A.N. Obviously, I own none of the characters, vehicles, gadgets or locations of this fanfic unless I say otherwise in an A.N. like this one. Kudos to MGM and Ian Fleming for inventing them and bringing them all to life.

MI6 Headquarters, London

As the three agents entered the Q-Labs, having lost M and Robinson somewhere along the way, Q walked up to them, looking uncharacteristically annoyed.

"Now pay attention, 007… and 006, and 003, I suppose. Although I doubt you two have the attention span of a gnat, like Bond here. This had better all be returned in usable condition, because rather than making four or five gadgets for one operative, I have had to make several more, in order to give each of you enough pieces of equipment. Of course, M wanted you to have a model of each of five gadgets each, but you will have to have different ones, because we currently don't have the funds to spend on fifteen things like this. The budget overspending is going through the roof these days. You wouldn't believe…"

Miranda cleared her throat.

Q shook himself, and turned, leading them over to the other side of the lab. "Yes, anyway, your equipment."

He picked up two stylish, diamond-studded rings from a table, and handed one to Miranda. Deliberating, he then gave the other to Alec. Bond pretended to look saddened.

Q gave him a withering look. "Oh, grow up, 007. If it troubles you that much, think of it as the fact that you don't need one because you're too naturally stylish."

Alec badly disguised a disbelieving snort. Bond threw him a dirty look.

"These are single-digit, sonic agitator units, concealed within the three fake diamonds on the ring. Put the ring on, twist it so, and the diamonds will send out the barely audible sonic waves. Press your hand up to a sheet of glass, and it will instantly shatter. Understand?" Without waiting for a response, although he wouldn't have got one anyway, Q moved on to the next table along, ducking to avoid a fake cufflink being fired like a missile across the room.

"Now, lock-picks. For you, Bond, there's a credit-card lockpick, as I know your penchant for spending and wasting money will make you think of your wallet regularly. And for you, Miss Frost, we have an earring lockpick. Rather ironically, this is a Chinese Intelligence invention, although we have changed the colour and shape to match the normal pair of earrings you wore back in Iceland, to avoid suspicion."

Miranda put it on. "A bit heavy, but not bad." Bond's credit card was already tucked in his wallet.

Q led them across the room, passing a self-destructing toaster, a remote-controlled camera hidden in a Pepsi can, and a grenade disguised as a Cadbury's Easter egg.

"Here is a fountain pen, with a dual reservoir. One contains blue ink; one contains highly concentrated phosphoric acid." Q took off the lid, and drew a wide circle on the side of a telephone box nearby. He then twisted the bottom of the pen to one side, and drew over the circle again. This time, acrid fumes boiled off the circle, there was a quiet hissing noise, and a circular-shaped piece of metal fell to the floor with a clang.

"Quite good, Q, but nothing to write home about," Alec quipped.

Even Miranda groaned at that one. "No wonder you and him are friends!"

Shaking his head, Q handed Bond and Trevelyan one each. "Morons… Now, you should have two gadgets each, correct? Good. Now, here is something for all three of you."

He reached into his pocket and drew out three Omega Seamaster watches.

Bond inspected them. "We've all used these before, Q."

"Yes, well, I'll give you the details anyway. Better safe than cutting your own head off because you pressed the wrong button."

He indicated the main dial on the side, used the change the time. "Press this in, hold for three seconds, and let go, and a piton wire will fire from it, with a miniature grappling hook folding out in the process." He indicated another button. "Press and hold this one, and after two seconds, a high-intensity laser beam will fire out from this small hole in the side. Provided you keep the button held down, the beam will fire for thirty seconds, then need five seconds to fully recharge, after which you can use it for another thirty seconds, and so on." He indicated the last remaining button. "Press this and hold for five seconds, and this section of the watch," he indicated a small groove running around the watch will slide out of the other side, and start spinning; a high-speed circular saw."

He handed them one each." May I remind you that I want all of these gadgets returned in pristine condition?"

Pocketing their small collection of gadgets, the three double-0 agents were about to depart, when Miranda halted. "Wait. What about transport? How are we supposed to get there?" She turned back to Q and asked him.

"Your transport will be waiting at Beijing Capital International Airport. A man from Chinese Intelligence will give it over."

Alec frowned. "It had better not be a tuk-tuk."

"Don't worry; we supplied the vehicle. Just read the notes that I've put on the passenger's seat. They tell you what everything does. Now go; you'll be worrying and rushing enough to the airport as it is!"

As it turned out, the three agents neither rushed nor worried; with their cases already packed and stored, they were ushered by Robinson into a waiting black limousine, which sleekly pulled away from Vauxhall Street, and took them to Heathrow in about half the time it would usually take, due to a combination of back-streets, speeding, and clever avoidance of traffic-jam hotspots. They didn't have to check in, either, after three brief stops to show government ID, the limousine rounded the back of Terminal 3 and drew straight up to the doorway where the other passengers on the flight were due to gather. The British Airways Boeing 757-300 was a large plane, and was both economy- and first-class. The three agents were due to go into the first-class section. Handing them their plane tickets, the limousine driver accompanied them over to the plane, where they handed over the tickets and boarded. The limousine departed just before the other passengers left the terminal to walk over to the plane; there was no need to arouse unwanted interest. When the other passengers boarded, the few that also entered first-class didn't spare a glance for Bond, Trevelyan or Frost; all three were dressed relatively casually and perfectly blended in.

The plane rose into the cloudy skies right on schedule, and with the captain informing them of a strong tailwind due to last until they passed over Germany, the journey looked to be faster than usual. Although when the flight was going to last ten hours anyway, tailwinds could only help so much.

After downing his third vodka martini, Bond slipped off to sleep for a few hours. Miranda read two magazines cover-to-cover then decided to set the seat to the bed position and do the same. Alec lasted the longest; but after reading two whole novels back-to-back and starting a third, he was bored comatose and decided to sleep too.

After five whole hours of sleep, Alec awoke to discover that they weren't even near Iraq yet. Cursing nobody in particular, he read his third novel, and then played cards with James and Miranda to decide who bought the next round of drinks. It was Bond who lost out, and only Miranda's eagle-eyes stopped him from handing the air hostess his Q-Branch lockpick credit card. They played again, and this time Miranda lost, but avoided paying for a wine, a pint and a vodka martini by pointing out that if they had much more, they would end up drunk, to which the other two reluctantly agreed.

By the time the descent to the Chinese night finally began, Bond had resorted to walking laps of the cabin for fun, a scintillating sport which Miranda took up in order to grade the other passengers' level of style. Alec hummed all of the songs he knew three times over, and when the captain announced the impending landing at Beijing, he practically leapt out of his bed in joy. The other two returned to their seat-beds, gathered together their snacks, cards and books, and waited for touchdown.

Upon exiting the aircraft, they headed for the baggage tracks, and, as promised by the BA staff, their bags came off first. Grabbing them, they headed for the exit, glad to be out in the open night air.

Bond pointed to one man in the crowd of drivers and greeters holding up boards with names on. This particular individual was holding up one that read "Universal Exports."

"That's Mr. Chang. I know him from the past."

Chang's face lit up as he recognised Bond. "Mr. Bond! I hear you tracked down Mr. Zao. Did you say goodbye from us?"

"I didn't say that as such, but I think he got the point."

"Good, good. Follow me. I have your car waiting."

Rounding the darkened terminal, following Bond and Chang (deep in conversation), Miranda and Alec exchanged glances. This Chang was obviously a lunatic. He laughed at the most unfunny of Bond's jokes, and even at some of Bond's basic statements, and paused three times by a car in the car park, before inspecting it, realising the mistake, and moving on. The first was a motorbike. The second was a Chinese van resembling a Ford Transit. And the third was a huge coach. Finally, Chang found the right car, which was an Aston Martin DB9 and didn't even resemble any of the three he had stopped at before.

"If that Mao Xiang even resembles Chang here, we'll be on the next flight home, job done," Miranda whispered.

Alec sniggered, and inspected their new transport. It had a beautiful interior, and the back seats looked roomier than he imagined. Other than climate control and on-board computer controls, the dashboard also contained several less luxurious buttons, like "Badge Saw" and "Rear Machine-Guns".

Miranda got in, resigned to the fact that one of these playboy spies would be driving, and sat in the rear. She scanned Q's notes, glancing up to see the appropriate button. This thing was absolutely loaded. Front and rear machine-guns, side-panel missiles, a circular saw under the badge, mortars at the back of the boot, more missiles in the front, the old Vanquish Active Camouflage cloaking device, radar, thermal imaging, traction spikes in the tyres, smoke-screen, canisters of tyre spikes to drop behind, a titanium chassis, armour plating, ejector seats… the list went on and on and on. It even had sat-nav.

Bond thanked Chang, pocketed the keys, and gave Alec some co-ordinates to put into the sat-nav system. Apparently, they led to an office block, where Xiang used to work undercover. He had only recently left, and his desk hadn't been cleared out yet. There might be clues to pick up. Getting into the driver's seat, Bond fired up the engine.

"I drive next journey," Alec was quick to point out. Miranda rolled her eyes. Bond quickly got to know the controls, waited for the sat-nav to process Alec's instructions, and set off for the Huangshan Corporation office block.

"We will arrive in 18 minutes and 24 sec... no, 23 seconds," Alec announced. Bond raised an eyebrow. The average driver using sat-nav didn't drive like 007. If he didn't get there in less than quarter of an hour, he vowed to even give Miranda a drive before his next turn.

Behind, Chang folded his arms and watched the DB9 screech off in a cloud of smoke, destined for Xiang's last workplace. He turned to leave, and headed to the taxi rank, which would take him back to base.

In the bushes to his right, there was a small movement, which the Chinese agent didn't notice. A small click was heard, and suddenly Chang felt a bit queasy. He felt a stabbing pain in his neck, and instantly clapped a hand to the spot. A small dart was buried deep in his jugular vein. Chang staggered slightly, and limply fell to the ground as the poison flooded his bloodstream. The last thing Mr. Chang ever saw was a cloaked shape with powder-white face and hands rising from the bushes, inspecting Chang's dying form, and running off into the night.

Then the Chinese operative shuddered, gasped, and died.