00
"Nadimah, you have done me a great service, and I assure you and your brother will be compensated adequately for your assistance," Silva intoned fluidly, sipping his drink.
Slyly, she peered over at Bond, "Well, I have to say, it wasn't really for you at all."
The blonde snorted, "Yes, I am in no doubt of that."
"What say, now that we've finished our supper, we go for another round of cards, my friend?" Naadir suggested looking over at Silva, "I really would like another chance to win back what I lost to you last night."
"I would be amenable to that," the blonde agreed while accepting a new drink from their server.
"And Mister Bond, bhai- would you join us as well?" Naadir offered, turning to face his other companions.
Of course, he knew just what she would say; as he had directed her to say it.
Nadimah laughed shaking her head.
"You know I loathe gambling, my dear bhen." She expressed disdainfully before turning to smile sweetly at Bond, "Would you perhaps care to accompany me back to my rooms for a drink, my darling?"
"Certainly," The Agent replied easily, bestowing a charming grin upon his lovely, radiant companion in return.
Silva furrowed his brow with a small frown, peering sharply at his partner.
"Why don't you stay and show off a bit, my dear? You're better than I am at this game, are you not? Your friend can always stay and watch." He suggested with an aloof shrug in her direction.
"Watching is boring," she retorted shortly, glaring at him with a pointed challenging expression before turning to plead her case with her friend, "You won't leave me all alone, will you, James?"
"Of course I won't."
Looking over the Agent's shoulder she directed a brief, smug, triumphant little smirk in Silva's direction. The blonde narrowed his eyes in return, sneering.
"Such a clever girl, aren't you?" he bit out before rounding on his partner, "Abandoning me again, James? How typical."
Naadir concealed his pleasure at the exchange; everything working beautifully according to plan.
"I'm going to go fetch the cards I'll let you figure this out amongst yourselves," he informed with dry bemusement, excusing himself from the group.
"Raoul," Bond drawled, regarding his companion's petulance with a small wry, exasperated expression, "This is not an exclusive invitation, you can of course join us when you're finished, if you care to."
"Must he?" Nadimah complained under her breath.
"How gracious of you, my dear, but I highly doubt I'd be so inclined" Silva huffed before shaking his head and shooing them away, "Fine, go off with your little musaranho."
"I don't know what that means, but it sounded rude," Nadimah objected.
Bond irritably scowled, turning his back on his offensive, galling partner.
"Nadimah, my dear," the Agent intoned, taking her slender hand in his own in a conciliatory gesture, "Please accept my apologies on his behalf."
"Not at all, I'm sorry for you, you're the one who has to put up with him on a regular basis."
"I hope you are aware, my dear," Silva smiled coolly, "that my partner does not speak for me-"
"I'm quite aware," Nadimah replied before turning back to the Agent, "Honestly I couldn't care less. He's just being a sourpuss. But I'm sure he'll get over it over the course of a few games with Naadir."
"Hmm, and what makes you say that?" Silva inquired interestedly.
"Well, he is awful at poker, I'm sure you'll regain some of your losses at least in cash if nothing else."
"That is a fascinating perspective you have, my dear, do you always think in terms of monetary value? I suppose you would, considering all those numbers you crunch all day. Rather dehumanizing after awhile, one can imagine," Silva mused before circling in on her with a pointed look, "But let me make something very clear, I do not place a price on my partner."
"You do so with many things, Mister Silva, I wonder what would make him so unique," Nadimah shrugged before looking up to smile warmly at his lover, "I, on the other hand, get what makes him so great."
Bond groaned inwardly caught between as the two carried on oblivious to his growing irritation.
The blonde narrowed his eyes at the presumptuous cur, shaking his head in open wonderment, "One, this is a dangerous game you're getting yourself into with me, and I do not think you understand the rules well enough to play. Two, you clearly have little idea of whom I really am, and you are very, very lucky, my dear, that you have been of such great service to us, and that my partner for some reason or another seems so absurdly fond of you."
"Must we continue with this? Retract your claws and be done with this cat fight, Raoul," Bond remanded before offering his arm to Nadimah, "Let us go off then, shall we, my dear?"
Silva chuckled darkly, "James, you are really something else aren't you."
"Come up if you want, or don't, your choice, I could care less either way," the Agent replied coolly in parting before strolling away arm and arm with his gleefully satisfied friend. Silva watched, glaring daggers at the two as they departed before collecting himself and turning around to join Naadir for their game.
Clinging to his arm, Nadimah bumped her hip playfully into that of her companion's and laughed as they stepped out of the elevator, "Come on, James, perk up, let the guy mope. He'll get over it."
Bond stared questioningly at the woman and shook his head disapprovingly, "Why do you antagonize him?"
"Tch," Nadimah huffed disgustedly as they walked down the hall passing rows of doors to other rooms, "It's not like he's been very nice tonight to either of us, huh? And I went out of my way to do you two such a favour only for him to turn around and spit it back in my face. I don't like him at all."
"You both seem to feel quite free to express your displeasure without reserve," Bond informed with a tone of irritation, "I don't particularly enjoy being caught in the middle."
"I don't particularly enjoy watching how unhappy it makes you, James. Not that he seems to care. But anyway, let's forget about that jerk for awhile and talk about other more pleasant subjects," she suggested. Sliding her key-card through the lock, the door clicked open and the two entered to take a seat in their usual spots.
"Let me fix you something to drink, darling, brandy or bourbon?"
"Have you any scotch?"
"But of course," Nadimah replied with a flirtatious grin.
00
Quickly darting a glance at his watch, Naadir grinned up at his companion.
"Well at least you've been so kind to allow me to win back a portion of my losses," He laughed, slapping his cards down on the table top with a heavy thump, rattling the chips against the surface, "What say we bring the party to our erstwhile companion's, yes?"
"That would probably be a good idea," Silva drawled as he carelessly pushed aside his winnings.
"You don't intend to collect?"
"That wouldn't be very courteous of me in light of recent events."
Naadir grinned, "I am more than happy to accept your gratitude in lieu of my sister."
Silva huffed darkly, refraining from voicing a scathing reply upon that subject.
"I mean, really, you do owe her, but I suppose by extension I will take what I can," Naadir mused, "You don't particularly like her much, do you?"
"I cannot comment as you are her kin and would not take pleasure in hearing my honest opinion, but I can promise you, you can rest assured that none of my ill-will could negatively impact you by proxy."
"Thank god, for that, I think," the Pakistani man chuckled with relief, "I've sort of grown rather fond of my hide, I don't believe I'd care to have in skinned from me."
Silva snorted, "I am constantly amused by the rumours I hear of myself recently."
Naadir's dark eyes widened in alarm.
"I didn't mean anything by it," he backtracked quickly, "Nadimah seems to have this idea that you're a relatively brutal sort of person and one ought to tread around you with the utmost care."
"Is that so?"
"From what she says, though she doesn't seem to care much," Naadir laughed, "My sister is a tenacious bull-dog of a woman. A bit scary really. Once she has her mind set on something, she rarely pays mind to the cost of obtaining it. She'll go to any lengths."
"I wonder if you realize you're doing her a disservice by saying all this, my friend," Silva pointed out, "What do you hope to gain by doing so?"
Naadir insistently shook his head, "No, nothing, Mister Silva! I do not mean to cast her into anymore of a poor light within your eyes as she's already placed herself. Or to do so with any intention to make myself look better in contrast, of course! I merely mean, her shortcomings are part of her charm! They aren't even shortcomings if you look at it from a business perspective. She has a very entrepreneurial spirit and it is my belief that I owe much of what we've gained from her ambition."
"But yet, she would carelessly gamble both of your positions in her pursuit to lay claim to what she thinks I possess?" the blonde asked, chuckling, "That is not respectable fortitude, Naadir, that's stupidity."
"She tends to covet what she can't have," Naadir shrugged, "She sometimes forgets to differentiate her enemies from her friends and makes enemies where she might make friends- which is to say, I am always happy to make friends in her stead."
Silva raised an eyebrow, smirking as he regarded the ingratiating fellow, "A worthwhile reason to keep you employed, I imagine.
"If it's any consolation, I'll be more than willing to make sure she stays in line under your employ- if that is how everything works out, Mister Silva. You can count on me."
"Hmm," the blonde responded slowly, "that shall await to be seen, I suppose."
Naadir cocked a grin, "Anyhow, my friend, shall we make sure those two aren't getting into too much trouble without us?"
"It would be wise," Silva agreed rising from his chair to follow his chipper companion.
00
Nadimah darted a quick, nervous glance at the crystal quartz clock upon the wall before suppressing her anxiety and smiling warmly at her companion.
Immersed in mixing their drinks, Bond missed the action and turned back around setting the glasses upon the table before reseating himself beside her.
"I can't tell you how happy I am that you've come up with me, James," Nadimah expressed reaching forward to grasp the Agent's hand, "In so short a time I really believe I've found something in you. Something I've searched for all my life."
Bond regarded his friend with a small confused smile, "And what is that, my dear?"
Nadimah shook her head with a heavy sigh, "I don't know. I can't really say. I mean, I feel like you understand me like no one else ever has."
She turned fully to face him, clutching his other hand and brought them both together before her in a significant, symbolic gesture.
"I feel like we've made a connection. I can't explain it, but I can feel it. Inside of me- in my heart, James," Nadimah stated with clear, sparkling eyes, "I really want for you to always, in some way, be a part of my life."
The Agent peered at his companion with a look of concern. The mood had gone from airy, playful frivolity to this sudden, meaningful intensity without any forewarning.
"You must think I am so stupid," she laughed darkly shaking her head with a tragic, unhappy expression, "And you wouldn't be wrong."
Extremely unnerved, Bond moved to face Nadimah squarely, "I do not think you're stupid in the least, darling, what on Earth would cause you to accuse me of such a thing? Why do you say this?"
"Because you're going to hate me," she sniffled letting tears roll unchecked down her face, "You'll never want to see me again when I tell you the truth."
"What truth? What is this about?" The Agent demanded appalled by his companion's sudden uncharacteristic behaviour, "What could you tell me that would make you think I would ever hate you or not want to ever see you again?"
While theatrically tossing her head back in an act of abandoned despair, Nadimah cast another discreet glance at the time before uttering an audible sob, "Because I am a horribly jealous woman and a terrible friend, when you've been so kind to me."
Bond huffed incredulously, "This is really rather an overreaction, my dear, and I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Don't you? How can you be so blind to what I've done," Nadimah accused unmercifully, her eye-makeup smeared into streaks down her flushed cheeks, her role becoming increasingly easier to fall into as she pulled her cues from the piercing guilt riddling her from within.
She hated herself for what she was going to do. What she was doing this very second.
"Can't you see? I mean of course, Silva does not deserve you. Of course he is a vile, despicable man whom I hate. But I hate him because he has you and I don't."
"I really think you overestimate what-"
"And it's not fair," Nadimah bit out, "because he can't give you what I can."
Shaking his head in dismay, Bond furrowed his brow, "What do you-"
"Isn't it obvious?" She asked her dark eyes glittering out at him beneath welling tears, "Don't you already know?"
Helpless to console her, the Agent sat back in his seat lamely, awaiting her inevitable confession with growing alarm.
The sentiment being purely genuine, though not precisely of the variety as she was about to make it sound, was simple enough to confess.
"I love you."
Bond inhaled and then exhaled staring at his companion mutely for a very long moment.
"Are you really that surprised?" Nadimah asked in a small, timid voice as she regarded him brokenly.
"I was under the impression you were fond of me in a more platonic sense," the Agent replied with a modicum of disbelief.
"A mistaken impression," the dark-eyed woman retorted caustically, "Not that you care."
Bond shook his head, and stroked down her thin, quaking arms soothingly, "You know I care about you, my dear, what would you have me do? How can I fix this?"
"Fix this?" Nadimah snorted, "Fix what? I'll tell you what you can do. You could leave him."
Swallowing thickly, the Agent attempted to carefully patch the tenuous situation with a small, charming grin, "I can't help but think it might be a good idea to perhaps drink our drinks and talk this through. You don't know me as well as you think you might, and we've barely known each other for more than a few days."
"You would try to disqualify me by talking of time and invalidate my love for you because you think I'm being rash?"
"No, no," Bond hurriedly backtracked, "Let me try to clarify what I mean, I can't help but think there must be something else here that's troubling you. That may have caused you to... incorrectly assign such passionate feelings for me. The other day, on the beach, you seemed... "
The Agent trailed off furrowing his brow before peering back at his distraught companion, "I suppose you seemed distressed, sad. Afraid of something."
Nadimah sucked in her bottom lip, worrying it nervously between her teeth as her friend hit too close to home.
"I am," she confessed dramatically, "I'm afraid of your lover. He hates me and I know he wants to kill me."
Bond shook his head, "That cannot possibly be what has you in such a state, Nadimah. Besides, even if any of that were remotely true, you know I'd prevent it."
"I know, you'd protect me. I want you to protect me, my darling," Nadimah expressed with impassioned candor as she clung to him desperately, "I would give anything to be yours, James. Ask me for anything and I would be yours forever."
Mixed with a combination of warring repulsion at this dramatic display, bafflement at whatever compelled it to occur and compassion for this apparently fragile woman, Bond sighed wearily and dragged her weeping, limp and pliant form into his arms.
"I don't know if there is much I can say that can do any good right now, my dear," he frowned, one arm wrapped around her waist and the other reaching up to stroke her face. He combed his fingers through her loose, silken hair unable to protest as she slyly maneuvered herself more into his lap.
Listening out for, and finally hearing the approach of her brother and his companion nearing the door, she peered coyly up at Bond from beneath thick, black wetly clumped together lashes and smiled, "Then don't say anything at all."
Lunging forward, Nadimah boldly seized her prey by his lapels pulling him into her in a fierce, demanding kiss.
Too distracted by the sudden, confusing, aggressive attack, and the fervent, audible moans of the woman writhing upon his lap, Bond missed the click of the latch and opening of the door and everything went exactly according to schedule as Naadir entered the suite with the blonde in tow.
A throat cleared from behind the two, alerting them both of the untimely intrusion. Nadimah looked up with swollen lips feigning surprise, followed quickly by the Agent whipping his head around to glance behind at their visitors.
Naadir stepped off to the side and blew an uneasy laugh as Silva hovered expressionlessly in the doorway.
"Ah, this was not expected," the dark-haired man proclaimed, darting a worried glance over at the grim figure of his blonde companion.
Bond covered his annoyed grimace, pressing both hands to his face as Nadimah remained perched upon him.
"I don't suppose saying it's not what it looks like would do any good," he offered tiredly.
"My dear bhai, you should not take such liberties with our friend's partner," Naadir chastised with a pleased sparkle glinting in his eye as he regarded his sister, "Come now, perhaps it would be prudent to peal yourself from off our guest, yes?"
"Not if he doesn't want me to," Nadimah shrugged with a satisfied smirk, reciting her lines as prompted, before looking down at the man she sat atop with an open look of warm ardour, "You don't want me to, do you?"
"It would be wise if you would," Bond clipped out in a strained tone through gritted teeth. Daring to glance up, he sighed as he observed his partner's strange, coldly reserved expression.
"Raoul," the Agent feebly attempted, "I am speaking the truth."
Silva flashed a pointed, disgusted look in his lover's direction before turning his back on the whole unpalatable scene and storming out.
"Ugh," Nadimah groaned with a guilty look at her friend as she extracted herself from his lap, "I suppose you better go see to that."
Irritably, Bond shook his head and took off in pursuit of his clearly irate partner. As he passed out the door, Naadir shared a silent exchange with his twin, directing her to follow.
"Look," The Agent called out down the hall at the retreating figure of the blonde, "If you would just pause and listen, as I said, it really was not what it looked like."
Silva paused at the end of the hall and turned back around, leveling his partner with a black, murderous glower, "Really, James, and just what exactly should it have looked like?"
Bond swallowed thickly as the blonde stalked back toward him until he stopped, barely a hairs-length away, "What exactly should it have looked like? The two of you naked? Lost in throws of passion?"
Shaking his head, the Agent laughed darkly, "Not even slightly-"
"What business is it of yours?" Nadimah interjected defensively, appearing from the doorway to stand behind her friend.
"It is my business, you miserable whore," Silva spat, "And none of yours, do yourself a favour and depart immediately before I consider removing you myself."
"Are you threatening me, Mister Silva?" Nadimah demanded indignantly, "How dare you! I should ring up our friends and call off your whole meeting!"
Bond gazed up at the ceiling incredulously, cursing his poor luck at being caught once more between the two, "This is really not a good time to interfere, Nadimah-"
"Please, James, do not insert yourself in this," Silva huffed, "This tramp has done nothing other than provoke me since we first met, it is high time she is properly reprimanded."
"Oh? And what are you going to do? Have me shot? Do it yourself? Why? Because I stole away your lover? Because he never loved you at all?" Nadimah cruelly accused, lost in the act, "So you'd punish me instead, huh?"
"He will not," Bond assured, his chin set firmly in determination as he challengingly glared his partner, "You will not."
Silva paused, furrowing his brow as he stared in disbelief at the agent.
"How well you know me, meu querido."
"He doesn't know you at all," Nadimah retorted, "Not the real you. I know all about the evil things you've done."
Shaking his head with revulsion, the blonde rolled his eyes, "I cannot waste my time with this."
Squarely facing his partner standing between the two protectively blocking him from Nadimah as if he would at any moment lunge forward and attack the cowering woman, he snorted tiredly, "James, go see to your slut and come back when you've had your fill, hmm? Get it out of your system and then we'll talk."
Bond frowned at the blonde's back as he walked away, "And where will you be?"
"You'll know where to find me," Silva drawled crisply without turning back around as he departed, "Be a good boy and at the very least try to find yourself a prophylactic, God only knows where your whore's been."
"That horrid Son of a Bitch!" Nadimah fumed once Silva turned the corner.
"I should go talk to him now before he starts planning our joint execution," Bond mused dryly.
Nadimah folded her arms across her chest, "That is the worst idea I've ever heard, he is far too angry to deal with right now. Please, come back to my room and we'll have a drink while he cools down."
The Agent peered at his companion with narrowed eyes, "That does not sound like a good plan."
"Oh, please, I'm not going to molest you, James," Nadimah huffed, "Look, I am sorry things have gone the way they have. I didn't mean for all of this to get so out of hand. Please, darling. Please, come back to my room and let me at least pour you a drink and apologize. Maybe we can find a way to fix this mess, hm? I at least owe that to you."
Bond eyed her skeptically, taking in Nadimah's changed disposition; clearly back to a semblance of normality and ceded, allowing himself to be pulled back into the suite.
"I think perhaps I ought to retire, this has been quite the little drama, Nadimah," Naadir exclaimed, excusing himself, "Good night you two, try not to do anything I wouldn't."
Leaning in to kiss his sister before parting, he discreetly slipped into her hand the sedative, "Watch the time, my dear."
Bond furrowed his brow at the cryptic remark and Nadimah shook her head with a small shrug as her brother left, closing the door with a gentle click behind him.
Strolling over to the wet-bar Nadimah watched as her companion sat down back upon the sofa with an edgy expression.
"So, what can I make you to drink, James?"
00
Back in his room, Silva sat in the chair at the desk, liquor in hand, no glass, and stared blankly at the wall.
There was nothing like being a sore loser in the company of a fine brandy.
His mobile vibrated for the second time within his pocket, and he ignored it taking a long pull from the bottle.
Finally, at the fifth call, Silva pulled the accursed object out from his coat and glared at the screen squinting through his drunken haze to read the text:
Today 20:10
Hello, friend, this is Naadir, just wanted to apologize on my sister's behalf and wanted to know if you'd come join me downstairs for a drink.
I have some information that might interest you.
Silva frowned, his fingers hovering over the touch key-pad hesitating to type out his reply and took another generous pull of the brandy; closing his eyes as the liquid burned through him.
At last he decided on his response and yawning stood up, depositing the mobile back into his pocket.
His curiosity often got the better of him.
As he stepped out of his door and the tranquilizer dart pierced into his neck, Silva collapsed to the floor and wondered if perhaps he ought to have predicted this turn of events before the world faded black.
00
A muted roaring rush like a far off ocean trapped in a tunnel stirred him at last from his unconscious state back into a semblance of lucidity. His head still an addled mush from the heavy drug, Silva swallowed thickly, his throat bone dry. Blinking several times, he attempted to adjust to the surrounding blinding light and finally, squinting around through the hazy blur of bright colours, his eyes faceted upon the figure of an unfamiliar man peering back at him, a gun leveled at him warningly.
Immediately, it occurred to him that though he was handcuffed, strangely, his captors had left him unbound to the chair he was placed upon. Had he not been so perturbed to find himself so carelessly caught in such a situation, Silva might have been offended. Surely, they didn't think a little sedation would be enough to detain him.
"Now that you're awake, Mister Silva, my employer has a message he'd like to share with you via transmission," The guard announced opening the laptop and turning it around to face his prisoner.
Naadir's smiling face appeared onto the screen and Silva groaned dismally.
So obvious.
"Hello," Naadir greeted, "I hope this evening finds you well, though I suspect it has not. Tsk, tsk, see what love does to a man? You were so distracted by heart-break you barely could see what was right in front of you all this time! By now I suspect you've gleaned the truth. Neither my sister nor I are exactly who we have portrayed ourselves to be. You see, our roles are really quite reversed. Nadimah works for me and I manage all the operations within this organization. You, Raoul Silva are a vile, meddling snake, and I cannot abide your presumption! It sickens me to think of you slithering in and taking over and ruining all of my hard work. Therefore, to my immense satisfaction, and your misfortune, soon you shall be a dead snake."
Naadir chuckled at his joke, grinning broadly through the screen at his (literally) captive audience.
"Now, of course, we cannot have your prurient little catamite running amok causing a fuss as he attempts to avenge you, so as we speak, my darling sister has already provided him with his own unique cocktail infused with a tasteless poison that shall conveniently, and I assure you, quite painlessly, expose of him within... oh, say, about a few minutes, give or take. When I've concluded that bit of disposal I will come down and kill you myself. An easy day's work and then my sister and I will celebrate, freed from the looming threat of your tyranny once and for all.
"Until then, relax and try to accept your fate with honour. I'll be down soon, bye-bye!"
The screen blipped black and Silva gritted his teeth with barely suppressed fury as he glared at the open cavern of the Ruger's barrel fixed between his eyes.
"Untethered and left with only one measly lackey with a shit gun? That's poor planning. Can your boss not afford a bit of rope? A fellow to keep you company?" Silva laughed as the guard frowned, "I do hope you are paid well, sir."
In the blink of an eye, the blonde propelled himself from his seat, and threw the entire weight of his body into that of the other man. The gun hit the floor with an audible thud, triggering a bullet which zoomed past the two tussling men and ricocheted off the wall behind them.
Using the chain of his manacles, Silva grappled his way behind the guard and
choked him into unconsciousness. Quickly he rifled through the man's belt and procured a key to unlock the cuffs. At last, grabbing the abandoned gun he opened the chamber and quickly loaded in a new magazine before making his escape- barely considering how very easy it had been to do so.
Racing down the hall, choked with blind panic, Silva crashed through the door of Nadimah's suite.
The woman jumped, startled by the calamitous intrusion as Bond lay spread in a prone position across the sofa in a drugged coma, his breathing suppressed by the strong narcotic; for all intensive purposes appearing dead or on the brink thereof.
"How are you here?" Nadimah demanded with alarm, "I don't understand!"
"Of course, you thought I'd be dead by now, hmm? You deceitful traitorous puta!"
"No, no, this is all wrong, this was not supposed to happen like this!" Nadimah muttered to herself in confused panic as the blonde cornered her with a crazed, malicious, predatorial gleam in his eye; a lion closing in on the kill.
"What did you do to him."
"I didn't do anything! He's only sedated, he'll wake up any moment, I swear, don't kill me!" Nadimah cried in terror, vases and glasses crashing to the floor as she fumbled about over the surfaces of the surrounding furniture for anything she could use in self-defense.
"How long ago did you put the poison in his drink?"
"Only just a few minutes, but I promise you-" Nadimah pled, "It's not poison, please!"
"What was it! What did you put it in it?" Silva shouted stalking toward her with the cocked and loaded Ruger he'd taken off the guard, "There still might be time to counteract the effects if I can purge it from his system."
"Purge what? It's not poison, it's a drug! You have to listen to me! You have to believe me! I swear I would never hurt-"
"Shut up!" He roared, blind with rage at the woman for sticking to her story he could not for one second believe. Lunging forward he wrestled the petite woman to the ground, shaking her fiercely with desperate, demented, frothing fury, "What did you do! Tell me! What have you given him?"
With another crash of a lamp being pulled from a table, and the loud shouts of an argument taking place, Bond came to, dazed from what he could only imagine to be a severely inebriated stupor, his head throbbing painfully. Yet caught between waking and unconsciousness, Bond squinted, trying to make sense of the chaotic scene unfolding before his eyes.
"What did you do! Conte-me!" Silva demanded pinning Nadimah to the floor beneath him as he pressed the Ruger at her temple. Struggling to free herself, she lurched forward and bit down hard into the blonde's wrist, tearing the flesh with her teeth. Bond watched in mute, helpless horror as Silva struck her with the back of his hand momentarily containing her. Uttering out in incoherent protest, the Agent tried to move his leaden limbs to no effect.
Freeing an arm, Nadimah desperately grabbed for the gun, and the two wrestled for it's possession before a shot exploded from the barrel with a sickening piercing sound of metal driving through flesh; Bond heard both of his companions simultaneously gasp in surprise.
"No. No, você puta, você vaca estúpida, you better not die, you wretched musaranho," Silva rasped hoarsely, collecting the convulsing woman in his arms and propping her up to keep her from aspirating on the blood foaming from her lips, "Conte-me- tell me what you've done!"
The door crashed open once more as Naadir's armed men flooded into the room, cocking their weapons at the distraught blonde clutching the dying woman in his arms. With one, final, raspy breath, Nadimah slumped over dead in his arms, succumbing to her fatal wound.
Another tranquilizer dart shot beneath his ribs, and as Silva collapsed over Nadimah's lifeless corpse, his gaze settled on the waking form of his companion before all once again went black.
Bond rolled from the couch and pulled himself feebly over to Nadimah, cradling her in his arms; his heart cold as he stared at the paralyzed form of his partner, cursing the day they had ever met. How had things spiraled so out of control? How had everything led to this tragic, horrific conclusion?
With precisely planned timing, Naadir sprinted into the room and uttered a pitiful cry as he sank to the floor beside his sister.
"I will see he's hanged for this!" The man sobbed furiously, clinging with wretched despair to Nadimah, her glassy eyes staring sightlessly beyond, "That despicable bastard stole away the only family I had left! Oh, piyaarah bhen, my precious darling, how could anyone have taken you from me."
"Sir, what do we do with the prisoner."
"I don't care," Naadir moaned choking on his tears, "toss him into the sea, let him drown. Take him a part limb by limb and feed him his heart."
The guards bound Silva up and carried him away and Bond sagged against the wall, watching a brother mourn the loss of his sister with a heavy heart.