Chapter 6 – The Girl Returns

Moments later, Bond walked down the empty hall to his room. As he approached the appropriate door, he swiped the room key into the corresponding electronic slot, opening it. The room was black as pitch. He tinkered with the light switch until bright illumination overtook the place. Locking the door and moving about, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over a lonely leather chair in the corner. He entered the spacious bathroom, turning on the light. Moving toward the Jacuzzi tub, he rolled up a shirt sleeve and turned on the water, drawing himself a bath.

As Bond went back to the bedroom, he took off his shoulder holster and placed it on the bed. After kicking off his shoes and socks, he removed his shirt and pants, folding each neatly and placing them with the jacket. Pouring himself a scotch from the mini bar, he gradually returned to the bathroom. As he removed his lone undergarment and eased into the bath, the water overtook his tense body. Taking a final drink of scotch, he leaned his head back, closing his eyes. A wonderful wave of relaxation suddenly overwhelmed him.

A few moments of silence went by as Bond began to doze. A rough day had been had, not as forceful as some, but rough nonetheless. From out of nowhere, a tall and voluptuous, curly haired brunette in a man's bathrobe entered the bathroom, gripping Bond's pistol in her hand. It was Roza Somovich. She stayed very rigid, attempting to be as silent as possible. Moving closer to the tub, she watched Bond breathe, his shaggy chest rising and falling in a tranquil motion. She remained silent, finally aiming the gun directly at Bond.

As she prepared to fire, Bond called out to her, scaring her.

"Roza, my dear girl, if you're going to kill me, I hope you removed the safety first."

"James, I…" Roza's words were lost to the sudden apprehension that came over her.

"Yes?" James condescended with a brief laugh.

Roza stayed quiet. Smiling nervously, she moved about, placing the gun on the vanity beside the Jacuzzi.

"How did you get in here?" Bond wondered, narrowing his eyes his with contempt. "And why are you in my bathrobe?"

"I must confess James, I was here before you came back. I took a shower, realized I had nothing to wear, so I commandeered your robe and hid in the closet."

"Well, I see you made yourself at home, but why do you want to kill me?" Bond asked smugly.

"I'm a freelance assassin James, it's what I do."

"Really, I thought you were a hotel heiress?" Bond wondered in surprise. She didn't strike him as a very professional killer, leaving the safety on his gun.

"No, that part is true. But I'm working for a man, the owner of this hotel. He pays me to solve his problems"

"Ah yes, so you are in cahoots with Armonov. Is that why you skipped out on our private rendezvous? That man in your room was not a very good substitute, although he fell pretty hard for me and the caviar was mediocre."

"Yes, well I do have my orders," she declared irately, reclaiming the gun, removing the safety, and aiming it towards Bond.

"If you do decide to kill me, please give me my dignity. At least allow me to get dressed."

"Yes of course, but no tricks," Roza ordered, keeping the gun set on Bond.

Bond smiled and immediately arose from the tub. Grabbing a towel from the brass rack on the wall, he began drying off and wrapped it around his waist. As he finally exited the bath, Bond paid attention to his gun as it tracked his movements. He suddenly stopped, looked down for a moment, and then with great haste, gripped the towel from his waste, pitching it upward towards the gun. As Roza hesitated to respond to the distraction, Bond darted towards her. Shoving her into the wall, he knocked the weapon from her grasp. The gun dropped to the floor and loudly ejected a bullet. He swiftly grabbed her hips, pinning her to the wall.

"James, what the hell are you doing?" Roza remarked, aroused by Bond's quickness, wrapping her legs around his naked frame.

"Taking advantage of the situation," he affirmed, smiling urbanely and initiating a passionate kiss.

Roza started to fight off his advances, after all she was being paid a hefty sum to kill James Bond. As the kiss intensified, she felt Bond's hands move about her body. The pleasure felt too good to struggle any longer. Giving in, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into her. Gripping her hips, he carried her to the tub. Releasing her from his clutches, he smiled at her momentarily as she removed her robe and entered the bath. He hurriedly dimmed the lights and joined her.

A few hours later, the bed sheets were tossed gently to and fro, as Bond and Roza kissed softly. Bond halted the embrace, glancing romantically into Roza's eyes.

"Oh James. Never have I had a man like you," Roza declared, smiling with elation.

"Roza darling, you have a choice. You don't have to work for terrorists," Bond countered seriously.

"James, I only work for Armonov because if I don't do as he says, he'll kill me. We entered into an agreement long ago that I would be paid whatever I wanted if I worked for him."

"So is that all he pays you for, killing?"

"Well that, and for what we just did," Roza uttered with a smile.

"So he's a lover to," Bond said with great contempt in his voice.

"Yes, but nothing like you," Roza assured, trying to comfort Bond.

"Roza if you keep this up, one day he'll kill you," Bond barked heatedly. "He's a sick man who cares for nothing but his own personal gain. You've got to get out of this somehow."

"Can you protect me?" Roza asked with fear in her eyes.

"I'll do what I can, if you'll help me stop him."

"I don't really know anything. He keeps me in the dark. I just do my job and collect what he pays me. I cringe when I think of what he'll do to me when I tell him I failed to kill you."

"I doubt he'll be too hard on you. He probably thought you'd fail anyway, because just earlier he invited me to his lodge for the weekend."

"Oh he'll try something there, no doubt. He only invites people there when he's feeling particularly gruesome," Roza warned.

"I'll be careful."

"You'll be dead. I've worked with some of his henchmen. These Iron Knights are a very dangerous organization."

"Yes, I'm quite sure they are, but I wouldn't be very good at my job if I wasn't prepared."

"And what exactly is it that you do James?" Roza inquired, smiling.

"I work for Universal Exports."

"I'm sure," Roza pronounced with a chuckle. "Nice try Mr. Bond, but I don't think an export man would be tracking terrorists. What is it that you really do?"

"I'm involved with the British government. Let's leave it at that," Bond remarked, sighing heavily, playfully shoving a pillow in Roza's face.

"Right as an export man," Roza teased, laying her head on Bond's chest.

Kissing the top of her head, Bond reached out to the lamp on the elegant night table that was cattycornered next to the bed. As he turned out the light, he laid there, trying to ponder Armonov's next move. He was anxious to stop Armonov because like everyone else that held interest in this mission, he was unsure of when the warheads would be sold. He was uncertain of what the consequences would be if he just decided to blow up these damn nuclear weapons himself. Would he get the opportunity and if so, how many lives would be lost? Would M terminate him from civil service all together? Bond tried not to think about it and hoped, even knew that it probably wouldn't come to that. Closing his eyes, he held Roza tightly in his arms and attempted to fall asleep.

Hours passed and Bond was awoken, as a cold draft suddenly permeated the room. He rolled over in the bed, only to find it partially vacant. Roza was gone. It took him a moment to realize that the doors to the bedroom's balcony were open. Outside on the landing, Roza stood smoking a cigarette in the same bathrobe she had worn before. Bond grabbed his watch from the night table, checking it. It was four-thirty in the morning.

Bond got out of bed. He slowly walked forward to the balcony with the skill of a sleek predator, noticing Roza's perfect features. He softly grasped her shoulders and massaged, feeling her tense muscles ease suddenly. Cherishing her with his hands, he then wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her close to his chest. Roza sighed deeply and rested her head back on his broad chest. With his arms wrapped around her, she felt safe, safer than she had in long time. She purred against his neck. Her dark eyelashes fanned her cheeks before her chocolate eyes batted opened. She smiled slightly.

"You're up early." Bond alluded, as he nuzzled the top of her head, whiffing the delectable smell of her hair.

"I just couldn't sleep. When I think about all the assassinations I've done, none of them compare to him. I used to plan his death, down to the smallest detail, but after a while I gave up because I knew I would never be able to kill him. He's too powerful, too connected. And now if you stop him, I'll be free," Roza proclaimed, hugging Bond tightly.

Bond held her face, looking seriously into her eyes. "He will be stopped darling. I promise."