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The three figures lay in a tumbled mess in the snow. The remains of black SUV’s and the hulking shell of a damaged plane lay burnt and scattered around them. Bond screwed his eyes shut briefly, it had been a very nearly, close shave, that. While he had been trying to convince Mr. White’s daughter, Dr. Swann to help them, Q, bloody Q had walked into the Hoffler Klinik vibrating with a desperation to tell Bond all the extra time had blown up in their faces.
“M wants my balls on his Christmas tree. We go and we go now!” Q had hissed at him.
Bond pressed the ring he had taken from Mr. Sciarra into Q’s hand and pleaded for more time. Time to convince the good Doctor to help him and for Q to investigate the ring’s provenance. He’d left Q at the bar, open mouthed as he ran back up the stairs two at a time, trying to speak to Dr. Swann once more around the security guards she’d called in.
“You’re on a fool’s mission,” she said. Her eyes sad and voice empty. “And he’s just the first victim of your mission.” Bond turned to follow where her finger was pointing.
“Q! No!” Bond left Dr. Swann, instead focused on the group of men dragging the Quartermaster out of the steel and glass clinic. M was going to be pissed. He dashed outside and growled at the impotence he felt, when he found himself unable to take a shot due to all the innocent bystanders, and the way in which Q was held, blocking his target. Bond let out an expletive in frustration. “Shit.”
“Come with me!” Dr. Swann yelled and zipped on past him, her blond hair flying out behind her. “Come on, follow me! I know a shortcut. I hope you can fly!”
Bond was a half second after her, he grinned when he saw the vehicle she had in mind. “I hope you don’t get airsick.”
----
Dr. Swann groaned as she rolled over and off of Q. Where she tackled him to the ground, out of the way of gunfire. “You stupid man.”
“Hey!” Q exclaimed as he rose shakily from the snow, blood dripping from a jagged cut along his temple, coating his cheek in bright red. “I’ll have you know-”
“Not you, him.” Dr. Swann pointed to Bond. “You put everyone in danger.”
“Me?” Bond asked, sitting up, pretending he didn’t hear all of his bones creak from the effort. He dragged himself over to Q, ignoring Dr. Swann. “You’re alright, Q, it’s just a scratch.” He wiped the blood off of Q’s head and pressed his thumb against the cut. “You might actually get a scar out of this to show off to all the other boffins. He nudged at Q’s shoulder, pulling at the strap of his laptop. “The ring, do you still have it?”
“Yes,” Q said breathlessly as he tried to straighten himself out. “Yes, get off, I can do this.”
“Yes you, James. You went to see my father, you came here, he came here. Did you ever stop to think that they might be following you? That they’ll take everything away from you?” She pointed at Q as she threw question after question at Bond. “This organization, this...” Her voice trailed off, as if she voiced the name, the bodies would come back to life. Ghosts that would haunt her. She shook her head. “They take your whole life from you and leave you with nothing.”
“Come on, we’re getting off this mountain.” Bond marched forward, the snow crunching under his feet, practically dragging Q with him. He reached out to snag Dr. Swann to get her moving too.
“Oh good,” Q said, “which vehicle are we going to steal now?” Bond eyed him carefully, it sounded a little like Q was about to drop into hysterics or his angry humor was about to come out and eat his face.
Dr. Swann ducked Bond’s grasp and swung around. She planted her feet wide and braced herself for a fight. “I’m not going with you. I’m going back to the clinic and I’m getting as far away from you as I can.”
Bond made a dismissive gesture in the air with his hand. “No, this isn’t up for debate, we go, now and you will help us find this L’american. Q can pull up all the databases and facial recognition software from any system in the world. You just have to I.D. them. Stop shaking your head, let’s go!”
“I’m not going with you. You don’t need me.” Dr. Swann drooped, she looked defeated as she spoke. “The organization you seek, it’s called SPECTRE, and L’american isn’t a person. It’s a hotel, in Tangier. You don’t need me for any of this. There, I’ve told you everything I know, just go.” Dr. Swann’s marched past them, but she was jerked to a halt as Bond grabbed her arm.
“Stop. Let go!” She struggled briefly, until a slim white card was placed in her hand.
Bond shook her arm lightly, trying to catch her eye. “Call this number. He’s a friend that can help you disappear. It’s easier to get lost in America, and thank you.”
She blew a strand of hair out of her face. “You may not thank me, after you find what you think you’re looking for.” She tucked the card in her pocket. “Good luck.”