The bullet entered her hip and she winced at the pain. She held the scream back as she felt a warm, sticky liquid run down her skirt as another gun goes off. She braced herself for the pain that was sure to come.

"M?" James shouted.

"James?" She hobbled around the splintered wood, "He got me." He was by her side in an instant, examining the wound.

"We need to get you to a hospital, now. Let's go get Kincade before the second wave arrives."

"Second wave? Wasn't the first bad enough?"

"He isn't here." For an instant, sheer terror was displayed on M's face. "We need to get you to a hospital. Now." She nodded at him; the pain was increasing by the second.

Without asking for her approval James picked M up like she was weightless and headed through to the next room.

"Kincade, go around the back, take the old Bentley. It's in one of the outhouses." He handed M over to Kincade, who lifted her with one hand and James threw a pair of keys at him which he caught swiftly as he headed through the priest hole and turned left, leading the way to the outhouse.

"James built this tunnel you know?" Kincade watched the cave ahead.

"Really?" M whispered, too weak to speak much louder.

"Yep, the priest hole was already here but he added this in himself to get to the cars. He dug it just after his parents died."

M looked back down the tunnel, waiting for James to appear with the usual gun in hand and blood on shirt, which he would wipe off just before something blew up. That was what always happened.

Kincade noticed how worried M was for her agent. "He'll be fine; he always is. The only thing we need to focus on, Emma, is getting you to the hospital with no one noticing."

"That's going to be impossible." M muttered as Kincade buckled her in the passenger seat of the old Bentley. Just as Kincade climbed into the drivers seat M heard a helicopter whirring somewhere above the front of the house.

Then she heard an explosion that rocked the stone building, she watched as the house went up in flames.

"Where the bloody hell is James?"

James pulled the gas tanks into the middle of the room once M and Kincade had disappeared through the tunnel. "Come and get me, Tiago!" He shouted before running into the tunnels that he could barely fit through anymore. He easily found the one that led to a very convenient patch of heather where he could shoot from a distance. He watched as the house went up in flames. Not even paying attention, he pulled out his father's hunting rifle and flattened out in the heather, just like his father used to. He pulled the trigger and watched as it entered the back of the last remaining wing man, leaving just him and Silva. But he had the advantage; he knew these moors better than anyone, even Kincade. He ducked into another tunnel as Silva spun around and shot randomly, using most of his remaining bullets. Bond was getting low too. He reached into his pocket and felt some satisfaction as he ran his thumb along the rusty blade of the knife. The tunnel emerged just behind the wreck of his beloved Aston. Silva would pay for that in blood.

He purposefully grunted and rolled behind the remains, exposing the tip of his shoe for a millisecond.

Silva grunted and threw the gun down. He screamed as he walked over to where he thought Bond was hiding, his cloak dramatically billowing out behind him.

James came out of the tunnel behind Silva's legs, effortlessly pulling the man to the ground as he crawled out of the tunnel.

"James, how nice of you to drop in." Silva let out a groan as Bond's fist met unceremoniously with his cheek bone.

"She's gone! The gig's up; she's not here." James' shoe made contact with the man's shoulder bone, pinning him to the ground.

Silva watched with fear as James took the shining blade out of his pocket and pressed it against his neck, making a small trickle of blood run down his pale skin.

"You'll never see her again, Tiago." Silva let out a moan of pain but James' gaze was unforgiving.

"What did you think you could ever get out of this? You couldn't have killed her." He put more pressure on the knife.

"I wasn't going to kill her physically, James. What do you take me for? No, I was going to kill her from the inside, make her regret it, all of it."

"You disgust me, Silva." James took the knife from Silva's neck and pulled the gun out of his pocket. He headed down the tunnel as he pulled the trigger, ending this whole game of cat and mouse.

He emerged from the tunnel moments later.

"Why haven't you left yet?" He ran to the car and jumped into the drivers' seat.

"You think either of us are in any state to drive, 007? I'm trying to stop the blood flow and he can't drive." James looked disbelievingly at the two of them before putting the car into gear and pushing the accelerator down.

After a while James looked to M. "He's dead." She nodded as another burst of pain hit.

"Ow. How far to the hospital?"

James kept his gaze straight ahead and pointed to a sign that read "Hospital" M nodded as James pulled into a parking space by the A&E department. He nodded to Kincade who lifted her out of the car and headed inside behind James.

M was immediately put onto a stretcher and rushed into the hospital. James sat down next to Kincade in the waiting room and put his feet up on the table; preparing for a long wait.

A few days later M had recovered and was standing on top of a London building looking across at the view. James crept up behind her but she still turns around with tears in her eyes.

James' face immediately goes from smiling to worry. "What's wrong?" He whispers gently and comfortingly like a son to his mother.

"He's dead. Because of me. I left him to the Chinese and they tortured him. He became a monster because of my decision."

"No, it wasn't your fault; you made a decision that was best for the country. He knew what he was getting himself into when he signed up to the Secret Service. He turned into that because it was lurking inside him all along. You couldn't have prevented what happened. You can't regret your decisions. It's unprofessional." He looked into her eyes and saw that she understood; he stood next to her and watched the shiny cars drive through the streets.

He watched as a rat ran across the side of the building. He watched it and then, when it left.

"Last rat standing."