Conflict of Legends

A/N: This is a James Bond/Jason Bourne crossover fic, something I've always wanted to write. It features the Matt Damon version of Bourne and the Daniel Craig version of Bond. I've taken a few minor liberties here and there with regards to chronology and continuity.

Jason Bourne is the property of Universal Studios and James Bond is the property of Robert Ludlum.

Prologue: The Deal

Marian Craig, better known within Intelligence circles by the initial 'M' stepped out of her armour-plated, bullet-proof and bomb-proof limousine onto the cold snow-filled streets of Paris. She slowly cautiously made her way to the entrance of the Red Dragon restaurant, an expensive Chinese restaurant situated right in the middle of the City of Light. Though she could sense the comforting presence of her two bodyguards who were shadowing her several feet behind, she still perceived an element of insecurity in herself. Which wasn't surprising really. After all, not more than four months ago, her own bodyguard of eight years had tried to kill her. She was on the hit-list of every terrorist organization in the world which knew of her existence (and indeed, there were quite a few), including the unknown faceless men and women behind the global conspiracy known as Quantum. No, M could rarely, if ever, feel truly safe. And yet this journey, troublesome though it was, was also necessary.

A meeting with the Director of the CIA was not something she particularly looked forward to. After all, Ezra Krammer had refused her a meeting when the Agency had aligned itself with the 'interests' of Dominic Greene in Bolivia, and had issued a kill order against her agent, James Bond. Of course, the corrupt activities of Gregg Beam, former CIA station chief in South America had been exposed, and Bond had survived, even taking down an entire CIA black ops unit (a fact M secretly was proud of), but Krammer had still remained largely aloof from the whole incident, attempting to downplay the involvement of the Agency, and more importantly, himself. And yet M had her private moments of revenge against the man when she considered the amount of embarrassment Krammer had had to face in recent months; not just from the Bolivia incident, but also from the Blackbriar scandal, which was at present raging in Washington. The exposure of the CIA's top-secret officially unsanctioned assassination program certainly dealt a severe blow to the global image of the CIA's top brass. Though M considered the CIA to be an ally of MI6, possibly its closest, and had tremendous respect for its efficiency as an organization, she more often than not disagreed with the ideology and methods of its leaders. And the revelation that the CIA was involved in subversive activities on British soil which had resulted in the death of a British citizen certainly did give her some leverage over its top brass. Leverage she would try to make the most of. Which was why she had agreed to fly down to Paris, for a meeting with the CIA Director in a neutral location; to hear him out, and then make her own demands. The battlefield was a diplomatic one, she thought wryly, smiling to herself, but even the world of diplomacy could be a harsh place, as she'd learnt during the Cold War.

* * *

Ezra Krammer was seated at a table on the south-west corner of the restaurant, awaiting his meeting with Marian Craig, the enigmatic 'M', chief of MI6. He had met her once only briefly years ago, at an Embassy dinner in London, though he had since conversed with her on the phone many times. It occurred to him now, as he sat here waiting for her, that he was among the few individuals in the world who was even aware of her true identity. Once upon a time, he would have regarded it as an indicator to the extent of his power and influence; but not now. Recent events had, on the contrary, made him feel almost powerful and helpless. Powerless against the US Congressional Oversight Committees, powerless against the scrutinizing glare of the media, powerless to an extent, even against his counterparts in America's allies, including M.

But there was a way it could be fixed. And Ezra Krammer, ever the pragmatist, knew exactly how it could be done. But for that he needed M's help. He needed the resources of MI6. Not because he lacked any of his own, but because his own resources could not be used in this case. It would attract too much attention, and too much attention was a negative factor for him these days.

But he would need to tread cautiously with Marian Craig. After all, the Agency's relations with the British had strained in recent months. As if the assassination of a British journalist in the middle of the Waterloo station by a CIA sniper wasn't enough, there was the whole debacle in Bolivia that really placed the last shovel of dirt on the grave. M would naturally be predisposed towards animosity against him; it was up to him to convert that animosity into professional regard and courtesy. And for that he would have to make a deal…if it worked, all would be well…if it didn't, there were always other ways he didn't want to even think about.

And then he noticed her enter the restaurant and mention his name to the headwaiter, the pseudonym he had informed her off. Within seconds, a waiter was escorting her to his table, and he stood up and greeted her.

Let the performance begin, he thought, as he gave her a wry smile.

* * *

"Ah! Good evening, Ms. Craig", Ezra Krammer greeted her; with a mild tone of enthusiasm she was convinced he did not feel. She noted the use of her real name, as opposed to 'M'; she sensed that Krammer was trying to subtly send her a message; that they were equals and the usual subterfuges she employed against her subordinates were of no use here. She wasn't in the least intimidated by this however, and instead replied in a polite but firm tone, "Good evening, Mr. Krammer".

"Please, have a seat", Krammer said gesturing towards her chair. She sat down. They did not shake hands.

"Well, Ms. Craig, before I begin, perhaps its best if we order some refreshments first", he said. M agreed, and before long they had ordered not only their refreshments, but their appetizers as well.

"Now, if you would care to inform me of the reason for this rather abrupt…rendevouz", M said.

"Certainly, I was about to. Ms. Craig, I'm going to be frank. You are no doubt aware, that the Agency is currently facing several…difficulties, on the domestic front. Events which was seriously hampered our ability to function uninhibited", Krammer began.

"If you are referring to the exposure of your unsanctioned assassination program, then I am quite aware of your…difficulties, and I have no hesitation in stating that I feel they are entirely justified", M said severely.

"If you want to put it that way, Ms. Craig, I can't honestly blame you. After all, the activities of this…program…did affect your country", Krammer replied cautiously.

"I completely admit that in recent years, several of our Agency's highest ranking executives have seen fit to embark on courses of action which have been questionable at best, if not downright unethical, and I have personally made several attempts these past few months to ensure that such activities are scrutinized, and where possible, curtailed immediately. It is precisely in relation to this that I have a request to make…and an offer", Krammer said.

M was silent for a few moments. "Go on", she then said.

"I have discovered evidence of a number of subversive activities some of our Agency's more…misguided…representatives have carried out on British soil. The existence of the records of these activities are unknown, save to myself, a few others, and as of a moment ago, you. They are the only…and I must stress on this word…only records of these activities, which have often been suspected by MI5 and your division, but never conclusively proven. And I alone have complete access to these records", Krammer said, and then paused, waiting for M's reaction.

M now had an inkling of the direction in which this conversation was heading. "So quite simply…you are offering me exclusive information about illegal activities carried out by the CIA on British soil, for a price…"

"Oh, not a price, Ms. Craig", Krammer said with a smile. "Just a favor".

"Indeed", replied M, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "And what would this favor be?"

Krammer took a deep breath and replied, "Are you familiar with the name, Jason Bourne?"

Whatever M had been expecting, it certainly wasn't this. "Jason Bourne? Yes, of course. There was an article on him in The Guardian earlier this year? Isn't he one of your loose cannons?"

The smile vanished from Krammer's face. "Now, Ms. Craig. I certainly wouldn't speak about 'loose cannons' if I were you. Need I remind you that it was your man who stormed into an African embassy and killed an unarmed man in front of numerous witnesses".

"As opposed to what, gunning down a journalist in the middle of a crowded train station?" M replied sharply.

"Look, that was a mistake, and the people responsible are in the dock. Which is more than what I can say for your man, Bond, who later went on to cause more trouble in Bolivia. But that's the past. What I'm more interested in is the future", Krammer replied calmly.

"And the future is…?" began M.

"I want you to find Jason Bourne. And kill him".

There was a minutes silence at the table. Neither spoke a word. Both their expressionless faces conveyed no emotion.

Finally, it was M who broke the silence. "And why would you need my help for that? Don't you have enough accomplished hitmen of your own to do your dirty work for you?" she asked sarcastically.

Krammer ignored the sarcasm. "As you are no doubt aware, my… 'hitmen', as you call them, are currently out of sanction, in custody of various psychiatric centers across the globe where they are undergoing rehabilitation so intense, that when our doctors are finished with them, they will never want to hold a gun again, much less use one. And our operatives have tried and failed to terminate Bourne for years. You see, he was the best we had. Until he snapped and went rogue. Now he's a serious liability, not only to the Agency, but to the entire world. There's no telling what he'll do, and where he'll do it. He's a freaking animal, and the world is his jungle. He thinks he can do anything he likes and no one can stop him. Which is why we need to take him out".

M paused for a few moments. "And if I agree to this…proposal of yours…"

"Then lets just say, those files will no longer be figments of your imagination", Krammer completed the sentence.

M sat in silence for a few more minutes before she replied sharply, "You realize of course, that what you are asking me to do is quite illegal".

"Oh, come now, Ms. Craig. Its not as though we at Langley are the only killers in this business. MI6 has a fair share of blood on his hands as well. We call our men 'wet-work specialists', you call them 'Double O's'. Its all the same really. We do it for Uncle Sam, you do it for Queen and country. So think about it, and let me know. You have the number don't you?", Krammer finished.

Just then, their drinks arrived, along with their appetizers, and the two Intelligence chiefs ate in silence. Finally M spoke, "I'll let you know my answer in two days time. We can carry out our further negotiations on this matter then".

"As you wish, Ms. Craig", Krammer said, with a new note of triumph entering his voice. "As you wish".