Things for the rest of the night were very quiet. Neither Pierre nor Felix spoke a single word to one another at dinner. The same went for the car ride home and for the rest of their evening, until morning. Felix decided it would be best to drop everything from the night before, and act like nothing was wrong with 'James', until he had left for somewhere. After that, he would get into contact with M or the Paris Police Department about what was going on.
Felix was at the table feeding Lulu her breakfast, which was nothing more than scrambled eggs and toast along side a sippy cup full of apple juice. Felix had nothing more than a cup of coffee for himself on the table. Pierre walked out of the bathroom buttoning up his suit jacket, then turned to face Felix.
"Feeling better, this morning," Pierre questioned.
"Yeah...that headache kinda screwed me up, last night." Felix answered.
"I'll say," Pierre answered.
Felix paused feeding Lulu for a quick second, looked at Pierre, then went back to feeding Lulu.
"Going to another meeting, again, today?" Felix asked.
"Oh, indeed; meeting with a few CIA agents here to help me figure out where Prudhomme might be hiding out." Pierre answered.
"Any leads, so far,"
"No, but I'm positive something will come up soon."
"If you say so, James."
"Alright, so long for now."
Felix nodded, and Pierre walked out of the hotel room, locked the door, and was on his way. Felix walked over to the hotel door and looked through the peep hole; no one was there. He sighed and made his way back to Lulu. Sitting back down in his chair and continuing to feed Lulu, he began talking to the little toddler.
"Okay, Lulu; who would your daddy call, if he were in need for help or trouble?" Felix questioned.
"M," Lulu answered.
"Good idea, kid,"
"I miss Daddy,"
"I know...and we're gonna find him and bring him back to us."
"Where is he, Fewix,"
"That's what I would like to know, kiddo."
"Get M; he help,"
"Alright, darling...let's do this thing."
Back in London, M was sitting at his desk doing paperwork, when Q walked in.
"Anything from 007," Q questioned.
"No...not since he left for Paris a few days ago, why?" M questioned.
"Seems odd for him not to report back with anything for this long."
"You know 007; he had his reasons and tactics for doing things. We'll hear something, when he thinks time's right."
"I don't know, M...something seems peculiar this time around. Something just doesn't seem to fit here."
M looked at Q puzzled for a moment, when his desk phone began to ring.
"Hold that thought for a moment, Q," M stated. He picked up his phone and answered it. "British Intelligence Agency, here; M speaking."
"M, it's Felix Leiter," Felix answered, from the hotel phone.
"Mr. Leiter, what's going on over there? Where's 007," M questioned.
"Actually, that's what I'm calling you about. There's something weird going on with 007, and I think it's because it's not the real 007."
"Oh, Mr. Leiter, that's preposterous; of course it's the real 007. Who else would it be?"
"Someone working for Prudhomme impersonating him for whatever it is Prudhomme's planning."
"What gives you such suspicions, Mr. Leiter?"
"He's constantly vanishing off somewhere, he's making little to no contact at all with his daughter, and he's reluctant to doing any activities such as swimming and golf."
"That doesn't make any sense; 007 loves to swim and play golf, almost as much as he loves his daughter."
"That's exactly why I'm becoming suspicious. I know 007 is sometimes discreet with his whereabouts, but nothing like this, M...something's not right, here."
"Have you talked to Paris Police Officers?"
"Negative, M; I thought coming into contact with you first would be the best solution."
"My only advice is to do whatever you think is necessary, Mr. Leiter. Get the Paris Police involved, if necessary."
"Affirmative; speak with you later, M."
"Good luck, Mr. Leiter,"
Felix hung up the phone and looked over at Lulu. He walked back to Lulu, sat down, and continued to feed her her breakfast.