Art/animation assembled by the always amazing  Alfas! Praise his post HERE: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/43014522/

CHECK OUT THE OTHER SOND ANIMATION FROM ALFAS, HERE: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/39234409/

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Today is Thursday, September 23rd, and this is a ~Sssond-tember Sssinema Ssssupplement!~ - part of my countdown to 'No Time To Die'

It's been confirmed, No Time To Die is going to have its gala premiere in London AND be exhibited at the Zurich Film Fest on the same day: Tuesday September 28th. And so, I'm going to engage in a month of posting a piece of Sond writing with accompanying artwork, every Sunday, from now until then. Obviously, there will also be posts mid-week, like this one you're looking at now. :}===<

Only 5 days left!

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A sublime series of seconds in a stylish Sondian scene from 'Sssskyfall', wherein the clever constrictor creatively catches a carriage.

[ Source material: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=etn.....l=JamesBond007 ]

Below is the written version of the larger scene that surrounds the animated moment.

Also, the chase across Istanbul that led up to being on this train can be found here: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/24353518/

Enjoy! :}===<

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Dangers on a Train - an excerpt from 'Sssskyfall', transcribed by Amethystine

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Ames Sond set out after the escaping enemy as agent 'Windstorm' took command of the Rover.

Only moments ago, the code-named wolf-girl had been knocked off the top of the moving train by the hired thug. She was furious, having fought so hard to catch up to the escaping mercenary. He was out of her league, physically, and had tackled her clean off of the train. Luckily, Ames Sond had been in pursuit, and had been in position to catch her on the bonnet of his utility vehicle.

While the lower-level operative and the 00-agent got sorted, their target had lowered down to a open-air, flat-bed train car, laden with construction equipment, and a row of compact cars at the far end.

Once the woman had control of the Range Rover, Sond gave chase. He did so by extending his body up through the sunroof, then across onto the relatively low surface of the flatbed train-car. As he did so, he could see his prey, the bear in the silver suit, shimmying his way past a heavy-duty excavator whose long digger arm and scoop faced Sond.

Quickly, the constrictor glided forward, after the mammal. Sond pondered how much more train there was, before the bear would run out of metaphorical road. Windstorm had chased the ursine gun-for-hire a good distance along the rooftops of the train carriages, before he had stopped and confronted her on the last car before flatbed one would have slowed his escape.

Reaching the giant digger, Sond peeked around the equipment and snatched his head back behind it just before a hail of fully-automatic pistol fire rained down on him.

The bear had already climbed to the top of the next car, and that blasted Glock of his had a fresh, extended magazine locked and loaded.

Sond attempted a few potshots with his Walther, firing blind with his hand poked out around the side of the excavator's driver cabin. He had already used it a few times back in the bazaar, and found he was out of bullets. Turning to lean back on the front of the excavator, he looked at his gun's slide locked in the full-back position, and sneered at it.

'Useless,' he thought as he tossed it down on the rattling train floor, frustrated at being so out-gunned.

Turning around, he considered what he had been coiled up against - the giant machine that had been his cover for the last few moments.

Something occurred to him.

Risking another peek, the python spotted that his opponent was still standing atop the next car, clearly planning on stopping the snake in his tracks. But, the bear had noticed the lack of return fire, and was taking the time to reload.

Quickly, Sond slid up to the top of the operator's cabin, to look for a.. aha! A roof hatch! He yanked it open just in time to use it as a shield against a fresh barrage of bullets from ahead. Ames was just glad the hinges had been on the other side, allowing him to slink smoothly forward, pouring himself forward, under the metal hatch, while many more bursts of auto-pistol fire pinged off the impromptu shield.

The cabin was cramped, but there was just enough room for the flexible snake to bend his torso upright alongside the other portion of him that hung down into the small space. Further shots attempted to penetrate the cabin itself, and thick rounded dents sprang violently inward on the back wall of the cabin. Some of them punched into the python's scales where his body was pressed against the rear of the cockpit, making him hiss in pain.

'Better than being shot,' he reminded himself, as he looked over the controls, sorting out what did what while also searching for the starter.

The thug looked on, then his eyes widened as the excavator's engine sputtered to life.

Sond lifted the excavator's huge arm, its powerful hydraulics breaking the digger scoop free from the mooring chain that had been meant to hold it down, mid-transit. Most of the naga's long body remained dangling against the front of the cabin, meaning he dare not turn the machine's upper half around, atop the 360 pivot point. He would be completely exposed to the shooter.

Instead, he began backing it up, the huge tank-like treads shuddering to life and crawling over the flat-bed car.

"What's the situation?" demanded a firm female voice in Windstorm's ear. It was the voice of M, the head of MI6. The old roach-woman was directing the mission in sunny Turkey personally, albeit remotely, from a rather rainy London.

The treads of the digger began to bite into the side of the first of a row of VW Beetles in its way, crushing the nearest one as it climbed up the unfortunate vehicle.

The lycan, keeping pace with the train in the rover, answered. "Agent 00S is under fire, but is advancing," she said, not caring to detail the whole complex situation.

Her ears perked up as fresh shots rang out. The bear was shooting straight down, strangely. One could hear a maelstrom of bullets on metal, and all at once, there was a lurch of movement, best seen from afar.

Realization hit the demi-human, and she called to Sond, her voice transmitting to a radio concealed in the constrictor's collar. "Sond! He's uncoupling the train-cars!"

'Blast,' he muttered to himself as he trundled over the rounded roofs of the Volkswagens, and set in motion a half-formed plan. He had hoped he wouldn't need to, but he had used the last few seconds to formulate a way to turn the digger around.

Making the machine rotate to the left, the thick arm would provide cover for his body at first, but he had to move quickly, for that wouldn't last forever.

As the excavator twisted, he slipped more of his body into the already tight space, and opened the side door of the cabin, sliding some of his length into the space that would be shielded by the open metal door.

All the while, more loud reports came from nearby as bursts of automatic pistol peppered the excavator's cabin. Ricochets pinged off of the digger arm and grazed the snake's scales, causing him to hiss and squirm his length in pain.

And yet, He would not stop, could not stop. He knew the other train car was slowly beginning to pull away, and the section of the train he was on would be left to drift to a stop while the rest receded into the distance.

As Sond had nearly turned the full 180 degrees, he finished sliding his tail in through the over-head hatch into the cabin, and was beginning to shift more and more out the side door, so it could rest safely fully behind the cockpit.

But now the front of it was becoming exposed, and an extended spray came from the bear, determined to hit something.

Although some shots were blocked by the grille of metal bars over the digger's front window, others crashed through the glass, before the snake could slam himself sideways, into a corner that would most readily be blocked by the raised digger scoop that was swinging into place, outside.

Just before the scoop saved his life, Ames' body was thrown backward by a bullet impacting his right shoulder, causing him to shudder violently, all of his form tightening, his coils squirming and constricting involuntarily. As the shock faded and the pain began, blood seeped outward into the pristine whiteness of his shirt, the stain half hidden under the lapel of his suit jacket. He nearly lost focus and let his tail outside the digger cabin slip onto the rolling treads of the machine.

Clenching his jaw, Sond forced himself to remain on mission: He shoved the controls forward.

The excavator moved forward slightly faster, while the scoop extended forward a touch more. The giant arm looked like it was reaching toward the bear, who had finally expended his supply of ammo, throwing down his gun and retreating.

Sond could see he was about to run out of space for driving forward while the gap between the next carriage and the flatbed one had grown to roughly 20 feet. Finally, he slammed the scoop down, its sharp teeth punching downward into the thin rooftop of the train-car.

The passengers within were suitably shocked to find fearsome claws tearing through the ceiling above their heads.

No longer was the gap between cars growing quite so fast, as the mechanical arm clung to the roof.

But little by little, the top of the next carriage was being ripped open, the metal below and behind the scoop's impact was buckling - as if the passenger car was being ripped open by a relentless monster, wanting the 'treats' inside.

Up Sond sprang, shoving the overhead hatch open to slither upward, onto the top of the cabin for a half-moment, before gliding onto the digger's arm, hurrying forward as fields flowed past on one side, trees on the other.

The side-walls of the back end of the passenger car were beginning to rip apart under the immense strain caused by the weight of so many cargo cars in the rear of the train. The back end of the train was a long line of dead weight while the locomotive ahead continuously and unknowingly pulled the forward areas ahead and away. The only thing keeping it all together was the compromised metal roof and weak wooden walls of that one carriage.

Terrible was the sound of the screeching, ripping metal and cracking wood.

Sond paused on the top of the digger scoop, gauging the jump beyond, coiling up quickly--!

He pounced forward, into the darkness of the hole in the roof.

All at once, the entire back wall of the passenger car fell away, as the naga's long body flowed in a long arcing path that carried it onto an open spot of floor. All of the people within the car had fled to the front of the car, and watched as this strange man fell from the sky.

Sond's belly, just a few feet below his chest, hit the floor with a thudding slap that continued as the rest of him piled up fast, into a series of loops on the train's floor, all while he lifted his torso back up again. With the back wall gone, he was silhouetted by the sun shining in behind him, and the dust kicked up by the destruction all around.

His arms had been held down along his sides, to keep from scraping along the jagged edges of the hole in the roof, but now they swung up again, immediately and instinctively straightening his cuffs.

Before he was even finished with the realignment of his shirt and jacket sleeves, as he began to slither forward once more, tugging his suit jacket forward so it rested on his frame properly once more.

"00S, are you alright?" M asked, having only heard the tremendous sound of it all, with no idea of the chaos unfolding.

"Jussst changing carriages," Sond gruffly stated, slithering through the sea of surprised faces - the train passengers, who had witnessed his entrance into their midst.

Unsatisfied, M pressed, "What's going on? Report!"

Windstorm spoke up, "It's rather hard to explain, ma'am. Double-oh-ess is still in pursuit."

She said as much as she was forced to divert from being alongside the train, as the road she was on curved away from the tracks, thanks to a hill. The train had a tight tunnel into which it was vanishing, while the lycan followed the road that curved partially up and somewhat around the steepest portions of the lifting landscape.

-

In the next car forward, Sond paused to check on his bullet wound. He tested his arm movement, finding it a bit limited. Mostly, he scowled at the state of his shirt, the blood having spread even further. Considering that he should probably stop and dress the wound, or put pressure on it, he grimaced and pressed on. There was no time for that, all that mattered was recovering the hard-drive that the bear had stolen. The python pulled his suit jacket to more readily cover the spreading patch of crimson, his eyes glaring forward.

His smooth forward slide had already resumed, and he moved through the next door, outside once more, between train cars, in the darkness of the tunnel.

-

"Looks like there isn't much more road," Windstorm stated to the elderly but hardy insect woman, over the radio, while she mounted a ridge that looked out over a train bridge.

She had been driving for another minute after the dirt road had peeled away from the train and gone over the hill. Down the other side, she had caught glimpses of the lengthy conveyance through the trees, on some ground that lay above the lowlands she found herself speeding over. Flashes of forms had been glimpsed through the branches whipped past: There were two figures atop the train, fighting.

The junior agent had sped on, racing forward to find another area where the tracks and the road ran parallel once more.

Now, the range rover had gotten ahead of the train, which was in another tunnel. Windstorm found herself up on a ridge, overlooking a huge drop into a river, far below. "I don't think I can go any further."

A train bridge extended from one tunnel to another before her, and it was only slightly below her elevation. It, too, was built high above the raging river below.

The wolf-ish woman pulled up to a fast stop as her road ran out, near the mouth of the north end tunnel, knowing that the train would soon emerge from the tunnel to the south, and slowly curve toward her.

An accurate marksman rifle with scope already affixed was in her hand as she rushed to take position, kneeling down on the edge of the end of the road - the cusp of where the land fell away below her.

Her earlier bravado had faded, the glint in her eyes replaced with concern for her fellow agent.

Almost as soon as she had taken aim down through her scope, the train's locomotive surged forth, out of the tunnel.

After another moment of Windstorm's tense observation of the empty roofs rolling out of the darkness, there they were.

A twisting, writhing scaly form appeared, before the thick mammalian body that was attempting to strangle Sond to death.

"I see them - I was right - Still fighting - Top of the train," the gold-haired girl reported to home office, in clipped phrases.

Through the scope, she could see Ames break away from the bear and quickly bound back on his coils into a pouncing punch that saw the serpent's whole body streaming past the thick mammal's form. The woman wished that would be the end of it, but the strong ursine refused to go down.

The hard drive he had, it had been stolen from MI6's 'Station T', their office in Istanbul, Turkey. It contained the details of all embedded undercover agents in eastern Europe, and would put into jeopardy the lives of all the many operatives outlined within.

One bullet could put a stop to all that, the young field agent knew. She gripped the rifle harder, toe-claws flexing on the ground, scraping through dirt and rocks. If only Sond was responding, she would tell him to get down, to let her shoot the bastard. His radio must have been damaged.

As the fight continued, the men on the train slid out of the distance, getting slowly closer to her position on the ridge above the bridge.

Several times, her finger on the trigger-guard tensed, thinking she should be able to just snap off a shot, and end this.

"I may have a shot.." she began, to M.

Over and over, the large pythonaga unknowingly moved in front of her cross-hairs, shielding the bear she was aiming for.

"..it's not clean. Repeat, I do not have a clean shot."

Windstorm was at a loss, her voice unsure. If she had known the best course of action, she would have taken it already.

M finally spoke up, "Can you get into a better position?"

"No, there's no time, there's a tunnel ahead of them, I'm gonna lose them!" she shouted over the blaring sound of the approaching train's horn.

A pause on the line.

"Take the shot," ordered M.

Windstorm shifted just a touch more forward, her body tensing, rising up in her kneeling position, eye all the closer to her scope, finger sliding onto the trigger itself.

Just one last bit of pressure, was all she needed.

By now, the two men were close enough that the young agent could see both their faces clearly. She saw the snake's snout, his neck straining, his arms trapped in the bear's strong grip, his long body marred by various claw wounds. He moved in an out of the centre of her cross-hairs as they struggled together, the snake's repeated attempts at forcing his opponent into crushing coils causing them to rotate in place, positions swapping over and over.

Having heard no sound of gunfire from her field agent, the roach repeated: "I said, take the shot."

"I can't! I may hit Sond!"

"Take the bloody shot!"

Over the radio, M heard Windstorm fire.

For a long moment, there was nothing more.

Behind her, on the tall windows that overlooked the river Thames, she could hear rain beating the glass.

And then a quiet regretful voice reported: "Agent down."

-

Agent Windstorm had hit the python thanks to the ongoing struggle.

The naga's torso had tumbled backward, off the train.

His legless body had trailed after him in a long straight line, plunging into the ravine below the bridge.

Lifeless.

-

As M turned to gaze out the window and ponder her actions, the voice on the radio repeated: "00S is down."


{ Thus begins.. Sssskyfall }


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Amethystine/Ames Sond 00S © to Amethystine

James Bond 007 and related IP © to Ian Fleming, Albert R Broccoli's EON Productions/DANJAQ Ltd. and MGM

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