge at Bonds knee. It would put him off balance, allowing her to finish him off at her leisure.
Bond was clearly no match for her. She was better trained and had much more experience with the Bokkon staff. Amber had already laid several blows on Bond with ease. There was no way that Bond could win.
She was wrong.
As Amber struck, Bond leapt into the air, catching her move in mid swing. It broke her concentration, causing her to falter. Bond followed up his attack with a barrage of attacks that put Amber in the defensive. The intensity was furious.
No quarter was given. No pity. Bond was the perfect killing machine.
Amber struggled to counter the onslaught of blows laid into her. Bond's strength was prestigious to say the least. Like hail before a storm, he drove her back with little effort. As the fight wore on, Amber realized that Bond had been holding back before. He had been testing her defenses.
Now he displayed his true fury. It was not unlike struggling in the midst of the storm. Futile to predict. Amber seethed from within. She had neatly misjudged him and now she was paying the price.
The rain of blows grew, making Amber hard pressed to keep up and respond. Finally, Bond slipped a jab through, impacting against Amber's wrist. She grimaced in pain and smiled.
Pain was her aphrodisiac.
It told her she was still alive.
Acting as a stimulus, it also had the welcome effect of heightening her senses. Pushing her to greater standards of performance. Amber had long learned to value its application.
Making it her best friend. As she did so now.
Shifting her staff to her right left, Amber began weaving a complex form of defense. It was of ancient origin and unfamiliar to many parishioners. Bond included.
Amber grinned. There was no way Bond could beat it.
She was wrong.
Amber was shocked to find Bond's Bokkon staff penetrating her guard. She had given Bond no opening to do so. The staff lunge forced her to withdraw in a backwards spin. Amber struggled to maintain her balance. Reversing her staff, she strove to launch a desperate attack.
Who was this man? Amber thought, as the battle entered its final phase. Things were indeed not proceeding as planned. She had to finish this quickly. Relinquishing her staff, she aimed a palm strike at Bond's face. She narrowly missed and then performed a roundhouse kick to his head.
It never connected.
Sweeping up beneath her, Bond intercepted Amber's leg kick with a viselike grip. Pain trembling through her body, she tried to shake herself free. Amber soon found it was futile. Taking a deep breathe, she found herself flying into the air without resistance. She braced for impact. Seconds turned to eternity within her state of mind. A sense of weightlessness came over her. It was both disorientating and uplifting. Not unlike watching a car crash before it happened, Amber thought as she flew helplessly through the air.
Before she knew it, Amber hit the floor with a loud crash. Landing with balls on her feet, she rolled with the impact and tried to recover.
It was too late. Before she could centre herself, Bond rammed into her locking Amber in a vice like grip. Laid out like a virgin bride, she was at Bond's mercy.
Her favorite position, in actual fact.
"That wasn't fair" she husked in a silky voice. "It never is" was his annoying response. He was teasing her. Amber Craig was not an easy woman. Far from it. But she was a passionate one. She had special needs that had to be filled. Especially now.
It was the right time and the right place. For two fellow agents to indulge in their mutual attraction.
Running her fingers through his hair, she made no attempt to rise but instead began to draw him in. She was intrigued by this man, and felt an urgent desire to both hurt and love him. Amber wanted too pierce through his defenses. To get behind that hidden mystique Pierce. An appropriate word indeed, Amber thought wryly. She flung her arms around Bond, clinging onto him for dear life. She would give herself up to him. Completely and without reservation.
It would be no sacrifice.
Her voluptuous body was a marvel. One that she was most proud of. It would serve her well now. She thrust herself onto him, feeling the tightness within her swelling to explode. She became desperate to release it. The agony was intolerable. Pleasure and pain conflicted within her senses. She gave an exquisite moan. It was Ecstasy and never wanted it to end.
Amber nestled into his chest seductively, awaiting his next thrust. She did not have long to wait. It was hard and brutal. He drove in without abandon, making love to her as if it was her last. It shattered her mind, bathing her in a cold sweat. Her senses expanded. Amber however detected a sense of kindness in his actions. It was faint but recognizable, making it all the more evident.
Why was it there?
Amber suddenly realized that the man above her truly cared for the women he made love to. They were precious to him. He was as like a faithful knight to them.
A Protector.
And yet...he was so distant.
Amber Craig. Fighter. Lover. Spy. Wondered. And awaited his next move.
Bond's fingers expertly found her buttons and began undressing her with amazing speed. His hands roamed every part of her body. Amber felt naked as like an unborn child. She was at his mercy.
It was a disorientating and yet intoxicating experience. Would he savage her? She certainly hoped so.
Bond did not disappoint.
Amber felt his lips tighten around hers. She slipped her tongue in, enticing him on. The two of them made love. Their lovemaking was intense and unyielding; both partners giving no quarter, striving until the end. In her climax, Amber gave a sudden bird like cry. She was like an Oriole bird. Beautiful and heartrending She clung onto Bond desperately, her wanton nakedness unbound. She was a woman and gloried in it. Her perfectly coiffure hair was in disarray. Sweat soaked their bodies.
It was the very picture of beauty. And Bond especially did everything to his best. Even this...
It was a beautiful morning when Bond entered M's office the next morning. The sky was blue. The air fresh. A prospect of good will was felt by everyone.
Well, almost everyone.
"Morning, Moneypenny" said James Bond as he greeted M's personal Secretary. He was in a good mood today. The sex with Amber had invigorated him, pumping his reserves with energy and hope for the future.
"Better go in James, M is waiting for you." said Moneypenny. There was a worried look on her face. At that point, Bond knew trouble was in the brewing.
He decided to take it in stride. "She always is" remarked Bond blandly. It would be best he put his happy face on. This was certainly going to be one of those days. What would M have for him today? Something challenging for once? Things had been somewhat boring of late. With a bemused smile, Bond made his way in through the door.
M's office was stark, utilitarian. It fitted well with the cold nature of the woman that owned it.
"The Evil Queen of Numbers" some called her.
Bond thought the nickname was somewhat inaccurate. The new M was more than merely a cankerous old bitch. She possessed a razor sharp minded with a fierce ruthlessness to match. Over the past few years, Bond had developed a grudging respect for this new M.
He could understand her reasoning; though not necessarily agree with all of them.
An icy stench emerged from M's office, not unlike steam rising from a glacier. Smoldering and hot. Many visitors entering the room thought it stifling and dry. M herself thought it well represented the precision and efficiency MI6 brought to bear in its tasks.
A formidable woman indeed, Bond thought. It never paid to underestimate M.
Those who did so did at their peril. Very few survived.
Personal reservations aside, Bond truly respected this new M. In fact, he had saved her life on several occasions and she was an individual that trusted her instincts, even in the face of contrary evidence. She valued his talents.
That counted for something in Bond's mind. She certainly had the mettle for this position. He reluctantly admitted he could think of no one better. This M always cut straight to the point. In a world of constant danger and crisis, tardiness was indeed appropriate.
She certainly was not standing on ceremony now.
"Sit down 007." M said curtly. "A new situation has presented itself."
"Over the past 6 months, a series of high-tech thefts have occurred at various communication installations around the Baltic and Russian region. Numerous lives were lost, including several key Russian Intelligence operatives and one of ours. 004." Bond gasped with surprise. 004 was a close friend, albeit a distant one. "Despite our best efforts to find him, 004 has disappeared off the face of the map."
"Do we have any suspects?" Bond slowly asked. His eyes narrowed with hidden interest. 004 was a highly experienced MI6 operative. Notoriously difficult to kill even during the mock training exercises that Bond had participated in.
"In a way." M said enigmatically "The attackers left this insignia behind during two of their raids. We believe it to be a vital clue to their identity and base of operations." M pressed a button, flashing a florid image onto the overhead screen. "This is the insignia of the Avatar Marine Alliance." M explained.
"Avatar...Yes I remember. A sort of Marine Institute isn't it?" Bond asked, his eyes narrowing with surprise. The Avatar Alliance was a highly influential humanitarian organization with bases all around the world. Their reputation was said to be without question.
"Yes. Owned by this woman. Evelyn Immogen." A picture of a stately 30 year old woman flashed onscreen. Her face was exotic, with painted eyelashes. Not exactly beautiful, Bond thought, but it certainly held its attractions. Wrapped in a dress of white silk and a diamond necklace, her face radiated charisma and willpower.
"Someone definitely not to be underestimated" thought Bond. Pursuing her would certainly be a challenge. Fortunately, Bond was always game. He never gave up on these things.
"I am sure you remember her from the Great Reef clean up a few years back." M said in a matter of fact voice "As the Russians have also lost an operative with regards this matter, they have consented to co-operate with us. They have agreed to lend us one of their top operatives to assist you in this case."
"Their top operative. Who might that be? Dimitri... Alexi?" wondered Bond with sharp interest. The end of the Cold War might have ended MI6's rivalry with the "Opposition" but the two organization's relationship remained a complex one. They were as much fair weather friends as deadly enemies. Indeed, Bond's past few run-ins with the FSB had been less than pleasant.
"Actually James, it is a…old friend of yours." said M caustically, pressing a button.
The side door opened. revealing...
A fiery woman from his past. Someone that Bond had never expected to see again.
Natalya Fyodorovna Simonova. The fiery sole survivor of Severnaya.
Bond's heart leapt at the sight of her. It had been a long time since they had parted company. Even now the memories were most painful.
Natalya looked just as Bond last saw her. Immaculate and ravishing. With reddish hair and plenty of spunk to spare, Natalya was a rare individual indeed. Bond had never forgotten their many experiences together.
The Goldeneye incident. The Betrayal of Alec. This woman had stood by him through the darkest periods of his life. She was a light in his darkness, questioning his reasons for revenge and his way of life. The futility of it. Offering him solace and compassion when he needed it most.
Bond had always wondered what had happened to her.
No, that wasn't exactly true. He had always tried to clear his mind of the past. They were a dangerous hazard to his line of work.
It was at best a distraction, bringing unrealistic dreams into the forefront. His formidable mental discipline had always succeeded in sublimating them.
But now, those remnants...those leftover feelings...
Burst into flame. One that would not be put out easily.
Images of...Sunset beaches...Passionate Lovemaking and sweaty bodies came into his mind.
Just like it was yesterday. Telling him that...
Natalya still held a special place in his heart.
He had felt this way once. With Tracy and Elektra. He had put personal feelings before business in those instances and the results were disastrous. People's lives had been lost, at great cost to himself.
A prime example came into mind. His wedding day.
They had been so happy. Tracy and himself. For a single moment, he had allowed himself to dream. Of a life of contentment and commitment. With Tracy is his arms, he thought they had all the time in the world.
They were wrong. A single blast had ended that dream.
It happened so quickly. Their car had swerved violently upon the blast. In the confusion, Bond strived to bring the car under control. He gritted his teeth in surprise. It was Blofeld. It had to be. Bond had recognized the SPECTRE Head's face immediately. How had he tracked Bond so quickly? SPECTRE must still have assets, Bond realized. The organization was far from finished. Much work needed to be done. Still it was disturbing that they would try something like this, so quickly. He would have to warn Tracy.
Bond turned his head to find...
His new wife dead.
Her passing had not been peaceful. The bullet had entered her forehead, snapping her head back violently. She had not seen it coming. Death had been instantaneous. The doctors would later say there had been little pain.
It was of small comfort.
As Bond held Tracy in his arms, his face buried in her neck, he thought about his life. And blamed him with a passion. He should have known better, Bond thought. There was danger everywhere. No Sanctuary. No Faraway island. He should never have brought her into his life.
There were no thoughts of revenge or fury. Only silent recrimations.
After the mourning, Bond made a vow. To himself. The past was dead. He would not allow it to hold him back.
Life beckoned him. There were pleasures to be discovered. Dangers to be faced.
He refused to give up.
Never again, however would he allow a woman to get too close to him. Tracy would be the last.
It was in this manner that he would protect them.
Bond now realized he was not meant for a normal life. He had enemies, many enemies. Any permanent relationships he had would place them in danger.
Mortal danger. He would not risk it for anyone.
The service would be his life. Till he could find peace. Until the world was a better place.
Strangely, the women in his life realized and understood that. They had seen it through his demeanor. In his manner in which he made love. Wild and unrestrained.
And that was the attraction. They had no illusions. This man would never have a family.
They knew this. Even accepted it to a degree. Bond would allow nothing tie him down.
It was not easy for Bond however. He had met many beautiful women across the years. Kara, Pam Bouvier, Anasova and Jinx. All of them worthy in their own right. They attracted Bond with their looks and their vibrant spirit. They were good women.
Bond went for them because he truly wished for their happiness. He sensed their attraction in him and reciprocated. He did not wish to hurt them. Bond was aware of his attractions, but promised nothing more. It was always unspoken. He did not have to say it, but the women got the message.
"Enjoy our time together. It may be our last." That was his motto. Bond followed his dictum to the letter, though at some personal cost to himself.
It was difficult. Deadening him to their advances, letting no one in. Many of those women were good people, who truly wished the best for him.
However with some regret, he had pushed them all aside.
It was simply what had to be done, and he hoped they understood.
All said and done however, some small part within him wished to feel again. To find a kindred mind that would share his fears and doubts. It was not easy. There were not many like him.
Not many at all.
Natalya was the closest one that fit the bill.
Looking at her now, Bond experienced a deep feeling of regret and longing. What could he say? To make her forgive him.
For a single moment, his precious resolve weakened and he entertained a fantasy that this woman...would open her heart to him again. Trusting him, like she did so many years ago.
Was it all truly a fantasy? Sometimes it sounded like a dream.
Natalya was a lady of magnificent proportions and yet...
There was a sadness in her. A deep one. Though incredibly ravishing, she now looked weather-beaten, tired...
Lost. Life had not been kind to her.
Natalya suddenly raised her head and gave Bond her measure. A soulful glance. It was a look of deep purpose and determination. Full of steel and grit. It held that sense of hidden strength and determination that allowed women around the world to face all the difficulties life could offer and triumph.
At a great cost to themselves.
Stunningly beautiful with sensuous lips and firm breasts. Natalya was every mans dream. She was dressed in a silky dress of star blue filtered with white stars. Her hair was short and curvy, bespeaking of elegance and professionalism. She was every man's dream.
Especially Bonds.
Their parting had not been in good grace. He had regretted it, but it was necessary.
He planned to tell her the truth. Someday.
"Dasvidanya, Mr. Bond" were her parting words.
Looking at her now brought back memories. Painful memories, stirring up within him feelings that had long stayed dormant.
Silent since Tracy's death. It was Magic. Deadly magic. There was a moment of awkward silence.
M looked at the two agents and wondered.
What was going on her? She had never seen Bond at a lost for words, especially before a woman. Herself included.
She had read the reports of course, and had known that a prior relationship had existed between the two of them. But at this moment, M realized she had underestimated the depth of it. This was something different.
M studied Natalya. The woman before her was beautiful no doubt. But what separated her from the others?
Shared experiences perhaps? Beauty was indeed the eye of the Beholder. This she felt provided an interesting clue to Bond's character.
One M would study it most carefully. It would be most useful in the future. She made a mental note to inform Moneypenny to make further investigations. This matter had to be handled carefully. It was an unspoken rule, that unless protocol was not broken, an agent's private life was his own. He had that right, at the very least. This was a special case however, M wanted to look out for this particular individual. Bond. She had slowly developed a fondness for him over the years. Though it would not prevent her from sending him to his death if required.
At that note, M decided to return to the business at hand. She already had many matters to attend to. Giving Bond a meaningful look, M continued her briefing,
"Well now that I see you've both met each other. I suggest we get back to business. This latest attack occurred near the Caspian Sea. I want the both of you to gather some intelligence. It is possible you might pick up something we missed."
Bond was the first to recover "Of course M". He calmly turned to face his colleague "Any problems, Natalya?"
Natalya was quick to the draw "None, Madam. I am sure Mr. Bond and I will work well together." Her accent was throaty and delicious.
Just as Bond remembered it.
M nodded. This would be interesting.
Listening in through the intercom, Moneypenny agreed. This indeed bore much watching. The MI6 secretary took out her personal phone and dialed in a number that was now most familiar to her.
"It's me. That matter we talked about? She's finally here." Moneypenny smiled.
Two days later- Baku- off the Caspian Sea
Warm rays of sunshine embraced Natalya as they embarked onto their destination. The wind blew in her hair, ruffling it lightly. It made Bond's heart race. Natalya was as beautiful as ever. Why had he ever given up on her? He wondered.
The fresh air gave Natalya a warm and heartening feeling. She embraced it fully, filling herself with its goodness and nurturing strength.
She would certainly need it later. Natalya looked sideways at her partner. As always, he seemed serene, calm. Undefeatable.
Natalya shook her head lightly. Despite the rumors, her old lover seemed the same since last she saw him. But many questions still lingered. She knew that he had undergone a "difficult" experience at a North Korean Prison for 14 months. Had the scars finally healed? What was behind that relaxed exterior? Turmoil? Relief?
No one could say.
Natalya turned her attention back to the road. It was best not to hearken back to the past. It brought nothing but pain and heartbreak to her. Natalya still remembered her last encounter with Bond. She had such hopes for them to be together, and yet...
He had broken her heart. Irrevocably. Perhaps even forever.
Unless she could forgive. She took a deep breathe. Her mind brought back memories. Good ones. That brightened her soul. Natalya gave a secret smile, pushing the ashes of the past away. The future was now. It was yet unwritten. Who knew what good fortune it would bring?
The scenery was breathtaking, rivaling that of the Caribbean. Her favorite vacation spot.
Bond was driving a new Aston Martin that Q Branch had provided for this occasion. All the "Normal" Accessories included of course. What was it equipped with? Natalya wondered. Amour plating. Surface to Air Missiles. Heads-Up Displays, to be sure. But what else?
She would soon find out.
The trip had been uneventful so far. Natalya and Bond had said little since the trip began. These two individuals had too much history between them. Harsh words had been passed. Things had been said, that could not be unsaid. Though they were in a mood to repair their future, this dynamic couple simply did not know where to begin. Words had to be chosen carefully, least the fragile balance between them be broken beyond measure.
Who would make the first move?
Surprisingly, it was Natalya that got the ball rolling,
She turned to Bond. Natalya gazed at him for a moment and a moment's hesitation asked "I heard about North Korea. Were you all right?" There was a tone of regret in her voice.
Bond felt a wave of emotion pass through him and reminisced...
It had been over 8 months since his release from a prisoner camp in North Korea. Captured during a mission and tortured, the incident had left visible scars on his body and in his mind. The entire experience had cost him dearly and it had taken the killing of Gustav Graves's aqua Colonel Zoo for his wounds to finally heal.
"Just the usual Vacation spots. The caviar was a little dry though." Bond remarked calmly. He gave no indication to the hidden turmoil within him.
Natalya stared at him silently without comment. She knew her old colleague well. He was hiding something? After a while she continued.
"When I heard what happened, I wanted to do something... Anything... To get you out...But nothing worked. Your Agency refused even to negotiate." She sounded desperate.
"There was nothing you could have done. That was how the game is played" Bond calmly said. There was not even a hint of bitterness in his voice. He truly understood.
These were the rules he and every agent in the service adhered to. He had early on reconciled to them. There were no regrets. None at all.
His calling was all that mattered.
To serve queen and country and protect the innocents of the world. A consummate professional, Bond had long ago realized that sacrifices had to be made and that he would pay them gladly.
Without a second thought. Everything else was justifiable.
Well almost everything. Bond would never willingly allow an innocent to come to harm. He had an ethical code that would not be broken. Not for anyone. Especially for the service.
Natalya could hear the sadness in Bond's voice. She understood. This was a man that had sacrificed much for his profession.
His family, friends and even his wife. Bond was a man in great pain. Even if he did not know it. That understanding however had come at a heavy price.
She had always wondered if it was worth it. Until now…
A wellspring of compassion rose from within her. In a moment of confusion, Natalya came to a sudden decision. She would try to heal that hurt. Or die trying.
Bond was after all a Colleague and a friend. Her feelings for him had not changed. Despite their disagreements and fights in the past, they shared a bond that would not be broken. It was unique. She would not give up on him.
"This is for you, James."
Natalya sensuously rose across her seat and slipped her arms around Bond. She gave him a passionate kiss. It was kind, homely, and full of hope for his future. Natalya wished him the best, sending her warmth throughout his body.
It scintitillated Bond, sending tremors of pleasure through him. Bond realized he had never experienced anything like this before. He had had tender feelings for women before. But never quite like this. It was a sensual and extraordinary feeling. Bond placed his fingers on the nap of Natalie's neck caressing her soft skin. It emboldened her, sending her into frenzy. There was a scent in the air. Of anticipation and extreme desire. Natalya responded with surprising aggressiveness. She drank him in fully. Her lips moaning in anticipation, she strove to entrust her entire body to him. To submit herself to his ministrations. Damming the consequences. She did not wish this to end. Ever.
But reason took over.
In a dim corner of her mind, Natalya knew they had to stop. There was a time and place for everything. This was not it. She could the ground move in motion around her. It was vital that Bond return his attention to driving. There was no way in her mind she wanted to end her life in an accident. In the line of duty perhaps.
But not this way.
Fortunately for her, Bond realized this as well. The pace of his movements slowed, taming her down. Natalya gave a sigh of relief. He was a professional. A quick glance into his eyes told her that more would be in store. This was not the end. There would be a conclusion to the dance they were in. It would be something they would explore together in the future.
As a result, slowly and with much regret, the two lovers disentangled from the brink taking further measure of each other.
There was a strange smile on Natalya's face. "I expected that."
Bond returned the gesture "Not all your heroes are dead. Remember?"
Bond was referring to their memorable discussion they had on a beach in the Caribbean. At midst palm shores and creamy waves, the two of them had talked about life. Bond's life in particular. About the choices he made and what they had cost him.
"All the Heroes are dead" was her motto in life then.
It had been drilled into her since her poverty stricken days in Moscow. She had believed in it fervently. Survival was all she could think of. High ideals were for dreamers.
That was not to say she did not care about others. She did.
Natalya simply covered her caring and kind heart with a veneer of cynicism. It did not fool her colleagues and friends of course. They perfectly understood.
One had to pretend not to care in order to survive. Especially in Russia.
And so this was Natalya's life. A constant forage for food and warmth. Of hunger and starvation. Russia taught a young Natalya bitter lessons of tolerance and compassion.
It showed her how little of it there was and how important that it be protected. At all cost.
Nothing else mattered.
Thus she was at heart a crusader. A fighter. Natalya was alike Bond in that respect.
They were both sensitive to the realities of the world around them. And yet they were ready to help. To make the painful sacrifices needed to make the world a better place.
Nothing could be more noble, in their mind.
However, before Natalya met Bond, she still lacked faith. Both in herself and the people around her. It was understandable. Adversity had left its mark on her.
While, she had always tried to help others in their time of need, Natalya had always felt skeptical of them.
She did not expect gratitude. No tearful hugs, No declarations of undying friendship. Nothing in fact. Deep down she knew they would not reciprocate.
And she was right. Life did not disappoint her. Pain and betrayal abounded with no end in sight.
There were no heroes.
At least, none that she could find.
Bond changed all that. His presence proved that heroes did live and that they existed all around her. She just had to look. And believe.
Natalya studied her British colleague. Bond was unlike any man she had encountered before. A true enigma. There was a magnetism about him that made him almost superhuman.
What was his secret? What drove him? Natalya had a fair idea.
Death defying stunts. Razor cool reflexes. The man had an incredible aura about him.
Bond
possessed a sense of true humanity that was invaluable.
And it was
that particular quality that attracted women. That stirred their
hearts.
Even if they knew; they had no future with him.
"We always seek the unattainable" Natalya remised quietly.
The man before her had been married once. Tracy Di Vicenzo. Daughter of Marc Ange Draco. The leader of the Union Corse in Europe. A most beautiful girl, with a touch of fiery independence in her eyes. She had also been the first to truly steal Bond's heart.
Natalya had long divined this when she perused Bond's file in her service.
Would she have satisfied Bond? Would they have been happy? Natalya would never know. An Assassin's bullets had taken Tracy's life during their wedding day together. Seeing the torment on Bond's face as he cradled his dead wife in his arms was heartrending. A picture indeed spoke a thousand words.
There were still issues
Bond had rarely talked about Tracy. During their time together, Natalya had asked about her. She was curious about this woman. Fascinated by her.
Bond had cut her off abruptly when Natalya asked about her. The subject was sacronest to him. Not to be discussed further.
What was it about her? That made her special. Beyond all of Bond's female acquaintances. After all, she was the only woman who Bond had taken into that most final of unions.
Marriage.
Natalya wrenched herself back to the present. There would certainly be time to ponder on this matter later.
Natalya smirked and gave Bond a strange glance. A great deal of time indeed. I
If Bond would allow it.
That was for the future however, there was a more urgent piece of business at hand.
"So…How long before we reach Baku?" Natalya asked.
"In about 20 minutes. There's an old friend I have to meet there." Bond accelerated his vehicle sharply, causing the sharp winds to gently ruffle Natalya's hair.
The young Russian agent said nothing. Bond could however tell Natalya was brightened by the prospect of danger and excitement. An inner light in her eyes told Bond she wanted some stimulation to lift her from the sadness she felt. It was strange…
Knowing Natalya's stellar reputation, Bond had expected a more measured response from her. Why this emotion? Bond studied Natalya's beautiful face intently. What was hiding beneath those depths? Those green eyes? Resentment? Anger? Or…just simple nervousness. After a moment, Bond gave the equivalent of a mental shrug.
Natalya would reveal her intentions in good time. Bond was sure of that. Natalya would never attempt anything that would jeopardize their mission.
She was far too much of a professional for that.
Despite the circumstances of their last parting. Bond had kept an interest in Natalya's doings. He told himself that it was just simple curiosity, but it fooled no one. Not M, Q or Moneypenny. A glimmer of an obsession was on the verge of being born.
Could the great 007 be interested in a mere slip of a girl?
Bond never denied it to himself. It was a hallmark of his character as an agent. A cold honesty. Despite all the risks he took, Bond had always considered every option at his disposal. He weighed every each of their pros and cons.
Whether or not he followed them, was another matter. As M would attest, Bond's judgment was not always sound.
As was the case here.
Baku-
It was an interesting city. Home to over a million mobsters and criminals. It was the heartland of Russia's new Crime Driven society. It was a veritable Disneyland. A perfect symbolization of the corruption of Mother Russia, thought Natalya.
Anything could be had and bought. For a price. Even innocence.
"Who exactly are we meeting, James?" asked Natalya.
"Valentine Zukovsky, an old "acquaintance" of mine. He can provide us with a few answers" replied Bond.
"I've heard of him. An Ex-KGB operative. Gone before my time. He's gone to business for himself, the last I heard."
"That's right. He's well connected in Baku, and most importantly he owns me a few favors. We could use his help."
Natalya studied him carefully "So where do we start?"
"With some food and sleep at the Hotel. I am starved. We'll meet him later at his Casino. Rest assured he'll be ecstatic to see us. You'll Stun him"
"I am sure." drawled Natalya. This day was indeed shaping up nicely.
They checked into the Hotel LuDuvic. It was Baku's oldest and most elegant establishment.
The Concierge there recognized Bond at sight and welcomed him with open arms.
"Mr. Bond! Welcome back! It is always a pleasure to see you. Will you be having your usual suite as always? We have everything ready as you left it"
"Thank you Rene. Would you send up some Caviar and Champaign to our room? We are famished."
"Of course Mr. Bond." He turned to Natalya "I assume you and the young lady will be staying together."
"Mademoiselle would prefer to stay in a separate room." injected Natalya imperiously.
She turned to Bond calmly "If Mr. Bond does not mind, of course."
Bond nodded. "Two rooms close together and Rene?"
"Yes, Mr. Bond?" asked Rene.
"Please arrange for some transportation. We will be going out for dinner later together."
"Of course, Mr. Bond."
Bond turned to Natalya "I hope you don't mind the little gift I left you?" He smiled mischievously "I had it specially prepared to your specifications."
Natalya grinned "I see you remembered."
The dress was a work of beauty. It fit her perfectly, accenting her figure.
Light blue with silky threads. It reminded Natalya of the ocean and its deep waves.
Natalya wondered how much it had cost Bond to get it. It was certainly beyond her means of income. She decided to thank Bond when they met later.
Now to the sordid task at hand.
Unbuttoning her filthy clothes, Natalya slipped her nude form into the shower. The fresh water rinsed the grime from her exquisite body, raising memories from her past.
Interesting memories. To be told.
She had come a long way indeed from that plucky girl from Severnaya.
Many changes had been made.
Some not all for the better. But most had been necessary.
The New Order presented new challenges and dangers. Its protectors had to step up to the plate.
One had to adapt or die. Natalya made the change easily, thanks to Bond.
The Goldeneye adventure had awakened the spirit of adventure in her.
Making her more confident and assured. It was uncanny.
Natalya discovered latent gifts within her. Strengths that she had never realized before.
It was these qualities, which had led her to apply as a fledgling agent in the New Russian Intelligence.
Natalya Simonova needed a purpose in life. Being a spy seemed ideal.
She certainly had enough personal experience acting like one.
They had been skeptical of her at first. Though a stunning beauty, they were yet unsure of Natalya's fortitude. She had officially never served in the field, nor she had any military training.
Could she maintain her composure in danger? Would she panic?
No one could say.
In the end, she had proven them all wrong. Natalya surprised her instructors by testing out at the head of her class in every subject with perfect scores. She was one of a kind.
They had never seen anyone like her before.
Finally Natalya was sent on her first field assignment.
It was a difficult one. Her mission was to retrieve a unique code cipher from a Russian mob boss. A key to Russia's innermost secrets, the cipher machine could not be allowed to fall into the wrong hands.
The Mafia had already too much power in New Russia as it was.
Intelligence indicated the cipher machine was carefully guarded in a vault safe at an old Italian Cathedral. Natalya was given this mission due to her extensive experience with codes and computers. She began by studying her target and his safe house.
After meticulously going through the data, Natalya slowly came to a single conclusion.
Her only way in was through undercover.
As it turned out, the Crime Boss had a weakness for women. An Insatiable need, in fact. Natalya proposed they take advantage of that particular weakness. After all, the best way to access a man's secrets was through a woman's feminine wiles.
The beautiful ex-computer programmer explained her plan. Natalya would slip through the opposition's defenses through the subtle impersonation of a famed Italian Courtesan which the unfortunate Crime Boss long had his eyes on. Once seduced and rendered helpless, Natalya would begin steps to…encourage her victim to talk.
It was a tantalizing notion. Simple and yet elegant. Natalya's superiors were intrigued.
Still...
Would Natalya be able to pull it off? Her superiors considered all the variables.
Natalya had several things in her favor. Her beauty was one thing. Without a doubt, Natalya was a stunner. The best looking woman in the Russian Intelligence agency. Adding to that, Natalya possessed a natural grace about her and spoke Italian excellently.
She was the perfect candidate
Through the benefits of hard currency saved, Natalya studied tapes, voice recordings of the courtesan she was impersonating and the latest fashion tips. Natalya immersed herself totally into this new world. Walking the walk. Talking the talk. Learning everything she could on the subject. No expense was spared. The mission was of the highest importance. Russia's national security was at stake.
Once again, Natalya Simonova began the process of remaking herself. This time in the service of her nation.
Natalya found the entire process most intriguing. She was creating within herself an entirely different persona. Cut off from her former friends and family, Natalya had little difficulty in submerging herself in this new role. It was much easier than she thought.
She had always wanted to be another person. To leave her past behind. To get a fresh start.
In the end, the mission went off without a hitch. There were no complications at all.
Textbook.
The Crime Boss never knew what had hit him. One moment he watching a gorgeous woman undulate before him. The next minute, he was out cold.
A nerve pinch to the neck would do that. Natalya thought.
After that, it was a simple matter of cracking the safe and destroying the cipher machine. The guards had not suspected a thing. In fact, she had calmly waved at them before she left, leaving behind only a perfumed handkerchief with her initials on it. Her calling card.
After all, Natalya reasoned. If one had to make an exit. One should do it in style.
Natalya's superiors were mildly impressed.
As a result, Natalya's reputation grew. It was inevitable. Her shrewd planning and daring exploits became renowned through the entire intelligence community. Natalya amazed everyone with her beauty and dedication. Lauded loudly by her superiors, Natalya was fast becoming a legend in her own time.
In fact, Natalya sometimes wished that…
At that point, the young Russian slowly chastened herself. Humility was the best course here. It never paid to be too arrogant. You had to be prepared for the unexpected. Surprises were always easier to deal with when you allowed yourself for their occurrence. Disregarding it made one sloppy and careless.
A literal death sentence for any agent.
The alarm on her watch brought Natalya back to the present. Time certainly flew when you were not expecting it. Another example of poor readiness. Natalya silently berated herself. The re-appearance of Bond had left her off balance. While Natalya welcomed Bond's participation in this mission, emotion-wise she was conflicted. There were still many unresolved issues existing between them.
With a sigh, Natalya quickly dried herself with a towel and put on her exquisite evening gown.
"A fine attire indeed most appropriate for this evening" thought Natalya as she viewed herself carefully in a mirror. Her dexterous fingers running through the silky fabric that now enfolded her.
The dress was a marvel in dressmaking. It fit Natalya like a queen. Meaning it had class and stature. All that was missing was a tiara and a jewel ring.
Natalya smirked. As always Bond had maintained his good taste.
In both women and clothes. His good judgment would serve them well today. Natalya looked out her window.
It was a busy evening, and crowds of wealthy socialites could be seen scurrying about. With their fur coats on, they were like a host of lemmings flocking to the ocean. Natalya shook her head in disgust. Would they never learn? The dispossessed of the world needed their help.
Depravity and Corruption ruled. Enemies to freedom abounded. They had to be stopped. And she and others like her would be the ones to do it.
One corrupter at a time. Natalya took a deep breathe; thoughts like this always excited her. However, she had an endeavor to attend to now. It would have been rude to be late.
She met Bond later down at the lobby. As always he was dressed immaculately in a black tuxedo. It fit him like a second skin, showcasing his already dangerous edge.
"You're looking well, My Darling. Shall we begin?' said Bond
"Let's get down to business." replied Natalya dryly.
Bond smiled. Taking her hand into his, Bond escorted Natalya to a chauffeured Rolls Royce. It bespoke of respectability and refinement. Of the finest taste available.
Natalya gave Bond a quizzical look. Why this sudden display of opulence? Did this particular situation merit it?
"I only travel with the best." Bond explained as he helped her in. A flash of comprehension illuminated Natalya. They truly would be judged on their appearances here. First impressions were vital. Natalya and Bond truly had to look the part. Their very lives depended on it.
As the Rolls Royce sped off into the night, Natalya became lost in her own thoughts. She took the opportunity to enjoy the night sky, drinking in the magnificent view. It was unbelievable in its rawness.
The beauty of the night had always enchanted her. Its seductive allure drew Natalya in, embracing her within its tender touch. Natalya closed her eyes in quiet deliberation. She needed this opportunity to settle her mind. To find an equilibrium within herself. Moments like this were always in short supply.
Understanding her situation immediately, Bond left Natalya alone to her thoughts. A gentleman at heart, he respected her privacy.
Up to a point, anyway.
Their arrival at the casino was silent and without fanfare. Amidst the bustling crowd, the duo seemed plain and unnoticed. Unlikely, as it may have seemed. People after all had an amazing capacity for self delusion. A lesson the two agents had learned well.
It was their profession after all.
Bond gave Natalya a glance and nodded. Things were going to plan. Low profile was the muster of the day. No unwanted complications were needed.
Bond began to lead the way in, with Natalya's arm in his shoulder. It was a crowded night, with the cream of Baku's society in attendance. Bond recognized many of them. Politicians and corrupt gangsters. Many were dangerous personalities, which he had tangled before in the past.
He fervently hoped none of them recognized him tonight. There would be hell to pay.
Natalya and Bond made their way through the crowd to Zukovsky's head office. The two friends had an aura about them. They were leaders of their field. Predators of their Pack Inspiring dominance and awe with a single glance. They knew they were outclassed.
Committed to a single purpose, the two individuals strode with grim purpose towards their goal.
Woe, be to anyone who got in their way.
Bond studied his partner. Natalya returned his gaze expressionlessly. Her features were calm and collected. Nevertheless, there was a dangerous gleam in Natalya's eyes that Bond found most…familiar.
Then it suddenly hit him. Natalya had raised herself to a new level of being. A far cry indeed from the delicate girl Bond knew many years ago.
She was strong, mature and determined. Much like himself, now that Bond thought about it.
It was a disturbing thought.
Bond quickly turned his minds to other matters. More pressing ones, in fact. Would Zukovsky still be receptive to him? They were still rivals, after all. Still Bond had saved Zukovsky's life on several occasions.
Baku certainly came to mind.
Bond still remembered seeing Zukovsky's shirt in tatters, his heart's blood seeping away. It was most fortunate that Elektra King was no marksman. Her bullet had missed Zukovsky's heart by inches, impacting against the hard cartilage near the muscle. Still, it had been touch and go for a while, Zukovsky was in serious condition for weeks, before his bullish constitution pulled him through.
A sheer miracle in fact, considering the bad food and cigarettes Zukovsky consumed. The ex-KGB agent was much alike Bond in that respect.
They both had bad habits. Women in Bond's case. Caviar and gambling in Zukovsky's.
In actual fact, it was M who had saved the bleeding Zukovsky. After freeing her from her cell, M had quickly taken stock of the situation, searching the grounds, contacting the proper authorities. Performing a simple tourniquet to stench the bleeding, M had arranged Zukovsky to be removed from the scene before the authorities arrived to the hospital. A consummate professional, M had been long aware of his rivalry with Bond. In this manner, he owned MI6 and Bond a favor.
And now Bond was here to collect.
The two agents arrived before an ornate room with a bull-like insignia upon it. There was a muscular bodyguard standing guard. Bond thought he looked remarkably like Zukovsky's late bodyguard Bull. Thirty years of age, he seemed fit as a whip and lethal to boot. The guard gave looked at Bond impassively.
"James Bond to see Zukovsky."
"Mr. Zukovsky is indisposed at present." said the guard emotionlessly. His eyes did not leave Bond.
"Is he now?" Bond said calmly. "I think I'll take a look." His voice hardened "Best you stand out of my way."
The guard's eyes gleamed with fury. His muscles tensed
Danger was in the air. Any bystander could sense it.
Natalya folded her arms, and simply earned against the wall in silent anticipation. It had been some time, since she had seen her British colleague in action.
This would be good.
A trained fighter, Bond already detected the sparks of violence emerging from the guard.
It was an uncanny sixth sense which had served him well in the past. It certainly did not fail him now.
Bond decided he would let him make the first move.
In a flurry of motion, the guard performed a corkscrew strike towards Bond's chest. It was rapid and coordinated for maximum impact. There was not one of five men in the world who could evade it.
Unfortunately, Bond was one of them.
Stepping to one side, the blow missed Bond by inches. Using its momentum, Bond threw the unfortunate guard further off balance. The turn of the tide had come.
His fists in a blur, Bond took immediate advantage of the situation.
He subjected the guard to a series of body shots which hit with tremendous effect, breaking bones and cartilage. No vital organs though.
Natalya nodded in appreciation. Bond's punches were aimed to disable, not harm his opponent. He still held a respect for human life and that was fortunate. There was little need to go overboard.
The unfortunate guard dropped onto the floor in an embarrassing heap.
"Let's get down to business"
He and Natalya proceeded to step over the unconscious guard. They did not even bother to look down.
Their instincts, told them the guard was alright. No permanent damage had been done.
The click of the door opened to reveal a jovial fat man spreading caviar on a loaf of white bread. He seemed unsurprised to see Bond.
"My Dear Bond Come in. I have been expecting you. A shot of vodka perhaps?" He hurried to get Bond a drink. Bond shook his head.
"I'll have to pass, Zukovsky. I am here on business." He replied dryly.
"Ah yes. Perhaps you like to introduce me your charming friend." Zukovsky slowly sat by his desk.
Natalya wasted no time in presenting herself, "Natalya Simonova, at your service." She gave Zukovsky a respectful nod and handshake. Taking her hand calmly, the EX-KGB man presented Natalya with a chaste kiss on the chin.
It was a standard Russian greeting. Bond himself was hardly impressed.
Zukovsky gave him a radiant smile "THE Natalya Simonova?" he turned to Bond in surprise "Your taste in women has indeed risen, my friend."
He gazed at Natalya with awe "I've heard of her exploits for some time. A most formidable woman." Natalya nodded in appreciation.
"I am sure you have, Zukovsky. " Bond replied flatly "But it is another matter that has brought me here today."
"Well...I am all ears, Bond. What trouble brings you to my little part of town?" Zukovsky asked smoothly. Unwrapping the cellophane off a rich Cuban cigar, he bit off its tip and puffed contently. Bond and Natalya merely stared at him silently, their expressions grim and expecting.
"This should be interesting", Zukovsky thought absently.
To be continued
