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Prolouge
Moscow, Russia 1989
Bond could see them, but the pepper spray made his sight blurry. To his left, Keptor Zellor. To his right, Valentin Zukovsky. Both men plump in stature, so Bond had a hard time figuring out who was who. One bullet in his gun as he lay on the floor, watching as the two men fight. "One shot," Bond thinks to himself. "One chance to kill Zellor once and for all. If only I could see better." In a rushed action, Bond shoots his gun, in hopes to kill the man he's been chasing. No. The shot was fired at the wrong man. He could see one of them running away, but with his bad vision, could not make out who it was. As the one ran, the other fell to the floor. Bond regained his sight and, to his horror, sees Valentin on the ground grabbing his knee. "You fool!" Valentin yells. "You've shot me in the knee! I almost had him! Damn! Damn!" Bond could still hear the sound of Valentin's cussing as he stood next to the casket in which his friend lay, ten years later.
Chapter 1
The Guessing Game Called Life
Instructed by her supireors, M had to choose one agent to act as a pallbearer at Valentin Zukovsky's funeral. Without hesitation, she picked Bond. Bond had worked with Valentin on several occasions, and M knew he would be honored to do so. As James carried the casket, he found himself in an entanglement of memories he had shared with Valentin over the years. Next to Bond stood Antonio Zukovsky, Valentin's beloved brother. A CIA agent, Antonio had worked with another allie of Mi6, Felix Leiter. Leiter was at the funeral, but do to an injury while in the field, was left without legs and unable to walk. Behind Bond was Antonio's 21 year old son, Hector. A college grad with a degree in geology, Hector was very close with his uncle. The other three men were unfamiliar to Bond. As they layed the casket of Valentin before the congregation of many who had come to mourn his death, Bond was instructed to open the door of the casket. As he did so, he could see Valentin laying there, lifeless. It sent shivers down his spine, but Bond shook it off and took his spot next to M in the front bench of the church. To his left was M and to his right was Valentin's wife Georgina. As Bond walked into the pew, Georgina gave him a hug to symbolyze their outstanding friendship through all of her hardships.
Though a kind gesture, Bond did not enjoy her hugging him. It's not that he did not find her attractive, or that he did not love her. It was only because he had never told them about the inccident. James and Valentin made a vow of silence on that cold day in Moscow. They promised they would never speak of it. Ever. But as Georgina started to pull away, Bond began to feel guilty about never telling her that he was the one who shot Valentin in the knee. Bond thought that she might not take it personally, seeing as how he had to do his job, and that he did not shoot Valentin on purpose. But there was still the possibility that he could loose his friendship with her.
As the priest spoke, Bond's mind began to wander. He thought about this and that. Life and death. Friendships and lost friendships. He thought about the day Valentin was killed. He could still see Elektra King, daughter of a wealthy businessman, shooting Valentin through a naval hat. He could hear the shot. He could see Valentin fall. He could see Elektra run. Before Bond knew it, the congregation was going up to pay their respects to the lifeless body of Valentin. As Bond went up, however, he became cold, and thought of only one thing. Revenge.
As Bond went to his car, Georgina came up behind him. "Hello, James," she said to him with a smile. She wore a black veil over her face, so James could not see if she was crying. "Thank you so much for doing this today. Valentin would have wanted you to be here."
"We were quite good friends," Bond said, with a small frown. "He was quite the character. Georgina, theres something I have to tell you." Bond's knees began to shake. He had been on numerous life threatening missions, but to tell her this was one of the hardest things to do. "When I was on a miss..."
"Auntie!" exclaimed Hector as he neared his own car. "Are you coming?"
"Yes. Here I come," she said to him. "I'm sorry James, I must go." she embraced him again. "Thank you so much."
"Of course," replied Bond. "Of course." They pulled away from each other. Hector waved to James and James gave a slight nod of the head. Hector entered his car, as did Georgina. They drove off and, before he knew it, Bond stood alone in front of the church.
Chapter 2
A Change In Plans
Bond boarded his plane headed for England. It was a private plane sent by the Prime Minister. It was a long and sleek black jet with a bar and smoking area. As Bond got comfortable, the plane went airborne, and a stewardess came out and asked Bond if he would like a drink. "Vodka martini, shaken not stirred."
"Right away sir." Send the stewardess as she walked away. Bond snuck a look at her backside and smiled to himself. The stewardess returned and told Bond that he had a phone call. Bond got up and answered the phone. "Bond here." he said.
"007, this is M. I have to change your flightplan. The President of the United States has a conflict and needs your help. Q has sent your equipment and booked your hotel room. Your staying at the Hilton in Washinton D.C. and will meet with the president tomorrow. He expects you there at 9:00 AM so rest up. Best of luck 007." she hung up. Bond put down the phone, picked up his drink, returned to his seat, and waited. The occasional drink made the ride go a lot quicker and James found himself landing at Reagan National Airport in a short period of time. He must have dozed off because when he looked out the window, the sun had set and the landing strips lights reflected off of the rain covered strip of cement.
The airport accomodated him nicely with an escort to the limo that had been sent ahead for him. The escort then handed him an envelope with the president's seal on it. It read:
To: James Bond
From: President Mccain
Dear Mr. Bond,
Thank you for coming to the U.S. I'm in a bit of a rut and need your help. There is a terrorist organization that has made its way into the U.S. Though we've tried, we have never been able to infaltrate the terrorist's compound. Please see me tomorrow and 9:00 AM. I will give you more information about the group then.
Sincerely,
President Mccain
Bond folded the note up, placed it into the envelope, and placed the envelope into his breast pocket. The limo stopped at the Hilton and Bond got out with his bags and entered the hotel.
"Hello sir, hoow may I help you?" said the man at the front desk. He sported a black suit and was bald on top. Bond thought he looked familiar but shrugged it off and answered.
"The name's Bond, James Bond. I was told that I have a room reserved for me."
"Ah yes, Mr. Bond. President Mccain insisitted that you stayed in his suite. Top floor, first door on the left," the man said. He handed Bond the key.
"Thank you," replied Bond as he took the key. At that, the man snapped his fingers and a bellhop came rushing over with his cart.
"Thanks. but I think I can handle it," said Bond.
"We insist, sir," replied the man. "Sam, take Mr. Bond's luggage to President Mccain's suite."
"Right away, sir," Sam said as he winked at the man. The man winked back. Bond caught this action and, at first, thought of them to be queer, and then he thought of them to be plotting something. WIth great caution, Bond followed Sam to the elevator. He could see the outline of a gun protruding from Sam's pocket. When he saw this he smiled to himself. "Old Sam had better enjoy his last ride." he thought to himself.
As they reached the top floor, and the door opened, they exited. Sam went first. He looked up and down the corridors. Not a soul. He reched into his pocket and pulled out his gun. "Alright Mr Bond. You first. And no funny business." Bond put his hands in the air and walked out of the elevator. "What are you doing?" barked Sam abruptly. "Get your hands down, you fool." When Sam called him a fool, Bond recalled Valentin. He shuttered and put his hands down. He and Sam walked to the door, with Sam pulling the cart behind Bond. "Move," Sam said and he opened the door. "Get in there!" Sam sounded meaner as they continued. Sam closed the door when they both had entered the room. "Alright Bond, get on the bed," Sam continued to bark.
"Can't we just discuss this?" Bond said.
"No," Sam replied. "Mr. Zellor said to kill you and--"
"Zellor?" Bond interrupted. "Keptor Zellor?"
"Damn!" said Sam. "I've said to much."
At that, Bond lunged at Sam. Sam fell onto the cart. Bond punched Sam numerous times, and stole his gun. He pointed it right at Sam, and Sam kicked it from Bond's hands. They both went for it, and the cart went flying from under Sam. It rolled straight across the room. The two men had their hands on the gun and finally Bond got complete control of it. Sam stepped back with his hands in the air. "Like you said, let's discuss this." Sam said.
"It's too late, you had your chance." Bond said. He kicked Sam and he fell back onto the cart. The cart went flying out the window along with Sam. Bond's luggage had thankfully already come off the cart. "It seems he's fallen for me," Bond said as he straightened his tie. "Now to get a new room and find out what the man at the front desk knows." He walked off.
Chapter 3
A Sleepless Night
Bond went to the elevator. A crowd had gathered around the door of his room by the time he got there. He looked at them. Most of them sported high socks with shorts on. Tourists, no doubt. The doors closed after he pushed the lobby button. The ride seemed to go quicker on the way down. He reached the bottom and the doors opened.There was not a single person in the lobby. A camera dome could be seen from the desk, so Bond knew to take precautions. He thought of using his laser watch to block out the camera's sight. No. It wouldn't work. The man from earlier was still there, but he was the only one. "Hello," Bond said as he reached the desk. The man looked up at him and jumped a bit. He was expecting Sam to come back with the good news of Bond's death, but no.
"Uhhhh...hello," he said with a shake in his voice. "What can I help you with?"
"There is a broken window in my room," Bond said. "May I have a new room?"
The man got a stern look on his face. He figured Bond pushed Sam out the window. "We have no more rooms available," the man replied. "You'll just have to leave."
Bond had to think of some way to get the man out of the camera's view. He leaned closer to the man. "Now listen here," he said in a whisper. "I don't know who you are, but..." he stopped. He got close enough to the man to point of which he could identify him. Bond had seen him on television. Not on a show anyone wants to be on, though. Bond had seen him on CNN. There had been searches through numerous wooded areas of America for him, and now Bond knew who the terrorist was. The terrorist the President needed to speak with him about. It was Victor Schmelnorf, head of a Russian terrorist group.
"What?" Victor said. He began to sweat. He knew Bond knew who he was.
"Victor," Bond said, still whispering. Victor took a deep breath, followed by a gulp. He was nervous. "Victor, I suggest you come with me."
"No, Mr Bond!" Victor raised his voice. "I will not. I finally made it into this God forsaken country. I'm not backing out now!" He began to run. Bond was chasing after him. The ran out of the hotel's doors and into the street. They ran down and down and down until they reached Embassy Row. They continued running. Victor got out a gun, but could not turn around to shoot it. Bond reached for his. Nothing. It was still in his hotel room. "Damn," he thought. "What will I do now." He heard sirens. The police came flying around the corner. The two men ran for the sidewalk. Bond anticipated them to stop and arrest him and Victor, but they just kept on going.
Victor began to slow down. He grew tired. He stopped and dropped to the ground. Bond ran up to him. Victor looked as if he were going to die. His gun lay next to him, and Bond picked it up. He picked up Victor as well, but only took a few steps before putting him back down. Victor was heavy and since Bond was so tired, he had no chance of carrying him. Bond called for a taxi. Victor had passed out by now, so Bond found it easier to take him. "Take me to the nearest hospital," Bond told the taxi driver. "Ci, senor." Bond rolled his eyes.
They reached the hospital and Bond payed the taxi driver. "Grasias," Bond said.
"Your welcome," the cab driver replied. Bond paused for a moment and then continued to remove Victor from the car. Victor was a bit unstable and could not walk. Bond called for a wheelchair, and one was brought right away. They then continued on to the emergency room. Bond signed in and they waited. Victor was shaking. All the running must have done something to him. Bond looked at a magazine. It was Time. The cover had a picture of Victor when he still had his beard and moustache and hair on it. The caption read: "The Search Is On". Bond lookd at Victor again. He had his eyes closed and he was mumbling a Russian prayer. He was still shaking. Bond looked at him up and down and noticed something. Blood. There was blood on Victor's shirt. Bond have a slight gasp. Victor had been shot while they were out. He looked at the gun he picked up. It was not Victor's. Victor's wasn't silenced. This one was. He went to the desk with Victor and asked for a towel. They gave it to him and he returned to his seat. He gave it to Victor and told him to apply pressure to it. It was then that Bond thought. He thought: "What am I doing? I'm helping a terrorist live. Ugh. What should I do? I can't just let him die. I've got to find out why he was trying to kill me." He turned to Victor. "Victor," Bond said quietly. "Why?"
"Leave me alone," Victor responded with a snap. "I am praying."
"Victor, just tell me one thing. Sam told me that he was working with Zellor. Are you working for Zellor, too?"
Victor did not respond. He just gave Bond a slight glance.
"You know Victor, I could just leave you to die. I could leave in a river somewhere, dead."
Victor shuttered. "What do you want to know?"
"Where is Zellor?"
"Find him yourself. I don't need to help you."
"Dammit Victor!"
"Here is a clue," Victor said. "He is in a hole with a "T". He's at the very bottom of the hole."
Bond thought about it. A hole with a "T"? It made no sense.
"Miss," Bond said to the nurse. "Take us off the list. We're leaving."
"What was the name?" she asked.
"Bond, James Bond."
Bond rolled Victor out of the hospital and onto the sidewalk. They went down by the Potomac. Victor gasped. He knew what was going to happen. "Please, Mr. Bond," he said.
"I'm sorry, but this has to happen. You're a notorious terrorist. I can't let you free." Bond said and he pushed the wheel chair into the Potomac. "Nooooo!" Victor rolled in and the chair was wisked away by the river.