A/N I don't own anything! Including Bond…enjoy!
Chapter 3 - The 00
Location: MI6 Headquarters, London, England – 36 hours later after agent tactical insertion
M sat in the information centres (IC) conference room; a large, glass panelled room at the end of a larger room housing the organisations information gatherers. Banks upon banks of ordered rows of desks neatly sat next to each other facing a wall of television screens. Any observer could have mistaken the room as a telemarketing floor in a high rise. The information gatherers here however were collecting and collating details on a hundred different operations, targets, field agents and their countries allies.
Some of the huge fifty inch monitors on the far wall displayed news channels, others target and operative information and some displaying satellite movements and information. Or all could be joined to make one massive screen the size of a small lounge' floor plan.
Out of the corner of her eye she could see the headline on the BBC News channel which caught her interest – the middle aged man sitting at his news desk with a stern, weathered and unsmiling face sat reading the news off the unseen teleprompter. The subtitles of his speech read "the "body of aid worker killed in a car crash in Turkey – Jason Monroe flown back to the UK today. The funeral service will be held tomorrow in Cambridge" it was short and uninteresting, just how she wanted it to be; a news story that would be forgotten about by tomorrow when some celebrity gave birth or the results of the latest sporting event would become more important.
If only the poor fools knew the truth about who the man, who's smiling image, amongst a dozen African children; a photo shopped image of course, actually was and what he was involved in trying to stop.
"Ma'am, is everything OK?" said the man to her left, he had dark hair, soft brown eyes and a triangular jaw. He wore a dark navy suit, white shirt, blue tie combination. Bill Tanner had been her aide for years, and knew when she was distracted.
"Fine Tanner" said M, snapping back into reality and checked her watch, "When the bloody hell is he going to get here, we've already been waiting for over fifteen minutes".
"He'll be here momentarily Ma'am, I've just had Ms. Walters…on the front desk…contact me to let me know he's on his way in" explained Tanner.
"Well I don't like it, the man wants to be a double o agent yet he's fifteen minutes late to the meeting that decides if he's fit for duty or not!" exclaimed M, unable to mask her frustration any longer.
"He's worth it, I can vouch for him Ma'am" said the other man sitting opposite her.
This man was not like Tanner; quite the opposite in fact. He had the physique of an athlete; square jawed with a tuft of thick blond hair on his head. His sly mouth framed by a hazel coloured goatee. His suit was midnight black, like he was going to a funeral, and he wore a black shirt without the tie, something which irked M no end. If he wasn't such an asset shed have had him fired a long time ago.
"And what makes you so sure Mr Whyte?" said M, raising an eyebrow.
"Because I saw firsthand what he and another member of his squad did to stop an bomb maker in Helmand, damn fine work, even if it was against his commanding officers orders…he's committed, patriotic and well trained, and let's not forget he scored 131 on the agency IQ test…he is our man" Whyte was efficient, using only enough gestures that was necessary, but that was to be expected from the longest serving double o agent – thirteen years and counting.
"All I hear from that is he doesn't follow orders" said M, massaging her right temple, she could feel the onset of a headache.
"On the contrary" said Tanner, "Apart from the one or two incidents he's by the book, only going off course when he can see a better outcome, he's a chess player Ma'am, two moves ahead the entire time", Tanner steepled his fingers.
Before M had time to respond, double o five; Mr Whyte, coughed, signalling that Day had just walked into the IC and was making his way to them.
He had a slight limp – an injury sustained on the last operation, but nothing that wouldn't heal itself in a day or two. Day was a relatively tall, broad shouldered man. Like Whyte he was slim, a body of a gym and swimming enthusiast. The scar on his left cheek had now healed completely, leaving a light; almost white line across the top of his cheek in contrast to his outdoorsman coloured skin which he possessed. His hair was styled and cut smartly, the colour of dark chocolate, but a light oak in the sunlight. He carried himself proudly – s result of years on the parade ground. On his way through he earned more than a few looks from the female analysts and a respectable amount from the male analysts too.
"Great…another ladies man" thought M.
If the spy industry needed poster boys, Day would definitely be a candidate.
Martin Day opened the door to the spacious conference room and greeted the three occupants individually, shaking hands as if it were a business meeting, apologising for his lateness.
Tanner picked up a remote which lay next to his hands and depressed the green rubber button at the top, polarising the windows surrounding the conference room, ensuring the small group had privacy.
Day had only met Tanner previously; he was the man who had briefed him on the last two assignments. He'd heard of the white haired, steel faced mustang known simply as M; head of MI6s operations. The blonde haired man he'd never seen before, but the way he stood, and how he seemed to investigate Days very soul by peering into his own ivy green eyes, he could tell he was a spook, and immediately didn't trust him.
After the brief greetings it was straight down to business.
Day sat at the end of the Mahogany desk; he felt the layout was to intimidate. It was like having his first job interview; at a respectable food superstore for the role of checkout assistant, all over again. Day though, was not that easily intimidated.
"Let's get to it then Mr Day, give me a report on Chile, I hear it all went without any major problems, and please keep it short. I have a meeting with the Prime Minister in half an hour. And he, unlike me is not as forgiving for being late" stated M, having a pop at the double o candidates tardiness.
"Again, my apologies Ma'am, you understand how London traffic can be" apologised Day, he couldn't say the real reason that he was late was because he'd decided to show a voluptuous blonde divorcee whom he met at an old English pub a good time last night – subsequently sleeping through his alarm clock. In hindsight, perhaps going for drinks not long after stepping off the plane was such a good idea.
"The operation went smoothly. I dropped in via HALO jump, thanks to our friends in the DAS, I landed roughly a mile north of the targets house and moved as soon as I'd disposed of my jump gear".
Whyte nodded, Tanner made notes.
What followed was a detailed, but concise description of the mission, describing how he was able to sneak in after distracting those on sentry duty with a decoy before making his way inside to find his targets office, where he inserted 'Mantis'.
"Excuse me if this is out of place, but what exactly was that stick doing?" asked Day
Tanner looked over at M who nodded her head before he gave an explanation. He at least tried to; Whyte beat him to the punch.
"That piece of equipment, in a nutshell, broke into his computer, collated all the information from the marks contacts, secure documents etcetera. Once the download of all that information had finished the hardware uploaded a malicious virus which effectively destroyed all the information on that console whilst sending a worm algorithm to all those on his contact list for us to monitor…"
"A handy bit of kit then" Day quipped.
"Indeed" said Tanner, scowling at double o five. Whilst M remained watching the man in front of her, ignoring the 'lovers tiff' developing between her aide and the secret agent.
Tanner followed, turning his attention back towards Day, "With the information you gathered we now have the IP addresses of all those he had dealings with, which when the man was dealing in the arms industry, specialising is selling stolen British missile guidance software, means we can find out where our 'products' ended up".
Day was impressed; he didn't get the full run down in his brief before he set off from the private airfield in rural Hertfordshire to Chile. Just told to get to the target computer, and insert the USB.
"Carry on" pressed M.
The spy candidate went on to describe how he had to avoid detection in his office and wait for his target; the previous Minister for Defence Equipment and Support – David Principal.
Once the man finally arrived home after three hours he found his computer, error codes, the screen flashing like it was a performance at an illegal rave. As he reached for the phone to call an IT support desk he saw the shadow in the corner – Day. After a brief exchange, Day telling him he was a traitor to his country, Principal denying everything of course, Martin Day 'disposed' of him.
Day sighed.
"Is there anything else worth mentioning Mr Day?" questioned M, checking her watch again.
"No ma'am, a brief tussle with a guard whilst trying to acquire a ride out, but he was…incapacitated and I made my escape to the extraction zone".
"Good", M looked at the two men sitting beside her for confirmation which they duly gave with a curt nod. "I'm happy with what you've told us, we'll have to fill in some paper work, send you for a psych test, you know the drill. Provisionally. I'd like to offer you a job".
Days heart began to beat faster, his eyes widened a little, it was what he'd been waiting for.
"I want you to work for us, I'm granting you double o status, effective immediately - once I get the results from the shrink of course, providing its all good news, I'll clear you for active duty"
A satisfied smile tugged at the corner of Days lips.
"If you accept my offer, you will leave your old life behind, Martin Day will vanish from records until I see fit"
"I accept Ma'am" Martin said coolly, not needing time to consider his answer.
"Very well…" M took a deep breath, and opened a dossier on the table in front of her labelled [CLASSIFIED: EYES ONLY] in big, bold red ink. The front page described the man in front of her, his career details, personal description as well as a mug shot of him, which would be eventually blacked out. She signed the dotted line next to the phrase'00 Approval:' and dated it.
"Once you leave this room you will be known as James Bond, Agent Double O Seven".
That was it, what he'd been working towards for three years, his hard work, blood, sweat and tears (literally in all three cases) had been worth something after all. The name sounded familiar however, Day having worked on the defence intelligence staff after coming out of the army heard whispers of a James Bond, secret operational intelligence gathering, providing equipment support. He never asked questions, but it didn't mean he didn't remember the name.
"James Bond Ma'am? The name sounds familiar" Day questioned.
Tanner shared a precautionary glance with M, who continued, there was no point leaving the poor bastard in the dark, with the things she'd be asking him to do during his employment under her, he might as well know.
"Yes…I suspected a man as observant as you probably has heard the name, knowing what you've been involved in. The truth is, Mr D…Bond, You're the next in a long line of James Bonds' There has been a James Bond since the sixties - the height of the Cold War", M nodded towards the handsome blonde man sitting next to her, who remained facing forward, intently watching the newest addition to MI6s' arsenal.
"And there will forever be a James Bond. It keeps things…simple. Some Bonds have eventually served their time and gone on to bigger, better things…others…have not been so lucky" said M, sitting back in her chair, she felt a pang of guilt as she remembered Bonds predecessor, one of the few Bonds she actually liked, the notion of her telling him so of course was ludicrous. "That is all I'm willing to divulge on the subject, you already know more than you should".
M got up to leave, being the gentlemen they were all three men stood up with her.
"Tanner, re-programme his access card to show his new identity, take him to Dr Hanzge for his psych evaluation and when he's done, take him down to Q division for tagging. If that is all gentlemen, I must leave for the Prime Minister, good evening" she stepped towards the door, the windows de-polarising. As she placed a hand on the door handle she turned and nodded to the three men in turn, "Tanner, Whyte, Bond…don't make me regret my decision". In one fluid movement she was gone, making her way towards the elevators and the car park beneath the building.
A/N...Review please, lots of readers, no reviews, it not only spurs me on but also shows me what I can improve on. You guys are awesome if that helps...