A spoof of James Bond's ilk: villains, weapons, evil plots, and more! (Honorable Mention)
|IT HAD TO HAPPEN
Harvey Bond had established his cover well. He had become a highly respected member of the terrorist group he had been assigned to infiltrate. The information he needed was being saved to a flash drive hidden in his lapel pin, which he had connected to the back of the Command Center’s main computer. All he had left to do was get the needed information to HQ and destroy all other traces of it. Not a problem for Harvey Bond.
Harvey took off his hat to do the final job as the last bits of information were being saved. He peeled off the seal on the lining of his hat and removed the small but adequate supply of plastic explosives he had hidden in the top. He placed it neatly on the back of the computer screen. Next, he removed his calculator watch. Entering the coded "0226+13=1001001," he switched it to timer mode. He set the timer for two hours, plenty of time to leave before the explosion. When he hit "=" again, the back of the watch popped off, revealing the tiny electrodes on coiled copper wires that would detonate the bomb. He carefully slid the ends into the plastique and hit the side button, starting the timer.
As he straightened up, the door burst open. "Gahrds! Seeze him!" Bond put his hands in the air as several armed soldiers poured through the small doorway. "You tink you are so shmart, Meester Bond. But ve vill see who laughs last. Take his veapon and trow him into his cell!" Harvey slowly and calmly drew his gun from the left side of his coat. Colonel Szaro smirked with delight as he snatched the weapon dangling from between Harvey’s thumb and forefinger.
“What now, Colonel?” Bond inquired suavely. A guard slapped him on the side of the head for speaking, but Harvey didn’t flinch.
“Vit you, I must decide. Dere are so many tinks I can try, so many possibilities. In your case, I cannot let you die vitout someting special.”
“And then on with your little plans?”
“My leetle plans? Meester Bond, surely you do not understand dah capabilities of my group, dah magnitude of ahr reach.”
Bond raised an eyebrow. “Should I?”
“You are to die soon. I vill enlighten you. Please, sit down.” Szaro gestured to the chair at the computer. A guard rolled the chair to Harvey, and three men forced him down into it. They turned him to face a paneled wall and leveled their rifles at Bond’s head. Colonel Szaro waited until all were still, then he took a remote control from his pocket and, with great aplomb, pushed the large red button at the top.
The wall parted, revealing a giant floor-to-ceiling screen at least three meters wide. It was dominated by a map of the world and surrounded by boxes of various sizes displaying an array of data, some of it updating continuously. Harvey sat expressionless at first as he took in and memorized the data, which was not moving nearly fast enough for him to struggle to fit into his long-term memory. However, for the Colonel’s sake, after a few moments he feigned amazement.
“This is indeed an extensive operation,” nodded Bond.
“Of course. I vould have noting less. Dere are many who are villing to pay me for dah vork dey vill not do. As you can see, my men, and in some cases my vomen, ahr spread across the globe, ready to follow my ahrders. Vee vill brink fear to da vorld!”
“How can you operate without being discovered?”
“It is qvite simple, really. Ve do not live in dah cities ve plan to attack. Ve find nearby cities for our base, den vork from dere. No one suspects us.
“Yes, tank you, it is very brilliant. Look here on dah map.” The Colonel took a small laser pointer from his shirt pocket, lighting each point on the map as he spoke. “Ve vill hit London from Bristol, Paris from Orleans, Madrid from Salamanca, Amsterdam from Rotterdam—I’ve always had trouble confusink dose two names, Rotterdam and Amsterdam—den Athens vill be hit from Volos, and Moscow out of Tver. Stockholm vill receive a strike out of Orebro, and ve vill use dynamite in honor of Sweden's Meester Nobel, who invented it. I tought dat vas a nice touch, don’t you tink?”
“Yes. Movink on!” Colonel Szaro strode over to the other side of the map. “America, she is so big, ve need more dan one strike, you see. We do dah same wit Vashington, San Francisco, New York, Houston, and Chicago. Los Angeles is so big, ve cannot work outside dah city witout livink in Phoenix, so ve stay dere.”
“Is that all?”
“No, it is not. Hong Kong and Singapore, ve also must live in dah city, because vere else is dere? Ve are lookink to expand to New Delhi, Sydney, Rio de Janiero, and perhaps Taipei.” The colonel stopped and faced Bond directly. “And, of course, ahr station in Ouagadougou.”
“Dat is correct. Yes.”
Bond found himself genuinely confused, for the first time since giving up celebrity tabloids. “Why there?”
“I simply love dah name of dat place. It is such a shame dat it is hidden from the vorld as the capitol of Burkina Faso. But tink, Meester Bond: how many of my enemies can even find Ouagadougou on dah map, much less discover my operations dere?”
“And all of this is to cause fear and terror around the world?”
“Of course. You are correct, Meester Bond.”
“But why do you do it? To control the planet? Extort Western nations?”
Szaro paced back and forth in front of the giant screen. “I have no purpose such as dose. I live to spread fear and terror. Dose who pay me, dey haf dere reasons. I do not care about dere reasons. I vork because I enjoy destruction. I never dreamed I could have a job that I love to do like this. Much like you, Meester Bond?”
“In a way. However, I can’t agree with your choice of, well, co-workers. Surely working with them is a strain?”
“Your compassion for me is touchink. I choose to vork vit dose I vill not miss when dey die. It is a cruel business I vork in, you see. But on da screen I vill show you who works for me. I show everytink: names, false names dey use, pictures, addresses, families, shoe size, and favorite dessert. I must know my vorkers, no?”
“Certainly.” Harvey slowed his memorization to pick out the most, shall we say, relevant information.
“Enough! I am a very busy man, and you are not! Gahrds, take him to a safe place until I decide his time is done. Now!” Szaro slapped the remote on his palm and turned away to watch the paneled wall close. His posture betrayed utter glee.
Szaro’s men violently jerked Harvey down to the prison area and threw him into a cell, spewing profanities and threats as they went. Harvey knew each one by name, and there were none he cared to know. These people idolized the Colonel and his ways of murder and money. They always talked tough, but they couldn't shoot straight to save their lives. The only reason they ever hit anything is that they carried full automatic weapons and it isn't too hard to hit something when you spray a hundred bullets in the general direction of a target. With people like these, the thought of having to kill them just didn't seem all that bad.
How could they be so stupid? They didn't even search me, Harvey thought. He coolly began to calculate his escape plan in the small barred cell. He noticed the two patrolling guards both passed his cell about every five minutes, while the two that stood guard over him never left. He waited for the patrol to arrive and then went to work.
"Hey, you! Come here!" came a voice from the empty corner on the opposite side of the room.
The guards looked quizzically at each other, wondering where the voice came from.
"Hey, ugly! Whatcha lookin' at?" This time the voice was from a different corner. It bounced around the entire room, insulting the guards as it went. Soon all attention was focused on the voice. All, that is, except Harvey's. He continued to use his superior ventriloquism skills as he slid back the panel on the heel of his right shoe. He cautiously plucked out the four darts contained within the miniature casing, always wary of the bluish tinge on the tips. He quickly threw all four at the guards, each landing directly on a guard's neck. They felt the light pinch of the darts, but by that time, it was much too late. Within seconds, they all collapsed to the floor, dead.
That nerve poison works perfectly, Harvey thought. He waited a few moments to be sure his jailers were fully deceased. Then he slid back his left heel and removed the lock pick set. It took him no time at all to open the crude lock on his cell. When he left, he removed the darts and replaced them in their slots in his right heel, leaving virtually no evidence of his escape.
Harvey peered out the small window leading to the main hallway. He saw one guard on the right of the door. Harvey officially strode out, straightening his tie as he passed through the doorway.
"Hey! Stop!" The guard grabbed Harvey on the shoulder.
Harvey spun around with incredible speed and slashed the guard across the throat. The guard gurgled in his own blood for a few seconds, then grew limp and pale as he sank to the floor.
Harvey wiped the flat knife clean on the dead soldier's pants and slipped it back into its sheath inside his tie. As he thought about where to go next, four more soldiers appeared from around the corner. They saw their dead comrade on the floor and began to fire at Bond. Harvey ducked into a doorway under a shower of bullets and shattering bricks and drew his pistol from his right shoulder. He hadn't surrendered that gun. He pulled the slide back, let it snap back into place with a loud, satisfying CHINK!, curled his arm around the corner, and fired. He dropped those four with four shots, but more soldiers came and joined the fray. Soon twelve guards crowded the passageway, all blindly firing AK-47's at a cool Harvey. He took every chance he had to come around and shoot, always hitting his target perfectly. He reloaded with spare ammunition clips strapped to his lower legs. But he knew he could not last in the doorway forever. He needed to escape.
Harvey loaded his gun with his last clip and pulled a package of cigarettes from his pocket. He peeled the top away without spilling a speck of the flash powder inside. He took off his Cambridge class ring and turned the stone in the center a quarter turn to the right. A faint ticking was heard as the timer marked the fifteen seconds. At the last possible moment, Harvey threw the pack of cigarettes down the hall at his attackers and shielded himself against the doorframe. The bomb exploded right in front of them. Harvey jumped out and ran backwards down the debris-filled, bullet-ridden hallway, firing into the acrid cloud of dust and smoke as he went.
Harvey squeezed off two more rounds as he ran down this hall, killing two more guards. He darted down the next hall toward the Command Center. So much for a quiet escape. Soon his supply of ammunition was depleted. He moved as quickly as he could to the Command Center, but saw from down the hall it was well protected. Then one of the guards spotted Harvey, calling out an order to fire. Harvey slipped the throwing knives strapped to his forearms and flung them one by one at the gunmen. All four hit right on target, as usual, but there were too many troops left. Harvey had to find a way to distract them long enough to get the information he needed to complete his mission.
He got an idea. Harvey took off down the hall toward the installation's power generator. Thanks to his photographic memory, he had memorized a detailed map of the installation and knew precisely where to go. When he nearly arrived, he slowed down and peered around the corner. Only one guard protected the entrance to the power controls, and he could not possibly have heard about Harvey's capture or escape yet.
Harvey decided to take the chance, calmly walking to the door. The soldier stood ready, for he had heard the exchange of gunfire, and he eyed Harvey carefully. Harvey straightened the collar on his suit jacket, discreetly slipping his fingers into the rings hidden under the collar, and then lashed out at the guard with both hands. The choke cord caught the guard squarely around the throat. Harvey twisted the cord tight around the guard's neck. The soldier struggled for almost a minute before going limp.
Harvey quickly changed into the dead soldier's uniform coat. He took his driver's license from his wallet and slipped it into the card decoder on the lock. After a few seconds, the computerized card had established entry rights for Harvey and the latch clicked open. Harvey slipped inside, leaving the door slightly open behind him. By the clock on the wall, he had less than half an hour to escape before the bomb exploded.
He took the old pennies from his penny loafers and set them on the table. Next, he untangled the ultra-thin electrical wiring from his hair and twisted it around the pennies. Then, using part of his lock pick set as screwdrivers, he removed the panels to the two main fuse boxes. He quickly but carefully studied every detail of the wiring scheme, finding exactly the connection point in each box that he needed. Using two pencils like chopsticks to keep himself from being electrocuted, he slipped one penny into the proper point in the first box and, with shielded eyes, put the second penny into the wiring of the other. A brilliant display of dancing sparks illuminated the room, then everything went black. It worked. Harvey had shorted out the entire complex.
Luckily, Harvey could see in the dark much better than most people. He made his way back to the Command Center. Upon arriving, he found it lit with small flashlights and guarded by only four people. In his soldier's uniform, he would seem to pose no threat to them. Harvey coolly strode up to the four soldiers. When he was within five feet, he clicked his heels together and saluted. Then he stamped his left heel three times, firing off three shots from his foot. The bullets took three of the guards directly in the head. Before the fourth could react, Harvey had him pinned against the wall and kicked him in the leg with the small knife blade protruding from his right shoe. The guard winced and tried to fight loose, but the nerve poison on the blade was already taking effect. Within another fifteen seconds, he had fallen to the floor, dead.
Harvey quickly slipped into the Command Center and plucked his lapel pin from the main computer. In seconds, he was back out the door, just in time to see the lights come back on and more soldiers coming down the hall. He burst out of their line of fire untouched, happy that all of his weapons no longer weighed him down as they once did. He flew with amazing speed around the corner and down the next hallway.
Now all Harvey had to do was escape, but escape would not be easy. He whipped around a corner and encountered four more guards. He took three quarters out of his pockets, squeezed the centers, revealing the tiny nerve poison-coated blades on its edges, and threw them at the guards, killing three of them. As the fourth looked on in horror, Harvey drew his ball-point pen, removed the top, and pressed the back. The bullet hit the guard right in the center of the forehead. As he expertly maneuvered through their line of fire, other guards along the way had their lives spared but were knocked out cold by the use of Harvey's incredible martial arts skills.
Harvey reached his objective: the elevator. He rode it to the top and climbed the cable up to the top of the shaft. He removed a panel and climbed onto the roof. He ran to the edge of the building. Looking over, he could see his eventual path of escape. He reached under his belt for the loop of rope. He pulled it out and hooked it onto the frame of the satellite dish. He lowered himself over the edge of the building and rappelled down on the thin but incredibly strong cord.
Long before anyone confirmed Harvey’s escape, the bomb had exploded and Harvey was long gone. He had radioed ahead on his belt buckle, and the helicopter crews found him by tracking the homing device hidden in the crown of his third molar.
Within two days he was on a spell of well-deserved leave in New York City. But little did Harvey know that, lying in wait for him, was Colonel Szaro himself, and he had revenge on his mind.
As Harvey exited the revolving door of his downtown hotel, he put his hand on some gum stuck on the handle. Disgusted, he tried to get the gum off his hand. He followed the door all the way around and finally got it off. The Colonel, hiding in a phone booth across the street, aimed his pistol for Harvey's head. But as Harvey moved toward a garbage can across the sidewalk to dispose of the gum, a small child dropped his ice cream cone right where Harvey was stepping. He slipped on the slick dessert, spun, stepped back, tripped over the child, slipped again on the ice cream, staggered clumsily onto the street, knocked a construction barricade into the road, and fell headfirst into an open manhole. The barricade fell directly into the path of an oncoming taxi, which swerved, hit a car on its left, which hit another car on its left, which hit a cement truck on the other side of the road. The impact jarred one of the levers in the cab downward, pouring cement into the phone booth where the Colonel waited. Helpless, he tried fruitlessly to escape the cruel fate that awaited him. As he was being encased by this ooze of death, he fired a shot into the air. It ricocheted off the overhanging lamppost and into the manhole Harvey was in, piercing an electrical cable just under the water level and sending a current through the sewers that no man could have endured and lived.
But Bond is no ordinary man….
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