Well, here is where the story actually starts! As usual, please read and review. Enjoy!

Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

James Bond could barely see through the dust that covered the crowded streets of Rio. He looked down at the map in his hand, then back up at the street. An inconspicuous shack across the street was his target.

Trying not to be noticed, Bond made his way through the crowd towards the shack, a leather bag thumping against his leg. With luck, Bourne would be inside. With even better luck, the man wouldn't shoot him before he could explain himself. Without a gun, Bond felt naked among so many people.

Finally across the street, Bond snuck up toward the house. Looking around to make sure he wasn't followed, Bond went inside the small shack. The inside was cramped, with only room which contained a couch, a tv, and a desk with a computer on it. Bond also noticed that the room didn't contain Bourne. Sighing, Bond began to back out, only to feel the cold steel of a gun in his back.

A voice whispered behind him, "Walk very slowly into the house, and keep your hands where I can see them."

Bond dared not look behind him, and instead walked into the house as instructed. The voice spoke again, "Alright, now turn around very slowly."

Bond began to do as the man said, hoping the voice was Bourne's. Turning all the way around, Bond breathed a sigh of relief to see his suspicion was right. Bourne, meanwhile, looked puzzled to see the would-be thief so relieved. To him, it would seem like the man should be afraid.

Bourne spoke, "Alright, who are you?"

"A friend," Bond replied.

Bourne shook his head and looked down. "I don't have any friends...not anymore." He lifted his head back up. "I need a name, what's yours?"

Bond smirked. "Bond. James Bond."

Bourne's eyes widened. He had certainly heard of the man before, though had never seen him in person. However, he quickly grew suspicious. "I guess you know who I am."

Bond shook his head yes. Bourne dropped his stance from threatening to puzzled. "So why are you here? What does MI6 want with me?"

Bond dropped his arms to his side. "In case you haven't heard, after the little fiasco in Philadelphia I'm no longer working with the Secret Service." At the mention of Philadelphia, Bourne's interest peaked, but he said nothing. Bond continued. "I was told to come find you, that you were the only one who could help me." Bond's expression became smug. "Was I wrong?"

Bourne sighed and walked over to the well-worn couch, indicating that Bond should sit down. Bond did, and Bourne pulled up a chair beside him. "All right, what exactly do you need from me?" Boune asked.

Bond reached into the leather bag he had been carrying, pulling out the file M had given him. "I need information on these men." The pictures, while blurry, showed the two murderous agents from Philadelphia. Bourne picked up the photo and seemed to study it for several seconds. Of course, he already knew exactly where the pictures were from, but Bond didn't need to know that.

Meanwhile, Bond waited nervously, hoping that this man could help him, but starting to think that he might be stuck at square one still. After several moments of silence, Bourne spoke up. "I know who these guy are alright, but you won't like what you hear." Bond indicated for him to go on, now interested. "These guys work for the group Pólemos, known outside of Greece as ARES."

Confused, Bond spoke up. "ARES? The mercenary group? I thought they were working for governments, not killing their agents. Bad for business, really."

Bourne nodded. "I've been following these guys for a while, and I thought the same thing; so I did some digging." Out of a drawer in the computer desk Bourne produced another file; he placed it in front of Bond and let the contents spill across the table.

"Turns out, the men killed that night weren't very much in line with the CIA's new policy of handing over it's duties to mercs. The meeting you crashed was them trying to get the mercs off the CIA's back. Turns out, Elliot Wilkinson, the new CIA Director, didn't like what they were doing."

A light clicked on in Bond's head as he put two and two together. He grabbed the file on ARES from the table and spoke. "So with those two out of the way, ARES is free to do as they please, and I assume Mr. Wilkinson gets a handsome kickback?"

Bourne made his hand in the shape of a gun. "Bingo."

Something still didn't seem right to Bond however. "Why would ARES want to buddy with the CIA? Aren't their soldiers and resources all still in Syria and Afghanistan?"

Bourne stood up and walked over to the computer desk. On the computer chair was a beaten-up leather jacket. Bourne reached inside the jacket and pulled out a crumpled-looking piece of paper. "I received this about 8 months ago, from a friend on the inside."

Bourne handed the paper to Bond and continued speaking. "On it, he detailed just how big ARES is. Turns out, mercenary work is just about a third of their organization. What they specialize in is terrorism, counter-terrorism, and civilian control." His face turned grim. "They move in, buddy up to the Intelligence agencies, and are given pretty much free reign to do whatever they want in a country. Drug and human trafficking, slave labour, condos, you name it they will do it."

Following the train of thought, Bond spoke up. "And America is their next target." Now it was Bond's face which turned grim. "Or, after Philadelphia, used to be their target."

He stood up and began to pace. "Alright, so how do we stop them then? I can't go back to MI6 without freeing my name, which won't happen as long as ARES controls the CIA. But if ARES is a huge, multinational organization, how am I supposed to stophurt them?"

Bourne threw on the beaten leather jacket and grinned. "Well Mr. Bond, you happened to come at the right time."

With that, Bourne walked out the door. Flustered, James ran to catch up as Bourne began to disappear into the crowd in the street. Bond had to yell just to be heard above the noise. "Where in the bloody hell are we going?"

Bourne grinned again and yelled back, "To catch a bus!"

Bond thought about asking where the bus was headed, or what this had to do with ARES, but shook his head. There would be time for that later. All he could do now was nervously survey his surroundings and hope no one was following them.

Luckily, the bus station was not far, and Bourne already possessed two tickets. He explained that he "always kept a spare."

Bond looked at the tickets. They were in the name of a Mr. Joao do Carmo, and were for a one-way trip to Sao Paulo. They boarded the rusty, old bus and found an empty seat near the back. Sitting on the worn leather and cold metal bench next to the window, Bond decided it was time for a few more answers.

Waiting until Jason had sat down, Bond spoke. "Okay, we are going to Sao Paulo, why?"

Bourne sighed. He wasn't used to explaining his actions to someone else. "We are meeting a contact there. A runner. He can get us anything: information, transportation, guns, whatever. We'll need him too, because Sao Paulo is also the location of an ARES management facility. It handles a majority of ARES' finances, and if it's taken down then that's a kick where it hurts."

Bond smiled, he liked the idea of getting back at ARES. "Alright Mr. Bourne, sounds good. Anything to get back at ARES." The pair shook hands and settled in for the long ride to Sao Paulo.