The blades of the Special Air Service chopper thumped the air loudly above the head of Britain’s greatest spy, James Bond. This was one of the most deadly missions he would ever go on. One of there own had gone rouge. An informant had told them that the agent would be at a party being held at a mansion out side of Paris.
Bond checked the clip of his Walther PPK 29 and slid the gun into the holster on his back. He checked his Ka- Bar combat knife and his special equipment that Q had provided. The laser in his watch, the grappler in his cell phone, the bomb in his pager, and lastly the condom dispenser in his right shoe.
The chopper neared the ground and James jumped out and rolled neatly on to the ground. He stood up and made a break for the rear door of the house. He got as far as he could before he spotted a guard. Bond quickly dived behind a tree and assessed the situation.
As quietly as he could he drew his knife from the sheath on his right thigh. He slowly approached the guard from behind and drove the knife in to the side of his throat. The guard made a slight gurgling sound as he hit the ground.
007 ran for the entrance again. He encountered two more guards but dispatched them in much the same way as the first. He stopped at a gate that surrounded the house and exposed his watch. Bond turned the rim of the face of the watch until 6 was on top and 12 on the bottom and pushed in the pin. A thin blue laser beam shot out of a small aperture on the top.
He cut a hole just large enough for him to get through and crawled through it. He ran to a window and used the laser to cut the lock out. He slid the window up and crawled in to the lavishly decorated room. Bond quickly pulled off the black combat jumpsuit and straighten the bow tie of the tuxedo he wore underneath.
James made sure that his gun was still in place and he moved his knife to his left boot. He put on a bewildered look and walked into the hall. Almost instantly voices were shouting at him in French and Russian, although he could speak both languages he still kept a bewildered look on his face raised his hands.
"I was lost I am looking for the loo." 007 said in his English accent.
"Very well sir, I will escort you back to the party." Came a voice with a thick Russian accent.
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Petra Kuntravich stood at the bar in a black strapless number that left little to the imagination. Her tits were practically pouring out of her dress. The young Russian woman held a drink, a vodka martini. She was quietly giggling and flirting with the bartender when she saw him come in. James Bond MI6 Agent 007. He walked to the bar and stood about ten feet from her.
Good Tradecraft, She thought to her self Far enough away to go unnoticed but close enough to her everything I have to say.
She heard him order a martini as well. Petra continued to flirt without missing a beat. She had good tradecraft too. In fact they got it from the same place.
"Hi, I am Petra Kuntravich." She said as she turned toward him.
"Bond, James Bond." He replied holding out his hand.
"Well Mr. Bond, what brings you here?" The Russian vixen said taking his hand in her own gloved hand.
