Never in his life did Bond think he would be participating in a hair dyeing session until now. Being the commanding person she was, Artemisia gave Bond gloves, hair bleach, and all the necessary equipment to transform her long black hair into a light blonde tone. He stood behind her with the cup in hand and looked confused at how to proceed with the task at hand.

"Is it really that hard to figure out how to bleach someone's hair?" she asked.

"Well, I have never done it before believe it or not." he answered, feeling targeted by the Italian.

"You see the substance in the cup? Put that on my hair." she said as she turned around.

"Okay, okay." he said and he dipped his gloved hand into the cream and proceeded to put it in her hair. "All over it?"

"Yes, all over it." she said as she rolled her eyes with a small smile.

Bond frowned at the texture but kept doing as he was instructed while Artemisia was happily enjoying a man having his hands in her hair. The Englishman was slowly covering her hair with the solution as Artemisia was guiding him every now and then. Once all of the product was on and under a cap, Bond took off his gloves and sat down in the armchair in the living area. 

"I hate these gloves." he said as he ripped off the latex from his hands and threw them in a nearby bin, "They are always too small and make me feel like a doctor."

"And what's wrong with being a doctor?" asked Artemisia in return.

"Nothing, I just hold a grudge against one in particular." he said stoically as he remembered the pain he felt when he brought Vesper's lifeless body into the nearest hospital he could find, begging doctors to help him and bring her back to life. 

He yelled and demanded for someone to help her but after they conducted basic tests and used the AED upon Bond's demand, they declared her dead and there was nothing else anyone could do about it. He called M again asking what to do with her body, since his conscience did not allow him to leave her there. Officials from branch I showed up maybe half an hour later, all dressed in black, and accompanied Bond to claim her body. They set her in a mahogany coffin they had brought along, shut the box, and covered it with the Union Jack. They hoisted it up on their shoulders and without a word started making their way towards the exit of the hospital. 

Bond could never forget the moment they walked out into the corridors and made their way to the helipad located outside. Nurses and doctors stopped in their tracks as the men made their way out. Bond found himself in the very back of the procession, receiving saddened looks from the people around, especially those who had seen the agent carry the girl into the hospital in the first place. He hated being pitied but what he hated more was the reason why she died in the first place. 

Her body was flown out to the airport where Bond was supposed to meet the officials after gathering his items. He packed every single item he had brought with him as well as Vesper's belongings before he set off for the airport. And as he was getting off the plane once they had landed in London, he saw the officials unloading the coffin from the aircraft's cargo. 

Ever since that day, Bond had carried Vesper's necklace until he finally found Yousef and made him pay for it. He now wishes he had held onto the jewelry as it reminded him of her but he knew it was no time for sentimental things. Instead, he watched the Italian wash out her hair after the entire treatment was over and expose her fresh blonde mane. He missed the dark waves as they reminded him of Vesper's beautiful shiny hair. Each time he saw blonde, he thought of Madeleine; except her hair was shorter and more face-framing while Artemisia's was long and layered. 

The Italian put on a sundress and a nice floppy hat paired with sleek sandals and a large handbag in which she stored a gun. Bond put on some shorts and a polo shirt, then adding an Italian tourist baseball hat to the mix. They got their gear ready and soon enough it was about seven o'clock.

They crossed the road and briefed up on their covers. James was to be Gregory Batters, a real-estate agent from Melbourne, and Artemisia took the role of Jennifer Lane, a photographer from Brisbane. They had met while working on photos of a million-dollar home Gregory was supposed to put on the market. The two were skilled at accenting so embracing an Australian accent was of no trouble to either. 

"Alright, I'll see you soon." said Bond to Artemisia as he gave her a kiss on the cheek and went toward the city center. 

The girl entered the hotel, Australian accent square on and ready to be used for some damage, as she proceeded to find her way to the bar. Marzia had texted her to come down since the men were going to grab a drink. That would warrant just enough time for her to get everything ready for the infiltration. 

She pulled out the highchair and plopped herself down, her bag neatly hung under the bar on the little golden hooks. She smiled at the bartender and ordered herself a Negroni as she waited for some of the men to come down. When she was just about done with half of her drink, two men came down wearing nice shirts, both Armani branded  and took a look around the area. They whispered something to each other and sat down next to Artemisia, ordering themselves Whiskey Sours and then turning to the now blonde.

"La Signorina no vorrebbe un altro?" one of them asked, offering to pay for her drink.

"I'm sorry, I do not speak Italian." Artemisia said in a thick Australian accent.

"Permeso, I'm sorry madam. Would you like another one? No lady should be paying for her own drink." he said.

"Sure, after all, I am here on holiday." she said and happily took up the offer, giving a nice white smile.

"I see Italy has enticed you come here from the Down Under?" the other one spoke.

"Of course! Australia is so nice and wild but Italy just has this charm about it, it's so hard to describe." she replied.

"Italia has everything you could ever ask for; the food, the people, the ambiance. The only thing that's missing is your name?" he asked cheekily.

"I'm Jennifer, nice to meet ya." she said as she shook the man's hand. She followed suit with the other one. They were brothers, Carlo and Mario, obviously in more position of power in the group.

"Jennifer, such a beautiful name." Mario flirted, trying to catch Artemisia's eye. She grinned in response and swished her drink around.

"Oh I think there's a message for us at the front desk" one said as he pulled out his phone and shook it lightly.

"We'll be right back, bella." the other said as they got up to walk to the front desk.

Artemisia looked around, the bartender had just gone to the back for a moment and she took the opportunity to quickly open the vial in her ring and put in a drop of serum into each glass before going back to taking care of her drink. The serum was not poison, but more so a sedative that caused some memory loss. It was clear and a very small dose was enough to knock someone out. When the men came back, they instantly sat down, one on each side of her now, and took a generous sip of their drink. She grinned on the inside, such an easy trick. 

Some could say that poison was a woman's weapon; in Artemisia's case it was her least favorite option since she did enjoy the use of a good gun. It had her adrenaline pumping, a feeling she could not live without. It would be possible to consider Artemisia as a psychopath at times, her behavior was cold and she took a drop of joy with each kill she made. Although drugging someone was easy, Artemisia loved to fight. The only issue she had with fighting is that her small frame was somewhat of a disadvantage against perfectly fit men. 

She knew the serum would kick in within the next fifteen minutes so she had to work fast to get these men back to their room so that they could pass out in peace and go unnoticed. She started acting more flirty, giving into their jokes and compliments until one of them slipped his arm around her waist. She acted as if she welcomed the gesture but kept both men on their toes.

"You seem like a fun personality," Mario said in her ear as she smiled eagerly.

"I'm Australian, of course I'm fun! Of course we're wild." she said, winking at both.

It was a cheap move and she knew it, she felt disgusted with herself but she knew it was going to work. It could have easily been the alcohol speaking, right? So she let herself go and gave into their advances.

"Bella, how about we show you a good time?" Carlo whispered to her. She now had control over both men.

The men paid the bar and got out of their seats, each one of them taking a hand of hers. She reached for her bag and then they drunkenly walked towards the front of the hotel. She only had a few minutes until the drug knocked them out so she had to speed up her pace. She ran towards the lift, dragging the two men behind her and soon enough they were on their way to the twelfth floor. The way up was a sloppy handsy mess; both men were taking turns kissing her neck as she was making sure to not touch their lips with hers to avoid the serum and she was playing the part of a drunken Australian wanting a threesome.

The moment they entered the room, she pushed both of them onto the bed and excused herself to washroom, hoping they would be blacked out by the time she walked out. And sure enough, they were. She picked up her phone.

"I've got two, and you?" she said.

"I'm on the move." he replied and cut the signal.

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Hey Guys!

Spontaneously working on chapters; I am too busy with uni to be on any schedule and my creative juices are seemingly not that great but here's an update!
Like, comment and share!

xIng