When Vesper came back to her office, she found on her desk an envelope containing the plane and train tickets, 500 pounds in cash, the Bond's biography and a sheet with all details about her trip. She took a photo of the MI6 agent's portrait with her Sony smartphone to be able to recognize him at the train station. Then she read the biography.
James Bond
Born in 1968.
Father: Andrew Bond (Glencoe, Scottland).
Mother: Monique Delacroix (Geneva, Switzerland).
Both his parents were killed in an accident in the Aiguilles Rogues (Massif de Chamonix, France) in 1979.
Travelled extensively with his parents and by this time fluent in Frenc, Italian and German.
Raised by his aunt Miss Charmian Bond (Pett Bottom, Canterbury, Kent).
Sent to Eton but removed after some "alleged" troubles.
Went to Fettes College, Edinburgh and University of Geneva.
IQ : 157.
After 5 years left the Royal Navy with the rank of Commander.
Joined the 030 Special Forces Unit (mainly Irak and Bosnia)
Graduated in oriental languages at University of Cambridge and Oxford. Skills in Greek, Spanish, Chinese and Japanese.
Joined the MI6 in 2001.
Licensed to kill in January 2006.
Lifestyle:
Prefered meal : breakfast.
Likes caviar and sole meunière.
Integral knowledge of wines and spirits.
One episode of alcoholism treated in rehab for one month. No relapse reported.
No drug abuse.
Physical training: 4 hours a day (fitness, running and shooting).
Private Life:
Pathologic womanizer.
Never get married.
No sexual vice reported.
No homosexual experience known.
After reading, Vesper asked herself if James Bond had the same information about her. She supposed yes.
She took her smartphone and called her boyfriend. Disappointed, she only got the answering machine. "Hello, it's me. I just got a mission in a foreign country. Very touchy. A real opportunity for me. I'm not allowed to tell you more about for the moment. I have to take a plane early in the afternoon. If you get my message before two o'clock, please call me back." She made a pause of less than a half second and added "I love you. Bye." She immediately regretted his last words. Hakim, her half Moroccan boyfriend, never said the words before and she was afraid she spread them too early and inappropriately in their relationship. No matters, what is done is done.
It was ten when she left Horse Guard Road. She took a cab and ask the driver to leave her 49, Pavilion Road. She entered in the Christian Door Press Office and asked to see Mister Hawke, giving her business card. Sydney Hawke was a good friend of her, PR for Christian Dior Couture. He arrived less than five minutes after she introduced her to the receptionist.
- Vesper, what brings you here, he said her with a big smile kissing theatrically the air around her cheeks.
- Sydney, old chap, I need you.
- I knew one day a beauty like you will need a man like me.
- You are a visionary, she laughed. I just got my first mission today, the kind of mission where a really smart gown is requested and I don't want to mess up. Do you think you can lend one of the press stock to me? I will need it for four days, maybe one week.
- For you, beauty, I'm going to get a stunning one. Follow me.
Vesper noted down in her mind to return the favor one day. They entered in a room where dozens of dresses were hanged on stands.
- Let's see in there. I remember a last year black gown which would suit you like a glove on a hand. Here it is, he exclaimed pulling off the mess one with a plunging neckline. With breasts like yours, men are going to kill each other to get the honor to be your date. Try it on !
The velvet outfit smelled luxury and simplicity. When she slipped it on, her pale skin seemed to enlighten.
- Darling, it would be a crime to not choose it. This gown is made for you, rhapsodize Sydney.
- Hyperbole is the name of your job, my friend, laughed Vesper.
- Hyperbole is the other name of your boobs, he replied hugging her.
- Thank you, Sydney. This gown is a huge level on my career ladder.