BARCELONA,
SPAIN.
ONE WEEK LATER.
A starry sky casts darkness over a warm night that pervades the streets of the city, alive with traditional merriment. A carnival mardi gras is taking place, with a parade of floats burning effigys and singing old folk songs passing through the streets. The traffic is crawling around the city, a sleek little grey BMW travelling slowly amidst the everyday cars, a beacon of wealth.
James Bond 007 drives the car in a smart casual suit, one arm out the window, enjoying the Spanish ceremony as the parade goes past with a troupe of sexy female dancers. The BMW then turns off down a small side alley off the main road, between two old buildings, now closed for the evening.
The car reaches a dead end wall and stops. Bond shines the fog lights onto the wall, highlighting camoflaged ID sensors, which detect the BMW and turn from red to green with a beep. The wall then silently slides into the ground, revealing a secluded MI6 mansion house behind it, replete with drive and well-tended gardens.
Bond drives the BMW up the drive, the wall sliding back up once he enters.
-
The interior of the mansion contains a beautiful foyer decorated with exquisite Spanish paintings and tapestries, filled with expensive objects from the local culture. James enters expecting a welcoming audience, looking up the empty spiral staircase, to the closed door on the right and the open one on the left. He fears no one is in residence.
From the left door, however, Bond soon hears the tapping of a keyboard, a reassuring sound to his ears.
The room to the left is an antique games room converted into a secretarial office, blending the old billiards tables and dartboards with mod-coms, an office that holds faithful secretary Moneypenny to the delight of Bond, who, though he'd never admit it to anyone, loved the sparring repartee with a woman he knew would one day make a man very much unlike him a wonderful wife.
The attractive, late-thirties woman sits at her desk, ever busy. She is facing behind her, sorting files near a cabinet, not seeing a single red rose slide onto her desk by a male hand.
Moneypenny does hear it slide and smiles, knowing who is behind her. She turns to see James, as expected, standing before her.
"Buenos Tardes, Moneypenny." says Bond, with a charming smile that Moneypenny can't help but warm towards.
She smiles back, trying to keep from blushing. "For me, James?…"
"Who else?…" Bond remarkes, as he observes Moneypenny trying to hide her delight at the gift. She picks up the rose and smells it.
"To what do I owe such a gesture?…" she asks, flirtatiously, trying to tease a similar remark out the man before her.
Bond begins perching himself on her desk, noticing Moneypenny doing her best not to flush at their proximity, as he leans in toward her. "Oh, I just saw it, and immediately thought of you. Fresh, radiant, ready to be-"
"-plucked?…" finished Moneypenny, not flinching as James moves his face right up close to hers, wondering at the thought. It's then he notices her look behind him, flush with embarrassment, and return to her work.
Bond turns around and is faced with a familiar figure at the door at the far end of the office.
"I see all that ice hasn't frozen your charm, 007." quipped M, the harsh but fair head of the 00 section of MI6, a tough, ageing woman who lends both her employees a slightly disapproving look.
"Some things never change, M." replied Bond, himself trying to hide a touch of embarrassment.
M nodded. "Indeed. Shall we?…" she said as she motions back towards her office adjoining her secretaries. Bond soon follows, leaving the flushed Moneypenny clutching her red rose.
A converted antique lounge is the basis for M's official domain in the mansion, a lounge filled with classic furnishing alongside a futuristic desk near the fireplace, below a painting.
M heads to her desk and automatically begins pouring them both a drink as 007 closes the door.
Bond surveys the surroundings. "Nice office. I had no idea MI6 had such good taste."
"They don't," M replied as Bond sits at the desk as she places the bourbon short in front of him, sitting opposite. "If they did, we wouldn't have all this technology taking away the beauty of the place."
"Eye of the beholder, M." replied Bond, observing his boss look unsure at the validity of the remark as she sips her drink. "So, why have I been summoned?…"
M keeps him waiting a moment as she finishes her bourbon and then proceeds to tap several buttons on her desk keyboard, which lead the painting above her desk to give way to a viewscreen which displays the ID file on a beautiful female agent, which James observes keenly.
"48 hours ago," M began. "We intercepted a distress signal sent out by Zoe Nightingale, an agent of the CIA. She has subsequently disappeared, we believe somewhere here in Barcelona."
"What interest do we have in a CIA agent?…" Bond asked, sipping his bourbon gently, not really being a fan of the stuff.
"Apart from the fact our American friends expect us to be interested, Nightingale was investigation Botanicon, a Spanish-based botanical research firm headed by the late Marlin Vibert." M reported.
The interest of Bond was here further piqued. "My friend from Hawaii. Go on."
M continued. "Based on what you found in Hawaii, our long-time suspicions that Botanicon is a front for bio-weapons smuggling have now been confirmed. It seems Ms. Nightingale vanished after retrieving a package from the Botanicon research facility in Madrid, that would unequivocally prove this…"
"And?…" ventured Bond, noticing M has momentarily stopped short of continuing.
"And explain why Vibert stole a CIA data file on her that formed the basis of the microchip you retrieved in Hawaii, the one he was trading Reginald Balfour." said M, who saw the cogs ticking over in 007's mind.
"I'm more interested in why Balfour would have wanted her file," admitted Bond. "Who was pulling his strings…"
"Perhaps we can find the answers to all these questions if we find the package" M offered.
Bond nodded. "Which first means finding Nightingale."
"I doubt you'll have any trouble tracking her down, 007," said M, with the barest hint of a smile. "She is a woman, after all."
Bond examined the ID file of the CIA agent on the screen before him as he finishes his drink, and faces his boss.
"It'll be a pleasure."
BARCELONA,
THE NEXT MORNING.
The morning sun shines bright and warm on the classic old streets of the city, back to normal after the carnival of the previous evening. The BMW drives through the streets with Bond at the wheel, he enjoying the atmosphere of the area, still buzzing with carnival fever.
He turns into a street filled with bars and clubs, parking the BMW outside an underground-based club, the Casaba. Bond steps out of the car and secures it with central locking, heading over to the club where two burly bouncers stand. He gives them a cheeky smile as he enters, the bouncers viewing his car with enthusiastic interest.
The Casaba is a gentleman's club that tries to be classy, hiding beneath it a dingy parlour of 24-hour lap dancing and seediness. Dressed extremely well, 007 doesn't look a bit out of place as he enters, eyeing up the near-naked table dancers as he arrives.
He reaches the bar where a barman stands ready to serve. "Yes, sir?…"
007 looked around the club environs as he spoke. "Tell Mauritzio that James Bond is here to see him."
"Of course." replied the barman. "And sir will have to drink?…"
"Vodka, on the rocks." Bond said, still checking out the club, looking for potential sudden exits in case things happened to turn ugly, a situation the agent had faced many a time before. He sees the barman click his fingers at a younger subordinate, who starts pouring the ordered drink.
Bond takes the drink as the barman leads him through a nearby private door, into a rather luxurious manager's office.
At a gargantuan desk is Mauritzio, an ageing Italian crafty rogue, who fondles a Spanish dancer sitting on his lap, while bouncers surround him. Mauritzio shows clear surprise at his visitor, pleasure coupled with caution. "Secret agent James Bond, my God!…"
"How's business, Mauritzio?…" Bond enquired. "Still keeping the Mafia at bay, I see." He moved further into the office, at which point Mauritzio waved away his suspicious bouncers and pats the bum of the dancer as she leaves the office with the bouncers.
Mauritzio smiles at his guests' remark. "After this long in exile, I should think they don't care whether I live or die. And with friends like you, they'd never dare touch me."
"It's friends like me, Mauritzio, that forced you into exile." Bond reminded him, gently.
"I may miss Italy, but I live well, is all that matters. Have a seat." invited Mauritzio,
007 taking up the offer, sitting opposite the useful contact, the two sharing a cigarette.
"So, what can I do for England's finest?…" asked Mauritzio, the tip of the cigarette pursed in his mouth as he speaks. "You come for woman, I can get you many."
Bond smiled at the offer. "Just one will do for today. One in particular, a CIA agent, name of Zoe Nightingale." He slides a picture of her in front of Mauritzio, who's eyes widen.
"Very nice, Mr Bond, I see your standards haven't dropped." Mauritzio laughed. "Business or…pleasure."
"Business, for now." Bond admitted. "Can you track her down for me?."
"The usual expenses apply, even to such good friends as us." Mauritzio equally admitted. Drawing on his cigarette, Bond nods, Mauritzio handing him back the picture.
"She has been using my courier service for the last few days steadily, getting CIA money and documentation. I suspect she's gone underground." said Mauritzio, intriguing 007.
"Safe deposit box?…" asked Bond, Mauritzio nodding.
"For the location, the price goes up." he said. "I do have a living to make, after all."
Bond smiled with a nod, taking a drag of his smoke. "Name your price."
Mauritzio laughs, showing nothing but warmth to Bond, even still with slight caution.
Later, as Bond exits the club, the bouncers eye him with suspicion as he heads over to the BMW, unlocking it and jumping inside. Two sinister-looking Spaniards, Ager and Marcos, watch the BMW drive off from a car nearby. They start their vehicle and pursue.
-
In an upmarket part of the city, an old building, which used to be a somewhat gothic bank, has been converted into a gymnasium for the wealthy. Bond pulls up in the car park area outside and exits his BMW, heading into the building while making sure he's not been followed. He fails to notice Ager and Marcos pull up in their car across the road.
007 enters through the main entrance, observing the gym areas filled with advanced fitness machines, nearby a locker room area. He enters the room filled with dozens of lockers in multiple lines. He begins searching for one in particular, the CIA locker. Bond gets funny looks from several gym users nearby, he smiling to placate them.
Eventually, he finds the locker he was looking for, number 47. He withdraws a credit card concealing a lockpick, prizing open the door. Inside, Bond finds several wads of pesetas, plus passports to different parts of the world, all unused. He finds this strange.
-
A taxi pulls up on the bustling street, the rear passenger door opening, a pair of sexy legs inside a smart skirt revealed. Zoe Nightingale, a beautiful, petite woman in her late-twenties, with a perfect figure, matching brains, brawn and a touch of feminine elegance, emerges.
Zoe pays the taxi driver and checks she's not being watched, before entering the gym. Across the road, Ager and Marcos see her and withdraw guns which they click ready for use, stepping out of their car.
-
The locker is searched fully by Bond, who finds no pertinent documents. He looks down the locker corridor, seeing the reflection of Zoe approaching from the entrance in a mirror directly across. Bond quickly begins closing the locker as Zoe steps down the corridor, he having vanished by the time she reaches her locker, key ready.
Zoe stops as she sees the lock picked, going on alert and looking around. She turns to look back down the corridor, where Ager and Marcos appear. Before she can draw her gun, Zoe is fired at by Ager and Marcos, who run down the locker corridor towards her, Zoe diving to the side.
She lands at the feet of Bond, hiding behind the locker, now clicking his gun ready. He smiles at a quite perplexed Zoe. "Ms. Nightingale, isn't it?…" he asked.
Afraid for her life, Zoe stands frozen as Ager appears, cracked over the head by Bond with the gun he holds. As Ager falls to the ground, 007 jumps out in front of Marcos, shooting him twice in the chest, before grabbing Zoe, pulling her with him as he runs down the corridor.
"Come on!." he shouted, Zoe taking the hint not to fight him on this.
Ager rises, helping up Marcos as he exposes a bulletproof vest that cushioned the bullets, the two thugs running after them.
Bond and Zoe dash out of the locker area into the main part of the gym, avoiding a hail of bulletfire from Ager and Marcos. The bullets smash the gym mirrors and force the customers to hit the floor screaming, or flee for their lives any way they can.
As Zoe begins firing back at them with her weapon, 007 starts toppling the gym machinery as Ager and Marcos begin gaining on them. The chase extends over the full gym area, bullets being exchanged between both parties, until they reach the far end of the gym.
Bond starts fistfighting Ager with difficulty, while Zoe uses her high-kicking skills to batter Marcos, she getting the upper hand. Zoe kicks him to the floor and raises eyebrows at an impressed 007.
"Hmmm. Not bad for a girl." He quips.
In a blur motion, Ager pushes Bond aside, runs at Zoe and dives, the two crashing through a window that adjoins the first floor gym roof, a spray of sharp glass flying in all directions as the window explodes outward, Ager and Zoe flying through, rolling quickly down the roof tiling towards a hard drop.
Responding fast, Bond jumps through the window and slides down the roof, his feet landing on the drain pipe Zoe is clutching onto. "Help me, I'm slipping!…" she cried.
Steadying his feet on the drain pipe, Bond pulls Zoe up fast, both seeing Ager dazed having landed in the alleyway below.
"Who the hell are you!…" Zoe asks while catching her breath back. 007 goes to respond but sees Marcos coming at them out the window, gun ready.
"Later." he simply replies. Bond then grabs Zoe and both jump onto the roof of the next building, dodging the bulletfire coming from Marcos gun as he pursues. They begin leaping from roof to roof as they escape Marcos, pursuing and blazing his gun, determined to hit them.
Pulling out his keys, Bond activates the BMW and it automatically starts up and begins following the signal from the keys. Ager runs out of the alleyway to his own car and gives chase to the BMW. The BMW speeds down the street, avoiding oncoming traffic as it keeps up with Bond and Zoe's running, they coming to the last roof.
Although Zoe goes to stop, 007 keeps running and forces them both to jump dangerously off the roof, freefalling to the ground. The BMW skids to a sudden halt below them, the roof retracting, allowing them to literally drop into the car, the roof sliding back. Ager's pursuing car fails to stop in time and ploughs into the back of the BMW, exploding on impact in a huge blast.
From the roof above, Marcos watches this with anger as the BMW speeds off, without a scratch.
-
The gorgeous interior leather design adds to the sleekness of the car, now being driven at fast pace by Bond. In the passenger seat, Zoe watches the fiery exploding car from behind and turns to face her rescuer, somewhat startled at the events that have just taken place.
"How the hell are we still alive?…" she asked, not entirely rhetorically.
Bond himself wondered. "I ask myself the same question every day. And to answer your question, the name's Bond…James Bond."
Zoe nods at hearing the name, Bond pleased he's found who he's been looking for.
-
A traditional flamengo barn lies at the heart of a beautiful plaza where the culmination of the several day carnival is coming to a head, the warm darkness now falling over the city.
Bond and Zoe are sharing a drink at the bar, watching expert flamengo dancers do their stuff in the plaza, egged on by a crowd.
"So, you work for the British secret service," Zoe said. "I take it they got my distress signal. Too bad the CIA didn't."
"The money and documentation in your locker was CIA issue." Bond reminded her as he sipped his martini.
Zoe nodded. "It's for any underground agents with the correct access code. There is no way the CIA would know for sure it was me using the locker."
"You may have used the locker, but you didn't take what was inside…" said Bond, a hint of suspicion in his voice concerning her motives, which Zoe instantly recognises.
Bond continued. "Strange that passports and money would go unused by a spy trying to get out of the country."
"Who said I was?…" replied Zoe, at which point Bond's suspicion turned to curiosity. Zoe senses this too, and laughs at it. "I get the feeling you have more questions than answers."
"We know about the package you stole from Botanicon. It's why you've gone underground, " said Bond, fishing for confirmation. "What was in it?…"
Zoe is instantly coy with information, doing her best to avoid Bond's fixed look on her, waiting for answers that never come.
"Whatever it is, Botanicon are willing to risk exposure and kill you for it." Bond reminded her. "If you won't tell me voluntarily, there are techniques to make you talk." he added, with a flirtatious undertone.
Zoe smiled as she held her mochito at her lips. "I'm not that easy to break."
"I'm a man who likes a challenge." Bond replied, detecting as does Zoe a sexual subtext in both their words which has actually brought them physically closer to each other, both moving in as if to kiss. Zoe, though, looks over at the dancers in the plaza finishing their moves to rapturous applause.
"Care to put your money where your mouth is?…" enquired Zoe, smiling as James raises an eyebrow of curiosity when Zoe nods towards the dancers. Nodding his understanding, Bond polishes off his drink and heads over to the DJ controlling the flamengo music from inside the bar, now ending. Zoe sees Bond briefly exchange words with the DJ, who then starts up the music as 007 returns and beckons to the plaza.
"Would madam like to dance?…" he asked. With a smile, Zoe takes Bond's offered hand and they enter the plaza.
The crowds stop dispersing as the flamengo music starts up again, all watching Bond and Zoe take their marks at the core of the plaza. The two begin flamengo dancing as well as, if not better than, the actual flamengo dancers, twirling and gliding over the plaza.
Bond and Zoe enjoy the dancing, as do the enthusiastic crowds around them. Even the professional dancers at the side clap, impressed.
Someone takes photos of the dancers from across the plaza as they flamengo, a person unseen.
The flamengo dance ends with Zoe held in Bond's arms, huge applause ranging across the plaza. The two dancers gaze into each other's eyes.
Zoe grinned, clearly enamoured of the man before her. "You're a man of many talents, Mr Bond…"
Bond nods, holding Zoe close, looking at her lustfully. "But, remember, this is business." she added.
"Let's put pleasure before business, shall we?…" Bond said, Zoe not repelling Bond as he leans in and kisses her. The two remain still while the crowd in the plaza all begin dancing to new music.
-
A cool breeze drifts through the window into the warm hotel bedroom where champagne, glasses and clothes lie strewn around, the warmer evening having now begun turning into an even warmer night.
Bond and Zoe are making passionate love in her beautiful four-poster bed. The two roll around, kissing and fondling one another.
The sex grows more intense, steaming up the room.
-
An attractive old balcony looks out onto the plaza below where the party is still going on inside the bar and outside. Barely dressed, Bond emerges from the bedroom and begins taking the warm night air, watching the merriment going on below.
Scantily clad in a bedsheet wrapped around her, Zoe emerges onto the balcony and proceeds to passionately kiss Bond. She holds him as he keeps looking out.
"What are you thinking, James?…" she enquired, sensing the concern he is radiating.
Bond replied. "I'm thinking that we were attacked earlier because someone out there, knows we are here. Someone's one step ahead of us."
Zoe says nothing as Bond turns to face her seriously. "I need to know what was in that package, why it is you're risking your life by staying here."
At first she is reluctant, but Zoe sees Bond's thirst for knowledge, that he really does need to know. And not just because of his government's orders, but because of her. Because it's now become personal. "Let me show you something…" she said, heading back into the bedroom, 007 following her after one last concerned look into the plaza.
His intuition seems to be correct. Down in the plaza, someone wearing slinky black silk gloves is taking photographs of both, a shadowy, possibly female figure who then slinks away.
-
From under the grande four-poster bed, Zoe removes a golden briefcase marked 'Botanicon', which she places on the bed. Bond observes it with interest, reaching to open it up.
"I took this from Identicon's building in Madrid after an infiltration mission, looking for proof of biological weapons smuggling." announced Zoe, as 007 opens up the case and finds four vials secured inside.
"Genetic DNA materials, corresponding to England, France, China and the USA,
the four major global industrial powers." Zoe said, as Bond viewed the vials with curiosity.
"The DNA of whom?…" asked Bond, to which Zoe began shaking her head.
She said. "I'm hoping I can find that out by getting the matching case I failed to
retrieve from Botanicon before I was forced to go underground. That's why I
haven't left, I need that case."
Bond began to nod, now understanding her actions. Zoe is relieved she's got someone to share her burden with.
"I was afraid of this, James." she admitted. "I think Botanicon were experimenting with illegal human cloning."
Bond nodded his agreement, based on the evidence. "We need that second case."
"It won't be easy." Zoe warned. "They're watching us now, they'll be expecting us."
"Then, let's not disappoint them." Bond replied, smiling at Zoe, who returns the gesture but isn't as confident as he is at success. That they'll get out of this one with their lives.
-
Inside a car parked near the BMW in the plaza, Marcos is in the driving seat listening to the conversation through a bugging device. Next to him is the slinky figure, her hand rubbing the gearstick suggestively as she listens to the two lovers talk.
The mysterious, possibly female figure sits dressed all in black, a sexy mask covering her features. It's clear, however, she's interested in the good guys, but in a very dark way. She is known as 'The Jacqual'……