Disclaimer: Don't own anything, but I'm anxious to see the next movie!
This chapter is dedicated to Matteic – who wouldn't let me off the hook. Thanks. Sometimes my muse needs a swift kick in the rear. ;-)
"Mr. White. Is he the leader of your organization?"
"I d-don't know," Standing replied. Bond launched himself from the footstool and grasped the man's left lapel with his right hand – his arm lodged firmly across the man's throat.
"You do not want to lie to me, Standing," Bond hissed menacingly.
"I'm n-not! I swear! I'm not high enough up in the organization to know who's in charge!"
"Why did White give you up?!" Bond yelled in Standing's face. The man went pale.
"W-what?! You've got Mr. White?" Standing bit his lip, and Bond couldn't stop a sneer from crossing his face. He had the man right where he wanted him.
"I personally put a bullet in that bastard's knee, Miles. He's been at MI6 Headquarters for some time. Yours was the first name he dropped. Why was that, do you think?"
"I'm not sure," Standing whispered.
"But you must have some idea," Bond countered. His prisoner stared at the ground.
"Well, I was warned that you were coming, so chances are White sent you to Panama so I could recruit you."
"You were warned?"
"The organization is very wide-spread. I wouldn't be surprised if a few MI6 operatives were on our bankroll. Maybe even M himself."
Bond laughed. "You really must be low-level, Standing, if you don't even know that the current M is a woman."
"I-I told you…"
"But you could still be lying to me."
"Why would I do that?"
"You tell me." Bond released the man in disgust and stood. His muscles ached in protest, but he did his best to ignore them. Glancing out the window, he saw the sun just beginning to sink under the horizon. "It looks like you just earned yourself another night in paradise, Standing. Make yourself comfortable. I'll fly us back to England in the morning." He turned toward the cabin's small bedroom.
"Wait!" Standing called, "You can't leave me out here! Please!" Bond ignored him and shut the door between them. Taking a few more ibuprofen, he laid gingerly down on the bed – falling almost immediately to sleep.
xXx
When he woke up the next morning, he wasn't surprised that his pain had increased. Strained muscles were aggravated by remaining sedentary, and he had slept on his back – where some of the worse bruising lingered. Still, he mused, the result would likely have been the same if he had slept on his side. At least his left arm didn't hurt too much. Popping three pills this time, he ran some water over his face before making his way out to see the prisoner.
"Sleep well, Standing?" he called.
There was no answer.
Bond immediately reached for his gun as he approached the man. He was exactly as Bond had left him – propped up against the wall. There was only one difference. His forehead seemed to have sprouted a small, bloody hole during the night. He was dead. Bond left the cottage to scan the area. There were signs that someone had driven through recently, and he debated following. A quick look around, however, told him that it had rained – probably less than an hour ago. Any other tracks had likely been washed away. He cursed and headed back inside.
With Standing dead, Bond was left with more questions than before. Who had found the safe house? Why kill Standing and leave him alive? And more importantly; what was he going to say to M?
Okay, so I didn't go to sleep after writing the next chapter of "Hall of Mirrors", but I am going now! Goodnight!
Don't forget to review!
