Disclaimers: I do not own James Bond but I do own Michael Stone.
Summary: Two powerful personalities collide when MI6 agent James Bond and CIA agent Michael Stone meet! The possibilities are endless when it comes to the two of the best intelligence officers to ever grace the planet!
A/N: This is one of my longer stories in the series that involve James Bond and Michael Stone. This story is about how the two met and how they became friends. I hope you all enjoy.
It was simple enough. The Sorcerer made it out to be so. Michael Stone wanted to believe him. He really wanted to. But as always, things aren't so easy; things don't really go to plan.
All he had to do was slip in BlueShine's headquarters take out a few guards, and copy some files.
Simple my ass, he thought. Simple, simple! Nothing's simple!
What the Sorcerer failed to mention was that somebody or someone, more importantly another agency, might want to copy the files too. Or even worse, take them!
In the end, he found just that; someone was already inside. Someone else had started the party.
Stone sighed, "This is why I don't do computers."
The files that the BlueShine company had was evidence; evidence that could shut down another corporation and the danger that corporation held. But the plus was that his country would be called the major instigator of that wanted fallout as in him going to the said other corporation, rise high in it, and use the evidence to blackmail the leader to confess.
But from what he found, it would seem unlikely.
He had just entered the room by the normal transportation. He had the usual weapons on his person: gadgets given by the Dean, and some extras that he brought on his own accord. He had been ready to do the job but his eyes had caught an unwelcome surprise.
It was the guards. The guards, whom he was supposed to take out, were already taken out.
He cursed under his breath, and checked one of them. There was still a pulse. It was beating fairly well.
He then noticed something. He looked a little more closely at the guard's neck.
Someone had shot the guards with tranquilizers.
This someone was a professional.
"If another damn agency got this before I did, there will be some hell to pay," he muttered, quite irritated.
He took out one of his smaller guns and placed a silencer on it. He started to check the rooms for any sign of the mysterious attacker. He would go in a room and use his eyes to scan the area as thoroughly and quickly as he can.
He found no one, but an idea came into his head. He smiled to himself. He realized that he was in the second to the last room. The mysterious person was in the last room. The last was the room that held the files.
He knew enough about the potential motives of other and fellow agencies. He knew enough about their profiles, MO's, auras, and more. Okay, he didn't know all the signatures, but when he added the other things he knew. He knew that he knew what to do.
He would wait.
The guilty comes to those who wait.
And that was what he will do.
…………………………………………………………..
It took a few minutes until he finally found his song. In terms that represented actuality, he heard the sign.
It was footsteps. His keen ear knew that this mysterious person was walking with stealth, security, and deadliness.
The footsteps were getting closer and closer. He held his breath.
The footsteps stopped. He grew excited but he stayed calm. He lived for it; the danger, the anticipation, and the fight. Come on! The excitement rushed through his body.
Then the mysterious person appeared.
His eyes were already accustomed to the dark. He could clearly see what the mysterious agent looked like.
The agent was now in front of him. It was noticeable that the agent was male. He had dark brown hair, deep and bright blue eyes, and a clear white face.
Hello, Michael cheekily thought, Nice of you to join me.
The brown haired agent looked around. He looked as if he sensed something. His blue eyes searched through the darkness; keenly aware that anything could come up against him.
Michael had hid himself well, but he knew that the agent sensed him. He knew that this one was different from the rest. He knew that this one belonged to an ally. He didn't know how he knew it to be so, but he knew.
And to his surprise the agent turned away. Maybe not as good as I thought he would be, he thought.
The agent turned away, satisfied that no one was in the room, and left.
Michael waited until he could no longer hear the footsteps. He waited until he could no longer sense the once mysterious figure's presence. He waited because it was the smart thing to do.
Once he felt it was safe, he dropped from where he hid; lightly landing on his feet, and took out his knife. He was intrigued. The agent didn't look like anyone he knew personally. And the man didn't seem to have a need for weapons as much as he did for he saw that the man wore black dress jeans, and an equally black turtleneck shirt.
He looked at his knife. He tilted his head and dropped it.
It was good and bad to make decisions on a whim. It was one of the many things that are called a double-edged sword. He chose to think that what he decided would be called good; good for the country good.
He didn't really want to go into the final room to copy the files. He knew that would be useless. He would take the easier route. He would find the other agent. He would find out who the agent worked for and why he would want to take the files besides the same reasons he himself did.
Yes, he would find the agent and take the disk or whatever was used to copy the files for himself. Talk about doing things on the whim, he thought.
………………………………………………………
Michael didn't like to report. He wasn't the reporting kind of guy. He preferred to have the job finished and take a good break with a woman. But at the current moment, it wouldn't be the case. Someone from another agency has the files from BlueShine and he was going to take it back.
Does America need it? He knew very well that his country didn't need it that badly. But he was sent to get it and he would get it. So, he decided not to report. Sure, Margie and Mother would be quite upset but since when was he ever afraid of their wrath?
Okay, Margie's wrath is like any woman's wrath: horrible and evil. Mother's is okay: screaming and insulting.
He could handle the latter, but the former? He shuddered at the thought.
No, he would have to risk the bout of anger from Margie.
He checked the time. It was two-thirty in the morning. He yawned. It was late. He needed to sleep.
Not until I find that bastard, he thought with a shake of his head.
Where would he find the bastard? He smiled slightly to himself. Of course, why didn't he think of it immediately before? If that agent was as smart as he was in the first place, then he would go exactly where Stone himself would go. To that damn other corporation: FireHorse, he realized. He shook his head. He didn't know who made up the names of these companies but they sure didn't make any sense – at least any sense to him.
Shaking away that random thought, he made a quick u-turn. He was going to a new location. He was going to FireHorse's headquarters which happened to be a club. But would it be worth it? Even though his country wanted to take all the credit, it didn't mean that his country would be too upset over it.
So, he decided that he would go to that club, but not for finding the man who copied the files. He would to do what he wanted to do. He was bored, the assignment that Mother and the Dean gave him was crap, and so, he would just take down both companies.
Yeah, I like that idea.
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Michael drove into the parking lot. He looked around and found that there were about two hundred people in the club.
"Seems people love to party…" he muttered as he looked at the time which said: 3:00 a.m.
He parked in the disabled section and hid his guns in the glove compartment and behind his seat. He knew that there would be bouncers to check if there were any weapons on his person. And their reason would simply be for safety even though Michael knew that was pure crap. He knew that they only searched for guns so, that if someone pisses them up or their boss that they could kill that someone without being afraid of them fighting back.
Stone put on a tie and fixed his hair. He needed to look presentable and good looking. It wouldn't be surprising that the bouncers would let him in if he presented himself as a powerful and suave man.
He got out of the car, pocketed his keys, and walked straight to the front of the line.
"ID," the bouncer immediately said after giving him once over.
"No problem." Stone replied and did as he was told.
Finding nothing wrong with it, the bouncer nodded, and said, "Have fun, Mr. Marlowe."
"Thank you." Michael replied as he took back his ID and entered the club.
The music was loud and great. The sound; the beat was heard and felt by all. There was an aura inside the club. It was an aura of sexuality and sensuality. Everything was intimate.
Michael liked that, but he wasn't in the club to party. He was there to take down two corporations: FireHorse and BlueShine.
He checked his surroundings; making sure to remember everything that he sees. He checked his watch and breathed.
"Showtime…" he muttered.
Stone looked up at the second floor towards a room that was privy to those who paid well, and who protected well. The VIP room was the room he wanted to get into. He just wondered how.
As he climbed the stairs up to the second floor, he let the music go through him. He let the beat soothe him. He was ready.
He checked the VIP room and saw that it was guarded by two bulky men. Michael didn't think they were very scary looking. It was the weapons they hide that made him fear a bit.
A waiter walked by him. He followed the waiter. He just got an idea.
I know the way in.
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TBC
End-note: Reviews appreciated. I hope you all enjoyed this. I certainly enjoyed writing this.