MI6 Internal Affairs

Bond came back into consciousness to the pressure of restraints on his arms and legs. It was not a new feeling, but unwelcome none the less. Eyes closed, he took stock. Nothing broken, a few bruises and a dull ache in his neck, that might or might not have been from the needle they'd stuck him with. "Good morning.", a female voice said. Crisp and clear, slightly accented. Through his half closed eyes, Bond saw her perfectly manicured hand reach out to tip his head up. "Mr. Bond.", she was pretty, petite, dark haired, her dark almond eyes suggested Asian heritage, but her accent was British. "My employer will be so happy to see you, but, well, I am afraid, that we will have to do something first.", she nodded towards someone behind Bond and before he could answer, a strong hand was wrapped around his jaw, another over his forehead. It didn't take the agent too much guesswork, what would follow. The woman was still smiling at him, as her lackey prised Bond's jaw open painfully, the fingers digging into his cheeks. James could hear the grating of tendons as he struggled to escape, but without his hands or feet (both arms and legs had been zip-tied to the back and legs of the chair he was sitting on, from ankles to knees and wrists to elbows, tight enough to not give) there was little chance. The woman tutted and shook her head, as she took up a small object, like a matchbox, but double the height. When she wedged it between his teeth to keep his jaw from snapping shut, Bond tasted alcohol and rubber. Every shred of doubt flew from his mind then. They were making sure, that he would have no quick out. Fuck. His blue eyes watched the woman, as she took up the dental pliers. A sleek, stainless steel affair and the cynical part of his mind wanted to thank her for being so considerate to use something hygienic. The part of him, that was occupied with the pain to come couldn't have brought itself to care, even if he'd been able to talk. "Now, Mr. Bond, I advise you to hold still. We wouldn't want to damage your tongue, would we?", she asked pleasantly, as she all but climbed into his lap. "Nasty business.", he continued as she navigated the instrument along his teeth to the far left. The scrape of the metal against the inside of his mouth was unpleasant. The taste reminded him too much of blood. "Muscles bleed like no tomorrow.", she didn't seem to be talking to Bond anymore, as she tightened the jaws of the pliers around his tooth. "Wouldn't want to ruin my dress ..." The tooth was dead, so Bond didn't feel the pressure of the instrument, but the tissue around it, the bone underneath was still very much alive. He felt a gentle tug at first, nothing more, than when one presses one's tongue against the tooth, but the pressure increased until the grating of bone was loud in Bond's ears. "Just a little bit more.", she said as the pressure turned into pain and Bond tried and failed to contain a groan. The pain shot up his jaw and settled somewhere between the hinge and his ear, as she gave the pair of pliers one sharp twist. Now the metallic taste in Bond's mouth was blood. The added salt on his tongue proved that and he balled his hand's into tight fists. The tension of his muscles made the zip ties dig painfully into his arms, but the woman was smiling. "See, all done.", she patted his cheek and held up the bloody tooth. For a moment, she considered it and then dropped it to the floor, where she stepped on it, grinding it into a mixture of bone and cyanide. "There now. Open wide.", she continued and wriggled the rubber block free from his mouth, leaving Bond to work his jaw. "Could have bought me a drink first.", he quipped and she laughed. "Maybe, if you are a good boy, you'll get a drink later. But first ...", she smiled as she turned away and left the room, Bond's unseen guard still a silent presence behind him. When the woman came back, she was accompanied by an all too familiar figure. "Mr. Bond.", the man said with a cruel smile. "Mr. White. I'm sure, the pleasure is all yours."

OOC: This story follows the road of a Bond movie and thus we close bedroom doors behind our characters. But we might possibly hand out a more ...[insert lewd chuckle] ... detailed report about their last night in Hong Kong for those of you who are interested and of proper age.  Just send in a request and we might give you the password to a private blog. ;)

Bond straightened his collar and brushed an imaginary speck of dust from his shoulder, after they had released their suspect. If his shirt had had long sleeves, he would have straightened the cuffs, too. They were out of options. If the Triad wasn't involved, Elizabeth could be anywhere. But apparently, they were lucky, too. Mallory's phone rang and after a short conversation, they were on their way back to the car. "And they couldn't have told us sooner?", Bond grumbled as he slid into the driver seat. Gareth sighed, shrugged and took the passenger seat. "Well, let's hope, we'll find her." They parked half a block away from the building of the young man, which their colleagues had identified earlier. Both men pulled their guns in unison, the kind of teamwork, that came natural to soldiers. Bond still felt the fatigue burn in his muscles and the tension, that always built before a mission intensified the ache. The street in front of the building was lined with cars and motorcycles and they could hear loud music, as soon as they entered. The boom of the bass reverberated through the staircase, as Bond and Mallory took the stairs to the third floor, two at a time. They stopped three doors down from the flat of their suspect and looked at each other. The music came from there. "You've got to be kidding me!", Bond groaned and holstered his weapon. "I'll gladly sign the order to kill.", Mallory added and rolled his eyes. The door swung open to reveal a sea of drunken youngsters, as they rung the doorbell and Bond didn't hesitate, before he pushed through, looking for Elizabeth. She was sprawled in the lap of a young man, giggling at something he was saying into her ear, but her expression changed rapidly to annoyance, as James pulled her up by the elbow. "What the ...", she started and looked up at Bond. Her eyes went wide, as she met his icy stare. "Out, now!", the agent growled and dragged her along.

Meanwhile the girls tried to pass the time, but when even tumblr and shwatsonlock fanart became more boring than the games of Scarlett's smartphone, silence fell upon them and worries rose. Charlotte still profited from the blessed sleep of her young age. She curled together in her seat and dozed off. Her sister stayed awake, trying hard not to cry. Since Uncle Gareth and James Bond had gone, she felt lost and alone among the strange people her uncle had left them with. Again and again she went through the memories of her stay at the hotel, of Eli's flirts and her disappearance. And suddenly she remembered a certain detail! "Lottie, wake up! Wake up! "What?", the younger one murmured still half asleep. "There was another guy!" "Hm?" Lottie's eyes flickered open. "The guy in that red livree. The one with the motorbike. She was with him last night before and after dinner!" "Oh. That pretty black haired cutie?" "Of course. How could I forget him?" "Because you really understand nothing of boys?" "Shut up you little pest! You didn't remember either." "Eli has so many beaus. How should one keep track?" “Maybe we should tell them.” Scarlett got up and went to the office her uncle had visited earlier. She knocked. Twice. And opened the door. “I’m sorry, Sir.” The two men inside the room watched her with interest. “How can we help you, Miss?” A Chinese guy in Jeans and T-shirt answered friendly and in perfect English. A worn out Biker’s jacket from sturdy leather hung over the backrest of his chair. “I’m not sure”, she coughed nervously. “But I just remembered a detail about the missing girl. My sister. The one Uncle Ga - I mean Mr. Mallory - is looking for.” The guy’s eyes narrowed. “Yes?” He waved to her to come in. “Tell us.” “I’m not sure”, she repeated, and made a hesitant step into the office. “But yesterday she met another guy, we haven’t told Mr. Mallory and Mr. Bond about.” “Yeah”, Lottie’s voice chirped behind her back. “It was a guy with a bike. But he wore some strange kind of uniform. As hotel people do. But it was different from the uniforms in our hotel. It was red.” “And a bit shabby if you ask me”, Scarlett added. “Not shabby.” “Yes, shabby.” “No. Just dusty. Hey!” With her usual impertinence, Lottie walked into the office of what was very likely Secret Service or Mafia or whatever, as if she belonged there. “You surely can get more videos from the security camera of our hotel. Just as Mr. Bond did. Maybe we can find the motorbike guy.” The two man in the office exchanged an amused look. “Okay, let’s see.” They had him half an hour later. He worked for a delivery service. “Maybe we should inform Mr. Bond and my uncle now”, Scarlett suggested.

Bond chuckle quietly to himself, as he walked back to the office, where he had left Mallory. He poked his head into the visitor's area to check on the girls and winked at Charlie, who grinned broadly. The next two hours were spent arguing. Bond didn't want to take Mallory to the club. To dangerous, too much exposure. But Mallory would have none of it. "She's my niece!", he said and James folded his arms. "You are the head of MI6!" "She's family!", and that was that. If Bond had learned one thing in the time he'd spent with Gareth, it was, when the other man couldn't be swayed and it was better for all concerned to simply admit defeat. So they arranged for Charlotte and Scarlett to be guarded by two of the senior agents from Station H, while James and Gareth went out to the club. James had opted for a dark red button down and black slacks, while Mallory wasn't to be deterred from his usual choice of clothes. The club was loud and too reminiscent of the lounge in Moscow for even Bond to keep his humour. The agent kept Mallory close, going so far as to rest a hand on the small of the taller man's back while he guided him to the bar. Bond ordered a Martini, but Mallory refused to drink alcohol, which was, James mused, as he watched the barkeeper pour the gin into the shaker, for the best. Not everyone had such a high tolerance for alcohol under stress. They paid directly and watched the crowd. "Put down your drink and follow me.", Bond said after a moment. "Stay close." and just a little later, he had the young man from the pool pinned, face first, against the wall, the muzzle of his Walther pressed tightly against the back of the man's head. "I no have her!", the boy insisted, even as his shoulder was about to pop out of it's socket. "I just talk.", his English was mediocre and his accent thick and heavy, but it was still enough for both Bond and Mallory to understand, that they were wrong.

Gareth decided quickly that further action was in order. "We need to visit a few friends that might help in the search", he informed his nieces. "You two will stay at the hotel and ..." "I'm sorry, Uncle Gary, but I think that's a very stupid idea", Charlotte interrupted him primly. He was speechless for a moment, but she wasn't. "I've seen enough movies to know that you should never part the party. Because we might get lost, too. Or you might. And then we have to call mom." She spoke with the solemn gravity appropriate for such a frightful option. "That's why we should come with you. I promise we will behave. Even Scarlett." "Oh, why can't you get lost, you little piece of ..." "Behave Letti!", Charlotte parroted and raised her index finger. "That's not true. Its just not true", her uncle muttered, pondered the options for a moment and finally nodded. "Well, you come with us. But you do what we tell you and you will speak to no one except when I order you." Scarlett nodded. Charlie saluted. They drove to Station H to run a full background check on the employee in question and his cronies. The girls stayed in the small visitor's area. After a while the Hong Kong agents affirmed that Eliza's possible abductor had indeed connections to the ring of human traffickers. He frequently visited one of their clubs. The very club that had lately been the centre of activity. They had no other choice, but to visit it at night. While planning out this new mission, Bond was getting coffee at the vending machine on the floor and overheard two members of Station H talking in the next office. "Who are those girls?" "I don't know. The boss brought them. Maybe they are related to the triad." "The little one is creepy. She looks like she's judging all of us."

Bond had to admit, the little girl wasn't bad at all. "I tried tracking her phone.", Scarlett piped up and both men looked at her. The girl shrugged. "After the last time she dodged us, I put a tracking app on her phone. It's off, though. Last time it was on, she was somewhere around the hotel." Bond and Mallory exchanged a look. "I'll get the security feed.", the agent said and turned on his heel, but before he reached the door, he remembered something, so he swung back around. "I've seen her with one of the employees at the pool." "Boy, told'ya. The cunt." "Lottie!" "It's Charlie!" "Quiet!", Mallory interjected and turned to Bond. Again, the agent started for the door. "His file, got it.", he said, without Gareth having to say anything. It took James less than half an hour to get both the security tapes and the file of the employee. He made a short detour over the bathroom to scrub at the reddish stain on his knuckles, before he joined Gareth and the girls back at the room. "We need to check him in the database.", Bond murmured, as he placed the disc into the laptop. Scarlett hovered off to the side, while Charlotte quickly inserted herself between the two men, to watch the security footage. "There.", the she pointed out and then turned her face towards James. "You're secret service, right?", she asked bluntly and for a moment, Bond was stunned. "We've got a bet running, you see." "Charlotte Bartowsky!", her older sister grumbled, glaring daggers at her, but Charlie wasn't impressed. "What?", the girl asked with a shrug. "You can't just ask that!", Scarlett chastised and looked mortified, while James tried to hide his grin. Mallory looked mildly put out. "Why?", Charlie gave back. "You started it." "You just ... ", Scarlett groaned and dragged a hand down her face, pulling off her glasses in the process. "You're horrible!" "No, I'm not!" "Yes, you are!" "Am not!" "Are!" "AM NOT!" Mallory pinched the bridge of his nose. "If we could focus on your missing sister, please!", he said politely and both girls exchanged one last, scathing look, before they turned back to the task at hand.

"What do you mean, she's gone?" Mallory frowned. He couldn't offer the girls a drink, so he ordered them to sit on the couch and tell their tale. "When has Eliza left the hotel?" To his surprise the little Charlotte strolled over to the bar to get a bottle of Lemonade for herself and her sister each. "We're not sure." The youngest drank half of her bottle in one quick guzzle. "The sheets of her bed were used this morning. But she was already gone when we woke up. The people on the reception haven't seen her leave." The young girl was disturbingly calm, while her older sister was visibly shaken by sorrow. "What do you think, Uncle Gary?" Scarlett forgot her own lemonade on the table and frantically searched her pockets for a tissue to dry her wet eyes. "We phoned and texted her several times", Charlotte went on. "But the cunt doesn't answer. I bet she's with a boy." "Lotti!", her sister snapped. "It's CHARLIE!", the younger corrected completely unimpressed. "And Eli always does that when she is with one of her boyfriends. She always ignores calls then. That stupid little ..." "Lotti!" Mallory exchanged a horrified look with James. If she had fallen into the hands of the Triad ... "We need to track her phone", he whispered to James.

Bond managed the get up in the morning through sheer force of will. His muscles felt sore and not even a hot shower could alleviate it. Mallory looked calmer and more rested, than he had in a while and James decided not to comment on it. Mostly for his own peace of mind. They didn't see the girls at breakfast (no surprise at 0730 in the morning), but they walked past their would-be-thief, who quickly averted his eyes and scampered off. Station H was astonishingly busy, when they arrived. The usually relaxed atmosphere was disrupted by a flurry of activity and it didn't take them long to find out why. The Triad branch they had been hunting had stepped up their game. A whole bunch of girls had vanished over the last few days and most of the disappearances could be traced back to one of their clubs. Bond put up a token effort to offer help, but was (thankfully) refused. "We've been able to handle it so far.", both James and Gareth chose to ignore the accusatory undertone. Bond was quiet, most of the day, but Mallory didn't seem to mind and up until they stepped out of the elevator at their floor, both were convinced, that they would be able to spend a quiet afternoon, before they would meet the three Bartowksy daughters for dinner. At their door, however, they met Scarlett and Charlotte, the younger looked annoyed, while Scarlett had a nervous kind of energy about her. "What happened?", James asked.

Mallory felt like a drowning man and Bond was the piece of driftwood to hold on. The impression that they were still floating in uncertainty had even become stronger, but for this very moment it was easier to bear, because again they were in it together. He allowed himself to hold on for a while. This night he found sleep, for the prize of Bond laying awake.

Silence. Deep, heavy silence, in which they simply stared at each other. "You told them, they would have to kill you, too.", Bond stated bluntly. Not a question. He was calm then. Frighteningly so. "When?" "The Skyfall hearing.", was the quiet, almost defeated answer and Bond gritted his teeth. It was entirely possible. "You're an idiot.", the agent stated then. "Bloody idiot." "I got us one week and we used it, didn't we?", Mallory hissed in answer. "But, if it makes you feel better, I'm sorry, I have principles.", he added cynically. "Yes, we used it. We got through it.", was James answer. His voice was level, almost flat, but there was a whole slew of meanings laced through those few words. "We'll get through it again." "We have no proof that my paranoia is more than just that." Mallory rose from the sofa and placed a hand on Bond's shoulder. "I never told you, I was glad you were with me. Maybe it's time to do so." Wordlessly, Bond stepped closer and reached up to tug the other down to him.

The head of MI6 fell silent and watched his agent standing his ground. He returned Bond's angry, challenging glance with a cool stare. But finally, he lowered his lids and sank deeper into the cushions of the sofa. Bond was right. It was ridiculous. And yet it seemed impossible to tell. Because if he voiced his suspicion, the ghosts would become real for both of them. "You know, there are forces in our government that don't approve of the Double-Oh-Program." He noticed the strain in his own voice. "I know that since Silva some ... individuals ..." He watched Bond closely now. " ... would rather see the Double-Oh's gone forever." He sighed softly. "Especially you." Bang. Clean hit. Now that he had said the worst part, it was easier to go on. "The minister knows, I would never approve of any dishonest methods to get rid of people. I told her, she would have to dispose of more then one." He shrugged and regretted the helpless motion a second later. "I had hoped, that after we had blown Wilson's cover, we would go back to the usual state of affairs. And that might be the case. I was sure, we had regained their trust. And yet ... I'm not sure, if this is paranoid, but I realized I don't trust her any more." Finally he had admitted what he had so desperately tried not to acknowledge and in contrast to the old saying that sharing was healing, he didn't feel particularly relieved. He took a deep breath. Now it was Bond's part to cope with these news.

James felt his breath catch ever so slightly in his throat, as Gareth reached over. "Well", the agent started, stopped and cleared his throat. "We've been waking up together for the past few days.", his smile should have been cocky, but it was too soft around the edges, his brows drawn together in an approximation of a frown. "It's not that easy!", Mallory answered in a strained voice and that was it. Bond shot to his feet, angry energy radiating off of him. "Then for fuck's sake, tell me what's going on!", he turned to Gareth, eyes blazing. "I know, that you know something and up until now, I've gone along with your secrecy, but this is getting ridiculous. Tell me, what you know!"