Bond left her apartment the next morning, feeling fresh and, well, rejuvenated. Bushes of wild Jasmine grew around her rented house. He breathed in the smell of the flower that wore her nickname. Jasmine had reminded him of Wai Lin, yet she was so completely different, young and soft and…unspoiled. James smiled and took the path leading back to his hotel. Birds chirped in the trees, and briefly he wondered about the intensity of their chatter. How frowned but then he shrugged off the feeling of unease. Probably he should go bird-watching tomorrow, something he had not done in years.
An hour later, James reached his hotel. He had just gone upstairs when it happened. The floor beneath Bond's feet shifted, and he stumbled and fell. He tried to regain his footing but it was to no avail. Dust filled the air, and James coughed. The whole building shook. It had to be an earthquake, a rather strong one. Somehow he managed to get up and out of his room. Together with other tourists and the hotel staff he hurried downstairs. Once outside, Bond made sure to keep a safe distance.
Every tourist seemed to talk at the same moment, filling the air with mindless remarks. "The tourist agency said nothing about earthquakes in this region," a man told him. Bond left him standing there. He was not interested in the "I want my money back, I'll sue you" nonsense.
Most of all he wanted to contact MI-6 to find out if aftershocks were expected and if the local bureau needed assistance. Since the ground had finally stopped shaking, he judged it to be safe to hurry back to his rooms to get his mobile phone.
A good-looking room maiden blocked his way. "I'm sorry but I was instructed not to –" Her voice trailed off. Wide-eyed, she stared past him. Her taint paled to a chalky white, and she was hyperventilating. Then she ripped up her arm like a puppet on a string and pointed at something behind him. Her mouth opened as if to scream but no sound escaped it.
James had seen this expression of utter fear before, too often than he liked. Cursing silently, he grabbed his gun and spun around, ready to defend her and himself. He gasped in shock.
A giant wave was racing towards the shore like a nine-headed Hydra preying for food. Her mouths were wide open, and she would devour everything in her path. Higher and higher she grew while she sucked the water away from the shore. She would be over 28 feet high when she came crashing down on them. Her roaring filled Bond's ears. This enemy he could not battle.
"Tsunami!" someone screamed. Some tourists grabbed their cameras and ran down to the beach.
Bond shouted on the tops of his lungs, "Away from the beach! Run for your lives!"
A few of them halted and then continued running to the ocean as if he had cried "Wolf." He gritted his teeth. There was nothing he could do to make them see reason
Bewildered, yet strangely calm at the same time, James looked around. His car with all the built-in gadgets might have brought him far enough inland but he had left it at the MI-6 branch office 10 miles north. That left only one option: The hotel. With its three floors, it offered the highest chance to survive. All odds were against him but Bond had been in so many hopeless situations that he instinctively used every possibility to survive. He grabbed the hotel staff member by her arm and dragged her upstairs.
Moments later, the giant wave hit the shore, bringing doom to a peaceful peninsular.