"Friendly Bullet To The Heart"
PART I
By Jonathan Urban
February 7, 2000
(DISCLAIMER: All Characters Property of UA/MGM)
"Bond, you might as well be a good old chap and tell me..."
Bond looked up from the chair he was strapped in. Drugged, beat and bleeding--it was a major accomplishment raising his head. "...and be a...traitor like...you?" The punch rendered Bond unconscious and regretting his last words.
Bond woke up in a cell of some sort. It was damp and dark--void of any real light. He was lying on a bed--if you could call it that. He looked around the room and figured at most the cell was several meters wide and very narrow. He glanced at his only possession left--his watch. He had been in here for an hour since the last time he checked. Why did time only go by fast when you were having fun, he managed a grin. The only opening in the room was a small square panel in the door. He rose and walked to it and peered out--one guard that he could see--good.
Bond pressed a button on his watch which made a beeping sound and he took hiding over to the side out of view. Like he could read the guards' mind, he soon heard the door creaking open, and saw the barrel of the gun leading into the room. With only precision skill bind leapt towards the guard and kicked the gun out of his hand and broke the guards' neck with the very same precision.
The clothes fit a little baggy, but would do to disguise him for a bit, Bond decided. He made his way down the corridor. No one in sight--that was always good, Bond thought to himself--or perhaps he thought too soon. Bond dove down another corridor, rolling on the floor to avoid the gunfire. Go Bond, go! He ran down the corridor and felt a bullet whiz by his head--too close, much too close. Bond felt as though he were in a maze as the corridors went on and on.
Finally, an elevator--but, damn--it required a key. Bond looked quickly around and spotted an air duct over to the side near the floor. He held his watch close to it and a laser beam emitted, cutting right through the lock. The air duct cover fell to the floor and Bond crawled in, and replaced the cover behind him as carefully as possible.
He heard heavy footsteps coming his way, so he crawled faster down the duct--which was a mistake as the floor of the duct beneath him gave, and he fell down into a room onto a table--a table with guards sitting around it, eating on their lunch break. He wasn't quite as stunned as the guards eating their lunches were. They all reached for their guns. "My deepest apologies..." Bond wiped the food from his clothes, "...but if you don't mind the expression, the food is on me...and you." Bond lifted up the table and everything came flying at the guards. He left the room immediately.
"Get him now!" the Chief Guard shouted, as he wiped lettuce from his face. Bond made his way down another corridor, however, now he knew where he was going. Bond went around a corner only to find a guard right there. He acted quickly and assumed the guards' weapon. He finally made it outside. Before him he saw several tanks, jeeps, and an airplane--more like a personal jet.
"Bond, you surprise even me." Bond looked to his left.
"Pincer..." Bond aimed his weapon at him "How much are you getting for betraying your country and MI6?"
"Would you be offended if I said I am doing it for my own pleasure?"
"Not you, Pincer...only if money and power were involved."
"Bond, have you never thought what it would be like to not have to risk your life day to day for others? I worked for MI6 for twenty years, achieved a 00 rank and saved queen and country many times, and for what? A pat on the back from M? Please James, don't insult me. I risked my life and now I want to retire...and in style. What do you think of my new jet?"
"Pincer, I have to bring you back one way or the other. I thought out of professional courtesy and an old friendship, I would bring you back alive. But nonetheless, I will bring you back."
"Good old 007, no wonder you don't have any friends...it's always the mission first. Well Bond...Ciao," Pincer rolled behind crates, out of the way of Bond's firing. Bond soon realized he was not alone in firing--the whole base was on alert. Bond ran towards the tanks for cover. he returned fire and sent one guard to the ground. Bond kept an eye on his ammo--he was running low. He quickly surveyed the scene--the jet--only option. Bond eased around the side of the tank, took a deep breath, and ran towards the jet. Bullets were flying everywhere.
Bond made it to the stairs leading up to the jet. At the top of the stairs he turned and fired at some strategic spots--namely some fuel canisters and explosives. The whole place was on fire and Bond was at the pilot seat, starting up the engines. The jet moved under his control down the off ramp to the runway. He skipped most of the pre-flight preliminaries so that he could get in the air without taking to many bullets. As the jet rolled down the runway, over to the right he could see a tank moving to block him. Immediately his eyes shot to the left and saw another tank moving to block the runway. Think James, think.
Of course he had to be in an aircraft without weapons, he thought how ironic. He turned the jet to the right and tried to make a path for the jet to take off. The tanks were on his left now, moving along and catching up. He lost one of the tanks from his sight. One was on the left of him--ah, there it is, he saw the other one on his right. They were trying to sandwich him. Bond had been in many predicaments, but he saw that this one would end soon--along with his life--if he didn't act fast.
The sight of a single jet airplane and tanks on either side of it, was definitely an odd one to say the least. Bond put the jet on autopilot to keep it in a straight path--hoping their were no unforeseen bumps. He made it to the back cabin and opened the rear cabin door. He could see the tank down below. Now or never--he jumped to the tank and landed hard and painfully on the tank. In moments, the jetplane would move and the tank drivers would know something was wrong. Bond worked quickly. He opened the driver hatch and went in gun blazing. The driver jerked the steering column as he dropped to the side, dead. Another tank engineer was further back and met the same fate.
Bond quickly gained control of the tank, right before the unmanned jetplane swerved out of alignment, crashing into the tanks' massive cannon. The explosion was devastingly loud, but to Bond's surprise the tank was so massive it took the explosion with ease. Now Bond was side to side with the other tank. He steered the tank into the other one. This was quite a jolt to the other tank driver--mainly because he thought it was his friend doing the deed. Then like a cold shower he realized Bond must of jumped to the tank and was not killed in the plane explosion. He reciprocated the collision.
Bond knew that the border was several miles north, and he was currently going north. So all he had to do was ward off this tank and head straight. Easier said than done. He felt a blast hit the back of the tank. It was a jet fighter. Great, Bond thought. He put the tank in the fastest gear and continued playing bumper cars with the other tank. Then he saw his opportunity--he slammed on the breaks while the jet flew overhead. He put the tank on auto, and went back to the turret. He aimed and shot--no more jet. He turned the turret towards the other tank, and fired without hesitation. The tank came to a stop, smoking and on fire. Bond got back to the driving controls and went full speed ahead...smiling to himself. "They just don't make tanks like they used to."