Bond at 80

 

A Saturn Herald Short Story by Penny Nair Price.

Dive into this fun piece about one of the world’s greatest fictional heroes and enjoy.

 Bond – at 80 – Seven still goes the distance.  

Seven opened one eye and read the temperature gauge on his bedside table. 12 – typical autumn.  He pressed the blind-opening button which gave him a view of trees in a  splendour of multicoloured rather sober hues, with rolling hills in the background.  June Blossom, turning over to avoid the light, ran her left toe up and down his surprisingly toned calves and asked, “Do we really need to get up?”  His long-term girlfriend was quite whacked.  “Well, since it’s eleven o’clock and I’ve got a lot of emails to send to thank people for my 80^th birthday presents, yes, I do,  but I can get Tobias to bring you a cup of mint tea and you can lie in.”  He kissed her left cheek and rose from the bed, lowering the blinds again. 

 No longer a double O, Bond when not being called Bond, – very rarely these days –  was now affectionately known as Seven.  He lived a busy life at 80 – he gave advice on espionage, surveillance, security and day to day matters of the secret service and could claim as his own the idea  of the invention of a recording and transmitting device inserted as a dental implant which meant that a spy or enemy of the ‘powers that be’ could detect the wearer’s actions, speeches and movements over long distances.  The only difficult part was knowing when the person visited the dentist and getting the dentist to fit the device; he was working on a paper to help give dentists some reassurance that they were doing the right thing, or, secondarily, not even letting the dentist know, but  only the intermediary services who manufactured the implant.  As security matters went, a dentist could possibly be in the ‘corner’ of his patient depending for example on ethnic background and religion.

 A much more sophisticated device was …… the phone rang out loud and clear as Seven sipped his multi-fruit smoothie which Tobias had made for him, complete with a small selection of vitamins, and followed by poached egg on rye bread, together with fresh mint tea – mint, simply mint. Wonderful. The diet his Doctor had him on improved his sense of well being enormously.

 “Seven speaking.”

 “ Hello it’s the office in London. Seven, its about your bullet idea.”

 “Aha, I thought it might be.”

 “We’re arranging a meeting with some plastic surgeons and we want you to be there.”

 “Where?”

 “Well, we’ve decided it is your choice.  They can either come over to your pad by helicopter or you can make a trip to the office in London.  I can assure you if they came to you they wouldn’t know where on earth they were within 100 miles!”

 “Are all these plazzy Drs security checked?  We don’t want a leak to a superpower – the Chinese would snap it up for example…or maybe their neighbours, the Afghans….”

 “We have researched the credentials of the plastic surgeons we want to consult.  They are all clean.”

 “OK. Cool.  Well I am quite busy at the moment.  Bring them to my place and we’ll film them.”

 “Film them?”

 “Aha.  You don’t know that my Dr films all the activities in my apartment 24/7?  He then analyses me and we go through various footages together.  You know I have a cleaner, a gardener,  a butler, a secretary,  a masseuse, and June Blossom – my long term girlfriend, and the cameras roll in case of anything untoward happening here as well as for me to be analysed. I am only telling you this because you seem to lack the knowledge.”

 “Analysed?”

 “Goodness, what grade are you?  I think you should know these things go on.  I am down for Cryonics in a few years’ time and meanwhile I want to be in the best health possible…”

 “Oh… excuse me Sir, I will set up a meeting.  When can I get back to you?”

 “Speak to my secretary – you seconded her here – Miss Stella Cent – I’ll send you her number.  I will advise her to expect your call.  Incidentally you never gave me your name.”

 “Smith.  Harry Smith.  I’m standing in for M’s p/a Jeremy Wesson.  He seems to have gone down with a nasty bug.”

 “How is M?”

 “Well, Sir when he got your idea, he was very excited.  He misses you.  If appropriate call him, could you Sir?  And about the Cryonics.  At a later date, preferably in London we’d like to meet you to discuss the programme for you.  Freezing people and bringing them back to life is still in its infancy, and any success with it is  fairly hush hush.”

 “Smith do tell me things I don’t know.  There’s a good man. I look forward to a meeting on that. Good man.  Bye.”

 Tobias took Seven’s plate and glass, and wiped the dining table.  It was nearly time for Seven’s work out, and then to do his duty and thank people for the party and presents.

 Seven kept his aches and pains a secret.  They were well under control with pills and tonics and a regular daily work out, a massage  and a walk, not to mention June Blossom being a demanding sexual partner.  He buried feelings of pain ultra deep in his psyche – most double agents have to learn to live with pain without a moment’s notice.  He was well experienced, and if he ever had a faraway look in his eyes, he always told Blossom he was thinking of passionate nights with her, not nursing the twinges of an old wound reminding him of his former life.

 80! 80! 80!  As he trod the boards on his walking machine, he whispered under his breath “you’re only as old as you feel, you’re only as old as you feel, you’re only as old as you feel”.  God he needed a whisky.  It was only noon, and his whole being yearned for an alcoholic fix.  He felt a sudden strain in his calf.  An old bullet wound that healed twenty years ago – on that mission in Russia. Curses!

 

“I need to pump some iron” he said to the camera. As he took a couple of dumbbells and energetically  worked out with them,  he thought of Honey Ryder, (Dr No)  and then Pussy Galore (Goldfinger). His doctor knew well that Bond had a wandering mind where women were concerned, but June Blossom could certainly push a lot of buttons…. She could go into the field at any time with not only her highly sophisticated seductive techniques but also her training as an agent, and her four impeccably spoken languages..  He worried about Blossom.  What would happen to her when he was gone?  She promised him endlessly that she would be fine, but she could never stop a tear or two trickling down her cheek whenever they talked about it. It was so wonderful how they had met and clicked back in London at the MI5 cocktail do.  Chemistry was a many splendoured thing.  He enjoyed going to the indoor shooting range with Blossom.  The little contests were great fun. But to go running with her was even better -…suddenly he wanted her. He quit the gym and ascended towards the bedroom.

 The phone went on his way.   He hadn’t got his earpiece and lunged for the handset in the reception area, just catching a falling plant which he had misplaced.

 “Seven speaking.”

 “00Seven…?”

 “M?  It can only be you…how long have I been out of the field?”

 “You’re back in.  No questions asked.”

 “Well, impossible is not a word in my vocabulary but I’m tempted to use it now…”

 “We need you in the London office 00Seven.  Tomorrow morning, 11 am.  As a sweetener for your visit, my predecessor’s daughter who is training with us will be there to take in the theatre and a drinks party at the Ambassador’s residence with you later.  I will be sending a helicopter over to arrive at 9 am tomorrow. Goodbye.”

 Emma – dearly departed – his favourite M – and the daughter whom he had decided not to stay in close touch with.  He felt tears stinging in his eyes, then remembered now – and June Blossom slumbering upstairs and took them two at a time and snuck under the duvet planting kisses hastily and hungrily all over her body.  He knew she loved it.  Her moaning sighs filled him with passion – and time until their  meal together later, was spent under the covers. As for the Ambassador’s residence tomorrow – he knew too well not to ask which one, and it was an intriguing thought occupying his mind.

 “Must you go?  Do you trust me with Tobias?”

 “Blossom darling.  I have to go.  Our own livelihood depends on it.  You know all this luxury doesn’t come cheap and it comes from them….”

 Bond ruminated on his psyche as he heard himself getting soft in his old age.

 “I’ll be back and I’ll bring you something nice to wear for our next party.  Will it be diamonds, rubies, or emeralds?”

 “I want something from that fabulabulous shop in Piccadilly – you choose sweetness, I trust your taste implicity.”

 Later that day, after a run by the sea, they sat down and dined on sea bass with seaweed and spinach sprinkled with roasted walnuts, and dauphinoise potatoes, followed by raspberry and pomegranate sorbet, washed down with a pudding wine.  Fresh orange juice accompanied the main course.

 Blossom, wearing her highest high heels knew the score. As Tobias served coffee by the sofa, she did a shimmy in the firelight,  right around the cocktail bar area teasingly caressing each bottle, and then wrapping her hand round the 12 year old Chivas Regal Whisky which she then cradled to her breast moving towards the sofa.

 “Am I right or am I right?”

 “You could say it’s a cigar moment, darling.  Tobias – bring me a Cuban, two tumblers and plenty of ice, not fogetting the ashtray.  On second thoughts, forget the ice, I prefer Scotch Whisky as nature intended.”

 Tobias didn’t say a word.  He had a secondary role in life, but the secret service side of him was totally and utterly separate.  The cigar, tumblers and ashtray appeared almost instantaneously.

 Blossom knew better than to reprimand Seven for his smoking habits.  She simply wrapped herself around him and enjoyed the rest of the day. 

 Until the phone rang – again.

 “Mr Bond?  Its Agent Cooper about the insider trader training.  I was hoping to speak to your secretary, Stella Cent about my first day  with you.”

 Too much information in one day?  Not for Seven.                                                 

 “Stella is away for three days, training herself as a matter of synchronicity.  If you can come next Thursday at 11, I’ll be expecting you.  Oh, and don’t forget…..use a rental car, the early ferry and carry your false papers.  Don’t dress up – it would attract the wrong type of interest.  My partner, June Blossom, will give you some shooting practice in my underground  range after our meeting,  then you can dine with us, stay the night, and leave on the early ferry.  Would that suit you Cooper?”

 “Mr Bond.  I look forward to it.  Do you know where I can rent a car?”

 “Cooper – spare me the question.  Organise it – or get one of your minions to do so.  Remember – false name.”

 Seven rolled his eyes.  It would never be easy enough for him to say “You just can’t get the staff”, so he didn’t.

 PART TWO OF BOND AT 80.

 “I have the highest respect for your late mother.  Sometimes we were so close, though we were thousands of miles apart, but she would be there in my earpiece and in my humble hhhm opinion, she never made a mistake, even when she told our current Moneypenny to hazard a shot at my adversary on the top of a moving train. I feel she was the ultimate M, but keep that between you and me.”

 “From a distance of more than 40 metres?  I’ll never forgive my mother for that.” 

 “ Well, we have a right not to forgive certain things, but I had a hell of a good time being dead in Turkey.”

 “There’s sadness in your eyes.”

 Bond stifled a laugh out loud.

 Macey M swirled her champagne around in the flute and took a deep drink of it staring intensely at Seven. Her green eyes held menace and passion in equal proportions, and yet somehow a lack of intelligence. She stared so intensely he had to look away.”

 “Spare me the sentiment if you’ll forgive me for saying so,  After the meeting, what’s on the agenda for us?”

 “We’ve a trip to the theatre where we’ll pick up our company – in the box.  Then it is on to the Ambassador’s residence.  It’s not a party – it’s private drinks and maybe more.  Then you have to get into the embassy next door and take out “Madagascar”.  Not only has he been involved in organising people to buy shares in companies that don’t exist leaving thousands  in complete poverty but he’s also……killed people who complained and he’s also…..”

 Her voice drifted into a pregnant pause.

 “He’s also?”

 “Oh I can’t say.  M will tell you.  I’ll see you outside M’s office at six.”

 “Ok.  Are you going to be involved in taking out this character?”

 “Oh no.  I’m just there to make you look normal, Bond.”

 He knew then why her eyes didn’t register “intelligent”.  Not like mother, not like daughter.

 The theatre was hot and stuffy.  The play was too clever.  Modern stuff. No depth.

Bond yawned and Macey noticed.  The Kenyan Ambassador and his wife were too polite to pay very much attention to  the odd couple with them – “Mr and Mrs Henry”.  Both Bond and Macey noticed the lady ambassador’s  jewels – they were remarkable in their preponderance, including a necklace suspended and glittering  round her large bosom.

 In the basement of the Kenyan Embassy the four of them enjoyed a meal and were hand- fed by the servants as was the Kenyan custom.  Bond made his excuses.  He explained that he needed to make a call outside to get a good reception and the trap was set.  Following M’s instructions from earlier in the day and carrying a small map on his phone with a Walther PPK with a silencer in a shoulder holster , he went upstairs and found the communicating door to the next embassy in the cloakroom as he had been told to do.  Some of the embassies had communicating doors which were only known to a select few.  They were there so that occupants of the embassies  could escape if they needed to at any time.

 But there was a problem.  The embassy next door was guarded by security.  Oh – so that was why the previous agent had failed on his mission and – “disappeared”.  Either he had gone over to their side or he was, as Seven had been told “missing presumed dead”.

 At 80, Bond told himself it was do or die.  God!  Didn’t they have anyone else in the field or had they chosen him because they didn’t care a damn whether he lived or died?  He took several deep breaths and thinking of Blossom, timed himself to come into the embassy next door with the coolness of a dislocated party guest. 

 “Mr Bond I’ve been expecting you.”  Bond ran a finger over his jawline. Fillings?

 “I am Madagascar.  We have your agent.  Actually he loves us.  Just hand over your gun, and you could be in for a real good time.”

 “I think you must be mistaken.  My name is Mr Seven.  Since it already seems you don’t know English that well, I guess you can’t possibly understand what that means.”

“Take him”.  Madagascar grinned and Bond noticed his gold fillings.  Bond  emerged from the cloak cupboard with his hands up.

 “Actually Mr Bond, over the years I’ve heard you were dead a number of times, but now I can see you are alive and here in the flesh.”

 “I hate to skim over the niceties, but can you get me a drink.  I am feeling a little weak.”

 As Madagascar turned to his two security guards, looking at each one in turn, Bond pulled out his gun and sunk the butt into first one and then the second security guard’s temples, almost at the same time as tackling each to the floor, then warned them he would shoot if they moved.  It was relatively easy. Inside his psyche he was marvelling at the simplicity of his actions, and wondering if they were the worse for drink.

Madagascar’s face blanched and he looked around for support. He was neither tall nor heavily built.

“You know those Kenyans next door have nothing to do with my game.”

“I do know.  I was briefed.  But I do wonder how you knew how I would show up.”

 “Well, Bond, OO is OO.  I have friends in high places, friends in low places, and friends in the coat cupboard it seems.  Want to know more?”

“Actually my current organisation keeps me very well indeed.  I don’t need any new friends just now.”

 “Ahh. I wondered when you’d come by Babes!”  Madagascar smirked, his black eyes rolling in his head like a clown on the seafront.

 Four menacing yet beautiful women appeared on the scene.

 “Gosh,  I thought it was only Colonel Gaddaffi who had female body guards. This makes the task ahead of me a tad ungentlemanly but here goes.”

 Bond aimed with his Walther PPK and then fired, one, two, three ,four, five shots before the ladies could even blink. They all fell, Madagascar falling last. The lady who had reached to her suspenders for a gun had it in her hand as she slumped to the floor. Bond took a good look at Madagascar lying  prostrate on the carpet. A feeling of sheer terror filled him and images of June Blossom flashing through his mind were  the only things that kept him sane.  He had no time to check where the bullets went or whether Madagascar was in fact dead.

 “Don’t any of you try to move, I have back-up on the way” he growled, knowing that it was highly unlikely the bunch were all dead or even close to dead.

 Then he said in a softer tone  to no-one in particular  and raising his eyes to quickly admire the chandelier (Venetian?) “ Goodbye all.  I must be going.  Sorry about the negative dividends.”  He thought he saw Madagascar’s face break into a sadistic grin as he lay on the carpet, his eyes too rolled to the chandelier on the ceiling.

 “I’ve made my call and I’m afraid myself and Mrs Henry must leave urgently.  We will be in touch.”  Bond smiled as he re-emerged into the basement of the Kenyan Embassy.

 Thank God there was a car waiting for them.  Thank God he only had to spend one night with Macey – but then that night, he did discover another side to her – Blossom would not be pleased if she had known the pleasure he had that night with Macey.

 80 80 80!  The helicopter had to deal with a strong North Wind.”You’re losing your touch” Bond said inside his psyche.  80 80 80. “You’ve got this far Seven and you’re going to be frozen.”

 “Er Mr Bond, we’re down and I see someone waiting for you.  You can disengage from the helicopter now.”

 Blossom was there:- in  high heeled boots and a thick fur jacket resting on her toned thighs.

 “Hello darling.  You look ravishing.  All I need to complete the welcome is a Cuban and a ….” He slipped his hand into his pocket where the bracelet was waiting.

 “Babe?” ventured Blossom.

 “No.  You’ll do. Only joking.  You are my babe and oh don’t I know it!”

 His arms sucked Blossom up in a warm and clinging embrace and he planted a kiss on her forehead before going for a full-on kiss on her moist glowing  lips.

“Cooper’s here. He came a day early.”

 “Well then I’ve nothing to worry about have I?”

 “No, Seven , probably not.”

The couple  dipped under the blades and Bond looked forward to his first Cuban for a day.

What would tomorrow bring?  Only time would tell. And there were still the emails to write regarding his eightieth birthday bash.  And in the distant future?  Roll on Cryonics and what that would produce…….

THE END – for now!

ENJOY