02/The Ice Princess of CSIS
The retrieval of his luggage put Bond at ease. He stood near the entrance of the Ottawa Macdonald-Cartier International Airport with his hands in his coat pockets fingering his pack of cigarettes. M had said that his contact would meet him, but he didn't saw who or when. Bond glanced at his watch. It was ten-thirty am and Bond desperately needed a drink-a full one.
"Monsieur Bond?" said a voice. Bond turned and saw a small man standing beside him. The man was bald, save for the hair around his hears. He had a long face with a straight nose and blue eyes. He wore a grey suit with a blue tie. He seemed a bit pudgy, but that might have been because of the large sports coat. The man stuck his hand out.
"Marc Drake, CSIS sent me to bring you to your partner." He said. Bond shook his hand. Marseille picked up Bond's suitcase and led him out if the airport. The air was warm and filled Bond's lungs. He stretched in the doorway and breathed deep. The air was fresher than that in England, crisper too. There was also no snow. Bond looked around and chuckled. Stupid Stereotypical thinking, he thought. It's June.
Drake let him to a slick black Cadillac and they slipped into the back. Bond sank into the leather seat as Marseille gave the driver their destination. The two then sat back as the car began to move.
"So, we're off to meet the Ice Princess." Drake said. Bond opened the window and pulled out a cigarette. He lit it and took a long drag before flicking it out the window.
"The Ice Princess?" he inquired. Drake laughed.
"That what we call her at CSIS." He replied. "You'll be staying with her at the Chateau Laurier." He handed Bond a folder. Bond opened it and read the pages inside. They concerned their cover, the accounts to access the money M sent them and their objectives.
"Do you know anything about SNOWBLINDE?" Bond asked. Drake shook his head.
"Unfortunately. But we have started to infiltrate their network and found their connection to SPECTER. But the main reason why we called you here is to investigate further into SNOWBLINDE."
"I see." Bond said. He took out another cigarette and lit it, gazing out the window.
They arrived at the Chateau Laurier at eleven. The driver took Bond's things in and Marseille led the agent up the steps. Bond saw a girl standing by the entrance and knew immediately that she was the Ice Princess Drake was speaking of. When she saw the two, the girl walked briskly towards them. She wore a masculine looking pantsuit with, what Bond could hear to be, large, leather high heels. Her long brown hair was tied back in a complex knot, revealing a very girlish face with a small nose and small, pink mouth. Her crystal blue eyes glared at the two as if to say "You're late." Bond looked at Drake and his eyes seemed to say "I told you so." The Ice Princess' skin was lightly tanned and gleaming in the late morning sun.
"I see you've been waiting." Drake said. "Monsieur Bond, please meet Mademoiselle Winters, your partner." There was a silence as the Ice Princess stared into Bond's eyes. She shifted ever slightly, only Bond noticed. Drake coughed. "Well," he said, "I'll go make sure the reservations are set and let you two get acquainted." He disappeared into the hotel. The two stared at each other some more.
"French or English?" Bond asked finally.
"English," the Ice Princess replied. "Pourtant, je parle Français très bien. The name's Kate. I don't have to ask who you are. Do you always look this rundown, Mr. Bond?"
"I'm sorry, I was rushed over from England and I had no time to clean up before our meeting, where as you, Miss Winters, despite your ice-like disposition, are quite attractive." Bond replied
"Well, that makes one of us." Kate said coldly. "Are you as good as they say, Mr. Bond?"
"It depends on what you've heard." Bond replied. "I'm good at many things."
"I'm talking espionage." Kate snapped.
"Of course I'm good." Bond said bluntly. "They wouldn't have sent me if I wasn't."
"Yet what about your last mission?" Kate inquired. "From what I heard, you were captured and held hostage for three days in a boiler room with no clothes and you only escaped because the guard got drunk that night."
"You've done your homework, Miss Winters." Bond commented.
"I'm a grade A student." She replied. "Lets see…" Kate folded her arms under her well formed breasts, "James Bond…Son of Andrew Bond and Monique Delacroix. Born in Germany and orphaned at the age of eleven. Joined the Secret Service at the age of twenty-six, became a Double-O after assassinating a Japanese cipher expert in New York and killing a Norwegian double agent. One of your first missions was to bankrupt a man at the casino in Royale-les-Eaux in France where you fell in love with one Vesper Lynd. Yet she committed suicide and you became the cold hearted James Bond who later became involved with many other women. One of them became your wife, but she died too."
"How do you know all this?" Bond asked, surprised.
"There are walls and Walls, Mr. Bond." Kate said, "Unfortunately, MI6 dose not have the latter." She walked to the edge of the stairs and looked out.
"I see," Bond said, "Tell me, Miss Winters-"
"Call me Kate." She interjected
"Tell me, Kate." Bond started again, "Did the higher-ups of CSIS tell you our cover?"
"No…"
"Apparently, we are a couple madly in love and taking a holiday here in Canada. Before I met you I assumed we were a straight couple, though"
"Great." She said sarcastically. "Do we have to share a room?"
"No, we have a joint bathroom suite."
"Good. I need to change into something less professional; we're meeting your friend Leiter for lunch."
"Are you going to change into something that doesn't make you look like a boy?" Bond asked. Kate turned and walked into the hotel. Bond smiled and followed her.
The two checked in and took the elevator up to their floor. They were silent in the enclosed room. Bond observed that Kate could not be any older than twenty-two. He wondered how someone so young could be so cold. She stared straight forward her hand resting on her large purse that she had slung over her shoulder. When the doors opened, Kate walked briskly out and led Bond towards their rooms. She took the card key from the British agent and swiped it in the reader. Bond heard a click in the lock. Kate opened the door and looked into the dim room. She turned back to Bond.
"I'll be keeping the bathroom door locked for a while. Get changed, have a drink then knock on the door. See you for lunch, darling." Her final words were dripping with harsh sarcasm. She walked into the room and closed the door in Bond's face.
"Ice Princess indeed." Bond muttered as he entered his own room. He flicked on the light and began to check around the room. He went to the air vent first. Nothing. Then the windows and TV, no bugs. He stepped into the bathroom and looked around. The white tiled room gleamed in the light from the open window. Nothing in there either.
Bond walked back into the bedroom and went straight for the mini bar. He made himself a scotch on the rocks and sat back on the chair by the window that looked out onto the Ottawa River. He thought of Kate and her body. She had all the curves he liked in a woman and he was greatly considering breaking down the adjoining door. Yet with another sip of scotch he was calm. She's like Vesper in many ways, he thought. But quickly dismissed the thought when his heart began to hurt.
The agent got up and looked for his suitcase. It lay on the bed unopened. He opened the case and took out a white button-down shirt and beige slacks with a matching sports jacket. He changed and slipped on a pair of black, leather loafers as he finished his glass. Bond knocked on the bathroom door.
Bond waited patiently, and then the door opened. Before him stood Kate. She wore a tight, white dress shirt and a short black skirt. Her bare legs were smooth and she wore a pair of black sandal-like high heels. Her hair was wet and piled over her left shoulder.
"You look like a girl again." Bond commented.
"You don't look half bad yourself, James." She smiled.
"I see that I'm melting the Ice Princess of CSIS." Bond laughed.
"It's called acting, Mr. Bond."