Chapter 2 – Spare me the lecture.
"Did you enjoy it?"
Bond stared into the calm eyes of his superior, refusing to flinch or budge as they launched yet another tirade at him and his 'hot-headed approach'.
"Well?" M demanded, asking it him seriously in a disapproving manner, which conveyed both the answer that he wanted to hear, and the answer he would actually hear. Bond continued to stare down the cold eyes, refusing to walk into another of M's well laid traps. Besides, it was obvious that it would make no difference to the next line that was coming. Almost right on cue, M spoke again, this time more softly. "You destroyed any evidence we could get linking somebody to the assassination attempt on you." Bond knew this, he knew how foolish he had been, yet after all these years he had over time become unworried about death, it seemed to look lightly on him, and Bond always took delight in tempting it again and again.
What he said next though, really hit Bond hard, partly out of lack of expectance, partly out of the mutual respect of the relationship. "It doesn't matter, you're only a double-0, we can find another" Bond eyes flickered, betraying the calmity he had been showing up until now. M saw, and leaned onto the table, staring him down in a professional and lethal manner. "We're assigning you to Operation Hawk, to keep you out of the way in case you're still a target. Her Majesty's Government would rather not be involved in yet another foreign crisis. Bill will fill you in on the details." Bond stood without even acknowledging these orders, and moved to the door, placing his hand on the door handle softly. He felt defeated and deflated; he was getting too old for this kind of stuff. He had even considered threatening to resign, but M knew him too well. Just before he turned the door knob, M's voice cut through the silence, but this time the words were welcome. "007... I'm sorry about Alec" Bond turned his head to look at M, nodding slightly whilst avoiding any eye contact before opening the door and sliding out.
He gave the usual smile to Monnypenny, but didn't involve himself in any friendly banter, she'd understand. She obviously knew what Bond had just been reprimanded about; she knew far more than she ever let on. She was a smart girl, Bond thought to himself, much smarter than most he met. In this ever changing world in which he lived in, she stayed the same. He quickly arrived at the Chief of Staff's office, and walked in to his secretary, who immediately sent him though to Bill. Bill looked up at James, and recognising his face immediately, smiled and offered him a seat.
"James, am I glad to see your face!"
Bond look more relaxed and at ease now. Bill had long been a more friendly face than M, who's 'number crunching' often put Bond at odds, even if it was sometimes at the expense of Bill wasted no time in getting to the point.
"Listen James, I'll be frank with you. You're little stunt last week didn't go down well."
Bond just kept his stare. "It was an assassination attempt. I've seen them before"
"We've decided….. to put you on a more low-key operation for now"
"So that my assassin doesn't compromise anything important?!"
"No. Because you screwed up James. You didn't keep your cool, and now M has decided that you are not to be trusted because of….. emotional aspects"
Bond knew this was coming. He had made an error in judgement, not on last week, but on Trevelyan, and he was to pay the price. He sighed. "What's Operation Hawk then" he asked half-heartedly.
Bill shuffled over some papers.
"Take a look"
Bond stepped off the plane into the sunlight. It felt good to be travelling again, it would help him relax. Perhaps this new assignment would actually help him. He doubted it, he'd been in the service a long time. You never healed from wounds, just tried not to limp with them. Eventually he would die. Bond laughed at this thought. Dying wasn't really something he considered given his incredible luck. Operation Hawk was simple enough in its concept he assured himself, but there was no assured date of completion. It was an observance mission, it could take months, it could take days. Customs was easy; the passport was enough to get him through. None of that cumbersome paperwork. Bond collected the package waiting for him, and noting the number written on it took the keys out of the package and strode outside into the Brazilian sunlight.
Speeding down the road towards São Paulo, Bond felt the wind blow through his hair, feeling alive again. Gripping the leather handles of the Virage, he thought silently to himself about the new assignment. A former Cuban official was seeking refuge. Carlos Dion was deemed to have sufficient knowledge to be of worth to his country, and would probably give him immunity in return for the said knowledge. It was corruption, but that wasn't Bond's job, he just did the dirty work. Bond was to monitor him, and if deemed safe, make contact. He would probably face opposition from both the Russians and Americans, and was not to form alliances with either of them. At least, none that let them get away with the prize. São Paulo was a sprawling spree of concrete, forestation sprouted every here and there, but for the most part it was just people, overpopulated, and just brimming with them. It would make it much easier to watch Dion from here. All Bond had to do now was find his apartment, then he could make observe, and assess the situation. In all honesty? Bond was starting to regret this, it just felt like he had been swept out of the way to do the dirty work usually assigned to the new recruits. This was effectively a demotion. Was Bond getting too old? He wasn't sure. He was nowhere near the 45 age limit, but…. Maybe they saw him as just the old service, all adventure and espionage without any regard for the consequences. The bloody bureaucrats had even given Bond a policy regarding women now; was he really a relic of the cold war… like M said. Bond shook these thoughts off instantly, whatever it was, it was not his place to think about it, he was just the tool of his officers. Besides, it would distract him from the mission to dwell on it. Climbing up the ladder onto the top of the small building, he looked out past the tree, over the park and over to the Hotel Grande, where Dion was staying. He reached down to his side, feeling the bumpy surface of the binoculars, and pulled them up to his eyes. He gazed into the world ahead, keeping his eyes peeled for the room he was supposed to be looking for. This could take time, but he had all the time in the world.
He had been right, it did take time, but eventually the room he had been looking for had caught his eye. He had been told to look for the blue curtains on the 5th floor. The curtains were closed, but he hadn't really expected otherwise. Well, now began the long process of waiting. This was the kind of stuff they liked to leave out of the Hollywood films, the less glamourous side of her majesty's secret service. He sat down on the terrace wall and rested; the heat of the Brazillian sun resting heavy on his nerves. Any mess ups on a simple job like this would just seek to further humiliate him. He brought up the binoculars to his eyes and...
Bond suddenly felt the cold steel of a gun barrel protrude into his neck. He froze. A familiar and weathered voice followed it.
'Well, look what we have here'