Chapter 1

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He waited impatiently for the man to leave the building, to see if he really did have the black leather briefcase M told him about earlier. Inside that briefcase would be all of the information that was stolen from the English by the Spanish just two weeks ago, and that could potentially reveal the names of the captive Spanish spies that were being held in England by MI6. 

Bond had enough of sitting in hot Sevilla air, sweating under his white casual shirt, the beads forming on his forehead as he concentrated on the iron doors a couple of floors down across the street. He was an excellent shot so the death was guaranteed, but the waiting he endured would give him a flimsy looking tan or sunburn at the end of the day. 

His waiting soon came to an end when the door creaked open, a small slit forming through which he saw nothing but darkness until the Spaniard walked out, briefcase in hand, and locked the door behind him. The man looked left and right and couple of times, as if he knew he was being followed or observed, but he soon shook it off as he saw no one who would stand out in his eyes. What he did not know is that Bond lay flat on his stomach on the roof of the building across from his, a silenced UMP 9 propped up and aimed directly at the sidewalk, waiting for the Spaniard to walk back to the plaza where he would meet his fate and let the British recover the files.

Hurry up, Bond thought to himself as the man took his time walking back to the center of the city. He was getting frustrated at the thought of losing the target in the crowd but just as he was about to shift in his spot the man appeared through the visor. Bond kept a steady on him until the man stopped walking and waited for there to be free space around the mafia man. There you go you Spanish bastard, he thought as he fired the shot and saw the man drop dead to the ground, accompanied by several screams of bystanders. He immediately flattened on the roof but keeping a steady eye on what was going on from the small holes through the detailing of the rooftop. With all of the commotion going on, Bond saw the man from MI6 walk by and pick up the briefcase casually before hopping on a bus and disappearing. 

Bond dismantled the silencer from his gun and tucked it away into a large gym bag in which he held some training clothes and running shoes, a towel, and other standard things you would find in a footballer's bag. He then got up and ran down the stairs of the building before exiting onto the street where the Spaniard met his fate. Just as he was walking by an old Seat Ibiza, he noticed something strange about it and looked through the side windshield out of curiosity. He noticed a couple of stray wires sticking out from beneath the front seat but he figured it could have just been old jumper cables. It was when he noticed a small flash of red from beneath the seat every two seconds that he realized that those wires were not just stray wires; they were part of a bomb. 

"Move! Get out of the way!" yelled Bond, motioning to people to get away from where he was standing. Confused, some people stayed behind not understanding what was going on, but Bond kept trying to get them away. "Alejate! Alejate de aqui!" yelled Bond in a broken Spanish. People started to back away, knowing something was up but Bond kept warning people. "Hay una bomba!" he yelled and figured out that the bomb would be triggered instantly by the pull of the handle of any door, hence the wires. He tried to look under the seat and saw a 0:07 display itself on a small screen flashing in red.

Before he had time to think of an escape route, Bond broke into a sprint, running as far as he could from the car which was about to explode. As he ran, people around him ran in his direction and away from the car, learning about it having a bomb inside. After the seven seconds of an intense sprint, a loud explosion shook the ground and a blast of smoke emerged from the spot where the car was parked. The Englishman figured out that it was not time to go around inspecting the car and he decided to head back for the Aston Martin Vantage which was parked on the other side of the square. He casually walked around the city, gym bag in hand and sunglasses protecting his blue eyes from the scorching sun which was now eating away at his neck. 


Once he reached his hotel, the Hotel Murillo, he relaxed on the rooftop terrace with a dry martini and a variety of seafood he was served. It has been a long day for him, hunting down the Spaniard for an entire week, and his neck was burning from the sunburn he received earlier in the day. His order of marinated chicken in artichokes and olives came in with a glass of deep red wine and a side of caviar with bread. He indulged in the Mediterranean meal, savouring the tastes of Spanish cuisine and wine. He noticed a couple of women looking at him curiously, turning back from the balcony ever so often to glance at the fit man in the open white shirt and rather tan skin with brilliant blue eyes. It wasn't a first that Bond was physically attractive and he knew it very well.

Later that night, after he took a nice hot shower followed by a splash of cold water, Bond sat comfortably on his bed, his laptop next to him, writing his final report to M as the case was closed and the man was dead. What bothered him was the bomb. He wondered if the bomb was intended for the Spaniard or if it was for Bond. If it was for Bond, he must have been closely followed and observed since he worked alone and had no contacts in Spain except for a close friend of his. He mentioned it in his report and wondered how M would react to it. 

The former M, Olivia Mansfield, the only true M, would have scolded him for not investigating his surroundings well enough and being careless about his identity. But now since she was dead, Bond had to deal with Mallory, with whom he got along pretty well, but it was nothing compared to what was between him and Olivia. They fought like cats and dogs, but he always obeyed her, knowing she had the upper hand. He would sometimes, actually pretty often, do things behind her back despite her orders such as break into her flat on several occasions. He missed her badly, being the second real heartbreak in his life, the first being the death of the only woman he could possibly love for eternity, Vesper Lynd. Bond had days where he would relive their deaths involuntarily, getting small panic attacks or fury sprees. He would never forget them, especially not after what Blofeld did to him.

He continued to write his report until he was finally done, hoping M would get onto something since he was a rather smart man. And if not M, he would even ask Q or Moneypenny for help since both of them were rather quick and Moneypenny even had some experience in the field. He wondered what the secretary was up to, after having been involved with the whole Nine Eyes ordeal and C taking over the security, and wondered how things were going on in the new office.

Since Nine Eyes never launched, C was dead, and Blofeld was imprisoned, MI6 was back in its position and the double oh' program was restored. Bond was thrilled since he could keep his job even though Mallory would have hired him illegally. Now, he had his own office in the new MI6, one floor below M and he used the new training centers. He awfully missed the old MI6 building, having spent an eternity there behind a desk before he could go into the field, but especially because it reminded him of the old M and everything they went through. The whole building went up in smoke and restoring it was crazy since too much damage was done. Now its ruins just stood at the embankment, ashes and traces of explosions remaining from that night. He missed the late nights spent in the building, a certain calmness in its aesthetic during the night with the soft yellow-orange glow of the lights against the beige and turquoise colors of the building.

He shook off the memories of the past and looked out his window onto the Spanish streets. Many festivities were going on during the summer, most involving religious or culturally influenced parties which would end late at night. Bond would typically attend those with pleasure but he was tired of the day and wanted to get some rest before his early flight back to London. His Aston was already picked up by the same man who took the briefcase earlier and he already missed his colleagues, which was rather unusual considering his ego, but he flipped over in his bed, for once alone, and tried to drift off to sleep.

What kept him awake was the fact that Madeleine Swann was not who he expected her to be. 

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HE-LLO!

So, this is the first chapter for The London File! I hope you enjoyed it and make sure to leave a comment and vote, also share with any Bond fan out there! I truly enjoyed writing this!

I do not own all characters created by Ian Fleming or the writers for the films but all the other ones belong to me. The plot is fully created by my insane mind so I'm gonna copyright that.

Thank you for reading and stay cool!

xIng


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