Journey Through Genres
| "Let's get you into bed Mr. Bond." The curvy blonde in a figure-hugging uniform bent over the elderly man in his wheelchair. As he raised his arms and locked them around her neck his face came into contact with her ample breasts. She swivelled his body onto the bed with well-practised ease.
"There was a time ..." James gave a cheeky wink. At eighty-four the fire still burned but the engine had long since failed to work. He still had his memories of past conquests to keep him warm at night, but regretted that the years had passed without any real love in his life.
"Mr. Bond!" The outrage was fake. Joy Schtik just loved the effect she had on her elderly clients. She sashayed from the room and left with a kiss blown over her shoulder. She was a dangerous woman. One day a client will have a heart attack, but what a way to go.
The nights were long in the Omega Four Residential Home for Retired Agents. In room 007, James Bond would stare into the darkness and see a thousand ninjas hiding in the shadows. His sleep was filled with explosions and beautiful girls. Did he have regrets? He had lived a life of adventure. Danger was his sustenance. No, no regrets.
Sirens and flashing lights woke him from the most amazing dream. He had been in the arms of a blonde beauty who ...
No time for that. The shutters came down. A hologram was talking to him. "Spectre have discovered your location, Commander Bond. You are in imminent danger."
"Ah, Miss Moneypenny, so nice to see you again."
"No time for pleasantries, James. I have sent an armed squad to your location, ETA thirty minutes. I suggest you prepare for an attack."
As the hologram spoke James was already transferring himself back to his wheelchair. With a flick of a switch, hidden under the seat, the armrests lifted to expose a machine gun on the right and a grenade launcher on the left. Grabbing the remote he switched on the TV to show multiple screens.
"They're here, Moneypenny. I've gotta go."
The external cameras showed the building to be surrounded by armed men in black paramilitary uniforms. So far the internal hallways were clear. Nurse Schtik charged in wearing a flak jacket and a helmet, and carrying a submachine gun. "Your orders, Commander?"
"Are all the patients in the bunker, Lieutenant Schtik?"
"Yes, Sir. All except Chief Wiggam; he's determined to fight."
"Are your troops in place?" All the nursing staff are fully trained naval officers, combat ready.
"Aye, aye, Commander." She saluted.
"They've got an RPG out there. The doors won't hold. Prepare for incursion."
"Aye, aye, Commander." She pulled a tin hat from under the bed and strapped it on the Commander.
Joy wheeled Bond into the hallway. He had a clear view down the hall and his back was to a sturdy wall. Nobody was going to come this way and survive. Joy handed him a tablet, the camera feed now showing. "Are the claymores armed?"
"Yes, Sir." To reinforce that, there was a flash bang from another part of the building. The air filled with the smell of cordite. The lights went out leaving only the eerie green glow of the emergency lighting.
"Infiltration in the west wing." He stared at the screen. "X-rays down, no, one still moving. Woman down. Grenade!"
"We should move to the bunker, Sir."
"No, we should defend the building, Schtik. I am still in command."
More gunfire, this time nearer. Bond stared at the screen. "Your women are holding fast in the mess. Three x-rays down. Oh no, they've launched another RPG."
He had faced this situation so many times in the past. But that was in the past, when he was young and fit. Could he hold out this time? Another flash bang, this time to the east. Gunfire. Another explosion. "Where are your men, Moneypenny?"
This corridor was the last part of the building still in friendly hands. As the x-rays came into view, Bond let rip with the machine gun. Two x-rays bit the dust, others retreated round the corner. He launched a grenade in their direction. As the air filled with dust and cordite, an x-ray armed with an RPG knelt and aimed.
Bond grabbed Joy's hand and pulled her onto his lap, kissing her passionately. As their world exploded one last thought went through his mind; his epitaph would read 'He died with a hard on.'