Chapter 3
MI6 HQ-London
James pinched the bridge of his nose and grunted with frustration. All about him base command was alive with the muffled cries of busy workers calling to each other over the tops of their cubicles. The incessant tapping of thousands of fingers stabbing feverishly at keyboards echoed around the room and the non stop ring of the telephones which bore into his tired skull like a drill.
Ordinarily these trivial annoyances wouldn't have penetrated his calm façade but this morning it was starting to tell on his face. He was unusually pale, with bags under his eyes due to his lack of sleep.
After receiving Moneypenny's message he had a brief conversation with M before coming straight to base command. He hadn't even bothered to change and was still wearing his rather disheveled and dusty suit from the party.
After 3 hours intelligence was still infuriatingly slow. Possible sightings of Tremendo and his entourage (which to the best of their knowledge still included Miss Moneypenny) were dripping in slowly. They had some CCTV footage of the car leaving London and heading up the M1 but from that point on they were still unsure. This had caught them all completely off guard. If MI6 had expected anyone to blow up Tremendo party James would have been top of that list, but Tremendo's second in command? Nobody had anticipated that.
Information on Ong was slow to, at least new information was. Other intelligence services had also been monitoring her and had, quite sportingly, agreed to pass on their findings to the British government but it was more or less the same as their own findings; Abandoned at a convent at a young age, several years of run of the mill teenage delinquency, fell in with a street gang, absconded from convent and spent the next decade in and out of prison. Mostly in.
It didn't explain her connection to Tremendo nor her subsequent betrayal. There were a lot of unanswered questions here that everyone seemed ill prepared to respond to. Ill prepared was probably the best way to describe MI6's involvement in the whole debacle.
Not only had they lost their target but two of their agents. 'Agents,' James snorted mirthlessly. 'That's a laugh. Moneypenny wasn't trained for this. What the hell were they playing at sending her off on her own?'
James pursed his lips angrily and frowned at the room. He had just made up his mind to track down M and demand she tell him everything when a pretty young redhead trotted over pushing a trolley. Several cups and saucers were balanced precariously on top next to two piping hot teapots.
"Tea or coffee Mr. Bond?" She enquired with a sweet smile which barely registered with the distracted double O.
James merely shrugged. "Surprise me."
Looking more than a little put out the girl grabbed the nearest pot and haphazardly poured its contents into the most chipped cup she could find. Without a saucer, milk or sugar she shoved it into Bonds hands, sloshing it onto his suit in the process and bustled off muttering about 'rude tosseres thinking their better than her just because she's a tea lady.'
"Oh dear!" Someone tutted sympathetically from behind Bond. "Moneypenny wouldn't want that now would she?"
James spun around to find Q sitting by a computer nearby, arms folded across his stomach, staring at the screen. James wondered how long his old friend had been watching him.
"Wouldn't want what?" James asked as he wandered over. He propped himself against the edge of the desk as the elderly Q turned slowly to face him removing his spectacles as he moved.
"To see you so out of character."Q smiled wryly. "It's not like you to ignore such a pleasant young lady."
"There are more important matters at hand." James replied, gazing up at the large map which stretched the length of the far wall. Small tacks pinpointed possible areas Tremendo might flee to with different colours for airstrips, ports and train stations he might use. At the moment there were so many coloured dots it looked as though a child had spilled their smarties on the map. James could see that M was standing in front of it barking orders at anyone who dared go near her.
Beside him James heard Q give out a disbelieving whistle.
"I never thought I'd hear those words come out of your mouth 007!" He laughed.
James smiled back unconvincingly and Q was forced o try a different tact. It was not often that he had to comfort Bond and this time humor seemed unlikely to distract the poor man from his current funk.
Running his fingers through his short white hair the old man looked levelly at Bond. He looked as tired as James felt. The dark lines of his wrinkles seemed more apparent as the harsh light of the florescent bulbs swinging freely from the ceiling. He placed a comforting hand on the young agents' knee.
"We'll find them." He assured him. "Moneypenny's a smart girl she'll give us a sign."
"She shouldn't have to!" James snapped, unable to control himself. "We shouldn't have lost her in the first place. She shouldn't have even been there! She took a huge risk sending me that message, what if it's been intercepted? She might have blown her cover already and for what?"
"You should have more faith in her." Q scolded him "I've been studying that email which was more telling than you realise."
He twisted back to the screen, once again settling his glasses on his long, thin nose. James slid off of the desk and moved around the back of the old scientist so that he could see the computer screen over Q's shoulder.
"I wondered why you were up here." James said, frowning at the screen.
"Well it wasn't for moral support."
"I'd never have guessed." James smiled, feeling a little more himself now that they were making progress. "So aside from the fact that she's alive, what does Moneypenny's message tell us?"
"It tells us that her G.L.O.V.E.S are working." Beamed Q.
The G.L.O.V.E.S were undoubtedly one of Q's new toys but James couldn't help but tease the old boy.
"It's nice to know her hands are warm." He smirked.
Q shook his head and sighed. He'd learned not to rise to 007s bait, it only encouraged him.
"G.L.O.V.E.S," Q explained, "stands for Global Life-support, Observation, Verification, and E-mailing System."
"I see the need for the acronym." James nodded.
"Don't interrupt 007!" Q grunted as he tilted slightly in his chair to retrieve something in his jacket pocket. He pulled out a pair of seemingly ordinary black, leather gloves. James reached out to touch them but Q batted his hand before slipping the pair on. Bond watched keenly as Q pulled at the thumb on the left hand glove.
The palm of the glove was suddenly illuminated as though Q were holding it in front of a projector. James could see a computer screen, not dissimilar to one on the desk, on Q's outstretched palm.
"It's touch screen." He explained, jabbing at his palm with a long thin finger. "You use the index finger of your left hand as a cursor. It connects directly with our computers here so you have instant access to our database and also means you can send progress reports back to headquarters while out in the field! It monitors your life support and sends regular updates back here and gives you direct access to our surveillance satellites and means that we can track you. It's a wonderful bit of kit. Very discrete. It wouldn't be too hard for Moneypenny to have sent you that e-mail surreptitiously."
"If it has satellite tracking why is it taking so long to find them?" James demanded.
"Moneypenny has the prototype." Q admitted with an apologetic smile. "There are a few glitches in its programming."
James stared back incredulous so Q was forced to elaborate.
"We didn't have much of a choice." He explained. "Moneypenny's left handed you see, just like the G.L.O.V.E.S developer. We didn't have time to make a new one so…"
"So you sent her into the field without working equipment." James finished his sentence for him. Q bristled defensively.
"That's not fair 007!" He protested. "We did the best we could for her that time and circumstances would allow! When we heard that Tremendo was looking for a new PA we had to push Moneypenny in as quickly as possible or we'd have lost our chance. The G.L.O.V.E.S work, it's just taking time for it to connect with the satellite. It won't be much longer!"
And with that he shut the G.L.O.V.E.S down and turned his attentions back to the real computer screen on the desk in front of him. James drifted off into a thoughtful silence as he waited for Q to work his magic with the computer.
It was unlike Q, or M for that matter to send anyone into a mission with inadequate equipment or information. Even on reconnaissance and intelligence gathering missions such as this one agents spent weeks being debriefed and planning everything meticulously, down to the finest detail. If they truly had been so desperate as to send someone into his administration as soon as the opportunity arose then Tremendo must be a very dangerous man indeed.
There must be more to this business than was immediately obvious to James. Why had Ong sacrificed herself like that? She must have been in on Tremendos bomb plot so why did she not escape with him? Why did she head back to offices along the corridor? To distract James so that Tremendo could fake his death and escape? It didn't make sense!
The phrase 'death or glory' had been going around and around James' head all night. Ong had truly believed that she was dying for a cause worth fighting for yet all intelligence pointed to her and Tremendo being mercenaries.
A sudden cheer snapped him out of his reverie. Not from Q as he might have expected but from an excitable young worker in one of the cubicles in the middle of the room.
"Ma'am! Ma'am!" The boy called, waving M over.
Both she and 007 made their way swiftly across the floor from opposite sides. A James drew level he could see that the lads' computer was not filled with intelligence reports on Tremendo and his cohorts nor were their grainy CCTV images of their escape. The boy was logged onto the BBCs homepage.
"What the devil are you doing?" M demanded her eyes ablaze with fury.
The young man's excitement dampened a little and he began to stammer.
"The radio…back in Italy… charity" he babbled.
"WHAT!?" M demanded even more forcibly.
The young man to a deep breath and started at the beginning. "I was listening to the radio." He started, before quickly adding: 'While doing my work'
"The world services entertainment news," He continued. "They've been talking non stop about what happened last night."
"There not the only ones." M snapped. "I've had the PM on the phone every 15 minuets demanding updates on the situation. The words got out that it was a terrorist attack and the press is having a field day. If you have something useful to say young man I suggest that you spit it out!"
"There's going to be another ball tonight at his house in Rome as a mark of respect for Tremendo. It's going to be a huge charity event; loads of famous people are going." He said eagerly. "If the money's going to this charity which we know is a front to fund his research then there must be some way of tracing it back to Tremendo."
M's eyes once again narrowed dangerously. "The money goes straight into a Swiss bank account which we have been monitoring for the past 8 years thank you Mr…?"
"Hewitt." The boy supplied helpfully.
"Mr. Hewitt." M said coldly. "is that everything?"
The boy looked at the floor.
"Well then, as you enjoy listening to the radio so much I will let you continue your hobby to your hearts content." M said briskly, turning her back on the boy and striding away.
"Go home Mr. Hewitt!" She called back over her shoulder. "Get out of my sight!"
James trotted past the devastated youth to his employer who stood looking daggers at the workforce seated before her, heads bent and trying to make themselves as inconspicuous as possible.
"What is it 007? She snapped as he drew level, though as she turned to face him her expression softened a little. She knew that he was perhaps the only other person in the room as frustrated with their lack of action as she was.
"Hewitt may have had a point." Said James "he missed it but it was certainly there. Someone should go to this ball tonight; it's at Tremendos' house. There must be some clue there as to his whereabouts."
M smiled knowingly. "And you're volunteering yourself for this mission are you?" She asked. James nodded.
"I'm not sure 007," Said M frankly, "Tremendo already knows that you're an agent."
"Which will keep attention diverted from Moneypenny." James insisted.
M seemed determined to find fault with James' reasoning. "We haven't got enough information to prepare this mission." She snapped.
"That hasn't stopped you before!" Bond shot at her. M opened her mouth angrily to respond. Seeing that he had gone too far he backtracked quickly.
"We haven't time for this M. Quite why we haven't got time for it I don't yet know but you seemed very keen to send Moneypenny in as quickly as possible so I'm assuming speed is of the essence." James said quickly. "I'll feed back information and communicate with headquarters as often as possible. I'll treat this as I would any other intelligence gathering mission!"
"Will you though?" M asked in a surprisingly soft voice which grew harsher as she continued. "I know you have known Sarah for quite some time but you must treat this mission as you would any other. Camaraderie is admirable in our line of work 007 and loyalty is vital but you must remember your loyalty is to your country."
"Understood." James replied.
Satisfied that her comments had sunk in M cast a critical eye over Bonds appearance. "Well you can't go to Rome looking like that!" She sighed. She checked her wristwatch, it was 4:30. "Go home and rest James, God knows you deserve it. Be in my office 9AM sharp for a full debriefing."
James cast a last weary look back at the chaotic mess of workers before them. "Let's just hope you find something to debrief me on!"