I just read that there might be a new movie spin off about Miss Moneypenny with Naomie Harris as the lead. So I thought I'd jump the gun and write my version. I do not own the rights to Ian Fleming's characters nor the James Bond movie franchise. This is a parody.
x
London, 2020.
Eve Moneypenny entered her bathroom on bare feet so as not to wake the man sleeping peacefully in the bed of her Chelsea flat. It was three in the morning and as soon as she had come home she had slipped off her high heels in the darkness and found her way to the bathroom. She closed the door quietly and slid out of her white mini dress. Standing naked before the full length mirror she looked at the reflection of a thirty year old killer. Or, as was her designated title, trained assassin. OO5 of Her Majesty's Secret Service to be precise, officially sanctioned to use lethal force in the course of a mission to ensure success. And this she had done three times now, the latest on this very evening.
"That you, Eve?"
The muted voice from the other room brought her back to reality. The five eight female turned this way and that and nodded in approval at her athletic figure. Blessed with a radiant light brown complexion, a result of her Jamaican heritage, her skin was still flawless and bore no visible scars or tattoos. Her firm C cup breasts stood proud on her slender body and she ran a hand over superb abdominal muscles. Her envious long legs were toned and her sublime upper thighs led the eye to her pussy with the faint hint of short curls. Eve kept fit by running and Gyrotonics, a sophisticated form of exercise that utilised dancing, yoga and gymnastics.
"Go back to sleep, darling. I'll be just a moment."
She ran a bath and settled down in the soothing hot water as the steam rose. As she stretched out in the tub a tear ran slowly down her left cheek and she began to sob softly.
x
It was the unexpected news in the MI6 building at Vauxhall Cross in London that agent OO7, James Bond, was likely to step down from active service and even might marry, and this prompted Eve to consider a return to the field. After a number of years as the personal secretary of M, the head of the Secret Intelligence Service, Eve had become bored with the mundane duties behind a desk. Since she had already been trained in all the necessary skills needed to become an Operational Officer, especially excelling in foreign languages and marksmanship, she applied for the elite 'Double O' section. The tough and sassy agent craved adventure and yearned for a return to the front line.
"It appears that a young Miss Prudence Prendergast, a small cog in the MI5 wheel, has nonetheless been rather busy in disclosing sensitive information to the Russians. I fear that she may also be in possession of the identities of all of our covert secret agents."
Miss Moneypenny sat in silence opposite her head of staff, known only by the codename 'M.' Although his identity was not a well kept secret and was actually former government official and ex SAS officer, Gareth Mallory. All the time he spoke his eyes seemed to bore through her head and she managed to maintain a weak smile as she listened. Despite being his personal secretary in recent times he always managed to stir up a mixture of unease and nerves in her. He studied the contents of a plain MI5 file which he then discarded.
"The Soviet Union may be dead and buried but the Reds are still one of the biggest thorns in our side. I want this leak stopped, permanently. If any such list were to get out it would be considerably bad for business. Are you up for it? I had considered OO7 for the task but I think the problem needs to be dealt with by a woman. Our information also reveals that she had lesbian tendencies. Might be of use to know. Are you still single by the way?"
Eve looked to the window which was drizzled in the afternoon rain shower. She thought of her current partner Thierry and then shook her head.
"No one special, Sir."
"Right. I like my special operatives to remain unattached."
In order to be awarded a OO prefix it required a man or woman under the age of forty, and someone who had killed twice in fulfilling assignments. It seemed like only yesterday that she and Bond were together in Istanbul in pursuit of the French mercenary known only as Patrice and his clumsy accomplice, Sylvain. A callous and ruthless assassin, Patrice had died at the hands of OO7 later in Shanghai. Eve had killed Sylvain in the chase and in an attempt to shoot Patrice she had inadvertently hit Bond instead, sending his seemingly lifeless body into the Bosphorus. Having since returned from the dead as it were, Bond had resurfaced to resume his position as OO7 and Eve was allowed to retain the kill towards her mandatory two permitted.
"I think I'm ready, Sir."
Eve gave her chief an assured smile and sat up straight.
"We also believe that she has information that suggests the current Russian President, Putin, has made concerted efforts to accumulate a significant amount of Polonium 210. The deadly isotope was used to murder Litvinenko in London back in 2006 you may recall. Find out if there is any truth in it. That will be all. I'll let you take care of the details."
"Yes, Sir. And thank you."
"Quite."
x
Eve turned up at the party at nine and caught the eye of everyone in the room with her thigh skimming white mini dress. It had been a short ride from her flat to The Belvedere Restaurant in Holland Park and the night air had cooled somewhat by the time she had arrived. In addition to her stunning look she wore a pair of white strappy shoes with four inch heels, the result of which drew the eye to her lithe and dark bare legs. Clutched tightly in her hand was a matching hand bag, the contents of which may very well be a life saver. Her choice of weapon tonight was the Walther PP with double action trigger and fixed barrel. Eve brushed her black hair back which she had styled with a simple side parting for the evening and scoured the room for her target. The event was in aide of fund raising for the Labour Party and the hosts had laid on wine and refreshments for a sum of £100 a head.
"Oh, Jeremy Corbyn is my man. I think he has such refreshing views."
Eve saw a rather tipsy female with an empty glass in her hand rattling on about the Labour Party politician. He was known to be a follower of Marxism and attracted the young and the easily influenced with his manifesto. Obviously Prudence was one who had swayed to the far left and in her position as an employee of 'Five' she posed a significant problem as she processed delicate intel in her daily duties.
"Oh, I so do agree. He gets my vote."
The room was full of middle aged people engaged in conversation as Eve took a glass from a passing waiter and sidled up to the woman in the scarlet dress and joined in the discussions The older man she had no doubt bored to death welcomed the interruption and moved away.
"Men! What do they know? This is why the country is in the predictanmr, predicalmunt, state we find it."
Eve steadied the slurring woman who wobbled on her red four inch heels and their eyes met. Prudence was quite the looker with long blonde hair, plump lips and nicely curved breasts under her plunging neckline. She appeared to be every man's desire. Or, in this case, every woman's desire.
"Thank you, er..."
"Norma. Pleased to meet you. Do you need to sit down?"
"Yes. Good idea."