Bond cupped his left hand around the two playing cards in front of him and lifted the tops of them with his right. A pair of nines. It was a strong enough start – whatever cards came up now, he was at least guaranteed a pair, the only certain guarantee that could ever be drawn from the hole cards alone. He looked up, his gaze scraping briefly with that of the man sat opposite him – Quentin Schaal. He was a representative of SPECTRE and possibly the most powerful man sat at the table. His skin was pale, his short black hair swept back from the temples. He had dark, searching eyes with a piercing stare and shark-like features. Bond quickly glanced over him, taking in his sinisterly minimal body language, before allowing himself to look towards the spectators.
His eyes came to rest on a slender young woman who was stood a little distance from the railing. Her silky brunette hair hung just past her shoulders and glistened in the warm glow of the casino. Her dark eyelashes fluttered slightly as she gave Bond a slow wink, her rose-coloured lips curling into a delicate smile. She had beautiful dark eyes that would have left most men lost for words. Bond had made her acquaintance the previous night…
The door to the hotel room was flung open, casting a long rectangle of light upon the darkness. Suddenly, pushed into the pool of light on the carpet, was the young woman wearing a short black dress and high-heeled shoes that she quickly slipped her aching feet out of. Swiftly following her through the doorway was the robust figure of Quentin Schaal, clad in a pale grey suit and black shirt.
"Get on the bed." he demanded in a sharp, direct voice. The girl, trembling, her lips parted slightly, did as he said. Schaal pushed the door shut, plunging the room into absolute darkness, save for the distant glow of streetlights beyond the window. He unbuttoned his jacket, throwing it to the floor, and then turned to the dressing table at his right, where a small ornate lamp was sat. His fingers fumbled at its long, artistically sculpted stem, before finding the switch. The instant he had turned it on, a cold metallic object was pressed into the back of his neck.
"Hands up. No sudden movements," said Bond, stepping out from where he had been hidden behind the door. "I'm sure I don't need to tell you this gun is silenced and I will use it if you try anything."
"Who… who are you?" Schaal stammered, raising his hands.
"You'll see me tomorrow at the Poker table, so long as you don't make me blow your brains out now."
"What are you doing in my room?"
"If I told you that, I really wouldn't be very good at my job."
"Your job? What do you mean? Who do you work for?"
"Someone who is very eager SPECTRE does not end up with an additional thirty billion pounds in their bank account. And we are willing to do a lot to ensure that doesn't happen."
"You don't frighten me."
"We'll see about that tomorrow night." Bond stated firmly. "Now, get out."
"This is my room!"
"And this is my gun, so I suggest you do as I say."
With stiff reluctance in his movements, Schaal reached for the door handle and let himself out. Stepping into the corridor and turning back round, he caught only a fleeting glimpse of Bond's face, as he slammed the door shut again.
Bond wasted no time sliding the lock on the door into place and barricading it shut by jamming one of the room's chairs under the handle. Only then did he slide the PPK back into its holster under his jacket and turn to the girl who was still lying on the bed, propped up on her elbows.
"We need to get out." he told her.
"Blocking the door doesn't tend to help…"
"Schaal's still out there and he'll be sending for backup." Bond explained. "I'd say we've got less than two minutes before they arrive."
"What makes you think I'll go with you?"
"Well, I can't see you wanting to stay with him."
Bond quickly went to the window and flung it open. Sticking his head out, he looked up and down the building.
"My room's directly below. The window's open, we can get in through that."
"So all we have to do is climb down the building…"
"Don't worry," said Bond, pulling his phone out of his pocket, "I've got an app for that."
His fingers dashed over a few icons on the phone's screen and the back of the casing flipped open, revealing a small grappling hook, folded flat, connected to the phone with a length of coiled wire. Leaning out of the window and aiming it upwards, Bond pressed the button on the bottom of the phone, sending the grappling hook sailing up and into a thin ledge higher on the hotel wall.
"Grab on!"
The girl ran over to him, wrapping her arms tightly around him from behind. As soon as she did so, a heavy banging noise came from the other side of the door. Schaal's friends had arrived.
"You sure that wire can support our weight?"
"Perfectly sure. Q Branch hasn't let me down yet."
The girl still clinging to his back, Bond stepped onto the windowsill, facing into the room. He used a clip on the phone to secure it to his belt. The girl's legs were suddenly wrapped around him, preventing her from slipping and falling the long distance to the dark street below.
"What's your name?" Bond asked.
"Katrina Luxure."
"Pleasure to meet you, Katrina Luxure. Mine's James Bond."
With a firm kick against the surface he was perched on, Bond sent the two of them soaring through the cold night air. For the moment they were in free-fall, he felt Katrina's grip tightening on him, her slight arms wrapped around his chest, her legs pressing against his. Bond would have found the experience a pleasurable one, but the task currently at hand was demanding all his concentration. He threw his weight forward just as they came into line with the top of his room's open window. Slanting down through the air, they swung perfectly through the open space and landed on the soft red carpet. Katrina freed herself from Bond's back, as he unclipped the phone from his belt, and reeled the grappling hook back in.
"Where did you get that thing?" Katrina asked in a breathless voice.
"It's a work phone." said Bond, slipping it back into his pocket. "No, wait!"
Katrina had started to run for the door. She stopped at Bond's words.
"They'll have gotten into the room above by now," she said, "it won't take them long to work out where we are!"
"Look." Bond was pointing to the door – a metallic cylinder was fastened to its surface, just beneath the handle. "Stand back."
It didn't take long. The thundering footsteps sounded out from within the hallway, coming to a halt at Bond's door. With a strong 'thud', the door was forced open. As soon as it moved, there was a bright white flash, accompanied by a deafening bang. This quickly faded, to make way for the cloud of smoke that erupted from the two halves of the cylinder. From within this sudden fog, there emerged two square-framed men, who both fell flat on the ground.
"Are they…" Katrina began and Bond placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
"Dead? No. Just unconscious."
After his long experience in the Secret Service, it didn't take Bond long to hide the two thugs in a caretaker's cupboard. After he had ensured they were safely stashed away, he returned to the bedroom with Katrina. Before he turned his attention to her, he locked the door and removed his jacket, tie and gun holster.
"Is there a reason you brought me here, Mr Bond?" Katrina asked him. "Is there something I can help you with?"
"Call me James. And, since you mention it, yes there is. Any information you can give me on Quentin Schaal that may be of use against him in the Poker game tomorrow night."
"I'm afraid I don't know much about Poker…" She seemed to hesitate, before making up her mind on revealing any more to Bond. "But I might be able to get you some information on the account his winnings would be going into."
"That could be useful… what exactly is your relation to Schaal?"
"Officially, I'm one of his less-important secretaries," she explained, "but, unofficially, I'm more like his plaything."
"Well, I can't possibly let that continue." Bond said quietly, stepping towards Katrina. He gently took her hands in his. "I can assure you, after tomorrow, Schaal will no longer be a problem for you."
"Without him, I have no job."
"I know some people who can help you there."
Katrina looked up at him, her dark eyes meeting the pale blue of Bond's. She remained still for a moment, staring into the handsome face.
"Thank you," she whispered eventually and slowly brought her face towards his. Bond matched her motion, bowing his head down slightly, until their lips met. As they kissed, their eyes closed, they fell into each other's embrace. Pulling Bond closer with one hand, Katrina used the other to unbutton his shirt and brush it from his torso. Bond then ran his hand down the zip on her back, and Katrina's small dress dropped to the floor. Gradually, the two of them lay down on the double bed, their bodies pressing against each other, and they allowed their sudden desire to take control.