A/N: I'd like to thank Cecilia, RebelByrdie, Andrea, and Mandy for their kind words. A special thanks to Mandy for setting me straight regarding the House Of Commons. I've went back and changed that. I also fixed a flub in the first chapter, where Bond recalls how Vesper died in Vienna. She actually died in Venice! Arrghh! Anyway, my thanks to everybody for the wonderful feedback. And now, on with the show...
Benson & Bond
Chapter Three
"Watch out for the…oh, you're gonna hit the woman! Ohhhh!" Olivia hid her eyes behind her fingers as Bond abruptly twisted the steering wheel of the Impala, just barely hitting an old woman who was obliviously crossing the street.
Bond stomped on the gas once more, driving the Impala straight through the intersection against traffic. Several cars came to a screeching halt in order to avoid hitting them.
"It's a miracle you haven't hit anybody!" Olivia said, dazed.
"I only hit the people whom I don't like," Bond curtly replied.
"Is that what you're gonna do once you catch up to the guys in that car?" Olivia asked. "Because if you're gonna ram them or something like that, you can just let me out right here!"
"I don't like being shot at," Bond said. "Especially from a drive-by shooting. I guess you could say it's one of my pet peeves."
"You could have told me this sooner," Olivia muttered. "Hell, you could have told me a lot of things sooner, Mr. Bond…like who you really are."
Bond shot her a quick look. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, c'mon, Mr. Bond, I've seen you in action," Olivia said with a slight chuckle. "You're more than just a cop. You act like a--WHOA!"
Bond stomped on the brake and twisted the Impala's steering wheel once more so that the car could make a tight turn that had just sprung up on them. Once the street straightened out, Olivia could see the car that shot at them just ahead. It was a big sedan with tinted windows. The brake lights abruptly lit up.
"Hey, are they stopping?" Olivia asked, her eyes fearfully wide. "Why are they stopping? What, are they giving up?"
Bond slowed the Impala to a halt just as all four doors of the tinted sedan flew open and several burly men with guns got out.
"I don't think so," Bond said grimly. "Get in the back seat. When I give the word, you go out the left back door onto the sidewalk."
Olivia was about to protest--until she saw the burly men begin to aim their automatic weapons right at the Impala. Bond didn't even give them the chance, he got out of the driver's side of the Impala and began shooting just as Olivia dived into the back seat.
"GO, LIV, GO!" she heard Bond shout over the boom of gunfire.
With a grunt, Olivia opened the rear door and lunged into the street, where she landed with a roll in between two parked cars. The first thing she did was pull out her Glock--and it was a good thing, because of the man who came up on her with an automatic in his hands. He made a motion to aim the gun at her when Olivia abruptly fired wildly at him with the Glock.
She must have hit him, because the man flinched sharply and fell to the ground.
Olivia got to her feet, her gun still drawn on the downed man. She glanced over and saw the gunfight in the street was over, but she couldn't see Bond.
She bent down to check on the man whom she shot, and saw that he was dead. 'Damn it!' she thought. Although she was perfectly within her rights to shoot him--he was about to kill her, after all--Olivia had wanted him alive, just to find out what organization he was working for.
"Olivia!" Bond called from the street.
"Over here!" she replied.
Bond came over and looked surprised to see her hunched over the body. "You shoot him?"
"I had to," she replied, sharply. "He was about to kill me."
"I wasn't going to debate that," Bond said. "Good for you."
Olivia stood up and pointed her Glock at Bond. "That's great. Then let's debate something else, like who the fuck you really are, Mr. Bond."
Bond slowly held up his hands. "Hey, Olivia, I'm on your side, remember?"
"But you're not from Scotland Yard, are you?" she said. "Like I was just about to tell you before, after seeing you in action, I know you're not just a regular cop. So who are you, really?"
"I'm with MI6," Bond said. "We're the British equivalent of your CIA."
Olivia was startled. "You're a spy?"
"Yes, I work in the Double O sector. My code name is 007."
"Why are you telling me all of this?" Olivia asked. "Isn't this supposed to be top secret, or something?"
"You're holding a gun at me," Bond reminded her.
Olivia quickly brought the gun down. Several dark sedans with flashing red lights came charging up the street at them.
"Everything else I've told you is the truth," Bond said, his eyes intense with sincerity. "I swear. I hope this doesn't change anything, because I could still use your help with this case."
The cars came to a screeching halt in front of them as Olivia holstered her gun. She held up her police badge as several men in suits and sunglasses got out of the cars.
"NYPD!" Olivia called. "And this man…he's with me."
"Thanks, Olivia," Bond whispered.
"Don't mention it," she muttered. Olivia frowned when the men aimed their guns up at them. "Hey, I said I was NYPD!"
"Get down on the ground, now!" one of the men with sunglasses ordered.
"They look like Feds," Olivia furtively said to Bond. "Looks like we're both going to get arrested anyway."
"Wouldn't be the first time for me," Bond cheerfully replied.
"Me, too," Olivia said, as she lay face down on the ground. "Wish I had a nickel for every time I got busted."
"Seriously?" Bond grinned at her as he also got down on the ground. "We've got to get together and swap war stories sometime."
"Both of you, shut up!" one of the men shouted as they came over, their guns drawn.
Olivia grunted as one of the Feds frisked her, removing her gun and badge. Then her wrists were cuffed behind her back and she was roughly lifted to her feet and escorted to one of the cars.
"See you later, Olivia," Bond called, as he was also escorted--handcuffed--to another car.
"Yeah," Olivia manage to call, just before she was shoved into the back seat of the sedan. One of the Federal Agents was sitting there, waiting for her. As she sat down next to him, Olivia said, "Um, ok, I know this looks bad, but I really am a police officer. I'm with the Manhattan Special Victim's Unit, out of the one-six precinct. My commander is Captain Donald--"
"For the last time," the federal agent said, "shut up, bitch!"
Olivia was grabbed from behind by another agent, as the man who sat next to her gagged her mouth with several strips of duct tape. Olivia tried to struggle as a hood was placed down over her head, and then she was shoved onto the floor of the car.
"Bruno, get us the fuck out of here," the man called, sounding annoyed.
Olivia was helplessly tossed about on the floor as the car sped off. 'Holy shit!' she thought in a wild panic. 'If they're not Feds, then who the hell are these guys?!'
B&B
'Oh shit,' Elliot thought, as he arrived at the scene.
CSU was already there in droves, working in and around a sedan with tinted windows. Behind it was parked the NYPD-issued Impala that Elliot last saw Olivia in. But there was no sign of her, or of that blond-haired guy she was with.
Captain Siper of the Crime Scene Unit came over to him and said, "Lot of bullet casings--mainly from automatics, but we got a few shells from a Glock over on the side of the street."
"No bodies?" Elliot asked.
"None whatsoever," Siper replied. "There're signs of bodies: plenty of blood here and there. But it looked like they were swept up before we got here."
"Swept up by who?" Elliot wondered.
Siper shrugged her shoulders. "Sorry detective, but that's your job, not mine. If you'll excuse me."
'Where the hell is Liv?' Elliot thought with concern. The talk about bodies being removed had scared him badly. 'Hope Olivia wasn't among--no, I can't even think that. God damn it, I just got Liv back, I can't lose her again!'
When Cragen arrived, Elliot quickly filled him in. Cragen eyed the scene somberly. "Looks like the gunfight at the OK Corral happened here."
"Yeah, they found some bullets from a Glock over on the side of the street there," Elliot pointed. "Looks like Liv gave as good as she got."
"Where is she?" Cragen asked.
"Don't know," Elliot replied, looking around anxiously. "Siper thinks the bodies were taken away before we got here."
"Taken by whom?"
"You got me, Captain. I just hope that Liv wasn't--" Elliot's throat tightened at the very thought that she might be dead. He quickly glanced down at the ground and took a deep breath, his eyes stinging with tears.
"Elliot, you listen to me," Cragen said, as he came in close. "You should know, more than anybody, that our girl knows how to take care of herself. I'm not counting Olivia out anytime soon. And neither should you."
"Yeah," Elliot said, shaking his head. "You're right, Cap."
"Ok, now, what did you see at the morgue?"
"I heard the gun battle, and when it was over, I went up the street and saw Olivia being shoved into the car by a blond-haired guy."
"Bond?" Cragen said with a frown.
"Who?" Elliot asked.
"James Bond, her partner for the day from Scotland Yard," Cragen replied. "He was sent over here to look up Luke Marcus. Apparently Marcus is wanted in England, as well. Bond is blond-haired, so that might have been who you saw with Liv."
"So she wasn't kidnapped," Elliot said.
"She was still involved in two major gun battles less than three blocks away from each other," Cragen told him. "And I'd like to find out why. I've got Munch and Fin coming down, they'll help us canvass the neighborhood. Maybe we can find out if anybody around here saw anything."
"I'd like to get started now, if you don't mind, Cap," Elliot said.
Cragen nodded. "Be my guest. You want to take that side of the street? I'll take the other side."
'James Bond,' Elliot thought, as he walked over to begin his canvass with a group of onlookers by the sidewalk. He was filled with a seething rage. 'What the hell did he get my partner into? He'd better have a good answer for me, or else I'll bitch-slap it out of Mr. Bond.'
B&B
"Feisty little bitch, ain't she?"
"Un-cuff me, and you'll find out," Olivia angrily said.
"Oooooo!" her abductors all said in unison, in mock-fear.
She was brought into a squat gray cell with plain metal walls on three sides. The fourth wall was a floor to ceiling mirror--Olivia had no doubt that somebody sat on the other side of that mirror, watching her. The trio of men who were with her in the car had dragged Olivia in here, removed the sack from her head, and then promptly proceeded to frisk her further while she was still handcuffed and gagged. Her shoes and socks had even been removed and examined. Olivia was afraid they were going to strip her completely, but they stopped at removing her hoodie; afterwards she had been re-cuffed again and made to sit on an uncomfortable wooden chair.
While she sat cuffed in the chair, the one they called Bruno even managed to cop a quick feel from her. Olivia had marked his face, and kept glaring at him.
"What are you staring at, bitch?" he snapped at her.
"A sniveling coward," Olivia growled.
"Oh, looks like love at first sight, Bruno," one of the other men laughingly said, as he answered his cell phone. "Yeah? Yeah, ok." After he switched off the phone, he gestured at Olivia and added, "Un-cuff her and let her get dressed. She checks out."
"What?" Bruno said, surprised. "You mean the bitch really is a cop?"
"A detective with the Special Victim's Unit, blah, blah, blah, the whole nine yards," the other man replied, as he un-cuffed Olivia. "Looks like we grabbed one of the good guys after all. Or, in her case, a good girl."
"Who the hell are you guys?" Olivia asked, as she stood up and rubbed her freed wrists.
Before anybody could answer, the door slid open, and Bond entered, looking anxious. Once he saw her, he made a beeline for Olivia. "Are you all right?"
She noticed that he was in his shirtsleeves, with his tie hanging loosely around his open collar and his suit jacket slung over his arm. "Yeah, you?"
"Nothing a trip in the Caribbean could cure," Bond replied with a shrug.
"I have a feeling--after all this is over--that we could all use a trip like that," a soft-spoken male voice said.
Olivia and Bond turned to see a bearded black man standing in the doorway. He wore a suit, and--to Olivia's eyes--looked more like an accountant than the well-dressed thugs who had bullied her.
She was stunned to see Bond smile at him. "Hello, Felix."
"You know him?" she asked.
Bond nodded. "You could say that he's my brother from Langley."
'Langley? Why's that familiar?' Olivia wondered. Then she recalled one of Munch's rants about the CIA, and realized that Langley, Virginia was the home of the Central Intelligence Agency. "You guys are CIA?!"
"So it would seem," Felix replied with a slight nod. "My apologies for the rough treatment, 007--and to you, Detective Benson. But it appears that our investigations have crossed paths." He glanced at Olivia. "Since she's not a member of the family, perhaps we should speak further in private, James?"
"Olivia's a part of my investigation," Bond said. "She can hear whatever's pertinent to what we're doing."
"Very well, then we'll give the good detective a few minutes to gather her things," Felix said. He glanced at Olivia and added, "We'll be in the next room."
Olivia nodded, as she slipped her hoodie back on. She balled up her socks and slipped them into one of the pockets of her hoodie. Before she put her shoes on, she paused and stared at Bruno, who stood leering at her.
"Still mad at me, honey?" he said with a broad grin.
Olivia's mouth spread into an equally broad smile as she said, "Why don't you come on over and find out?"
B&B
"We've recently got word of five stolen nuclear warheads making for the Polish boarder," Felix said, once they were alone in the next room.
"Whose warheads?" Bond asked.
"Russian. We're not sure how they were acquired, but the point was they were on their way out of Russia, headed for points unknown, when we…uh…intercepted them."
Bond nodded as he recalled the explosion on the desolate highway a few weeks ago. "The news reports said it was a gas pipeline that exploded. Was that you?"
"Yes--well, actually, it was courtesy of the United States Air Force," Felix said. "Smart bombs launched from a squadron of Stealth fighters. We told them where and when."
"Did you get them?"
Felix looked annoyed. "No. Not all of them. The sons of bitches who were moving the nukes were smart enough to split them up. When our people on the ground checked, there were only the remnants of three warheads in the convoy."
"Shit," Bond muttered. "You think the other two are headed here?"
"Now, why would you think that, James?" Felix asked warily.
"Because Lucien Marko is in New York," Bond said. "He's been hired by somebody, we don't know who yet, to build a bomb."
"No doubt those were Lucien's playmates you and Detective Benson ran into on the streets of our fair city," Felix muttered thoughtfully. "To answer your question, we lost track of the other two nukes."
"I have a feeling we're working the same case from opposite ends," Bond said.
"I was rather hoping we weren't," Felix said, looking visably worried. "The thought of Marko playing with nukes in New York City isn't a happy one. You've been tracking him for a long time?"
"For the last two weeks. I almost caught up to him in Cannes, but he gave me the slip. But he's here, in New York. I know it."
Felix nodded. "Very well. I'll alert the local and federal authorites to step up their anti-terrorism measures. The radiation-sniffers will be out in full force in the city starting right now. You want to work with us from here on end?"
"Certainly, but I work best on my own," Bond said. "I want to keep on hunting Marko. If I find Marko, I'll find the nukes."
"Couldn't think of a better man for the job," Felix said. "What about this Benson?"
"She's very good," Bond said. "I'd like for her to keep working with me."
"You think she's tough enough for this type of job?"
Their attention was suddenly diverted to the bizarre scene beyond the two way mirror, where Olivia stood very close to one of the CIA men, looking as if she were sweet-talking with him. However, a split second later, Olivia suddenly rammed her knee straight into the man's crotch. The man sunk to the floor in obvious pain.
"Hey, stop that!" the other men shouted--as Olivia proceded to straddle the stricken man, grab his head and pound it repeatedly against the hard floor.
"Does that answer your question?" Bond curtly replied, as he quickly left the room.
"I stand corrected," Felix muttered, as he followed Bond. "She's a woman after your own heart, James. I hope you're both very happy together!"
When Bond entered the room, he shoved aside the two CIA men and grabbed Olivia in a bear hug. "Easy, easy! It's me, it's James," he whispered into her ear, as Olivia--still in the heat of battle--instinctively began to fight him. When she began to relax in his arms, he asked, "What happened?"
"This rat bastard felt me up," she replied, breathing heavy. "When I was cuffed and helpless, he groped me!"
"Bruno, I am extremely disappointed in you," Felix said with disgust.
"She a ducking liar!" Bruno said, his voice sounding funny as he tried to speak with a broken nose. He stood up and turned towards Olivia in a threatening manner. "She crazy! She boke by doze! I ought to bake her--"
Releasing Olivia, Bond abruptly walked over to Bruno and slugged him hard across the face, knocking Bruno back down to the floor, where he lay out cold. "You ought to have the sense to know when to stay down," Bond said icily.
"Detective Benson, you have my sincere apologies," Felix told her. He turned to one of the other CIA men and said, "When Bruno awakens, tell him he's been demoted to working as a sweeper in the garage from now on."
Olivia picked up her shoes, then turned to Bond and said, "Hey, thanks."
"Just keeping an eye on my partner," he said.
"Oh, this is a match made in heaven," Felix commented. "I do hope you'll let me know when the wedding takes place, James. Will your gifts be registered at Smith & Wesson?"
Olivia stared at him, then at Bond. "The hell's he talking about?"
"Spy humor," Bond muttered, as they all walked out of the room.
The unconscious Bruno was left exactly where he fell.
B&B
'She's alive!' Elliot thought jubilantly, as he entered the SVU bullpen. Several of the witnesses whom he canvassed at the scene of the gunfight had seen Olivia and Bond get arrested by several men in dark sedans. He still didn't know where she was, but Olivia was alive and well. 'And knowing Liv, she's also probably pretty pissed right about now, too!'
Simon stood up from where he sat by Olivia's empty desk and came over to Elliot. Simon had called Olivia's cell phone--which Elliot had in his possession, so he answered the call. Olivia's brother became worried about her when she never called back to make arrangements with him for lunch.
"You find anything out?" Simon urgently asked.
"Yeah, Olivia's all right, but she's been arrested," Elliot told him.
"Arrested by who?"
"That's what we've been trying to find out," Elliot replied.
Cragen emerged from his office. "Well, she hasn't been grabbed by the NYPD. I've just called some of my friends in high places within the department."
"She's been arrested by Feds," Elliot said grimly. "They're the only ones left."
"Olivia's told me about the time you and her have been arrested by U.S. Marshals," Simon recalled. "Could they be the ones who arrested her this time?"
"I don't think so," Munch called as he and Fin entered the squad room.
"What have you got?" Cragen asked him.
"A couple of the witnesses we canvassed saw Olivia being taken into a car in handcuffs," Fin said.
"Yeah, so?" Elliot replied. "That's the same thing all of my witnesses said, as well."
"Yeah, but our witnesses said that, once she was in the car, Olivia was then gagged with duct tape and then had a hood placed over her head," Munch grimly reported.
'Oh Christ,' Elliot thought, as he felt his stomach tighten into a cold little knot.
"Now that's not a standard arrest procedure, is it?!" Simon said, looking very worried.
"Easy," Elliot told him. "Just take it--"
"Take it easy?!" Simon asked, looking incredulous. "Elliot, my sister has just been abducted by God knows who!"
"This doesn't track," Cragen said. "Everybody I spoke to said the people who took Olivia and Bond into custody were cops. They even flashed badges!"
"It's pretty easy to get fake badges these days," Fin said.
"Yeah, or--" Munch started to say, then stopped.
"Or…what?" Elliot asked.
"Or they really were feds," Munch said. "But they're the really scary kind: the CIA."
"Oh, you and the fucking CIA!" Elliot shouted, annoyed. "I swear, Munch--"
"Now who's losing his cool?" Simon muttered.
"All right, all right," Elliot said, as he regained control. "Look, I know who's behind this, or at least who we should be looking at. This Bond guy. I mean, is it any coincidence that the moment he pops into Olivia's life, all hell breaks loose?"
"I've already double-checked Bond's credentials," Cragen told him. "He checks out."
Elliot shook his head. "I still don't like him, Cap."
"You haven't even met him yet," Cragen said.
"Call it a hunch, but I've got the feeling that we'll find out what's going on if we dig deeper into this Bond guy's background," Elliot said.
"Can't see anything wrong with that tactic," Fin commented.
"Who's Bond?" Simon wanted to know.
"Some dork from Scotland Yard who partnered with Olivia today," Elliot replied. "Name's James Bond."
After a few thoughtful moments, Cragen nodded. "All right, since we don't have much else by way of leads, why don't we look into Mr. Bond's background? I'll also give Casey a call and see what she can do about getting any information from our friends the feds."
After they all split up, Elliot started to head back to his desk, until he saw Simon standing helplessly by himself.
He strode up to Simon and said, "Don't worry, none of us will rest until we find her."
"If it weren't for Olivia, I wouldn't even be standing here today," he said. "My life has improved so much since she's found me, Elliot. I don't want to lose her. I don't know what I'd do without her, y'know?"
Elliot nodded, as he dismally thought of a life without Olivia. "Yeah, Simon. I know exactly what you mean. I'd be lost without her, too."
B&B
Bond sat back on the table and watched Olivia carefully. They were in an empty lounge area at the CIA's headquarters in New York. Bond sat on the coffee table, facing Olivia. She sat cross-legged on the sofa, cradling a cup of tea in her hands as she stared despondently at her shoes, which sat obediently on the floor before her.
"You all right?" Bond asked.
"No," she said softly. "I mean, sweet Jesus, James!"
"Yeah," he said with a grim nod. "I know."
"I've lived through 9/11," she said somberly. "I've seen that horror with my own eyes. And, on that day--and for days afterward--I couldn't imagine anything more terrible happening…until now. Oh, my God!"
Bond leaned forward and firmly said, "They haven't won, yet. There's a lot of very good people who are working very hard to stop them, Olivia."
"I guess you would be included in that group," Olivia said with a slight smile. "Mr. 007."
"And you, as well," Bond told her. When she gave him a shocked look, he added, "I'd like for you to keep working with me on this. Nobody knows this city like you, Olivia. But if you'd rather not, I'd understand perfectly."
"I'm scared to death at the mere thought of dealing with this situation," she admitted. "But how can I just go back to my normal life now, knowing what I know? I wouldn't be able to sleep, anyway. If you need me, James; if there's really anything at all that I can do to help, then you've got it."
Bond smiled. "Thank you, Olivia."
Olivia glanced down for a moment, and then she said, "Hey, remember what I said before, about how only my friends call me Liv?"
"Yeah."
She nodded. "Well, you can call me Liv, if you want."
"Liv it is, then."
"If I help you, do I get one of those fancy double O titles?" she playfully asked. "Maybe I can be 008?"
"Sorry, my dear," a female voice called out. "Only I can assign such a title."
Bond was startled as he quickly stood up and saw M standing in the doorway of the lounge. "Ma'am, what are you doing here?" he blurted out.
M merely glared at him, as if deeply insulted. "Nice to see you, as well, 007."
"I'm sorry, Ma'am, I didn't mean--"
"Of course not." M stared expectantly at Olivia, who placed her tea on the table and stood next to Bond. "Well, 007? Aren't you going to introduce us?"
"This is Olivia Benson, she's a detective with the NYPD's Special Victim's Unit," Bond said. "Liv, this is M, my boss. She heads MI6."
"Should I curtsy, or something?" Olivia whispered out of the side of her mouth to Bond.
"Oh no, my dear," M said with a laugh. "You only curtsy when you meet royalty, and I'm about as far from royalty as you can get--although I have been called a royal bitch on occasion. But screw'em if they can't take a joke, I always say."
"Uh…ah, yes, ma'am," Olivia said, looking surprised.
M glanced at Bond and said, "Report."
Bond filled her in on the whole affair up to now, including his plans to continue hunting Marko on his own. M nodded and said, "Good idea. If you find Marko, you'll find the bomb. I'll remain here and coordinate things with our CIA bretheren."
"We should get going," Bond said. "I'll ask Felix to have somebody here give us a lift back to the precinct."
"No need," M told him, as she handed Bond a set of car keys. "I've brought you a little gift from Q Branch. It's in the parking garage."
"Why M," Bond said with a smile, "you shouldn't have."
"You're right, I shouldn't have," she muttered. "Especially after you wrecked the last one in Montenegro! Do try to bring this car back in one piece, 007. Better yet, perhaps you should let Detective Benson drive it."
"I'll keep that little piece of advice in mind, Ma'am," Bond wearily replied as he and Olivia left the lounge area. "I'll keep in touch."
"Please do," she called. "The next thing I want to hear from you is that you've got Marko's head on a platter."
"That's your boss?!" Olivia muttered, once the elevator doors slid shut. "And I thought Cragen was scary! He's a pussycat compared to her!"
Bond grinned as the elevator doors opened on the garage level. There was a sea of bland cars arrayed before them. They were all the standard federal-issued sedans, with the only difference between them being their color: either black or white.
"Which one is--" Olivia started to say. And then she stopped suddenly when she saw it. "Oh, there it is."
The late model Aston Martin was low and sleek, and painted a gunmetal gray in color. Parked as it was among the other innocuous cars, it looked like a predator amidst a crowd of sheep.
"Yes, it stands out in a crowd, doesn't it?" Bond said, as he opened the passenger door for her.
"Let's just say I'm glad this monster's on our side," Olivia said, just before Bond shut the door for her.
"Nice wheels," Olivia said, impressed when Bond got in the driver's side. She reached for a control panel on the dashboard. "Is that the radio?"
"Uh, I'd appreciate it if you'd didn't touch anything, Liv," Bond said, gently grabbing her hand before she could accidently turn on the machine guns in the front bumper. "There's some pretty delicate equipment packed in here."
"Has MI6 got this thing tricked out?" Olivia asked. When Bond nodded, she replied, "How?"
"It's completely bulletproof, for one thing," Bond answered, as he started up the engine and pulled the car out of the parking slot.
"It rides like a dream," Olivia commented. "Wish the NYPD could afford rides like this for us."
Bond wondered if he should further explain how the Aston Martin was "tricked out," such as the machine guns in the forward and rear bumper, the battering rams, the hubcap tire shredders, and so on. But then he thought against it. Many of these items were top secret, and Olivia will see them in action if the situation called for them.
'I doubt we'll even need any of these gadgets anyway,' Bond thought. Yet as he drove down the streets of New York City, a small voice from the darkest corner of his mind said, 'Don't be so sure….'
B&B
Lena was pissed.
The young woman was stretched out on top of a crate in the warehouse, listening to Wyatt blather on about how they would deal with this new threat to Operation Diamondhead.
"Remember people," Wyatt said, his loud, obnoxious voice echoing off the walls of the nearly empty warehouse. "James Bond is just a regular guy. And that means he can be killed just like anybody else."
'If that were truly the case, then why did Bond just wipe out one of our best hit teams?' Lena wondered, rolling her eyes with disgust. 'Since Bond showed up, our people have been dropping like flies, and all this dipshit can do is give us a stupid little pep talk?'
Standing at barely 5 feet 2 inches, Lena was a diminutive woman in size, with spiky black hair and a surly attitude towards life. German by birth, Lena was one of the best hit women working for Spectre because of her natural ability to change her looks and blend into a crowd. Yet little did Spectre know that Lena enjoyed being an assassin so much that she would have gladly paid them for the honor of ridding the world of people who were nothing more in her eyes than excess baggage.
Yet the joy she felt at doing her job had been tempered lately, thanks to working for this blundering moron Wyatt, whom Jergens had placed in charge of security of Operation Diamondhead. Wyatt didn't know it, but he was seriously out-classed by Bond, and because he was oblivious to this fact was costing them dearly.
'With Wyatt the jerk-off in charge of security, is it any wonder Marko's in hiding, in fear for his life?' Lena wondered with disgust.
They were all abruptly startled by the sound of a door opening at the far end of the warehouse. Wyatt turned to see a man approach them. He wore a suit and a hat. Lena, like the others, got ready to draw her weapons, which included a Barreta gun tucked under her armpit and a stiletto knife hidden in her boot.
"Who the hell are you?" Wyatt demanded to the intruder.
The man removed his hat, revealing a face with one milky white eye. There was a scar running down his face from above and below that dead eye. He stared right at Wyatt and said, "My name is Mr. Ott. Who is in command here?"
'Mr. Ott?!' Lena thought, stunned. She'd heard that name--every hit man and hit woman worth their salt did--but very few people ever actually met the legendary hit man. Very few people met Mr. Ott and lived to tell the tale.
"I am," Wyatt said, as he stepped forward. "I am in charge here."
Mr. Ott's right hand flashed out at Wyatt in a move that was as quick as lightning. He was so fast, that Lena barely saw him strike Wyatt. Yet Wyatt's eyes suddenly grew wide as he began to choke and gurgle. When a line of blood appeared at his collar, Lena realized that Mr. Ott had just slit his throat.
As the dying Wyatt fell to the floor, Mr. Ott coldly stepped over his convulsing body and stood facing the team. "Once again, I ask the question," he said, in a soft voice. "Who is in command here?"
"You are," Lena blurted out.
Mr. Ott glanced at her and smiled ever so slightly. "Better. Much better. Come, everyone gather around the table. The nukes will be here within hours, and we have much work to do."
For the first time in days, Lena grinned broadly. 'The tide has turned,' she happily thought, 'and James Bond had better watch his back!'
To Be Continued...