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The Wrong Name
By MHazard
There are only three decent ways to drink rum and James Bond was sick of all of them. You can make rum punch, mix a rum and coke or cut it with water like the locals. With the exception of that execrable concoction, the Mojito, all rum drinks were just variations and he was sick of them.
There was, unfortunately, little else to do in Barbados while waiting for Simmons to arrive. While the water was clear, the diving was less than adventurous and the thrill of "swimming wiff de turtles" had long passed. He ordered a Banks from the poolside bar and cursed M again for sending him on this damnable assignment.
"You're to intercept a man named Simmons, Roger Simmons. He's some sort of American scientist. Apparently, he's been suggesting that he can deliver bomb quality enriched uranium. The technical section tells me that any idiot can figure out how to build an atomic bomb these days. The problem is acquiring the raw materials. This man Simmons claims he can provide the key ingredient."
"What do I do once I find him?"
M knocked his pipe out into the old shell casing that served as an ashtray. "You're to persuade him to accompany you back to London where he'll be debriefed and you're to keep him safe in transit".
"What am I allowed to offer him?"
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