The blow hit James hard on the jaw, and he crashed backwards, slipping on the wet metal. Blood was drying on his lip, his eyebrow had been split in a previous blow and blood trickled slowly into his line of vision. Raising a hand he wiped away the blood from his lip but only succeeded in breaking the wound open again.
He ached; he had no idea how long they had been fighting for. He was definitely getting too old for this, he thought with a humourless grimace. Deronda matched Bond in every way, the same height, similar weight, the same speed, strength and intelligence, not to mention the same desire to win.
Their fight had led them into a long dark room, devoid of any guards, or anybody else. Like rats deserting a sinking ship, Bond thought irritably, he could only guess that everybody on board had long gone, men like that had no loyalty when it came to saving their own skin.
Somewhere far below them, a woman had screamed. The sound had wrenched at him, and he had stopped immediately, listening hard for any further noise. When none had come, he was forced to face his fear. Ashleigh was most likely dead, even if she had somehow survived Lucinda; the water level must be dangerously high down there, and with her hands tied...
His train of thought had been broken by Deronda's fist. The two men had struggled fiercely, until their battle had led them here. The electric lights above their heads flickered and then failed, sparks began to fly from all the electrical outputs.
'Give it up, Bond!' Deronda shouted, wiping blood away from the corner of his mouth. A well timed punch had knocked one of his teeth out. 'This is it. You can't win this!'
But that was just it. James Bond would never give in. Summoning his strength, he launched himself once more at Deronda.
*
On a lower level, the water level was indeed rising, but so was Ashleigh. She had found a flight of stairs, and was now hurrying up them as fast as she could, grateful that the higher she got, the less water there was.
The lights flickered above her ahead, and she hesitated. Sparks began to fly from the light socket, and with a creak as loud as the ship, the fluorescent strip crashed towards her. She screamed, and jumped back, hands over her head. This was getting dangerous, having survived Lucinda, she was now in danger of drowning or electrocution. Determinedly, she continued her haul upwards, what else could she do?
Finally she reached areas that seemed familiar, or at least their layout did. She paused, reading the deck number, and with a deep breath, plunged through the nearest door.
Thank god for small mercies, she thought briefly, the electrics were yet to fail her. There was still light and still power in this room, and by the looks of it, she was going to need both.
Row after row of computers faced her, each glowing eerily in the dim light. This was it, this was her chance.
She threw herself onto the floor next to the nearest computer, and yanked her left foot up awkwardly, ignoring the pain in her right arm. Blood stained fingers struggled to pry the heel from her thick boot. A final yank and the rubber came away easily. She smiled, it was still there. Inside the small compartment gouged into the sole of her boot, slightly waterlogged, but no worse for wear, the small disc Alec had slipped her was snug and safe in its hiding place.
Ashleigh's finger jabbed at the CD-ROM drive of the PC nearest her, it slid open with a hiss. In went the disc, and Ashleigh waited anxiously as the machine whirred and hummed into life.
A single beep, and then suddenly, the screen was filled with row after row of numbers, dashing by, seemingly random, Ashleigh stared at them, trying to see if a pattern emerged until finally, they stopped, and the access codes to Hermes were revealed to her.
She held her breath. She had worked in the Cryptography section of MI6 for nearly eighteen months, proving herself to have a natural talent to spot patterns and sequences where others did not. M had been reluctant to assign such a logical mind elsewhere, but despite Ashleigh's success as a cryptographer, she had wanted to take on a far more physical role within the agency. Now it seemed her talent would serve her well.
The glow of the screen highlighted the concentration on her face, her mind working through possibility after possibility. Time stood still for her, all she could think about was the numbers. Find the sequence, just find the sequence.
Suddenly, she blinked. No. It couldn't have been that simple. But then... with a name like Hermes, should she really be surprised?
*
'Any news?' M's tone was deceptively calm, she refused to let the strain show on her face. Contact had been lost with both agents, and the helicopter that had delivered them to the ship had vanished off the face of the earth. Neither were particularly good signs and there was an air of despondency within the room.
'None, sir,' a radio operator glanced up briefly before returning to his screen.
M sighed. She hated to show favouritism towards agents, and tried to convince herself that it was merely because MI6 couldn't afford to lose an agent like Bond that she would give this order. 'Send out troops to the last known co-ordinates of Deronda's ship.'
*
Ashleigh still stared at the screen, for a moment doubting her own judgement. The theory of Occams Razor suddenly leaped into her mind - the simplest, the most obvious solution was quite often the correct one. The code was, at first, seemingly very complex, but it had broken down before her eyes, a series of numbers based upon the ancient Greek alphabet.
If she was correct in her calculations, she should be able to stop the release of Hermes on New Year's Eve. And ultimately, everything she had been doing had been leading up to this moment. The creak of the hull of the ship brought her crashing back to reality, it was all very well gloating over her success, but if she lingered there any longer, she may well find herself losing power, and shortly heading for the bottom of the sea.
It was the wake up call she needed. Before she could change her mind, her fingers lightly dashed over the keyboard, and decidedly she jabbed down hard on 'ENTER'. It was done. Before her eyes, a new menu appeared, and seconds later, Hermes was deactivated. She had done it.
The click behind her surprised her. Spinning she saw a protective glass sheet slide back from a compartment on the wall. Her curiosity piqued, she headed over there.
Two vials were contained within a thick protective container, locked into place. Ashleigh's eyes widened, and slowly, her hand shaking she reached for it. Hermes. She held Hermes in her hand. There was little light in the room and she turned it over in her hands, seeing nothing within the vials. She squinted, but still nothing, perhaps the merest hint of cloudiness, but nothing else. Yet in her hands she held the virus that was capable of destroying the world. And whoever held Hermes, held the world in their hands.
She felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise. This is what they had been fighting for; this is what people had killed for. A shiver coursed through her, this is what Alec had wanted for himself. And she held it now. In that moment she realised the lure of control, the lust for power. If she returned, she would have to hand this over to M, and it would vanish into the depths of secrecy, never to be seen again. If she kept it, she could demand anything she wanted. She could have that power, the power that Alec wanted. Alec. She laughed. If she went to Alec with Hermes, she would have him in the palm of her hand. Together they could become a force to be reckoned with, a power which none could rival.
Her hands were shaking, the blood that covered her hands and upper body was now slowly smearing itself over the casing of Hermes as she turned it around and around, examining it from all angles. She had killed for this. Killed so she could prevent its release. She knew now. She knew how easy it would be to cross the line, to let ambition come over her and tempt her to the other side, to deny everything she had ever fought for, everything her father had fought for. To become as cold and heartless as Lucinda had been. The thought dragged her back, and she gave a small cry, ashamed at the thoughts that filled her mind. Before she could change her mind, she rammed the container deep into one of the pockets of her trousers. She wouldn't become one of them. Temptation may beckon her forward, but she wouldn't go.
Blood still poured from her right bicep, she was cold and shivering, but she felt a sense of victory at long last. James would be proud of her.
James.
Where was he?
Panicked, she started to run. She could only hope that it wasn't too late.
*
Caleb Deronda was a powerful man. Used to getting his own way, he could not imagine losing this battle against a man such as James Bond. This man had dared to come up against him, and for that insult, Caleb would destroy him.
His plan had been foolproof. Until the British had interfered. If they hadn't, then the sale of Hermes and the vaccination against it would have gone ahead as planned, and Caleb would have been on his way to his Caribbean hideout within ours. And Lucinda Elliot would have been a distant memory. She would have been furious with him, but he would have been long gone with no way of being traced. And the profits from Hermes safely deposited in several off shore bank accounts. It was hard work being a criminal mastermind, but occasionally the ventures paid off. Hermes should have succeeded.
Instead he was standing on the remains of his warship as it slowly sank into the icy Russian waters. But first he would destroy the man called James Bond.
Both men were bruised. Both men were bleeding. Neither had the advantage over the other, but then, neither had the disadvantage either.
Deronda spat a mouthful of blood out into the now knee height water.
'What do you do now, Mr. Bond?' he asked, taking in the wary stance of the other man, the cold blue eyes watching his every move, black hair rumpled over a sweat soaked forehead. 'What does your training tell you to do now?'
Bond circled the other man slowly, each man filled with pride and determination.
'Checkmate 007,' Deronda snarled. 'What are you going do about it?'
'He's not going to do anything. But I might.'
The voice was strained with exhaustion, and cracked with pain. James's head snapped up, as did Deronda's.
Ashleigh staggered from behind a pillar, blood stained, one arm clasping onto the other. Blood seeped through her fingers, her vest was torn, her face drained of blood. The scratch marks from Lucinda's nails were vivid on her pale skin.
Deronda glared at her. Ashleigh stared back. Slowly she raised the silver pistol up, recovered from Lucinda's grasp. 'This ends now, Deronda. Now.'
Her hand was trembling.
Deronda never knew what hit him. In the moment of distraction caused by Ashleigh's appearance, Bond's hand found its way round a collapsed iron bar, solid, thick and undeniably heavy.
Ashleigh's gaze slipped past Deronda's sludgy green eyes, and met James's. She nodded.
Deronda turned. He saw the bar. He saw Bond.
The bar connected viciously with the side of Caleb Deronda's head. With a deep groan he crashed into the water, which rapidly reddened with blood.
Ashleigh waded forward, her dark eyes flickering from side to side as if expecting another onslaught from any direction. She collapsed against her godfather heavily.
'Lucinda's dead,' she croaked.
'How badly hurt are you?' he asked, trying to move her hand away from her arm.
She shook her head. 'It's nothing. You?'
'Fine.' They both froze as the ship rolled beneath their feet. 'We're out of time, we have to get out of here.'
'Hermes...'
'There's no time!' Bond slipped an arm under her shoulders. 'We have to go!'
'No!' she protested. She fumbled with her pocket, yanking free the container, holding it up to show James. 'Enough to kill almost all the world's population...'
'Secure it,' Bond ordered. He gestured towards the metal stairway, already beginning to head towards it. 'Ashleigh? Ashleigh, what are you doing?'
'Is he dead?' Ashleigh stepped towards the immobile figure of Caleb Deronda, water lapping over his static features.
'What?'
'Is he dead?!' Ashleigh cried.
Bond stepped back towards her. 'He's dead.'
'I have to make sure,' Ashleigh muttered, standing over the prone figure. 'It was part of the deal...'
'There isn't time!' Bond shouted over the increasingly loud metallic creaking. 'The ship is sinking!'
'I know!' she screamed. 'But I promised him, I would kill Deronda! It was part of the deal! I have to make sure he's dead!'
Bond grabbed her arm, but with a vicious howl, she turned, and slammed her hands against his chest. Caught off guard he stumbled backwards.
'I have to do this James, its one of the conditions. I made a deal, I gave my word, and I don't go back on that.'
Her hands shaking to the point where she could barely aim straight, but she raised the pistol, fumbling with the safety and fired.
In the centre of Caleb Deronda's forehead a singed black hole marred his smooth, water soaked skin. Ashleigh closed her eyes against the sight.
'It's done. I owe you nothing now,' she spat. Bond didn't need to ask to whom she said the words to. With a small cry she threw the pistol into the water next to the body. She never wanted to see it again. It could rust at the bottom of the ocean for eternity, she didn't care, as long as she didn't have to see it again. She sighed deeply, standing staring until Bond gently led her away.
On the deck, it was only too obvious how much the ship was tilting, the deck was at an awful angle beneath their feet, and the two agents made their awkward way across the slippery slope. Beneath them, the ocean raged slate grey, crashing high against the sinking ship, white foam spraying high in the air only to be whipped away by an icy wind. Ashleigh stared around her, arms wrapped round herself to try and keep the chill away.
'Listen to me,' Bond shouted over the wind. 'Listen to me, do exactly as I say!'
She nodded, watching in a dazed manner as he yanked the casing off a large container. Inside was what looked to be a heavy, thick rucksack. Bond grabbed it, and holding it close to his chest, pulled her closer to him so he could shout in her ear.
'We're going to have to jump. On my count, we'll both jump into the sea. Do not dive! Whatever you do, do not dive, Ashleigh, do you understand what I'm saying? If you dive, you'll go too deep, and the ship will pull you under! You'll get dragged down by the ship. Jump out as far as you can, but try and slow your descent before you hit the water. Try and stop yourself going too deep, and as soon as you hit the water, start swimming! Swim as fast, and as hard as you can away from the ship. Ashleigh!'
He shook her hard, her dark eyes were slipping in and out of focus, and she was trembling from more than just cold. Shock, he realised, she was going into shock. 'Do you understand what I'm saying, do you know what you have to do.'
She nodded. 'Jump, don't dive,' she repeated in a dull monotone. 'Start swimming. I know.'
'Good! Are you ready? Kain, are you ready?'
'Yes, sir,' she mumbled.
He pushed her forwards towards the railing, she clambered over, until her feet found the narrow ledge high above the roaring waves. Even in her somewhat unsteady state, she was painfully aware that she was at a great height, and she wasn't very good at heights. Her hands gripped the bar behind her until her knuckles turned white.
Bond was beside her, his solid bulk a comforting presence. 'On my count,' he shouted.
'Understood!' The ship lurched.
'Three, two one, JUMP!'
An order was an order, and the agent inside Ashleigh obeyed. The wind seemed like it would rip her skin to shreds, she seemed to fall forever, the grey sea rising up closer to her until she thought that it wasn't actually water at all, but solid concrete beneath her rising up to crush her.
At the last moment, she threw her arms wide, and kicked her legs frantically, trying to slow herself down, a final chance for a lungful of air, and she crashed beneath the surface of ocean.
The cold bit into her skin immediately, as sharp as broken glass, the water gripped her, trying to drag her down into its darkest depths, but she flung her arms out, lashing out in a brutal front crawl, dragging herself forwards, away from the ship, just keep swimming.
There was no rhythm to her swimming, no dignity, catching a breath whenever her head broke above the waves, she was fighting the waves, fighting the pull of the sinking ship, her arm burning each time she dragged it over her head until she could only flap helplessly at the water, using her left hand to pull herself through the water.
A hand reached out, gently gripping her right wrist, and she bumped up against thick rubber.
'Up you get,' she heard James say through the water sloshing about her ears. He was pulling her over the side; she kicked upwards until she could fall forwards onto a distinctly wobbly surface. A blanket was being wrapped around her shoulders.
Collapsing back against the side, Bond, a blanket casually draped around him, quickly dragged his watch from wrist, his fingers activating the small tracking device located inside the small package of machinery. Now it was just a matter of floating upon the high sea until the navy picked them up. A sense of satisfaction swept through him.
A small sob disturbed his moment of jubilation.
Ashleigh sat opposite him, desperately rubbing at the blood on her hands. Her shaking had increased tenfold, and she suddenly looked painfully young. As she pitched forward, hands buried against her eyes, a cry catching in her throat, he pulled her into a tight embrace as for the first time in years, Ashleigh Kain broke down.
The world was safe. The mission had been a surprising success. In a short while, she would be safe among the bosom of MI6 and able to crack open the proverbial champagne. Yet Ashleigh felt no triumph, no sense of victory at the part she had played in the success. People had died for Hermes, the canister that rested awkwardly against her thigh, she herself had killed. Blood still ran down her arm, soaking wet she huddled into the blanket, and despite her godfather's tentative embrace, she realised she had never felt so alone in her life.
She sobbed.