coco1997 & tdalton present
a new james bond fanfiction adventure
DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fanfiction. Many of the characters and some situations contained within this story are the creation of either Ian Fleming or EON Productions. No copyright infringement is intended, as this is merely presented as a tribute to both the James Bond novels, written by Ian Fleming, and the James Bond film franchise, which are produced by EON Productions. No monetary gain is made from this work whatsoever. It is merely presented for the entertainment of the CBn community.
NOTE: This project was the result of conversations that occurred during the wind down of the "Ultimate Bond" fanfiction game that occurred here on CBn a few years back. What coco1997 and I set out to do was to re-imagine some of the Bond films and novels, using a mixture of already established characters and our own original characters to create what are mostly original works. This project, A WHISPER OF LOVE, A WHISPER OF HATE, is a re-imagining of the characters and some events from the LIVE AND LET DIE source material.
When the siren went off, it could be heard all over the island of San Monique, an island in the waters where the Gulf of Mexico and the Caribbean meet, located north of both Cancun, Mexico, and PInar del Rio, Cuba. The island had, for most of its history, escaped colonization by the world powers, mostly because there was no abundance of any of the most sought after natural resources.
That had changed more than a decade ago, when the first of what the local population called the “invaders” came to the island. They were repelled quickly, partly due to the force of the local population, but also in some part due to the presence of the goddess Solitaire. Solitaire, a beautiful and pure woman with long, blue-black hair who had been a part of the local religion dating back long before any of those currently living on the island knew, had long protected the island. That was the story that they told themselves.
The sirens had arrived not long after the first actual sighting of Solitaire, which occurred within the last five years. Since then, they had become commonplace, a warning to the locals not to venture down into the cove where she had long been thought to reside. In the early days of what the locals called P.A., or post-appearance, the sirens were a regular part of daily life. People would venture down there either to try to see the goddess themselves or they would go down there to try to debunk the entire thing. In the last couple of years, the sirens had lessened considerably in frequency, to the point that they were no longer a part of every day life.
Following every sounding of the siren, the offending party was captured by the settlers that Solitaire had allowed to inhabit the cove and then brought up the cliff to a ritual site in which they were sacrificed to the goddess. Tonight’s siren was no different and the locals began to assemble for the ritual.
T.H. Johnson, one of the settlers permitted by the goddess to be in the cove, quickly moved down the makeshift stone staircase that led from the top of the cliff down to the bottom where the cove was located. Halfway down there was a small landing where there was a door built into the face of the cliff. Using the hook that stood in place of his right hand, T.H. knocked loudly on the door. He waited several moments and then opened the door and entered.
Inside was a sight that betrayed its surroundings. Dug into the face of the cliff was what could only be described as a penthouse, much like what one might see in a fancy New York City highrise, albeit without the windows providing a gorgeous view. T.H. navigated his way through the penthouse to the bedroom. In the queen size bed, completely unaware of his presence, was Simone Latrelle. The sound of her breathing was the only noise in the room. The penthouse had been made entirely soundproof so that the sirens did not disturb her.
T.H. cleared his throat loudly. Simone stirred in the bed and then sat up. She was naked but made no effort to cover herself in T.H.’s presence. “What is it?” she asked groggily.
“The sirens have sounded. The locals are gathering for a sacrifice.”
“Who did we catch this time? Another local or is it something that we should be concerned about?”
“There’s cause for concern.”
Simone sat in the bed for a few moments longer, contemplating the next move. She rose from the bed and crossed the bedroom to a large wooden armoire. She could feel T.H.’s eyes following her. “You can stop staring, Tee Hee,” she said, invoking the nickname that she knew he hated, but it had long since stuck to him.
He didn’t say anything. “Leave me,” she instructed as she put on a white ceremonial robe. I’ll be at the ritual site momentarily.”
He turned and left the penthouse, quietly shutting the door behind him. Simone made her way to the main room of the penthouse, where there was a large 27-inch iMac computer. She clicked the mouse a few times, bringing up security footage of the cove. After rewinding the film a few minutes, she found what she needed: the image of a man being led up the stone steps by Tee Hee and some of his men. She retrieved her tarot cards and set about identifying the man on the computer monitor.
Outside, Tee Hee had made his way to the top of the cliff, where the clearing that served as the ritual site was filling up with locals. Many brought with them makeshift musical instruments, playing songs of tribute to the goddess Solitaire. One man danced around the growing bonfire in the middle of the clearing with a venomous coral snake hoisted above his head.
Tee Hee had been easily able to distinguish what kind of snake it was the first time he had seen it. The alternating red, yellow, and black bands gave the snake away. He always made sure to stay away from the snake charmer, having had a run-in with a coral snake while stationed in Brazil a couple of decades ago. It had nearly cost him his right leg.
The siren had stopped blaring, the sound of which was replaced by the primitive music and chanting being performed in the clearing by the gathered local population. This quickly gave way to the blaring sound of tribal horns, causing the crowd to fall silent. On the cliff side of the clearing, there was a stone alter that stood two stories tall. From it, the goddess Solitaire levitated above the altar and began to descend toward the clearing.
Her bare feet touched the ground, making no noise whatsoever. She walked towards the center of the clearing, where the bonfire was burning. Her white robe billowed in the light breeze, as did her blue-black hair. The gathered crowd simply watched as she made her way towards her offering.
Her ‘offering’ was the intruder that had made his way into the cove. He was tied to a wooden stake, which he was struggling against in an effort to free himself. He stopped moving once his eyes locked with Solitaire’s.
She stopped in front of him, her eyes fixated on his. “Mr. Harris. It’s so nice to meet you.”
“Please, what?” she asked.
“Let me go.”
Solitaire moved even closer to Harris, leaning up so that she could whisper in his ear. “Why would I do a thing like that?”
“Please,” was all he could answer.
Solitaire stepped back and addressed the crowd in the local language. “He wishes to be set free. What say you?”
The crowd erupted in chants of disapproval. “I’m sorry, Nathan, but there’s nothing I can do for you. It is forbidden for anyone to enter the cove. You did, and now you die.”
Solitaire began to walk away from him. The snake charmer moved around the bonfire and stopped in front of Harris, the coral snake still hoisted above his head. Solitaire continued walking. She looked back were, beyond the bonfire, she saw someone lurking in the trees. She watched for a moment and then turned and continued walking.
The snake toyed with Harris for a few moments before lunging out and biting his neck. Harris convulsed in pain as the venom began to course through his veins.
As Harris convulsed, the crowd watched as Solitaire levitated back up to the altar and disappeared into it. Their attention quickly turned back to Harris, who quickly lost the ability to breathe, as the venom began to paralyze the muscles responsible for respiration. The convulsing stopped and Harris’ chin fell to his chest. The crowd cheered.
Inside the altar, Tee Hee was waiting with one of his men. “Ms. Solitaire,” he began.
“You know I hate that name,” she corrected him.
“You men are all alike, needing to define a woman by her relationship to you.”
“Again, I’m sorry.”
She turned her attention to the other man. “There was a woman in the bushes watching the ritual. Go get her before she flees. Just throw her into the fire. We don’t need to go through the ritual process again.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said as he left.
She turned her attention back to Tee Hee. “Our friend, Mr. Harris, is, or I guess more accurately was, an agent of MI6. Double-oh status.”
“We should expect retaliation, then,” Tee Hee said.
“They’ll send their best agent. James Bond, Double-oh Seven. At least he’ll be their best agent for a little while longer. Facing mandatory retirement.”
“A geriatric then?” Tee Hee chuckled, exhibiting the trait that had earned him his nickname.
“No. Far from it. The mandatory retirement means he survived to forty-five. It means he’s good. Very good.”
She paused for a moment, reaching up to her head to remove the large, golden headpiece that served as part of the ritual garb. “Wait for everyone to leave and then gather up the body. We can’t further expose San Monique. It’s too important. We’ll take on Bond elsewhere.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Tee Hee said. He turned and left the altar.
She waited until she heard the sound of the crowd die down to nothing then exited the altar, making her way down the stone staircase to the penthouse in the side of the cliff.
A few minutes later, once she had made her way back to the penthouse, Simone heard a knock on the door. She opened it to find Tee Hee. "What is it now?"
"The woman you saw in the trees. We took care of her."
"You bothered me to tell me you did your job?"
"She had a cell phone. She was taking video."
"Did she send it to anyone?"
"I don't know. She threw it off the side of the cliff when we went to grab her."
"Thank you," Simone said, dismissing Tee Hee. She closed the door and retreated into the bedroom. She crawled into the bed and buried her face in the pillow and began to cry, as she often did following the rituals.