M stared out over the estate through the wide double pane window, studiously ignoring the other occupant in the room. She was not pleased by her superior's decision but orders were orders. Whatever pressure the American applied to make those orders happen, well, M held a grudging respect for the hooded figure seated behind her. Granted the hood and its accompanying mask were ridiculous but the American would figure that out soon enough.
It wasn't the opening door that made her turn. Despite M's efforts to ensure the hinges screeched like a cat in heat, it opened soundlessly, without so much as a muffled click to alert them of the entrant. M had other ways of knowing someone entered her abode, a sense of another present energy, the prickle on the back of one's neck when a dangerous predator is staring at them from a high branch.
"Hello agent, take a seat," she spun, a satisfied smirk on her lips at the American's tense posture.
The man who joined them was tall, broad shouldered, handsome, one would think someone of his size and stature could not move with the stealth he achieved. It was a note of pride to M, the agent before her was one of her best. "Well done with the operations facility in North Korea. You've bought the world another few years of inaction." M paced from behind her desk, her hands balled behind the small of her back. The next part was the hardest. She could feel the American watching her beneath the hood.
"I have another task for you," she began.
"No time for a bit of R & R?" The agent sighed with a grin, crossing his legs at this knee. His tone was relaxed, but his eyes studied the concealed figure beside him. M bit down on her own sigh, moving forward.
"It is a much simpler task than wading through a militarized country, but important nonetheless. A run of the mill retrieval."
The man's brows knit together as he looked between M and the still silent American. "A retrieval? Surely you have other agents who could tackle this?"
"The mission itself is not why we've tapped you," said M
"The reason is the person who you are retrieving," finished the American, who reached up to remove the hood. Auburn curls spilled out, framing an slender face with wide green eyes.
M breathed through her nose. Bloody theatrics. "Agent 007, this is our American liaison Jane White. She will be accompanying you."
There was a beat of silence where M saw her agent's eyes widen. It was a brief reaction but it was there. "Bond, James Bond, pleasure to make your acquaintance Ms. White."
The American schooled her reaction, giving the agent a warm smile that brought out the dimples in her cheeks. "Please, call me Jane." She shook his hand, her fingers brushing over his rest as she pulled away.
James blinked, shaking his head. "Who exactly are we retrieving that requires agents from two different countries?"
M laid a tablet on the desk between them, information blooming across the screen at the touch of her fingertip. "His name is Felix Hatten. Two months ago, he went missing on a routine surveillance of the Russian border."
"The Russians?" James inquired, his leg jogging up and down. He was likely spoiling for a fight with them after their last encounter.
"No," said M, "we believe he was taken by a third party with unclear intentions. We know the facility where he is being detained. You job is to slip in without alerting them of your presence and retrieve him alive."
James looked to the American, Jane White. "What is your purpose in this mission? Driving the get-away car?"
Jane blushed. "Quite the opposite Mr. Bond. While you search the facility for our target, I shall be bugging their internal network."
The agent stroked his chin. M knew of his disdain for 'wire work'. "Fair enough, when shall we start?"
Jane exchanged a glance with M, nodding to one another. M turned to James. "You leave immediately. There is a car waiting for you."
***
James drove. The American didn't put much argument forth on the subject. They rode in silence for a while until Jane turned to him, an alluring smile on her face that pulled his attention from the curvy country highway.
"Mind if I turn on some music? Helps me think," said Jane. He nodded his assent. The radio flicked on to Iron Fire, right at the chorus for Left for Dead. He shrugged at Jane's raised eyebrow. It was hard to find a decent hard rock station in the country. She fiddled with the seek function, settling on a channel as the opening chords of The Used's On My Own.
Excitement flickered in her compelling green eyes.
"The things I've become, that something is missing," she softly sang along, periodically glancing up at him.
"You have a rather lovely singing voice, Jane," he remarked.
Her voice stuttered to a halt. "Thank you," she said. She stopped singing, staring out the window for the rest of the ride. Her reaction puzzled him. He couldn't quite shake the feeling something was off, as if she'd presented him with a test he'd failed. It stayed with him, perching on his shoulder as they drove further and further into the secluded country side. They spotted the innocuous facility miles away, mostly as their was nothing else surrounding it. It was nothing more than a massive concrete box, the monotony broken by barred windows. There was no mistaking it for a prison of sorts, though James wondered what sort of intel his partner would be able to find. It looked like a technological black hole.
He parked their ride a good two miles off, at a bend in the road that obscured them from sight. Their weren't enough surrounding trees to give them adequate cover, meaning their would have to wait until dark to make a go at the facility. He eyed the sky through the windshield.
"Looks like we have a few hours to kill," he pushed a button on the dash. The glove box opened, revealing a flask of fine brandy and two small crystal tumbles wrapped in black velvet. "How about a drink to relax and chat?"
Jane looked at him, a curious light in those eyes. He was grateful those distractions would be far away from him once they were in the facility.
"What would you like to talk about, Mr. Bond?" She accepted the glass of brandy from him, swirling it in her glass as he took a sip. The liquid warmed his throat.
"Well, your musical taste for one. I would not expect a lady such as yourself to be a fan of the Black Label Society," he nodded to the radio where All for You continued to strain through the speakers.
She chuckled at that, taking a sip from her glass. The amber liquid wet her full lips, drawing his eye to them. "You'd be surprised what I like."
"Tell me more," James murmured. Her tongue darted out, licking a drop from her bottom lip.
"Well, for one, I am a bit of an adrenaline junkie," said Jane, leaning forward for her secretive whisper. "Sky diving, bungee junkie, scuba, skiing, I love it all."
James smiled into his glass. "I do appreciate a woman who is into strenuous activity."
Jane rewarded him with a throaty laugh, her rich voice sending a shiver through him. Her eyes were evergreen warm when she looked at him, like Christmas morning. "You are incorrigible Mr. Bond," she said.
"Please call me James," he winked at her. "So, is there a Mr. White at home, waiting for your return?"
Her smile turned sad. She cupped the glass in her hands, her features smoothing to somber. "No, not for a long time now." He could read the sorrow in her face. Not the sorrow of divorce. He suspected the former Mr. White had passed from this world.
"I'm sorry for your loss," he said, laying a hand on her shoulder. She started at the touch, her eyes luminous for a moment, her lips so close it was a simple matter of closing the distance between them. He couldn't do it, not to a woman clearly still gripped in grief.
"He's not dead," she said, "only lost. I'll find him again one day." Fierce determination burned in her eyes, gone in a flash before she fell back into demure. "What about you Mr. Bond? Anyone special waiting for you?" If he had blinked, he would have missed that spark, but he couldn't look away from her, and as he processed her question, he noticed how she held her breath. Interesting.
"Afraid not. I seem to be an eternal bachelor."
Jane looked away, taking the smallest sip of her drink.