Now

The Island

"What do you mean you saw a vast blackness?" asked Mason.

The four Captains were in a conference with Lucy Wagner in the Red October's bridge, regarding Lucy's meeting with the captive in the Red October's brig who claimed to be a man named Brian Talbot, but was believed to be Sir Gideon MacGuffin, the man whose intellect first spawned Project Phoenix.

"I asked him if he was MacGuffin, he said he wasn't." said Lucy uneasily, buckling under the unintended hostility Barbossa was speaking with, "His answer is- how do you say it? Irrelevant." said Lucy nervously, "All I needed is to produce a feeling in him, a feeling meaning him being honest or deceptive. But I couldn't read anything all."

"How come?"

"Some people cannot be read; psychics like me can not penetrate them, we cannot see what they feel. Such people might be born with this trait, nearly one in every thousand. Though I once learned that it can be granted, by an extremely powerful telepath."

"So you're saying that he might still be MacGuffin?"

"I'm do not know if Herr Talbot is really as such or if he is this MacGuffin that you seek."

Raimus sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, saying,

"Thank you Miss Wagner. You can return to the beach now."

"I'm sorry I couldn't help." said Lucy as she got up.

"No need to apologize, child." said Barbossa, and watched as Lucy exit.

"Miss Wagner." called Nemo before Lucy could leave, she turned back.

"Yes?"

"Could you perhaps go get yourself a cup of tea or something, then return in ten minutes?"

"Of course."

Lucy left. Barbossa turned to Nemo and asked,

"What was that about?"

"I'll explain later." said Nemo, "What do you think of what she had to say?"

"Well, it explains why they kept interrogating him for so long." said Raimus, "The League has a number of psychics in their employ, but not enough to interrogate most of their arrests. However a prisoner such as Talbot would warrant one of the top psychics to pay him a visit. I think that's damnable proof that he is MacGuffin, who is crafty enough to make preparations for if he ever got captured."

"Or perhaps Talbot is the unluckiest bastard that ever lived." said Barbossa.

"Quite." said Mason, "For all intents and purposes, Talbot appears to be Talbot; he passed the League's lie-detectors, gave a blank reading for the psychics, maintained his story while injected with drugs and after enduring tremendous torture.

"However, MacGuffin is trained to deceive lie-detectors and withstand torture, has an immunity to psychic readings, either natural or acquired, not to mention that the League had perfected a surgical method that increases certain enzymes that negate truth serum's effect."

"So far we've done or thought about doing everything the League have done. Perhaps we should consider doing something we would never do?" Nemo said.

"Like what?" asked Barbossa.

"We'll release him, allow him to mingle with everyone else. Perhaps that will calm him."

"Surely that's not all?"

"Of course not, I have a plan. One that might also help with our suspected turncoat. First, we need Miss Wagner to covertly read everyone. No one knows she's a psychic outside the four of us, correct? Now, she will eventually..."

London

M watched as the rain fell down thick and heavy, washing down the sides of the polished oak casket as the attendees lowered their heads with sorrow and grief.

The mourners were in in a great number, all dressed in black according to custom. Three in every four of them were women, usually young but all very attractive, which wasn't at all surprising considering the identity of the departed. The rest were mysterious looking men, rum looking characters who looked of an obvious kind of mystery, their clandestine vocation was clear as daylight to anyone who cared to look closely, cloak and dagger types, the lot of them.

One woman, a tall thing of her sixties with considerable charms collapsed onto the drenched grass. Gasps ran through the crowd as the adjacent gentry of lesser standing rushed to her aid.

A young man in a raincoat arrived at M's side, offering a plate of dirt and a putty knife. M picked up the instrument and took a dig of the wet dirt, then stepped forward and dropped the dirt onto the coffin, he returned the instrument and stepped back into place.

"So long, Austin."

The plate of dirt passed among the attendees, some left as they were done. M as his name was in actuality eyed a tall, gray haired slender woman of seventy as she left, her hands burried in the pockets of her trench coat and her head protected from the falling rain by her an umbrella held by her muscle bound bodyguard.

"Already the world feels grayer, now that Austin Powers is no longer with us."

"Sorry, M? I didn't quite catch that." said a brown haired, demure young woman who walked alongside M.

"Veruca... Miss Salt, when we're inside the confines of Voxhall Cross, I am M... At all other times, I am Basil Exposition."

"Sorry, Sir."

"It's alright."

"If I may ask, sir, is there any suspected reason why Sir Austin took his own life?"

"Powers was a man of principles, the League were people of pragmatism. It was the clash between his duties and his convictions that killed him. I asked him not to join them, three years ago when he decided to leave MI-6. I knew something like this was bound to happen."

"Mr. Exposition, if I may ask, who was that tall woman? I don't recognize her."

"That was Emma Peel, deputy director of the League, come to pay her obligatory respects."

"You don't seem to think much of the League, sir."

"Let's just leave, Miss Salt."

The Island

Talbot walked across the beach, afraid and suspicious of all those around him. After over six months of isolation and captivity he had finally been allowed out of a small, constricting cell. His captors having finally believing he wasn't Gideon MacGuffin, the man they were seeking and the man they had previously believed him to be. Talbot however, realized that they were not speaking the truth, and that they believed he still may be MacGuffin.

The sight was almost too incredible to bear, the shear size of it was more than he could handle. He had long forgotten what a Horizon could look like, and the sensation of the wind blowing through his beard and hair, cool and soothing.

Talbot was met by curious and suspicious stares from the inhabitants of the beach-side campsite, though none were antagonizing. No one talked to him as he made his way to the tent they promised him, which was one of two which were to the north border of the camp. He entered only to discover it wasn't vacant, as a slim, somewhat short man sat cross-legged on the ground, reading an old and torn paperback book.

"Hey, watch it!" said the man as he slithered away, "Get in, keep the motherfucking sunlight out!"

Talbot did as he was asked, making sure to shut the slit through which he came.

"You must be MacGuffin." said the man as he got up.

"I'm not MacGuffin!" barked Talbot in a Scottish brogue, "Why won't you all understand that? My name is TALBOT! Brain Talbot!"

"What the fuck? Shit, you didn't have to bite my head off!"

"I'm sorry...I..."

"Yeah, its okay. You've been locked up for seven months, tortured and interrogated to get you to admit to being MacGuffin, I understand if that name is the last thing you want to hear. Have they been treating you okay?"

"I'm in one piece. Since my liberation I had not been harmed by your people."

"Glad to hear it." said Priest as he extended his hand, "I'm Judas Priest. I'm the one who found out your location."

Talbot eagerly shook Priest's hand, "Talbot. And thank you. I cannot express how I am eternally in your debt!"

"Thanks." said Priest with a chuckle, "But I can't take all the credit, Mona did half the work. I'll introduce you to her later. Right now I'll bet you want some time alone, your tent is the one next door."

"I see, my mistake."

"It's okay, just watch the sunlight on your way out."

"Um... What is it with you and the sun, anyway?"

"Long story," said Priest as he sat back on the ground and picked up his book, "some of us are less alike than others. Surely you understand."

"I think I do. Look, can I say something?"

"I'm all ears."

"I am thankful to all of you for coming to my rescue, even though you shared my jailers' wrong notion of who I was. The Pakistani chap promised to take me anywhere I wanted once things quieted down. And I'm not entirely clear on who the people who held me were, or who you people are. I think one or the other is a spy ring, or so I've gathered... My point is, I'm not MacGuffin. I swear to Christ that I'm not."

Priest looked down, slightly disappointed.

"I think I believe you, Brian."

"Thank you, have a nice day."

A Few Days Ago

London

The League's summit was over and done with, resulting in plans to crack down harder on the opposition's activities, plans of trivial significance, worth little more than the air they breathed while discussing them. All that really happened was an increase in the tense relationships between the League's top eight. And now that the whole charade was over, it was time for Mina to head back to Gotham and resume her duties as Branch Director.

Mandy was downstairs, in the hotel's lobby waiting for Mina so that they could both head to the airport. Mina was still in her room looking for a pair of earrings she had misplaced. She leaned by a mantle and spied the jewel earring on the floor. Glad, she picked them up and straightened up to look into the mirror and put them on. She gasped as she was met with someone else's reflection, standing behind hers.

"Bond, what are you doing here?" she angrily asked.

"We need to talk, Josephine."

"Talk is all we've done for three days, I'm leaving." said Mina as she picked up her purse and tried to walk past Bond.

Bond rudely grabbed her hold of her by the forearm, preventing her from leaving. He looked with hatred into her eyes, his grip unwavering.

"Bond..." Mina growled, "Let go of me."

She tried to free herself of his grasp, but she couldn't. For being a man of advanced age, well past his prime, Bond still had most of his strength in him.

"Listen to me, you little bitch."

"How dare you?"

"How dare you? Speaking like that, against me? ME! You think you've got anyone fooled? Well think again."

"What in the bloody hell are you on about?"

Bond tightened his grip, and lowered his arm, causing Mina pain. Despite the tearing sensation, she resisted the urge to make any sign of hurt, denying Bond any satisfaction.

"You think you're better than everyone, you think you deserve better, but you're wrong. I know you've been eyeing my position for years, but you're never going to get it... The League will never allow a vampire bitch to run it."

"Bond, why don't you go fuck yourself?"

Bond released Mina's hand. She rubbed it slightly as the pain dissipated.

"There. Now.."

Before Mina could continue, Bond raised his hand and came down with a slap to Mina's face that knocked her to the ground.

Mina looked up at Bond in stunned silence as she got on her elbows, filled with shock and disbelief.

"Does this make you feel like a man, Bond?" asked Mina as she rubbed her throbbing cheek, "Does this make up for the fact that you're a shriveled, over the hill shadow of your former self? DOES IT?"

"Never insult me again," said Bond as he gave Mina his back, then made his way to the door, "Or you can start looking for another job."

"Is everything fine, Sir?" asked Michael Costas as Bond exited the elevator.

"Everything is fine, Michael." said Bond nervously, "Listen, later on, arrange for a special detail of bodyguards to provide security to my residence."

"As you wish, Sir. But why, you're not expecting an attack, are you?"

"No," said Bond, "But its best to be on the safe side, you know?"

"I'll get right on it."

"Make sure they're fitted with anti-vampire side-arms and UV-lights"

Now

The Island

Mona watched as Lucy walked away, having just had a somewhat bizarre kind of conversation with her.

"Is it just her, or are all Germans that weird?"

Shaun didn't respond, and simply looked out into the vast and turbulent ocean.

"What's the deal with her anyway?" Mona asked again, "I asked Nemo what her specialty was and he wouldn't tell me. I thought we were past all that need to know shit."

Shaun was still reeling from the brutal murder of his wife at the hands of the league less than a week ago, and was still withdrawn, talking to no one but Mona and Priest and doing so ever so briefly and increasingly infrequently. He continued to look out into the ocean while Mona did something behind his back, a couple of moments later he heard a click, then five sudden loud bangs that snapped him back into reality.

"What the hell was that?" he asked as he got up and looked behind to see Mona smiling with unmistakable satisfaction, with a smoking Beretta in her hand. Twenty-five feet away were five shattered bottles and three others still intact.

"'Happy-neeeeeess is a waaaaaaarm gunnnn...'" sang Mona, suddenly remembering a song from an old Beatles record that her father used to play on those rare occasions when he was trying to go straight and the family was all together.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Target practice. I gotta stay sharp."

"Well you should have at least told me you were going to do that!"

"Shaun, if you're going to stick around with these people, you're going to have to get used to unexpected shooting."

"Bloody hell!" said Shaun as he brushed his head.

"Would you like to learn to shoot?" asked Mona as she held the gun by the barrel and offered it to Shaun.

"What? I can already."

"Show me."

Shaun was hesitant, but took the gun and aimed it. He held it unsurely with his left hand and looked between Mona and the three bottles once ot twice before pulling the trigger repeatedly.

"Well, you can fire a gun..." said Mona as she looked at three bottles that stood in place, "But it's not called shooting unless you hit something."

"Sorry." said Shaun as he returned the gun, "I'm fairly decent with my Winchester, though."

"Its okay." said Mona as she reloaded the weapon and returned it, "Lets try again, shall we?"

A Few Days Ago

London

Mina looked into the bathroom mirror, at her bruised cheek. With a piece of tissue paper she wiped her tears, then picked up an ice pack and pressed it to the blue spot. Come nighttime, it would heal in a second, but until then it was going to sting and it was going to show.

She walked out of the bathroom, kicked off her high-heels and picked up her phone, dialed a number from her list, lay down on a sofa, closed her eyes with one hand holding the ice pack and the othe holding the phone to her ear and she waited for someone to pick up.

"Hello?... Mandy, I'm afraid I'm not going to be coming down just yet... I'm fine, but there's something I have to take care of here in London... No, it's a private matter, you go ahead and take the flight back to Gotham, I'll be there by tomorrow morning... No, love, I don't think you should stay and keep me company, this is something I don't want you to see... No its fine, I swear, there's just someone I have to see while I'm here. I hope you understand... I'm positive...Thank you, Mandy. Goodbye, I love you."

Bond has gone and done it, hasn't he?

R&R.

Next Chapter has it all; infra-red goggles, sexual harassment, Las Vegas, psychopomps and Ed Hyde's statue.