Bond, James Bond

James Bond was a worried man. As he walked into his favourite hangout , the local bar , his mind was flitting among various thoughts. He had heard disturbing news - there was a mole in his organization , someone who had access to all his defenses.

The waiter asked,"The usual martini , Mr Bond? Shaken not stirred?". Bond was so busy with his own thoughts that he started.

"Huh, what's that?".

The waiter was a bit surprised. He had never seen the normally ice cool Mr Bond of Universal Exports so perturbed. He repeated the question. Bond at the moment just wanted to be left alone.

"If I want a drink , I will ask for it , so bugger off", he cried shrilly. The bar crowd was stunned. The Prince of Monrovia, sitting at the next table, licked his lips in anticipation. Well well well, he thought, so our Mr Bond is not his cool self today. Maybe I can get back the mini fortune I lost to him at cards yesterday.

Abruptly , Bond rushed out of the bar. He found himself facing the heavy London evening traffic. He missed the quaint car Q had arranged for him. It had broken down one week back. He had been promised a replacement , but nothing had happened. Bloody bureaucrats, he thought, cursing the system.

He looked at the groups of children rushing to watch the next show of the Daniel Craig starrer , Casino Royale. For a moment , he felt a wave of pity for them. They thought his life was just guns, fast cars and attractive ladies with all shades of hair colour. They didn’t know , he was a marked man. He looked at the giant Daniel Craig poster staring down at him. The fellow was quite goodlooking, he had to admit. But at least he had actors to do all the stunts for him, Bond though bitterly , fingering the long scar that had left the right side of his face hideous to look at.

Irritably, he shook his head. This would never do. There was a dangerous enemy on his trail, an enemy who had only two days back killed his lover from his latest adventure. He needed to watch every step. But had he left it too late? Would some blunder from the past catch up with him?

There was no report on his latest enemy in the MI-6 files. But Google had given him a wealth of information. ( He had started relying on Google ever since that goof-up in Bohemia, when to his surprise, he found that the building marked on MI-6 maps , that he was supposed to bomb , did not exist. He had got out of that tricky situation by relying on Google Earth ). Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he recalled the close shave.

"This will never do , Mr Bond", he mocked himself. Google had told him that he now faced an implacable enemy, an unrelenting foe which would not relent till he had been destroyed. The ease with which his former lover ( his heart ached everytime he thought of the lovely , desirable Irene ) had been destroyed was warning enough. He must get to M , fast. Maybe he would have a solution. How many times had M saved him before? Maybe the man could work a miracle this time as well.

He caught the tube and rushed to MI-6 headquarters. He rushed into Miss MoneyPenny's cabin and pressed the intercom to M's office.

"Whos that?" , it was a relief to hear that familiar voice.

"Bond, Sir, James Bond"

"Come in James", said the kindly voice.

Bond entered M's office. M was shaken to see his 00 agent so pale.

"Sit down ,James. Tell me , whats the problem".

"Sir, Have you heard of AIDS?".