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[TheREAL008]

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1. Post Holiday Bloodbath.

It starts in Iowa.

New York senator Christie Hillman was leading in the polls for the next presidential election. She and her fellow opponents toured the state of Iowa mercilessly the week up to Christmas. Then straight afterward she would return to the state to drive her point on how she and only she would save the United States from it's "total, inevitable destruction." A rival senator, Bobby Odell was running as the first African American presidential hopeful criticized Hillman's policy as so left winged that it was close to communism. They were on the same party ticket and yet they argued like little children.

Unfortunately Senator Hillman, during a speech to blue collar americans over health care was assassinated. No one in attendance heard the shot, but after the senator fell to the ground, people stood and screamed, panicking to the doors to escape.

Senator Hillmnan was pronounced DOA as she was rushed to the hospital.
...................................................................................


Italy:
Two days later.

As President Luciano Armagoza was about to issue a decree to pull all of Italian forces out of Iraq and other parts of the middle east, the car he was riding in exploded at an intersection. Three other cars were damaged by the blast, the passengers and drivers of the automobiles severely damaged but not killed.

Investigators found fragments of a crudely made bomb placed inside the engine. No fingerprints were found but every mechanic within ten miles of the former leader's residence was questioned along with his staff. Officials were stumped as to who the murderer was and kept quiet to the media for the time being.
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England:
The next day.

Former PM Thomas Lancaster and his Bodyguard/best friend for over 30 years John Bonham were sitting in one of London's top five star restruants having a spelndid meal together. They brought their wives and children along with them.

About an hour into the frivolity Lancaster took a sip of his merlot. Three minutes later he lay face first into his chicken primavera. Bonham, having the same wine as his friend wondered if Thomas had suddenly fallen asleep when all of a sudden his own vision and hearing ceased. The remaining family members screamed in hysterics and the manager of the restruant called for an ambulance and the police.

The restruant closed immediately, with the entire kitchen staff arrested and held for questioning.
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Paris:
Earlier that day.

The middle aged man took a sip of his brandy as he told the police, in exact detail of the man floating in the Seine. His account was that he heard a thumping noise outside of his barge. It woke him up so he decided to check it out. He approached the right side of the barge where he thought he saw a clump of garbage floating lazily in the water. Then he squnted his eyes and saw a dark gray trenchcoat in the water, the man then went to grab a long handled hook to fish the coat out. However, when he saw the body that came with the coat he dropped the hook altogether, and went to the nearest payphone to call the police.


A few short hours later, just as Thomas Lancaster was assassinated the corpse was identified as Craig Banner. An MI6 agent on assignment from a personal request by M herself. Banner was found with a mercury bullet lodged in the center of his forehead.

As soon as M heard the news she made arrangements to have Banner's body transferred back to the UK. She had a suspicion about a certain person and apparently Banner had gotten to close to the truth.
..................................................................................

MI6 Headquarters:
Present day.

News of the assassinations hit the airwaves, and people panicked. M sat in her office on a cold December day, looking out her window and wondered just what it was that Banner had learned. More importantly, why hadn't he contacted her or Tanner?

Bill Tanner entering through her door interrupted her thoughts.

"Paris pathologists say that Banner had been dead 72 hours prior to discovery." Tanner began. "They'll be releasing the body any day now. I'll send an escort detail to Paris once word of approval is issued."

M only nodded and continuing to stare out to the London skyline.

"Something on your mind M?" Tanner asked.

M cast a glance at Tanner. "You think Craig found something about him?" She asked Bill.

Tanner shrugged. "It's possible." He concluded. "The mercury bullet clearly gives him away. But, as to where he's at now..."

M nodded. "You think he could be responsible for the others as well?"

"I wouldn't put it past him, although the bombings and the poison doesn't fit his standard M.O." Tanner confessed. "If it is him then the old boy has learned some new tricks."

"Indeed." M said sternly. "Where do the Americans stand?"

Tanner coughed, hoping she wouldn't have asked.

"Former President Hillman is requesting President Shrub for a full investigation from the FBI. Shrub is expected to turn down the request and to concentrate about asking congress for more funds for the war chest."

"Pompous ." M cited. "What of the Italians?"

"Not a word." Bill answered."Since the blast Italy has gone quiet."

"And our PM, Tanner?"

"He's with the families and will soon be with Scotland Yard until the evening.

M understood. Once the PM was through with them he would either go to MI5 or straight to her. Which meant that she'd better get a handle on her department.

"Status on the 00 department." M asked, sternly.

"Carrington still on assignment in Istanbul. Bond is in hospital. Astbury is at Blades even as we speak."

"Fetch him." M ordered. "I don't care if he's in a high stakes poker match or if he's eating prime rib in the restruant. Bring him here."

"Right away." Tanner replied and left M's office.

M went to her private bar and poured herself a scotch and soda. Whoever the bastard was now working for would now answer. She would be sending 008 straight into the mouth of hell against it's possible strongest ally.

M disliked using her agents as possible chess pieces. But she was pissed off and wanted Astbury to bring her back the assassin's head on a silver plate.

M took a sip of her drink and willed Michael Astbury to MI6 headquarters. Here was an assignment for him to get his frustration out over the last assignment. It would be difficult and possibly messy, but she trusted Michael to pull it off professionally and with a coolness unmatched by any of his co workers.

[TheREAL008]

2. Number 008.

Upon entering M's outer office, he noticed the young secretary situated in a small desk to the right of the door. She had shoulder length auburn curly hair and blue eyes. Michael assumed her height to be around 5'5, and possibly around 120 pounds or so. She wore a white blouse with a navy blue dress. Astbury found her beautiful.

Bill Tanner immediately followed Michael into M's office. He caught Astbury glancing at the secretary. As soon as Bill entered she looked at the two men.

"Ah, 008. Meet M's new secretary Jane Moneypenny." Tanner introduced.

Moneypenny rose and shook hands with Michael. "Pleased to finally meet you 008." She greeted.

Jane Moneypenny was all business Michael assumed. He kept here hand in his for a brief second or two before coming to his senses.

Michael cleared his throat. "Likewise."

"You're to go straight in, the both of you." Moneypenny informed. SHe gave them one last look then sat back down at her desk and went back to work.

Astbury opened the door to M's inner sanctum for Tanner to walk through. Once he did Michael followed. M was sitting at her desk, looking at Astbury directly with a cold gaze. As if judging him.

"Come in 008 and take a seat." M commanded. Once Michael did M flipped a switch on her desk and a medium sized flat panel screen appeared from the bookcase.

"Before we get down to your assignment Astbury, I need to know something." M started.

"Yes?" Michael asked politely.

M continued. "You told Dr. Sommes that after Nassau you regretted killing Katie Whittle so quickly. Your exact words were that you could have persuaded her to be more...helpful, correct?"

"Yes M." Astbury answered. After his first assignment as a Double O he wrote in his final report that he killed Whittle too hastily. M ordered Astbury to see Dr. Jennifer Sommes the staff psychologist.

"I've read your report and I quite agree with you." M commented. "Obviously you were angered that Katie was a blind. However 008, do you think you'll use more precaution next time around?"

Michael nodded. "I've had time to judge the situation from every angle conceivable. I defenately could have gotten more information out of her. I was impatient." He smiled. "Thanks for not putting me in the stocks for it."

M wasn't amused. "Moving on 008. What do you know about Li Chang Yin?"

"Pure myth." Astbury automatically answered. "Like King Arthur. No fingerprints or photos of the man. Allegedly a high priced assassin who uses mercury bullets or mercury infused bullets. Charges $20,000,000 per hit and usually offers his services to the highest bidder. For some reason he's listed on every country's top ten most wanted list however, as I've said before; He doesn't exist."

"You'd be wrong." M said. She pressed a button on her desk and photos of the previous assassinations: Senator Hillman, President Armagoza, Former PM Lancaster, and agent Banner appeared on the screen.

"I can't prove it-" M began. "-but I think he's responsible for the recent deaths of these people." She gave 008 a quick rundown of the events. "Before I was assigned to this position I told the officials in Whitehall and Parliament that Li Chang Yin would be stopped one way or another. Usually his M.O. is one of his famed mercury bullets to the head. However if he missed his target's head and hit someplace else on the victim, the mercury would flow into the veins and quickly poison said intended victim."

"So he ventures into other methods of execution?" Astbury asked.

"Yes." M answered. "Our analysts see that as a challenge. To see how many times he can mix it up before he's discovered."

"From 1980 up until 2005 he's suspected with the deaths of over thirty high profile people of influence." Tanner said. "Government officials,dignitaries of foreign states, military commanders. Et cetera."

M went on. "I asked Craig Banner personally to locate anything on Yin. photographs, fingerprints, contacts, anything. My guess is that he found something that he couldn't handle. Either he got too close to finding out Li Chang Yin or he found who his employers are. Either way he paid for it with his life and the trail so far goes cold."

"Except that we do have one slim lead." Tanner continued. "A retired agent known only as 'Ian'." Lives peacefully with his wife in Liverpool. I left his file in your office 008."

M pressed a button and the flat screen disappeared. Showing the bookcase once more.

"I want you to find Li Chang Yin." She began. "Find out who he's working for, who paid him for the assassinations. Above all else make damned sure he never takes on another so called assignment ever again."

"Understood." Michael began. "And if I discover his employers?"

"Use your own judgment 008. But make no mistake that I want Yin stopped at all costs. If you find out who he's working for either continue the assignment or report back to me."

"Or both." Tanner suggested.

"That's all 008. Make sure to stop by the Quartermaster before you leave tonight." M said.

Michael left the office with Tanner still inside. Moneypenny glanced at him and gave him a smile.

"Bad news?" She asked.

"The worst kind." Michael answered, walking to the door, opening it and giving Jane Moneypenny a kind smile.

"Hopefully nothing serious." She commented.

"She only wants me to find a man who isn't there." Astbury replied. Softly closing the door behind him.

[TheREAL008]

3. Fragments of Eight.

The Quartermaster's Laboratories were also an initiative that M restored along with the Double 0 section. In the eighties and nineties the branch served as mostly a factory for listening devices and fiber optic equipment. When the current M gave the order for the department to start to make specialized weapons once more for both field agents and Double 0 personnel, the Quatermaster felt a thrill to be back at what he and his department honestly did best.

Astbury took the only lift accessible to the underground levels of what was termed 'Q Branch'. After exiting the lift he was greeted by a gentleman of late middle age. His salt and pepper hair short and thinning at the top. His brown eyes looked upon Astbury with a happy tone. He was a bit shorter than Michael and wore his chestnut brown suit proudly.

"You must be 008. Call me Q." He greeted, extending his right hand for Astbury.

"Hullo." Michael replied. "M sent me."

"She just called." Q said. "Now pay attention 008, I've got a few things to show you."

Q walked ahead of Astbury and walked over to a table. On it appeared to be tiny fragments of two broken bullets.

"Right." Q began. "These pieces are on loan from Scotland Yard and the CIA. They are fragments of the mercury bullets that Li Chang Yin uses." He went over to the end of the table and picked up a clipboard. "One of said specialized bullets was retrived from an American diplomat who was assassinated in Berlin in 1985 and the other was taken out of the chest of a woman who was a liaison officer for the United Nations in 1993. There are a total of only eight fragments of this kind of bullet. France has two as well as Japan. However, attempts to inspect those fragments have proved fruitless."

Astbury picked up a fragment and inspected it, as Q flipped a page in the clipboard. The fragment looked slightly like a dumb dumb bullet, except for jagged and cracked pieces, plus the fragment was shorter than the standard dumb dumb round. He picked up the second piece and inspected it, comparing the two. The second one looked similar but Michael almost detected a small groove.

"What about the indentation on the second one?" He asked.

"Ah!" Q exclaimed, happily. "I was getting to that. CIA and Scotland Yard believe that Yin variates between using standard bullets made of mercury or he injects the mercury into a standard hallow round. However the caliber of the weapon is modified from the standard handgun. It's either a 6.98 or 7.56 caliber weapon."

"Why modified?" Michael asked.

"Because if you tried to fire one of those into a standard handgun-" Q pointed to one of the fragments. "-the gun would simply explode and instantly kill you. It's designed to shatter the instant it makes contact with it's intended target."

Q put the clipboard down and looked directly at Astbury.

"From what we know Li Chang Yin either aims for the heart or the head. He won't use a sniper rifle but prefers to be close to his target. Sometimes he'll kill people in the back of the neck or the throat just to make it messy."

"But what about poison and bombs?" Michael asked. "If he's such a great marksman why does he variate?"

Q shrugged his shoulders. "You'll have to ask Ian that 008. But from a weapons experts standpoint? Maybe he's looking to be more inventive? If you think about it, there's a billion ways of executing someone as you well know. Car bombs and poisons can get rid of someone quickly. What to say that he doesn't dwell in the art of the Chinese Cocktail? Assassins do switch it up from time to time 008, and from the way that Li Chang Yin has; I would say he's not to be taken lightly."

An assistant walked over to Q and told him he had a call. Q went over to the phone and put the receiver to his ear. He nodded a few times then said understood, he hung up the phone then walked back over to Astbury.

"That was M." Q replied. "She wants you to visit her once you've interviewed Ian. In the meantime we'll keep the fragments on hold and see if we can find any cluies as to a manufacturer. Good luck 008."

"Thank you Q." Michael replied, then made his way to the lift.

[TheREAL008]

3. History Lesson.

Behind the wheel of the Aston Martin DB9 Volante; Michael felt relaxed as he navigated through the traffic from London to Liverpool. He had traded automobiles because he felt the last car was too bulky for him. It handled well but at least now that his car was a convertible it would help relax Michael on the times when he wasn't on assignment.

'Ian' was the cover name for the agent who had inside knowledge of Li Chang Yin. As Michael drove he thought about the person he would be talking to. A short and stocky elderly man with a bald head and possibly a goatee or mustache. Someone who would want to talk about the "good old glory days" first before getting onto he subject at hand.

However when he finally got to the address that was given to him by Ms. Moneypenny he considered that the picture of the unknown man might have been wrong already. Astbury parked his car right in front of a large cottage with two small gardens growing on the left and right of the house. It was a white building with brown sidings, to give off the feel of a comfortable family summer home. The front door was painted chestnut. Michael slowly walked up the walkway, noting the clean cut grass and approaching the door Michael knocked.

The man who opened the door didn't appear to be middle aged. He appeared to be fifty-seven with brown clean cut hair, hazel eyes, square jaw and broad shouldered, his muscle tone in good shape, not many wrinkles on his face. He wore a grey long sleeved V necked shirt and black slacks with polished shoes. He gave Michael Astbury a suspicious look, then stepped halfway outside to check if anyone else was within earshot. Then deciding that it was all clear he turned his attention back to Michael.

"I take it-" Ian began. '-you're the fellow I'm supposed to see?"

Michael nodded, extending a hand to Ian. "Astbury. Michael Astbury."

Ian waved him inside. "Come on in and have a seat on the couch."

Michael did as he was told. Ian walked up the inner stairs for a moment then walked back down and into the kitchen. A few moments later he returned with two glasses of iced tea then took a seat across from Michael.

"I hope the drive over was comfortable." He greeted, giving one of the glasses to Michael."

"Thank you. It was alright."Michael replied.

Ian took a sip of his tea. "You look a bit young for this kind of work. How old? Thirty-Five?"

"A bit lower."

"Hmm. Thirty-two?"

"Minus two."

Ian whistled, nodding his head in disapproval. "The assassins get younger and younger. Give me standard field work anyday."

Michael smiled and took a sip of the tea. "What exactly can you tell me?"

"It's a good thing my wife is sleeping upstairs so she won't hear. She doesn't know you see." Ian explained.

"Understandable." Astbury agreed.

Ian sat back in the chair he was in. "I've been instructed to tell you everything I know about the man. So I'll go right ahead. To understand Li Chang Yin you have to look to his teacher first, the man who trained him; Llyich Ramirez Sanchez. You know the other name he goes by don't you?"

"Carlos The Jackal." Michael answered. "What of it?"

"Carlos was Yin's KGB handler."

Michael took a second to chew that over in his head. "No one can prove that Carlos was an agent for the KGB. How can you prove it?"

Ian continued. "Because Yin defected to the Russians from the Chinese. From what I was able to gather Li Chang Yin was going to be the usual standard Chinese spy. Patriotic, Faithful, diligent. He worked in the department in the Beijing Security Forces that dealt with traitors and misinformation to foreign countries. However someone in the KGB got their hooks into Yin and he defected with a parcel of China's nuclear secrets. Helping to give Russia a big hand in the stockpiling business in the 1970's and 80's."

"How do you think he got out of China?" Michael wondered.

"Well, reports are sketchy but I believe Yin shot his commanding officers, went to whatever documentation room Chinese security forces have, stole whatever secrets he could get his hands on, then made a quick escape to a small airfield for a quick flight to Moscow. Of course neither me or my sources can prove it, but it might be something like that. Seeing how China are so tight lipped. I've ever tried to speak to a former Russian agent who supposedly oversaw the defection but thus far he's declined an invitation to talk."

"And where do you come in?" Michael asked.

"Because I think I got a look at him when he was making one of his assassinations." Ian explained. "It was in 1975, Venice. I was working with Head of Station at the time and Yin had yet to make a name for himself. But after that day every intelligence service should have made him a priority. The head of Station was having dinner with the Venice chief of police. The discussion was the apprehension of Wolfgang Von Gruber. One of Hitler's last commanding officers. We were all at a restruant eating and talking shop. The next thing Head of Station and I notice was that the head of the police chief explode. People who did witness it panicked and then there was pandemonium. I tried to see where the shot was fired and to my luck I saw a face in the window of upper room across the street."

"What did the face look like?"

"Asian man, bald head, one eye was green and the other was white. He nodded in approval at what he had done then he vanished."

"Was the room inspected?"

"Of course. Nothing was found. No fingerprints or even anything remotely resembling anyone had been in that room in years."

"You give a description of the man to the police?"

Ian nodded. "Nothing there either. However afterward, after the autopsy when the bullet was removed was when it all began you see."

"What do you mean?"

Ian took a sip of his tea. "After Venice mercury bullets were appearing in the hearts or heads or various organs of many people. Scientists, diplomats, spies, what have you. The very night after the police chief was assassinated A letter appeared to Head of Section from Von Gruber via the police saying: Better Luck Next Time."

Astbury nodded and then finished his tea.

Ian went on. "Lisbon, Malta, Madrid, Paris, Cairo, Washington D.C., New York, Vancouver. He's been everywhere. I saw the same face...this time with short black hair and a soul patch in Bankok in 1985. But his eyes were the very same. He hit a UN Ambassador at..I believe it was twenty yards. After that I decided to do what I could to find out who the man was and bring him to justice. So I studied every assassination that was deemed mysterious. If it fitted Li Chang Yin then I credited him for it."

Ian rose from his seat and walked back upstairs. He returned downstairs after a few minutes with a brown folder and handed it to Michael.

"Unfortunately I could never find the bugger and I transfered to Scotland Yard. I kept working on the case as long as I could but I mostly met up with dead ends."

Michael quickly leafed thru the folder, he noticed police reports and maps and pictures of slain victims.

"You are dealing with possibly the greatest assassin of all time." Ian concluded. "He can appear from anywhere and vanish without a trace just as quickly. I wish you luck young man."

Michael stood, he and Ian walked to the front door.

"Thank you for your time." Michael said. They shook hands and Michael drove back to London in silence.
......................................................................................

MI6 Headquarters.
M's office, later.

"I want you at the range for a week." M commanded. "Get in all the shooting you can. I want you to be an excellent marksman 008. And with the coming snowstorm grounding all flights out of the country for a few days it'll also be a good chance for you to be better specialized not only with weapons training but with the profile on Yin."

Michael understood. "Yes Ma'am."

M continued. "Major Boothroyd from Q Branch gave me the analysis of the mercury bullets also. He concludes that they were made an ex Stasi member by name of Otto Krigeler. Now a high priced weapons designer living in Bilbao. I've got Station S watching him until you can get over there. Find out what he knows about Li Chang Yin, get anything and everything useful out of him.

"Understood." Michael replied.

"Most of all 008 be careful. Since Yin has gone to making bombs now take no chances. Don't come back a corpse."


Michael stood to leave. "I'll do my best M."

M watched Astbury open then close the door behind him. She wondered if she had done the right thing sending him after Yin? No one else was availible and no one else probably would have accepted the assignment. She cared about her agents but would never be vocal about it.

"Come back alive Michael." M whispered then returned to reading reports from various departments.

[TheREAL008]

A week later.

As Astbury left the plane and grabbed his luggage he wondered exactly what to do next. Get a room then onto the UK embassy where Station S was temporarily situated at? Or just head to Station S right away and worry about lodgings later?

The decision was made for him as a woman approached him. She was 5 ft 4 inches, a redhead with deep blue eyes. She wore a beige skirt and a cream blouse, and also a beige blazer. She walked up to Michael and extended her hand in greeting.

"Hullo 008." She whispered, then smiled. "I'm Jennifer Graves, head of Station S."

Michael shook her head. "How do you do?"

"Just fine, follow me please."

Michael followed her to a black Bentley with it's hood down. Jennifer brisked over to the driver's side and pressed the button to open the boot of the car. Michael took the cue and threw his luggage inside then quickly closed it shut. As he got inside the passenger seat and fastened his seat belt, Jennifer was already starting the car and had her foot on the gas pedal, giving Michael little time to close his door.

They practically flew out of the airport driveway, which was full of other cars and taxis. Jennifer slowed as soon as they were way out of airport traffic.

"Terribly sorry for the rush-" She began,. "-but traffic here can get very heavy."

"Nothing to worry about." Michael replied. "How long have you been out here?"

Jennifer smiled. "All my life. My father was Head of Station and I grew up into the business. My father spent half his life maintaining a perfectly tight and workable network here, so if there's anything you need don't hesitate to inform me."

Astbury was relived at the information. He wondered how well oiled Station S' network would be.

"Any word on Otto Krigler?" Astbury asked.

"A little. He mainly stays in his home during the day, but at night he usually goes out."

"Where to?"

Jennifer checked her rear-view mirror, then the one on her side. She switched lanes. "Mostly to dance clubs, he does go to the usual casino but that's only on Fridays. We've got some photos of him that we've recently obtained for you back at headquarters."

Michael thanked her. The rest of the drive was spent in silence.

[TheREAL008]

Chapter 4:
Killroy.

Langley, Virgina.

For the operative known only as 'Killroy.' the trip from Michigan to CIA headquarters was a hurried trip. It started at home, where he was watching The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly without thinking about his past mission in Iraq where he had to execute three leaders of a militant Islamic group. He was happy the job was over and he was at home, alive.

Dressed in jeans and a short-sleeved black shirt, he sat on his couch and drank the Samuel Adams in his hand. He loathed performing missions in war zones, they were too dangerous and highly risky. He requested 15% more of his usual fee for the mission. Usually deposited in his bank account and spread evenly to the accounts of his brothers and sister in the chance he didn't come home alive.

Finished with his first beer, he rose from his Laz-E Boy and walked into the kitchen. Not caring about the commercials that had interrupted his movie. He opened the fridge and got another beer and walked slowly back to the living room.

Before he got the chance to sit back down his only cell-phone rang, It was given to him by his controller the day he graduated CIA academy and was given the title of NOC, or Non-official-cover.

He quickly flipped it on and spoke into the receiver.

"Forget it." He said. "I'm on vacation."

"What? No hello? You've wrecked my day R---."

He recognized the voice, and mentally swore.

"Good afternoon DeVille. How is the family?"

"Doing great R---, just fine. How was Iraq?"

"Hot and dangerous, I'm damned lucky to be back at all. What's going on?"

"Blake is calling a few people in." DeVille answered. "Big meeting scheduled for tonight."

"Who else is coming?" Killroy asked.

"Just you from our department-" DeVille replied. "-and a few analysts. Something big has come up."

"What?" Killroy wondered.

"Can't say over the phone R---." DeVille answered. "However your ride should be along right about....now."

Immediately afterward Killroy heard the blaring of a car horn, he walked over to a windown at the front of his house and saw a black non discript limousine.

"You guys really do think of everything." Killroy replied, hanging up the phone. Shutting off the television, exiting his house and locking his front door.

Killroy got into the limo wand was brisked away to a private airfield, there he boarded a private jet that took him straight to Langley where he was rushed into another limousine and discreetly driven to CIA headquarters.
....................................................................................

CIA Headquarters.
Langley.

Killroy was situated in the room known as the White Room. It was soundproofed and had no windows, just a black rectangle in the centre of the wall everyone in the room was staring at. The room, and the furniture were brilliantly white and the florescent bulbs overhead painted a picture of some kind of limbo, where the souls of the dead were to wait for a meeting with some kind of higher power.

He adjusted the collars of his shirt. Also in the room were four people Killroy presumed to be the analysts. He named them persons A,B,C and D. No one spoke and had just kept short glances at each other.

The door opened and a man in his middle fifties entered the room. His hair was black, but beginning to gray at the sides. His glasses was silver and round. He stood at 6'1 and was alittle bit heavyset. He wore a brown suit with no tie, and walked quickly to the front of the five people.

"Good evening ladies and gents." Duncan Blake greeted in a deep southern accent. "I trust your arrival was comfortable and if not, then oh well."

Duncan Blake was the head of the agency's NOC department. Killroy wasn't comfortable with being at headquarters, it went against the rules for a NOC to come in from the field but if the other people didn't know who he and vice cersa, then he'd try to relax alittle.

One analyst spoke up. "Sir, what are we doing here?"

Blake smiled. "Ah! Good to see someone getting down to brass tax, this man-" Duncan dug into his coat pocket and produced a remote control, he pressed a button and instantly an image of Li Chang Yin appeared on the screen. "-is the agency's top priority. This photo was taken two days ago and the operative who took it died to get it to our hands. His name is Li Chang Yin and he's responsible for the recent assassinations."

One of the analysts laughed, two of them narrowed they're eyes at the picture. Killroy took in the details.

'So he does exist.' He thought to himself.

"I want this man found." Blake continued on. "You four will find his exact location; what he does and where he goes. And by the end of the week, I want Yin in the ground."

"Where do we even start?" Analyst B asked. She looked at her fellow team members, whom she didn't even recognize...in puzzlement. "I'm sure we've all heard of him but since his file is so scarce it would be like finding a single needle in an army of haystacks."

Blake rolled his eyes. "Yin does have connections. After this meeting you'll all be given a file as to suspected contacts. Find them and you'll probably find Yin."

Analyst A pointed his finger at Killroy. "And where does he come into this?"

"That's on a need to know basis and none of you need to know. Any more questions?"

The room was silent.

"Good. You four can go. However, don't get too personal with each other. You four are the best out of your individual sections. Refer to each other as your departments." Blake pointed to one analyst to the other, naming them. "Cryptology, Psychology, Photography, and Liaison."

The four left the room and Blake looked directly at Killroy.

"You on the other hand. I want you in Spain tonight. MI6 has sent an operative. His name is Astbury and he holds a 00 number in his service. It means he'd had to kill in the line of duty, you'll get a short dossier on him on the way to the airport. He has a lead who goes by the name of Otto Krigler; arms manufacturer. Follow Astbury and get to Otto before he does."

Killroy was confused. "We're trumping the Brits?"

Duncan Blake nodded. "We sure are boy. What they don't realize is that we funded Yin on a few of his assignments right up until the Iran Contra ordeal. Word gets out about that and The Agency gets disbanded and the FBI..of all people will now start doing the Intelligence gathering abroad."

"Understood." Killroy replied. He rose to leave.

"One more thing." Blake said as Killroy had his handle on the door. He turned to face Duncan.

"Astbury is also half American and one hell of a soldier. He was with the SEALs before he joined the UK's SAS. If he gets in your way, make it known that he picked the wrong side to join. We may be friends with the Brits, but it doesn't mean that we can't throw a wrench in their plans from time to time."

[TheREAL008]

Chapter 5:
Preperation.

Inside Station S, Astbury studied the photographs of Otto Kriegler. Jennifer reported the man's height to be 6'2 and weight around 170 pounds. His hair was gray and thinning at the front due to a receding hair line. Krigler's soul patch was a mix of gray and white hairs. His eyes were brown and his face pockmarked. The nose looked as if it had been broken many times, giving Michael the impression that Otto was possibly a brawler also.

In all the photographs, five in total. Krigler wore dark clothing, casual. Sometimes wore a beret and vintage sunglasses. Astbury memorized the details of Krigler and then handed the photos back to Jennifer.

Michael was seated in front of her desk while she was finishing a glass of brandy. Michael took the glass that he was offered and took a few sips.

"Now you know what he looks like." said Jennifer. "Think you can spot him out on your own?"

"Without question." Astbury replied. "Where will he be tonight?"

Jennifer picked up her phone that was situated to her left. She pressed a button on her dialpad.

"Hello Rose?" She began. "Where will Otto Krigler be tonight?"

There was a moment's silence as Jennifer Graves appeared to be listening to the person on the other end of the phone. Then Jennifer thanked the person known as Rose and hung up the phone.

"He'll be at the Vamprya." She replied. "It's a new club located here in downtown Bilbao. Supposedly Krigler has a friend who owns it. Man by the name of Klaus Werner."


"Hmm." Michael retorted. "I wonder how well connected to Krigler he really is."

"You'll find out tonight." Her phone rang again, she picked it up and after a few seconds replaced it on the cradle.

"As luck would have it-" She began, smiling. "-we've got you a room at The Seven. Which is located close to Club Vamprya. Room 322. The key will be waiting at the front desk."

Michael smiled, he was impressed with the way Station S was handling things. "My, you've certainly have things covered."

"Service with a smile." Jennifer teased. "Will there be anything else you need Mr. Astbury?"

Michael cast his gaze to the roof in thought.

"How about a fast car?"
................................................................................
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An hour later Michael was driving along the streets of Bilbao in a 2008 Lotus Elise SC, his luggage in the small backseat. The color of the car was cherry red and could go from 15 to 60 mph in under forty-five seconds. As to how Station S got ahold of this automobile was anyone's guess. However when Jennifer told Michael about the Lotus' performance capabilities, he deduced that the engine was souped up.

The car handled very well, Michael kept it in his mind to treat the car with special care since it was on loan to him.

He found the hotel well enough. Michael walked through the sliding glass doors of The Seven and up to the front desk where a beautiful girl handed him his room key.

"Everything has been paid for you in advance sir. " The desk girl informed Astbury. "Please enjoy your stay."

Michael, with room key in pocket retrieved his suitcase and reentered the hotel and made his way to the lift. He didn't need to press a button as a family got out of the elevator and moved around him and out of the hotel. Michael rode the elevator to the third floor and located room 322 in the middle of the hallway to the right side.

The room was a bit expansive. Upon entering Michael was greeted with a view of a small living room, to his right a small refrigerator under a small kitchen sink. To the right of that was a microwave and a coffee-pot.

The bedroom was separated by a door. Michael opened it and found the usual accommodations. Bed that would probably be rough to sleep on, another sink placed to the left of the bathroom and shower. And the various little soaps and shampoos placed on the sink.

Michael checked his watch, it was nearing close to dinnertime and he wondered what restruants were around. He quickly unpacked his suitcase and took a quick hot shower, redressed in his clothes and headed out to dinner.

Astbury chose a nearby seafood place called Bonefish. He ordered a grilled fillet of salmon, grilled and buttered mixed vegetables and white wine. During the meal Michael made a mental plan of the operation for tonight.

He would begin by finding Krigler directly. If he had to go through his friend to do so then so be it. Michael was determined to get answers from Otto by hook or by crook if needs be. Krigler would know the significance of the four victims and what tied them together.

When a waitress approached him Michael ordered coffee and some pie. He'd stay in the restruant a few minutes more than take a walk around the area to get his bearings and if possible, to map out an emergency escape route in case things went bad.

[TheREAL008]

Chapter 6
Face to Face.

Astbury had been inside Club Valkyre for an hour and a half. He sat by the bar and glanced at the people inside it's walls. They were young people in their early to mid 20's dancing or drinking and having a good time. The whole scene reminded Michael of a rave party; with the black lighting and strobe lights. People in florescent paint dancing their cares away.

Otto Krigler sat in a large booth seven feet away from Astbury. He was accompanied by two built men who Michael took as bodyguards and three women. The bartender noticed Michael staring at Krigler and his company.

"Forget it." She said in spanish, Michael fixed his attention to the bartender SHe was a good looking woman with curly blond hair and hazel eyes. She had a flat belly and curvaceous hips. Her breasts looked as if they wanted to break free from the red and purple corset she was wearing. Suddenly Michael found himself wishing he wasn't on assignment.

"Forget what?" Michael asked.

She nodded her head to the direction of the large booth, at the same time giving Astbury a chilled glass of Absolut Orange.

"The man at that table always surrounds himself with women. If you're intending to steal any of them, his bodyguards would stop you."

Michael smiled at her. "That so?"

"Yup. And he comes here every so often, good friends with the owner." She said, pointing upstairs.

Before Michael had entered the club, he scouted the area of the building and noted a set of stairs leading to a entrance at the end of the right side of the club. He guessed it led to the owner's office. Then he got an idea, he'd break into the office and have the owner page Otto so Michael and he could have a little chat.

The bartender left Michael for a moment to tend to other customers. Michael was about to leave. As he paid for his drink and left his stool something new and odd occurred to him. A new woman came tot he table. She stood at about 5'7 and weighed around 100 pounds. She wore long chestnut brown hair and had brown eyes. Her skin was tanned. She wore a long goth dress with white shoes. She had a cosmopolitan in her hands.

And as she approached the table she gave Michael Astbury a customary look, winked her left eye at him and smiled.

Michael swore. Whoever she was, she recognized him. He kept the table in his line of sight but backed away from the bar and into a shadowy corner of the club, something else was happening here. He noted her details: the eyes, the adorable face, the way her body seemed to slither as she walked. He wondered if he should go directly to Station S right now and get a name to the luscious body or see where things would go?

The decision was made for him. The woman...whoever she was...stopped at the table, one of the bodyguards who was sitting next to Otto got up from his spot and gave it to the woman. Michael noted words being spoken between her and Krigler. He also noted her hands unbuttoning Otto's shirt and her right hand exploring his chest. Otto kissed her passionately, sliding his tongue into her mouth. Her hand removed itself from Otto's chest and it slid down to his midsection and presumably, to his groin.

Then without warning the contact was broken and everyone slid out of the table. They all joined hands and headed for the front doors of the club. Michael took they're cue and slowly followed, just in time to watch them all enter the back of a stretch Hummer.

Astbury could almost have laughed at the absurdity. He admired the avant guard way Krigler lived up to the image of a senior playboy. Michael shrugged off the image of the stretch Hummer and ran to the Lotus Elise. He quickly started up the engine and followed the large vehicle.

He kept at a safe distance and soon enough the Hummer stopped at a large cottage.
It was a three story house and close to the sea, plenty of trees shaded the place. Michael got a good look at the place and then drove the Lotus down the road close by. He parked it by another group of cars, probably teenagers having fun somewhere nearby. Michael returned to the house and began the wait. He checked his watch and decided to wait an hour before he would sneak inside the premises and find Otto Krigler.