James Bond, agent 007 in the British Secret Service, was tanning,

on the beach at the Sol de Oro resort, in Southern Spain. He enjoyed the

quiet, and he thought happily that for once he was sitting on a beach to

relax, not scope out some multi-millionaire suspected of fraud or murder

of a colleague. His sunglasses were purely for UV protection, the rental

car he had driven did not provide a smoke-screen or bullet-proof windows,

and his cell phone didn't shoot darts. He was here from a break...

M had told him, before he'd left, that if he even brought a gun

with him, she would use it to shoot him when he least expected it.

"You need the rest. You work like a dog!" she'd told him.

So, Mr. Bond was sitting in the sun, without a worry on his mind

on the 6th of July. Well, without a worry until his cell phone rang.

"Hello, there. Mr. Bond speaking."

"Hello, James. It's Money Penny. Sorry to disturb you like this

on your vacation, but M says you must come back to headquarters immediately."

"IMMEDIATELY? But I'm supposed to be relaxing! This is absurd!"

"Don't worry James. I'm sure whatever beautiful, foreign girl you're

romancing at the moment can wait for her charming Englishmen. Good bye."

There was, for once, in fact, no girl at all. This was very odd

for James, but he had decided to devote most of his time to sitting on

the beach this trip. Usually girls he got involoved with ended up being

the former fiances of late Russian agents whom he had killed, and were

trying their hand at revenge. This usually led to him having to save the

girl from crocodiles, sharks, or men with guns, for some reason which

is unknown. Anyways, James had decided against a girl this trip.

And now he was going back to London. Well, he supposed he had to

go. If M had called him back after so thouroughly insisting absolute

relaxation, it was something serious.

And so Mr. James Bond went to arrange air line tickets.