Disclaimer: I still do not own James Bond. :-( But I wish I did!

This is the last chapter, as I realized that I could make this fit in seamlessly with the beginning of the Quantum of Solace trailer! As a matter of fact, I used some of the dialogue from the trailer (which I do NOT own, obviously). There will be a few things that don’t match up, I suppose, but I did the best I could! This has been a fun story to write, and I just want to say thanks to all those who have waited so patiently for the conclusion!

The blades of the helicopter whirred, their motion scattering the falling rain. James set down carefully on the nondescript roof and sat back, stretching. His shoulder still ached from the task of loading Standing’s corpse, and he wanted nothing more right now than a hot shower and some sleep. Just as he was unbuckling the straps of his harness, he heard a knock on the window. He turned to see M, standing under a massive umbrella – her lips pursed, eyes narrowed. Hiding a smile at the fury etched on her face as she took a step back, Bond opened the door and climbed gingerly out of the helicopter. She softened for an instant as she took stock of his injuries, but they weren’t enough to stop her heated exclamation.

“What the hell took you so long?” Villiers stepped up to Bond, offering him an open umbrella. He took it gratefully, and they headed inside.

“Standing knew I was coming. He was waiting for me.” James could almost see the wheels in her head turning as she processed the new information. “When I escaped, I took Standing to a nearby safe house. I wasn’t in shape to travel far at the time.” It was as good an excuse as any. M would never have approved if he told her the truth – that he had wanted to question Standing privately. “When I woke up this morning, he was dead. All traces of the intruder had been washed away in the rain.”

M remained silent for a moment. “Was he killed with your gun?” Anyone else might have thought she was accusing him, but Bond knew better. She wanted to make sure no one was framing him for the murder of an unarmed prisoner – Bond had a motive, after all.

“No. Different caliber. And I had my gun with me all night.” M nodded, then raised an eyebrow.

“The body?”

“In the helicopter.”

“Good.” They had arrived at her office. M paused at the door. “Bond… We’ve reached a bit of a wall with Mr. White. He’s hasn’t said anything useful beyond Standing’s name.”

“Have you tried coercion?”

“Everything but shooting his other knee.” Bond hid a smile.

“I could get him to talk.”

“As a matter of fact, that’s just what I was getting to. I have a feeling that seeing you alive and well – and here – might just shake him up a bit. You could always make it seem like Standing told you everything – White might be interested in saving his own skin if that were the case.”

“I won’t need to bluff. Standing did tell me everything he knew.” M just stared at him, waiting. “Unfortunately it wasn’t much. Though he did say it was likely that the organization had members in MI6. We have to be careful who we let White talk to.”

“Of course,” M said, nodding. “So, would you like some time to freshen up, or do you want to see White right away?”

“I’ll need a few minutes,” Bond replied, tugging off his sling. “It won’t rattle White too much if I show up looking like this.”

“I agree. Come back here when you’re ready.”

“Will do.”

xXx

Three quarters of an hour later, Bond found himself outside interrogation room that held White and two guards. He had changed into a neatly pressed suit, using makeup to hide the visible bruises. M stood with him by the door.

“Are you armed?” she asked.

“No.”

“Do your best not to hurt him again.”

He stared at the door. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

M turned the handle and they entered. The room was sparsely furnished, and Bond made a beeline to one of the free chairs, some twenty feet away from White. Reminding himself not to use his left arm, he dragged it closer to the man and sat down. White showed no hint of surprise when he saw him, and Bond decided he would let White do all the talking, for now. The silence didn’t last long.

“I was always very interested to meet you. I’d heard so much about you from Vesper.” Bond’s face was frozen – White would find no emotion there. “If she hadn’t killed herself, we would have had you, too.”

That didn’t stop you from trying, James thought. White was trying to throw him off balance by bringing up Vesper’s death, and he had had enough. “Are you going to tell us who you work for?”

“The first thing you should know about us is that… we have people everywhere.”

“I know,” Bond said simply. White looked at him intensely – trying to gauge how much he knew. James decided to dangle a carrot in front of him. “Standing told me.”

White’s poker face was intact. “How is Miles?”

“Dead.”

“Ah… Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. And how did you two get along?”

“Rather well,” Bond countered.

“Did you have a nice chat?”

“Yes. It was rather informative.”

The proverbial poker game continued in much the same way for another hour. Each man was keeping their cards close to the vest, screening the enemy for telltale signs or twitches. But when M finally called a halt on the interrogation, neither one was any closer to their objectives. Bond followed her out of the room, speaking only once the heavy door had slammed shut.

“Give me five minutes with him – alone. He’ll talk.”

“How gullible do you think I am, Bond? I know exactly what will happen if I leave you alone with him. He may very well tell you what you want to know, but how can I be sure that what you want to know and what I need from him are the same thing?” She shook her head.

“We want the same thing,” he said.

“No,” she answered. “I think you want revenge. And I think you don’t care who you have to kill along the way to get it.”

“I want to finish the job I started. The job you ordered me to do.”

M crossed her arms. “All right. If you want to follow orders, I’m ordering you on leave.” Bond opened his mouth to protest, but she raised a hand, cutting him off. “You need to heal from your injuries. You’re no good to me like this. Go home, Bond.” He stared mutely at her. “Report back to my office in two weeks.” He nodded, not trusting his voice – she would hear his frustration. Bond turned to leave, mentally relaxing his right hand; it had balled into a fist. “And, Bond?” He turned back, and she glanced at his left arm. “I’m not going to replace the implant just yet. I want to believe I can trust you to do as I ask. Get some rest – see a doctor. Report to me in two weeks.”

“Ma’am.” He turned and walked brusquely for the elevator. He hated lying to M, but there was no way he could let this go. White would talk.

One way or another.

The End!

I’m sure none of this is going to fit in with the new movie, but I tried!

Thanks for reading! Please leave a review if you liked it. Or even if you didn’t. ;-)