[Keplaz]

Have noticed that there hasn't been much fan fiction lately so I decided to do a James Bond one. Don't try and compare it to Ian Fleming's Bond. You won't find very many similarities. Bond and all characters thus related Belong to MGM or to the estate of Mr Ian Fleming.

The Man From Dublin

The bird shot out of the building as if fired from a gun. It was a large bird, unusually so for its species, robust with a breast as red as blood. A robin. The man watched the bird as it soared in an odd fashion into the rapidly blackening sky before disappearing as if by magic into the night. Dark black clouds were swirling in the horizon, menacing storm clouds that threatened of rain. A frail moon, crippled and dim, emerged pathetically from its daytime refuge, mostly obscured by the impending storm. A ragged scar ran along the man's right cheek like a jagged piece of barbed wire, somewhat making his classic good looks rougher, sinister even but still devastatingly handsome. The cruel mouth was curled in a frown whilst the blue-grey eyes, piercing and cold were an unreadable mask.

Paint was peeling off the old door, which had creaked with a disconcertingly human shriek almost in slow motion, like a hundred year old tortoise in reverse. And the disused chapel was nearly twice as old as that. When they erected buildings in those days, they were made to last and even though this was one was falling apart, it had fared well for its age. Sun baked stone bricks were crumbling not unlike stale bread, one by one, leaving the once handsome face of the building looking like the teeth of an inept boxer. The roof was almost non-existent, the panels having been picked off by the merciless Gloucestershire winds. It had been a gradual process, this stripping off of paint, this aging and only the primer remained, a disgusting bottle green colour, the colour of vomit. A robin in the house was a sign of bad luck, a bad omen. But the man in the light blue handmade shirt didn't believe in omens. Every man made his own luck. He knew what he faced if he walked into the ruined chapel. He was walking into a trap with his eyes wide open, death lurked within the depths of the building. One way or another, someone was going to meet God in that church. He knew he didn't have to go in, but no one else deserved to die for his sins, the girl wasn't a part of this.

It had all began in Ireland, in a small pub just outside Cork. The bar table where Bond sat had solid round knots which looked like ugly human faces defacing its otherwise impeccable surface. It was solid mahogany, leather brown, well polished and devoid of any glass stains. There were coasters on almost every inch of the table. Bond was on only his second glass of Bourbon, he found that the pale liquid warmed his body and heightened his already spring coiled senses. He had seen two of them so far, one short, skinny with buck teeth and the limp of an artificial limb, the other solid, over six foot five, dark skinned and the ageless look of the permanently grinning. It was not a good look for him. The grin showing immaculate white teeth, each of them lined at the bottom with gold. Little and Large had come into the sparsely populated pub at least five times now. They had sat at a table not far from Bond's and had been staring at him intently with weakly disguised interest. Discretion was definitely not their specialty. The call to M's office had not been unexpected. Bond had been on an enforced period of rest after the occurrences at the Casino in Royales. He found the sudden lull of idleness annoying, frustrating even. He was not a man fond of inactivity. The conversation had been straight forward enough.

"I have a job for you 007." She had said, her wrinkled hands clasped in front of her.

"About time too mam' one more week with just May for company and I might have gone crazy."

"I am not usually too fond of your reckless way of doing things Bond. The job at Royales was simple enough but your talent for leaving a trail of bodies is yet to be surpassed."

Bond was beginning to feel uneasy and hot. M's office was air-conditioned and the weather was fairly cool but he had been on the receiving end of one of her hair dryer treatments only recently. He wasn't particularly looking forward to another one.

"However Bond, this job is right up your alley. His name is Danny O'Phee. He was a member of the Nutting Squad and is currently trying to head up a rogue faction of the IRA, one that doesn't adhere to the truce. We have had vigilantes like this before of course, but O'Phee's ruthlessness is legendary."

M's face was taut and her ice cool demeanour had gone down a few degrees. Green translucent nerves were throbbing manically in her aged forehead. Bond had rarely ever seen her like this.

"But we've had scares like this before mam', we've had Murphy, O'Hare, Donahue... they've all tried to resurrect the Nutting Squad or their own versions of it but nothing ever got anywhere."

"I am well aware of the facts 007. Thank you. This O'Phee is a different breed altogether. He already has a following and it gets worse Bond. He has been trying to get his hands on nuclear weapons. We have reason to believe he may have a small amount of weapons grade plutonium and if you read his file, he is not the kind of person you want to have such devices. What do you know about the Nutting Squad Bond?"

Bond cleared his throat and started regurgitating what he remembered.

"The Nutting Squad were the security department of the IRA. Their job was to maintain internal security within the IRA. They were part of the Provisional Irish Republic Army, the PIRA. They were known for their brutality and ruthlessness. They got the "Nutting Squad" nickname because they executed people through a bullet to the head."

"Very good, Bond. The Nutting Squad is meant to have been disbanded in 2005 when the PIRA laid down their arms and called the truce. O'Phee is trying to bring it back only even worse than before. He plans to extend its reach outside Northern Ireland and into the United Kingdom. We have reason to believe O'Phee carried out several assassinations through out the 1990s even that of 004 who was in deep cover at the time."

Bond could feel the blood rushing to his head. He had worked with 004 before. 004's remains had been posted to the Mi6 training centre near Vauxhall. He had been tortured, skin stripped off his body before being shot once in the head. Bond's face contorted into a grin causing the scar on his right cheek to appear even more jagged than usual.

"We want you to go to Ireland and bring O'Phee in." M paused, "By any means necessary."

Bond whistled.

M looked at him sharply.

"Remember where you are 007."

"Sorry Madam"

Even though 00's were licensed to kill, the order was rarely given. The "any means necessary" code was the kill order. In other words, he wasn't expected to bring in O'Phee he was expected to make sure he was never seen again, by any means necessary.

Bond had been given his mission dossier and dropped near Cork at the meeting point. He was to pose as a smuggler. A man who had dealings with the Russian Mafia and could supply O'Phee's organisation with the weapons they needed. All he had was his Walther PPK. He had an emergency homing device concealed in his left arm, only to be used in dire situations. If O'Phee realised what Bond was, he wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet in his head. But Bond didn't desire to fail, he believed in serving his country and all that rubbish but he had known 004. He hadn't even liked the guy but he had been one of them. Family.

Bond was wondering when Little and Large would make contact when another man, one Bond hadn't even noticed slid into the stool beside him. He was a slim man with snake eyes, tiny and pitch black. He had a thick bushy moustache, and the dangerous look of a man who wasn't afraid to die.

"Are you the guy?" he asked displaying crooked yellow teeth.

"Depends on who's asking." Bond said, taking another sip from his bourbon.

"O'Phee sent me." The man snarled.

"In that case, the name's Bond, James Bond."

[angel]

this is brilliant lol. im a big 007 fan my fave the world is not enough. anywayz this would be a cool film. who would play bond? excellent work

kel

[Phonoho]

Daniel Craig is Bond.

[angel]

i meant his choice phono mate

[Lubesh]

Originally Posted by Phonoho

Daniel Craig is Bond.

ha ha amzing u could get ajob as a stunt announcer...^ -.....that was impression of sean connery

[Keplaz]

Thanks for the nice comments. Arsenalelite, are you named after North London's finest by any chance? I didnt really have a Bond in mind when I wrote it. But Pierce Brosnan is my favourite and I'm torn between Goldeneye and Casino Royale for favourite Bond film.

[AnimeFreakGeek]

I enjoyed reading this! Nice desciprtions and word useage. Will there be more? ^_^