CHAPTER 2
Key:
Bold, Italic and Underlined - pre-story information
Bold - Auther's note in the middle of a paragraph
'Italic With Quote Marks - First person thought'
[Inspiration= 'Little Do You Know' by Alex and Sierra (You'll get it eventually... Hopefully)]
[This is an angst/romance fic (I got this wrong on the previous chapter, sorry)]
[Warnings: Swearing, Violence, Blood, Graphic Descriptions]
[Third Person POV]
"God dammit you incompetant fools! Tell me where the hell he is!" James yelled, his voice projecting through Q branch.
"I... I don't know where-" One of the new interns bravely spoke up, half sheltered by a computer screen
"You don't know? What the hell do you mean you don't know?" He yelled again as the intern's eyes darted back to his computer screen avoiding eye contact with the clearly distressed double- oh agent. "You work in Q Branch for goodness sake! How the fuck can you not track his cell or use you're stupid IP Adresses?"
"Uhm... I think you're forgetting the person you're wanting us to track is Q... We can't track our own Quarter Master... It's virtually impossible, I mean the amount of encryption we have in all of our personal computers is barely equal to half the level of code Q has in his doorbell... his fricken doorbell..." A senior worker answered. James' cheeks flushed a shade of red that was foreign to his face in both anger and embarrassment at how he's acting, underestimating Q at what he's good at, if Q was hearing this he'd more than likely not be getting any new gadgets for months, maybe even years. The kid took pride in his work, in his talents, there was no doubt about that.
"Well just fucking try and if you don't even make the effort so help me I'll-"
"Bond!". James' head snapped to whoever used his second name and not his number... everyone at MI6 uses his famous number...
"Ma'am?" He answered as M stood in the glass doorway to Q branch, a forlorn look in her eyes "Ma'am, what's wrong?"
"We found a suspect..."
"What? A suspect, Ma'am?"
"Q... He's been abducted...". James' heart dropped and there were slight gasps coming from a few of the inhabitants of Q Branch as all keyboard tapping and tea sipping halted.
"Where's this suspect?". A tinge of coldness had crept into Jame's tone and M hesistated before revealing the suspect's location.
Agent Double Oh Seven stormed out of the doors into the corridors of MI6. He was no longer James. He was Double Oh Seven. He was Agent Bond. James was left behind back at Q's empty desk. He barreled through a door into an interrogation room and the man sat alone on the metal chair jumped out of his skin. 007 lunged forwards, grabbed the man by the front of his shirt and slammed his back into the wall.
"Where the fuck is he?". The interogatee just laughed straight at Bond's face, in other words he just signed his death warrant. The agent threw the suspect across the room where he pummeled into the one way mirror, effectively smashing it before falling into a heap on the floor amongst the shards of glass. Double Oh Seven strode forwards and picked the man up, placing him back on the chair. "Where. Is. He?" He asked again as the man studied the thousand or so small cuts on the palms of his hands. Bond watched as the idiot oozed blood from a majority of his exposed skin, like he was sweating the stuff.
"You're probably too late anyway." The man spat through yellow teeth, his voice fairly confident.
"You tell me where the fuck he is or I swear to God I'll shoot you where you are."
"Shoot me... and you'll never find out where your precious Q is being tortured." The man replied with a tinge of arrogance in his words.
Bond strode out of the door and through the oddly empty corridors again. He stumbed into M's office as she sat behind her desk, shuffeling paperwork around like it was a regular wednesday night.
"How can you be sat there, procrastinating paperwork, pretending that one of our own, probably one of the most important, irriplacable member, is not even out there somewhere, in trouble, in need of help!?" James asked as M looked up slowly and unamused.
"Ever heard of knocking?"
"You're missing the point! Did you hear anything I just said?" He asked, his cheeks were burning with rage and he felt as though he was going to snap.
"I heard you, Double-Oh Seven."
"Then answer me!"
"Double-Oh Seven, If I was to lay awake all night because an MI6 employee is missing from the field, I'd never get any sleep, especially since we emplyed you, Bond."
"That's different! I was trained for it, Double Oh six, and Double oh FIve... We were all trained for that... Q isn't trained for it. He doesn't know how to withstand beatings, he doesn't know what to do, how to avoid questions in an interrogation... He doesn't know how to keep the will to live as he's being tortured for god knows what!" James screamed, tears threatened to fall for the first time in years and he displayed a subtle, heartbroken expression on his slightly pained face.
"The Quarter Master is being tortured?" M asked, ignoring the looks on James' face, ignoring the rest of his exclamation.
"Yes."
"How do you know this 007?"
"The suspect told me.". M seemed to hesistate slightly.
"Q's a big boy. He'll... He'll live."
"Do you honestly believe that?" James asked, as his arms fell limply to his sides.
"No."
"Then do something to help him!"
"I'd love to, Bond. But we simply don't have the resources for a search party big enough to find him."
"Fine." James exclaimed like a fed up little boy "I'll find him myself.". 007 walked strongly out of the room as M called several phrases after him, attempting- very poorly- to get Bond to stay.