After stealing three cars and crashed two of them he had made his way to Rio. Having changed his clock to clean clothes and stole a gun that work, he had found his way to the small boat harbour. He just hoped that who ever it was who was supposed to pick him up had good medical kit waiting. The tap wound was painful and he was afraid that it would soon begin to bleed again. Sitting on the corner of the bar full of tourists he waited and felt nervous. There was no way to contact MI6 now and if he was forced to seek help he had to find way to contact Felix and that meant CSI, and that would make M very very angry indeed. So Bond waited, and hoped. And waited more, sipping his third beer and watching the World Cup semi final going on in big TV screen. It was good thing because it drew most of the attention away from anything, or anyone else.
"Mr Hunt, here again." Came familiar voice behind the bar desk and Bond leaned back trying to hide himself bit more that the owner wouldn't notice him. He had successfully managed to avoid him the past four hours.
"Oh, I was heading to south when I got call from my old friend and now I'm heading back to the north, to the Caribbean to meet her." Soft, bit out of place British voice said and Bond have to take a look at the young man standing there. Black curly hair and classes, his smile bit shy, skin very tan from sun. No weapons, that Bond could notice anyway.
"How's the Phoenix?" The owner asked.
"Have to make some repairs to the mainsail."
"Oh, the Wing got damages?" The owner sounded a little upset and the young man laughed lightly. "Nothing to worry, but I have to sail whit spare sail now."
"Glad to hear. The Phoenix's Wing is just beautiful." The owner sighed and moved to his next customer and Mr Hunt moved away quickly. He seemed to look available sitting place and then moved toward Bond.
"Can I?" His long finger rested on the chair across the table asking permission and Bond nodded.
"Of course." He moved his gaze back to the TV screen.
Mr Hunt lowered his drink on the table and sat, his eyes locked at Bond.
"Heard that you need a gateway from here, Mr Bond."
Bond's eyes were back at him but he didn't say anything so the young man continued, but now his gaze moved also to the screen.
"Tanner said that you wouldn't trust me so easily."
Bond flashed a smile. "Of course he said that."
"Asked me to remind you that you own him fifty pounds."
Bond groaned and Hunt seemed interested and he glanced quickly the agent again. "You really went and…"
"Don't say it." Bond scowled at him and Hunt laughed. "The whole apartment though about what the result was. Now I know."
"Apartment? And that is…?" But Hunt's eyes were elsewhere, looking the people around them.
"You find the Phoenix in guest port, dock 5. I'm there in an hour and we can leave before the sunset."
And suddenly there were cheers and shouts of people bouncing up of their seats. Someone had made goal and when the cheers silent again a bit, Hunt was gone. Bond finished his beer and made some thinking before he got up and slipped out the back door. He had forty minutes to make a few inquiries and preparations.
#
Bond looked the sailboat. It was old white Swan 51 and on its side was proudly displayed with the red letters The Phoenix.
"You sail alone?"
Hunt shrugged. "Once in two years when I get some free time around my work. After the accident…" For a moment Hunt seemed bit lost what he would say. "Well, just say that I don't do planes. The boat is only way to me to travel. I was seventeen when my uncle gave it to me. He works in NUMA* and over the years it's been customised to my, hmm, preferences." He sounded proud and Bond helped himself on the deck. It was old, but very well taken care. Loved one some would say. But when they got inside he truly knew what Hunt meant by customised. He had never seen so much technologic in one sailboat.
"Some of these are behalf of my uncle, I test them to him. Most of them are I myself designed and I test them to you agents."
"Q-branch." Bond realized. His god damn savior was a nerd, engineer. Hunt seemed to know what Bond was thinking and let small laugh. "Oh, I haven't introduced myself 007." Hunt offered his hand. "I'm your new Quartermaster."
"You must be joking." Bond stared the offered hand.
"Because I wasn't wear a lab coat?"
"Because you still have spots."
Hunt grinned.
Bond took the hand. "Q."
"007, I think you need my medical kit." He frowned looking Bond's side and now Bond grinned. He liked this man.
"So you know the situation?" Bond asked when Q patched him up and Bond noted that the man knew what he was doing. Well, what he knew about Q-branch and their projects he couldn't wonder. Bond had passed lot of his time to annoy the lot of Q- branch, but he had never seen this man before. He hadn't never been R, that was sure.
"Yes. Got yourself truly in trouble. The list is in safe?"
"Yes."
"We can transport that in MI6 when we are out from here via the satellite."
Bond frowned and Q looked up and realized that he was handling one of the double-o agents.
"Or you can offer that to M yourself. Your choice. My only job is to take you over Atlantic to Britannia. You can speak with her tonight." He began to collect the stuffs.
"Good. That's good." Bond felt himself suddenly tired and again Q was ahead of him.
"Sleep. There is food and drink, so relax and I handle the boat." Q patted Bond's shoulder.
"I was in navy." Bond said offering his help but Q shook his head.
"I know, Commander. But like I said, I sail alone. And better that no one sees you when we leave." And then he was back up on the deck and Bond was alone. He got the water bottle and laid himself on the narrow bed. He was exhausted and fell asleep in a minute.
#
*About NUMA (National Underwater and Marine Agency) you have to know something about Clive Cussler's books. If you seek some good reading those are one of the bests.