Chapter 1: Cheshire Street

Glancing behind him to check that he was indeed alone, James pulled out his mobile phone and checked the text message again. Confirming that he was in the right street he began to count the steel doors on his right hand side, one two, three…four. The message told him to use the small door on the right hand side of the fourth lock up entrance. Squinting through the heavy drizzle that was falling across London he confirmed that he was alone in the poorly lit street one last time before slowly opening the smaller door on the right, built into a larger metal frame. Ducking inside he was surprised to find the room lit and empty, the neighbouring buildings were registered as storage areas for local market traders. This one, however, didn't seem to exist. Exhaling the breath he had been holding since opening the outer door, James noticed a doorway at the very back of the high ceilinged area, there was a light beyond it. Keeping one hand on the handgun holstered under his shoulder, beneath his tailored black woollen coat, he moved stealthily forward. Carefully James began his journey down the wide concrete steps, the design of them was familiar, but he keeps his attention focused on the bend at the bottom of this flight, ever ready for what he may face beyond it. Swinging round, weapon poised in front of him he finds nothing but the next flight of steps. Glancing behind him, James frowns realising why the stairwell seems so familiar; the tiles on the wall are plain except for the coloured ones that form a tube station logo, reading: 'Cheshire Steet'.

Continuing with silent footsteps James reaches the bottom, facing an archway that leads onto an obviously idle platform. Questions stream through James' mind, deciding it is the only way to find the answers he continues ahead.

"I wasn't sure you would come" The statement takes James by surprise, for the simple fact it was made by a female. Emerging from the shadows at the far end of the platform she almost smiles.

"You're Mattie?" James questions, his eyebrows rising slightly. The woman nods in reply.

"You were expecting a man?" her lips curl at the corners, reading his mind "It's a nickname" Mattie steps forward. James eyes her coolly, internally analysing everything about her. He notices that she is only a little shorter than himself, and that her knee length, leather boots are only slightly heeled. Her legs are slender and muscled, encased in thin black tights before they disappear under her navy blue, mid-thigh length winter coat – which is immaculate like his own. The coat fits well, and displays the outline of her slim figure. Pursing his lips slightly, he notices that she is wearing black leather gloves – no fingerprints, what could she have planned for him, he wants to chuckle, he too is wearing black leather gloves. Moving above her hands, he appraises Mattie's face. It's pretty, beautiful pale skin, piercing blue/grey eyes and all of her features are framed by honey blonde hair that falls just below her shoulders, which seems to be curling into unruly waves as it dries after being exposed to the rain. He tries to guess her age, it's impossible, she only looks to be in her twenties, but the serious expression and sadness that sits in her eyes make her appear older than her years.

"You didn't think I'd show up?"

"Let me see? You get a message from a stranger demanding an urgent meeting alone with you, before dawn, in what turns out to be a deserted and unused tube station. I think I would have been dubious about attending – or at least in your line of work I would consider bringing the cavalry." She reasons simply.

"Quite, but I am alone and now curious, perhaps you could enlighten me" He lowers his weapon slightly.

"I need help. And I think you may be the only person that I can turn to 007" Mattie sighs at the confession, whilst James stiffens at the use of his code name.

"Why and how would I help you?" James questions, watching Mattie as she wanders over to a neglected bench and sits crossing her willowy legs.

"Because you love your country and your job – and more to the point you are excellent at it. Let me explain the situation. Raul Silva was responsible for the carnage that killed M and exposed MI6's major flaws and weaknesses. But he wasn't always acting alone. He had associates who helped him when he first escaped the Chinese after surviving the cyanide pill. These people are enemies of the British government and security services, Silva has shown them that they can have revenge."

"The weaknesses he exposed have and are being rectified, what makes you think there is any risk from these people?"

"Recent intelligence. They also have someone on the inside – I don't know who but I intend to find out. Things are being hidden from Mallory, he has no idea how much danger is heading his way." Mattie stares straight into James' eyes, before handing him a silver memory stick "Take this, it might help you make a decision. The files on there were all deleted from MI6's system recently, before they could be passed onto the appropriate people. As well as some other information that I have discovered elsewhere. Don't access them on a device that has access to the MI6 system, just in case they can be traced. All I ask is that you destroy the stick if you decide not to help me." James considers her words slowly – if she is earnest then she could be exposing herself by revealing her knowledge to him. On the other hand it could be an elaborate trap.

"How could you possibly know all this?"

"Don't panic 007 – I'm 004" Mattie explains. Ahhhh the mysterious 004, James acknowledges mentally. "I know that this is a lot to ask and take in."

"I take it you haven't spoken to Mallory about this." James perches on the bench, leaving some distance between them.

"No, I don't know if I can trust him yet. He could be involved. Even if he isn't he'd allow us to apprehend the mole and deal with the new threat; but he wouldn't allow us to have revenge for my grandmother's murder!" The venom in Mattie's voice is discernible on the final two words. James is surprised and confounded.

"But I didn't know your grandmother"

"Yes you did – you just knew her as 'M'"