27
May
08

Could you write a Bond novel?

Or at least a chapter. The new book about the British super-spy is published this week. The plot is being kept a secret. But we can’t wait to read about how 007 gets into his latest spills and scrapes. And besides, we think you can do better. So we’re giving you a licence to write.

So the new Bond novel is called “Devil May Care” and it’s 007’s 15th adventure in print.

But don’t worry about that too much.

The World Today, with your help, is going on an eight and half hour writing marathon to pen our own Bond story.

When’s it starting?
Starting at 2300GMT on Tuesday we are going to read out a short chapter every half an hour until we get to the conclusion just before 0730GMT.

To get things started, we have written the first chapter but from there it’s over to you. We need you to develop the story chapter by chapter.

What are the rules?
We don’t have too many but here they are.

You read the latest short chapter here (see below) and then write the next one for us in no more than 300 words.

Chapter 1 of The World Today’s “Deadline 0730”

Enemies rarely die well.

Bond’s silenced Walther PPK snapped two bullets into the man’s face at close range.
The man fell, letting out a weak groan as the last flickering twitches of life ebbed from him.
Bond crossed the small room, knelt down and frisked the corpse.

Inside the dead man’s jacket pocket he found what he was looking for: the flashcard, the mobile phone and the envelope of money.

Bond glanced at his Omega Seamaster watch, 23:26gmt.

Good, he thought, on schedule to meet the contact and hand over the evidence.

Bond holstered the Walther and left the apartment as silently as he had arrived.

As he came onto the street he looked left, he looked right. Not being watched.

He crossed the road, reaching into the pocket of his Saville Row dinner jacket, he flicked the button on the key fob. Twenty yards away the metallic grey Aston Martin Vantage lit up. Bond eased himself into the low leather seat and pressed the starter button. The V12 engine roared into life. Bond put the sports car into gear, pulled out into the late night traffic and sped off towards the Hotel.

‘M’ would be pleased with the smoothness of the operation.

The card, phone and money would soon be on its way to London for analysis. He parked the Aston outside the hotel and made his way to the reception.

Bond smiled at the very pretty reception girl as he collected his room key.

“Good evening Mr Bond,” she smiled back, almost blushing. “You have a visitor. She is waiting in the cocktail bar.”

“Thankyou,” said Bond, taking the key and thinking to himself how trim and coquettish the girl’s figure was.

Bond crossed the foyer to the bar.

Bond’s eyes met the gaze of a spectacularly beautiful girl in an exquisite sapphire blue evening dress.

She was sipping a champagne cocktail. Her full and lovely mouth leaving the slightest hint of red lipstick on the rim. It was a mouth to kiss.

“Good evening,” she said as Bond approached the bar. Her pale, slender, feline neck glittered beneath a necklace of Graff diamonds. “My name is Ariel.”

“My name is Bond, James Bond.”

“What will you have to drink Mr Bond? The champagne is very good.”

“Vodka Martini,” replied Bond. “Shaken not stirred.”

THAT’S OUR EFFORT. NOW IT’S YOUR TURN. WHERE WOULD YOU TAKE THE STORY NOW?

POST YOUR CHAPTER BELOW.


52 Responses to “Could you write a Bond novel?”


  1. 1 steve
    May 26, 2008 at 15:18

    Anyone remember the Saturday Night Live episode where James Bond got an STD and had to call up all the women from his past and tell them? They should have a chapter like that.

  2. 2 Ogola Benard
    May 26, 2008 at 15:46

    Yah, sure i would like very much to write but how to
    start one? I sounds before me like a movie episode.
    I need to get more imformed a bit and then i could
    work out.
    benard.

  3. 3 Bob in Queensland
    May 26, 2008 at 16:07

    Considering how old the original books are, perhaps the new book should have started more along the lines of:

    “Bond snapped alert in the pitch darkness of his hotel room. Somebody or something was there with him. Slowly and silently he reached for his bedside table. His hand fell precisely on his teeth and, without a sound he put them in.

    A loud creak broke the silence and Bond’s nerves jangled. Then he realised it was his knee.”

  4. 4 Will Rhodes
    May 26, 2008 at 16:12

    Bond nodded to the barman to indicate thanks for his Martini. He slowly raised it to his mouth pausing just before taking a sip and turned toward Arial “Have you been waiting long?”

    “No, Mr Bond” she held the champagne flute delectably with her perfectly manicured fingers.

    “Do we sit here and engage in small talk all evening or are you going to explain why you asked for me?” Bond sipped his Martini, smiled with satisfaction.

    Arial slipped her room key toward Bond. As she leaned forward she crossed her long, toned legs rubbing against his outer thigh, “Come to my room in fifteen minutes, Mr Bond.”

    Bond raised an eyebrow and gently gave her a shallow nod to affirm he would be there. She stood; smiling drew her ornate and undoubtedly expensive purse across Bond’s chest.

    “Fifteen minutes, Mr Bond!”

    Bond leaned casually against the bar pushing his right hand deep into his trouser pocket. He watched her walk away noticing that she had the grace of any royal cat. She was tall enhanced by the four inch heels she wore.

    In the lobby she glanced back at Bond, hit the elevator button and waited for her car. Bond scanned around the bar taking in those who sat, talked and generally took in the ambiance. His gaze was met briefly by a short man sat by the glass doors at the north end of the room. Bond ignored the stare and looked at his watch, just enough time to finish his Martini.

    A few short minutes passed, Bond was stood outside Arial’s room. Bond slowly swiped the electronic key and opened the door ajar, silence and an eerie darkness greeted him.

    “Come in, Mr Bond”

    Bond gently gripped his pistol handle.

    Sorry it isn’t that good – I normally take much longer to write something.

  5. May 26, 2008 at 18:25

    As Mr Bond entered the room, he really didn’t know what to expect… He kept himself prepared for all possibilities… Ariel was sitting on the side of the bed, putting a leg over a leg and chewing gum with strawberry flavour… There was a mysterious smile drawn over her face… She then turned her head towards Mr Bond, made a huge balloon using the gum, and after the balloon blew up, she said in a soft seducing voice “Come and sit by my side Mr Bond!”… Mr Bond said to himself “OK Jimmy, you gotta be cautious buddy!”, then he came and sat by her side… She stopped chewing gum suddenly, pulled out a normally looking envelope from under the pillow, handed it over to Mr Bond and said in a calm voice “You gotta deliver this envelope to our guy in Baghdad!”… “Baghdad ???!” Mr Bond shouted…

  6. May 26, 2008 at 18:38

    “why don’t you close the door?”

    Bond stepped softly into the room ” why don’t you put on the lights?” he answered. A street light outside the hotel illuminated the room. A double bed to his right, with the sheets turned down. A small table beside it and by the window, another door.

    “because you can only see my suprise in the dark” responded Ariel from out of the gloom. James could just see her, standing next to the open window, the squins on her dress sparkling in the street light.

    “I don’t like suprises” said James gripping his pistol even tighter. Moving forward to cross the threshold, he adjusted his grip, before closing the door behind him.

    “Not even from old friends”said suddenly a male voice out of the gloom. James whipped round to his left, raising his gun “especially from old friends!”.

    “Now James” said Ariel moving from by the window , James shifted his gun to follow her across the room. “This was why i hired you! We knew you would never have come if Malik had revealed himself in the lobby”.

    …. not a great effort but i suppose its a good start x

  7. 7 Zak
    May 26, 2008 at 22:24

    Having recently heard an interview with the grandson of the real British intelligence, then MI5, agent whose character the bond series was based on here’s a clue noting that the grandson confirmed that the real life version was a safe cracking double-agent spy hunter type: he also said that of all the characters who most represented his grandfather was Pierce Brosnan?! Shows you real life ain’t fiction. I happen to be a fiction writer so I’ll take a stab though I must warn you the LA Times tried this same experiment and it wasn’t pretty, so I thought we should have just the facts first, oh, wait, that was LA in the 50’s; a real slick detective with a TV show, the works, the whole LA confidential

  8. 8 Zak
    May 27, 2008 at 00:42

    “Something is illuminating your hair most brightly in this still London air tonight. Perhaps we should acquiesce to your room? Or mine?” Bond was thinking just the opposite would occur and he was right.
    “Actually Mr. Bond I prefer the brighter lights, less illusion you’ll find that way, beyond the illumination in my hair.” She read his intentions and Ariel knew she’d caught him off guard. “Why don’t we step right out on the veranda? Plenty of lights, plenty of privacy suits us both.”
    “Yes, indeed.”
    They move in silence while the bustling clamber of the hotel moves around them turning to a hush in their ears, perfume scents tingle within the fog from their distant spot. Outside it’s a balmy evening, not cold, but nothing moving either. Bond thinks of his recent caper and tries to enchant his acquaintance back to the immediate surrounds by lifting a chair for her. She sits turning up the sea green feathered hat, woven as it were around her head. She’s called his bluff.
    “What do you think of our transaction, is it done here?” Bond gives away a hint of interest somewhat indignantly.
    “Well, if you want it to be.”
    “I thought that’s what you want, they told me you were in this business for hire alone.”
    “Yes I handle a lot of money and keep some for what I do.”
    “Is that all you do?”
    “Yes, though…” She breaks off suddenly and shows a bit of wetness in her eyes.
    “What is it.”
    “Nothing. She straightens up her coy self returning. Let’s do the business we came to do.” Nothing in her voice could tell of the emotion she had just shown except a slight deepening that indicated she was French.
    Bond was viscerally engaged now, wildly attracted yet down inside his soul he could feel what she could feel beneath the satin and velvet blue of her dress. Fear, fear paralyzed him and for the second time he noted being caught off guard but still he dared not venture deeper into her heart. They would meet again, best not to mix business anyway.
    He handed her the flash drive containing the photos, “You know those are encrypted of course…But you would know that.”
    “As I told you Mr. Bond I am only one gun for hire,” her French accent starting to peel forth like an orange. “Did you really think anything else.”
    She snapped up the package and in a flash she was gone leaving him with only the chilling remains of her voice.
    But she called back saving him the next icy thought, “When you want to find me ask at the Cote d’Azur hotel and they will know.”
    Some months passed that were hard for Bond though he knew not why. Something kept hammering at him that his mission was on the wrong track. But it wasn’t until he was sent to Italy that he knew something was wrong. He landed and from Venice he took the train North to the Riviera where he was to meet a contact at the Hotel Paradiso.
    Another mundane meeting arranged by ‘M’. While he did his business something appeared right in front of him. The contact was holding a picture and going on about how they had taken out the leader of the gang, but in the background he saw the girl in blue. Only this time she wasn’t in blue but rather in white sitting in a chair looking prim and proper still, something was off about her. His mind raced, back to his time with her, had he been set up. Or was it she that had been setup? The latter seemed more probably, but that was no matter. Now his one thought was that hotel in France. He would be there in 3 hours on the train.
    “Oui…”
    “Merci…” Bond raced out onto the beach without listening for more from the attendant because he had guessed the game.
    This time in a white hat she stood on the beach in the gorgeous July late afternoon sun. Looking the same proper lady she was like a goddess to him. He was almost willing to run to her but remembered his cool. She called to him as he approached and he saw she was running toward him. But her look back over her shoulder was very worried.
    “I knew you’d come back.” She gripped him tight and they spun around.
    Further down the beach men in black suits were approaching quickly and suddenly Bond noticed they were everywhere.
    “Quickly to the water,” Bond shouted and pulled a bigger gun this time, a Glock 45 carried in his other shoulder holster.
    While they ran shots rang out and people scattered. Bond found a motor boat and commandeered it. They sped away from the shore with the men 100yds behind.
    Could he trust her, “Can I trust you?” She gave him a peck on the cheek as he held the gun in one hand and the rudder in the other.
    But he couldn’t think of that now. He navigated the boat to the south further from their assailants. Soon another boat appeared behind but Bond shot a hole in the bow before it could get far. Bond had planed for this escape. Moored off the coast about 5K South was a 15 meter slimline catamaran equipped with full racing spinnaker, and a twin turbine racing motors.
    “Fantastic” she screamed as the climbed aboard and she sprawled out under the canvas hovel shielding them from view to the back.
    He fired up the racing turbines as the methanol and either smoke clouded the air they sped out into the now fading sun. Soon the sails were up on the open water and the spinnaker was pulling them along at a nice clip of 20kn.
    “This pace should put us just right to avoid all that trouble since I had a decoy plane in place, they should assume we’re back in England by now. They’re probably flying over us as we speak so we should stay under the cover.
    “Now why don’t you tell me about these assailants of yours, why were they chasing you anyway?”
    “NO.” She almost screams again but then lowers her voice. “No, let’s just stay here under the shade.
    She clearly seemed shaken and he guessed this was as much a mystery as the case he was trying to solve. So he inhaled deeply the salt air and she did the same. He was reminded of the perfume on the veranda the evening they had met.
    “I hope this shelter is good enough…” She broke off the statement more calm now.
    “Watch.”
    He undid a band and a goretex layer came parachuting down covering the canvas hugging the sturdy titanium frame on the inside.
    “75wt. waterproof canvas and 40cm of goretex insulation.” He knew that he had assuage her fears this time. “My lady I have withstood many a good English gale in my Eva.
    She shot him a glance to see that he was smiling.
    “That’s the name of my boat dear.”
    Suddenly it was all dark and she noticed it, so he rolled the goretex back up.
    “Don’t you feel secure my lady?”
    “Why yes, of course.” But her remoteness was not concealed.
    “Whatever your demons are I’m sure we can take care of them.” He motioned to a chest and opened it to reveal all sorts of automatic weapons.
    “No that’s not it, James, I do believe I can call you that yes. James…”
    Before she finished saying his name he kissed her. She didn’t resist but inside their hearts a deepening mystery gave inspiration. He pulled back.
    “Right, he said. We should talk first, of your troubles.”
    “Well, OK.” She said, but then said nothing.
    He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close as they sat at the foot of the California queen bed and leaned their backs against it.
    She still said nothing, they sailed off into the sunset. But he could feel her opening up to him. Seas were calm, her scent filled his nose, he expected a smooth ride through the night on the Eva.

    These works are copyright by the author for lease by WHYS only, otherwise contact my agent, wait, that’s me. Hey at least I warned ya.

  9. 9 Zak
    May 27, 2008 at 00:53

    I wonder you guys, actually gals, how you get the pair from the bar to the room. For us guys it’s not so academic, is it really for the ladies?

  10. 10 Dennis Jr
    May 27, 2008 at 01:37

    My thoughts for the Bond novel:

    How does James Bond, gets the NICE (HOT) looking ladies from the bar to the bedroom…

    How many of his brilliant tricks he has to used to get his girls…..

  11. 11 Zak
    May 27, 2008 at 02:55

    This proves to me that the city of LA is, ridiculous, no doubt. When the LA Times did this same experiment the people of LA responded with, get this, at the height, 10,000 entries a day! Without even a premise; that’s what LA people would call a good climax!

    So in order to inspire you more than just repeating the obvious: Consider a creative writing technique and pay strict attention to detail. Develop a strategy for conflict that involves a beginning, middle, and end.

    Go with the girl, let her be the conflict, that’s the easy way, and the Bond way too. So to me this means they don’t just hop into bed together – think of boy hero Brad Pitt in Spy Game. He gets her because he has too, and because he wants to, but more because he has to. So the longer you wait to get them into bed the more conflict you have.

    Lastly for spy stories now we have an immense resource right at our fingertips: GOOGLE. When I wanted a hotel in Italy I just punch it in on Google and don’t even go past the results page. So find your location and use it to the fullest.

    And finally I think you have to consider the original piece as a piece, not as a whole chapter. So look at it as the premise.

  12. 12 Will Rhodes
    May 27, 2008 at 03:03

    I’m looking for an agent, Zak! 😉

  13. 13 Zak
    May 27, 2008 at 03:28

    What do you mean you’re looking for an agent, I need an agent. Hey somebody call me an agent that guy’s stealing my line! LOL – JK.

    Hey, seriously, it really breaks my heart having known Roger Moore a bit that the grandson would give the closest resemblance title to Brosnan of all the actors who played him: please, please, please say it ain’t so.

  14. 14 Zak
    May 27, 2008 at 03:36

    Oh yes one more dedication, how could I forget, only partially influenced by her performance uncut in The Dreamers The Eva, my Bond boat, is dedicated to the single best Bond girl with the mostest there ever was or will be: Eva Green.

  15. 15 R
    May 27, 2008 at 04:13

    OK folks, let’s pay attention to the nuts and bolts of writing, or the editors, if they exist, will come unglued with the extra work being created for them. This was set up in past tense, so let’s keep it consistent, and not jump back and forth between past and present tense. Betrays us as amateurs, you know….

  16. 16 TFD
    May 27, 2008 at 04:37

    Bond had been here before, a beautiful women, almost too beautiful, in the back of his head he knew the danger, women like her came with a price; he knew that she was sent to divert him and perhaps to seduce him. Bond took a seat at the bar twisting himself into the stool in order to sweep the room for the more obvious threats. She was both beautiful and professional, none of her mannerisms giving any indication of the danger he knew she offered. Bond looked for anything out of place in her dress, make-up, and accent but there was nothing amiss, her perfection told him that someone had gone to a lot of trouble to manufacture such a mignon bagatelle.

    Bond, playing along for a little waited to see her direction. Running her finger over the rim of her champagne glass Ariel looked calculatingly into Bond’s eyes, “Mister Bond I have been looking forward to meeting you, I believe that you knew my cousin Christine in Paris”. Bond’s mind reeled back to Paris 2005, Christine was a chance acquaintance who worked for BNP at La Defense, and they had spent two weeks together in Paris when he was on a boring surveillance assignment. He looked more closely at Ariel searching for a genetic resemblance but could find none. Bond said, “yes of course Christine, she did a lot to help me improve my French, how is she”? “Mister Bond, Christine disappeared one month ago, never returning from a business trip to Berlin”, Ariel said.

    Bond had learned many skills over the years; one of the most valuable was his ability to keep his emotions and his reflexes in balance. The news about Christine was a shock, his mind raced back to one Sunday morning in her bed, their bodies wrapped in a Gordian knot after a night of passion and looking up from the bed he could just see the peak of the Eiffel tower illumined on the horizon, it was a warm memory. Slipping back to the present and to Ariel, her emergence and the perfection of her appearance told him that something was askew, he needed to follow the path Ariel was leading but caution was called for, after all he thought history is littered with famous men who have been sent to their ruin by beautiful women.

  17. May 27, 2008 at 04:39

    Bond looks at Ariel. He turns his gaze back towards the bar and thinks, “Man this stuff is getting old.” He say to the bar tender, “on second thought, make that a beer. Something dark, sweet, and high in alcohol content.” “Ariel, huh?” says Bond. “That sounds like a cheap stripper name.” He takes a giant gulp of his beer leaving a foamy mustache. Then he lifts his leg and lets one fly. It was loud, distracting, and stinky. His “guest” had her nose stuffed in the Champaign glass most likely to avert the smell. “Oh man, I have been wanting to do that for days.” Snickers bond. “That shell fish and cabbage I ate awhile ago isn’t sitting right with me.” Just then, “errriiipp!!” another noxious offender escaped his bowels. This had poor Ariel turning green and almost in tears. “This is the famous romantic ‘James Bond’ she had been hearing about?”

    Another big gulp by James followed by a large belch. He turns to his guest and he says, “Look honey. I know how this is going down. You are going to slip me your room key and tell me to meet you in your room. I will come in and we will do it like monkeys all night long. I will be the best you ever had, and you won’t be. In the morning you will try to kill me. I will stop you and then one of two things will happen. Either I will kill you, or you will get persuaded that my cause is the right cause, even if it isn’t.” Then yet another dose of bond deadly gas squeaks out. James continues, “You will tag along with me then the rest of the mission almost getting me killed a half dozen times. Then at the end I will leave you cold and you will never hear from me again. You very well might end up carrying my baby that you will have to raise on your own. It will be difficult since everybody will want to kill you for helping me out. You will spend your whole life looking over your shoulder.” Bond motions to the bartender to get him another beer. He looks at the beautiful lady standing next to him. “Ariel, or whatever you name is, I am going to save you a lot of time and heartache. Here is the information you were going to try to get from me.” Bond slides her the stuff he just took. “Now as for me, I am going to commandeer this nice catamaran I saw on the way in and take a much need break, maybe even call it a retirement.

    Ariel shocked, doesn’t know what to say, and says nothing. Bond slams his second beer, and then starts to walk towards the door. “Oh one thing” he say as he walks by his guest. He grabs her and plants a kiss right on her lips. “That’s what I thought” he says as he backs away. He turns and lets out one more bout of flatulence. “wow!” he exclaims. “I got to see a doctor about that.”

    On the way out the door, bond slaps a pile of money on the reception counter and says, “How would you like to go on a little boat ride honey?” Without hesitation she scoops up the money and jumps over the counter to his arms. “Now I got to warn you I ate some shell fish earlier……” is the last thing heard from Bond.

  18. 18 Rob
    May 27, 2008 at 05:39

    Grinding to a halt on the gravelly North African Coast, Bond and Ariel had found the other side of the Mediterranean, men in robes and pointed shoes would pul them further ashore and moor the boat. As the men offered dates, accomodations, and the finest of Casino’s, their French failed, as did that of Ariel, who fended them off in lilting Arabic.

    Tunisia would welcome the pair as though they were royalty ready to deal in oil, opium, hashish, or any other currency.

    Debarking, James and Ariel were met by a man in his younger twenties, splendid mustache, and resplendant of robe, who intriduces himself as Kalil, nothing more, only kalil. The young man and Ariel clearly know each other, though it is an uneasy truce

    The three would proceed to a small bistro-like restaurant near the beach, Bond favoring his right knee, and his would be captors bounding along as though the world were perfect.

  19. 19 Zak
    May 27, 2008 at 06:36

    This was set up in past tense, so let’s keep it consistent, and not jump back and forth between past and present tense.

    But then again you got a love this- forgive me Dwight whatever pub you may be inhabiting but this makes me think of being in high school at a 7/11.

    Another big gulp by James followed by a large belch. He turns to his guest and he says, “Look honey. I know how this is going down.

    Yeah OK there’s definitely some discontinuity here. Bond was based on a character who is and always remains, past, now dead, so let’s honor him with past tense.

    I was going to suggest a second draft for those uninspired by the OP to write in past tense, but the case above should stand, or swagger, or crawl…Say I’ve had a few of California’s finest tonight, Eel River amber ale is organic and good. So how bout I give another chapter. I’ll await the official ruling.

  20. 20 Kenneth
    May 27, 2008 at 07:08

    Turning to her, Bond put on his boyish smile and asked,
    “What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this waiting for a man like me?”
    “I knew I’d find you here..” replied Ariel.
    “I suppose Bigga sent you..?”
    “Do you always get down to business that fast?”
    “I know Bigga.. She always wants something done.”
    Smiling, she moved closer and whispered seductively in his ear,
    “There is something your ‘M’ would be pleased to have..”
    “Concerning..?”
    Smiling again she moved closer to assault him with her generous bust.
    “In Russia, we have a saying, ‘Never use the wrong forum to divulge important information..”
    Bond looks around the half empty bar.
    “And what’s wrong with this forum?”
    “I was thinking more about a forum without bugs in the furniture..”
    “Like..?”
    “Like your car..”
    They both get up and exit.

    Walking up to the car and pressing the key fob, he opened the door for her. After she slid in, he went around and opened his door. As he sat, he turned to her.
    “I trust that this forum is acceptable to you,”
    “Ah, Mr. Bond. You are a true gentleman. Russian men only open the door for you if they want to show off a new car or feel guilty about being with another woman..”
    Looking at her inquiringly, he added,
    “Or if they want something from you..”
    She sighs.
    “Okay, maybe you can start the car.. Too many carjackers in Moscow..”
    “Only a fool would try this one. Now, get to the point or I may just leave you to the carjackers..”
    She regards him for a second. Her face is taut but melts into a smile.
    “Okay.. It’s about the 2012 Olympics in London..”
    “Yes…?”
    Taking a deep breath, she turns to him.
    “You do want to host them, yes?”

  21. 21 ogola Benard
    May 27, 2008 at 14:42

    Another lady scuttled off to get herself another drink. she was dressed on a red mini skirt and a white top, with large buttocks like the hindquarters of a horse.
    she had been sited at one side of the bar in a group of four men. Her name was miss Hell, a common prostitute in town.
    Miss hell sat right behind the bar stole to 007’s back but she could not attract him.
    He had heard the four men talk scurrilously about her. his ear gadgets where on
    and he also knew he was armed to the teeth.
    Soon miss Hell was done with her drink and disappeared in thin air. She had noticed that miss Ariel was malaise about her presence.
    Bond , would you like another glass of champagne? miss Ariel asked. Sure! May
    i take the honor please, said 007. please replied miss Ariel.
    So what do you do with yourself? Bond started the conversation. No minute, the champagne had arrived but bond decided it for the lounge bar .
    cheers, cheers at the lounge room was now the mood and the conversation what do you do with yourself continued.
    I work with…./ my Business…!
    cheerio!

  22. May 27, 2008 at 15:02

    Hi, it’s Howells, Richard Howells, agent provocateur on The World Today and Bond’s handler for Chapter 1.

    Thanks for all your contributions. You all have lively imaginations – no doubt about it.
    But… and it’s only a little but, we need you to get Bond’s adventure really moving.

    It seems you picked up on Bond’s interest in Ariel. Clearly a beautiful woman like her is going to interest Bond. He is James Bond after all!

    But what’s happening with the flashcard, mobile phone and money Bond took from the man he killed at the beginning? And who is Malik? Was he the short man in the bar that Bond spotted after Ariel left?

    Remember any great story has a beginning, middle and end… and of course, lots of action.

    Bond is in action from 2300gmt tonight. And his latest adventure must finish by 0730gmt.

    ‘Surely you don’t expect me to talk?’
    ‘No Mr Bond. I expect you to write!”

    Looking forward to hearing what happens to 007 next.

  23. 23 Zak
    May 27, 2008 at 15:34

    According to your version there was no Malik, neither was there a man in the bar. One seems to be a shy reference to the prime minister in Iraq, the other highly implausible for Bond to notice: a man in a bar! Not likely. On the other points you can hardly expect much from the all revered mobile phone and a flashcard. Most likely those points disappear beyond the tedium of England. But that said, in a very short time I’ll give one more draft with a little more emphasis on the details and error corrected.

  24. 24 Jean Cole
    May 27, 2008 at 15:37

    Excuse me one moment, there’s a message on my phone.’ Bond glanced at the phone and then looked straight into Ariels’eyes. ‘It’s from you! I’m not the easy game that you told Sergio I was.’
    ‘How do you know I said that?’ she gasped.
    ‘Oh Sergio doesn’t need his phone any more. This is his.’ He grasped her slender arm, more muscular than it looked, but Bond was trained in coercion. ‘Come with me darling. We’re going for a little walk.’

    As they left the room, she walking stiffly at his side, a small, squarely built man sitting near the doors, nodded to a man in the lobby who got up to follow but Bond had anticipated this and had pressed an extra button onn his mobile phone calling for assistance. As the two pursuers reached the outside doors, the doorman turned to them, effectively blocking their way. ‘Excuse me sirs, an urgent message for you.’ By the time the ‘mistake’ had been sorted out, Bonf and Ariel were out of sight.

  25. 25 Zak
    May 27, 2008 at 16:10

    “Something is illuminating your hair most brightly in this still London air tonight. Perhaps we should acquiesce to your room? Or mine?” Bond was thinking just the opposite would occur and he was right.
    “Actually Mr. Bond I prefer the brighter lights, less illusion you’ll find that way, beyond the illumination in my hair.” She read his intentions and Ariel knew she’d caught him off guard. “Why don’t we step right out on the veranda? Plenty of lights, plenty of privacy suits us both.”
    “Yes, indeed.”They moved in silence while the bustling clamber of the hotel around them was turning to a hush in their ears, perfumed scents tingled within the fog from their distant spot.
    Outside it was a balmy evening, not cold, but nothing was moving either. Bond was thinking of his recent caper and attempted to enchant his acquaintance back to the immediate surrounds by lifting a chair for her. She sat, turning up the sea green feathered hat, woven as it were around her head. She’s called his bluff.
    “What do you think of our transaction, is it done here?” Bond gave away a hint of interest somewhat indignantly.
    “Well, if you want it to be.”
    “I thought that’s what you want, they told me you were in this business for hire alone.”
    “Yes I handle a lot of money and keep some for what I do.”
    “Is that all you do?”
    “Yes, though…” She broke off suddenly showing a bit of wetness in her eyes.
    “What is it.”
    “Nothing.” She straightened up, her coy self returning. “Let’s do the business we came to do.”
    Nothing in her voice could tell of the emotion she had just shown except a slight deepening that indicated she was French. Bond was viscerally engaged now, wildly attracted yet down inside his soul he could feel what she could feel beneath the satin and velvet blue of her dress. Fear, fear paralyzed him and for the second time he noted being caught off guard but still he dared not venture deeper into her heart. He felt they would meet again, best not to mix business anyway.
    He handed her the flash drive containing the photos, “You know those are encrypted of course…But you would know that.”
    “As I told you Mr. Bond I am only one gun for hire,” her French accent starting to peel forth like an orange. “Did you really think anything else.”
    She snapped up the package and in a flash she was gone leaving him with only the chilling remains of her voice. It was then that Bond knew she had something to do with the operative he’d killed, though whether for good or ill he wasn’t sure.
    But she called back saving him the next icy thought, “When you want to find me ask at the Cote d’Azur hotel and they will know.”
    Some months passed that were hard for Bond though he knew not why. Something kept hammering at him that his mission was on the wrong track. But it wasn’t until he was sent to Italy that he knew something was wrong. He landed and from Venice he took the train North to the Riviera where he was to meet a contact at the Hotel Paradiso.
    Another mundane meeting arranged by ‘M’ who had established the information from the operative he’d killed. The contact he was meeting had taken out part of the dead operatives operation, Bond was to decipher the clues and find the rest of the villain spies. While he did his business something appeared right in front of him. The contact was holding a picture and going on about how they had taken out the leader of the gang, but in the background he saw the girl in blue. Only this time she wasn’t in blue but rather in white sitting in a chair looking prim and proper still, something was off about her.
    His mind raced, back to his time with her, had he been set up. Or was it she that had been setup? The latter seemed more probably, but that was no matter. Now his one thought was that hotel in France. He would be there in 3 hours on the train.
    “Oui…”
    “Merci…” Bond raced out onto the beach without listening for more from the attendant because he had guessed the game.
    This time in a white hat she stood on the beach in the gorgeous July late afternoon sun. Looking the same proper lady she was like a goddess to him. He was almost willing to run to her but remembered his cool. She called to him as he approached and he saw she was running toward him. But her look back over her shoulder was very worried.
    “I knew you’d come back.” She gripped him tight and they spun around.
    Further down the beach men in black suits were approaching quickly and suddenly Bond noticed they were everywhere.
    “Quickly to the water,” Bond shouted and pulled a bigger gun this time, a Glock 45 carried in his other shoulder holster.
    While they ran shots rang out and people scattered. Bond found a motor boat and commandeered it. They sped away from the shore with the men 100yds behind.
    Could he trust her, “Can I trust you?” She gave him a peck on the cheek as he held the gun in one hand and the rudder in the other.
    But he couldn’t think of that now. He navigated the boat to the south further from their assailants. Soon another boat appeared behind but Bond shot a hole in the bow before it could get far. Bond had planed for this escape. Moored off the coast about 5K South was a 15 meter Slimline Catamaran equipped with full racing spinnaker, and a twin turbine racing motors.
    “Fantastic” she screamed as they climbed aboard and she sprawled out under the canvas hovel shielding them from view to the back.
    He fired up the racing turbines as the methanol and either smoke clouded the air they sped out into the now fading sun. Soon the sails were up on the open water and the spinnaker was pulling them along at a nice clip of 20kn.
    “This pace should put us just right to avoid all that trouble since I had a decoy plane in place, they should assume we’re back in England by now. They’re probably flying over us as we speak so we should stay under the cover.
    “Now why don’t you tell me about these assailants of yours, why were they chasing you anyway?”
    “NO.” She almost screamed again but then lowered her voice. “No, let’s just stay here under the shade.
    She clearly seemed shaken and he guessed this was as much a mystery as the case he was trying to solve. So he inhaled deeply the salt air and she did the same. He was reminded of the perfume on the veranda the evening they had met.
    “I hope this shelter is good enough…” She broke off the statement more calm now.
    “Watch.”
    He undid a band and a goretex layer came parachuting down covering the canvas hugging the sturdy titanium frame on the inside.
    “75wt. waterproof canvas and 40cm of goretex insulation.” He knew that he had assuaged her fears this time. “My lady I have withstood many a good English gale in my Eva.
    She shot him a glance to see that he was smiling.
    “That’s the name of my boat dear.”
    Suddenly it was all dark and she noticed it, so he rolled the goretex back up.
    “Don’t you feel secure my lady?”
    “Why yes, of course.” But her remoteness wasn’t concealed.
    “Whatever your demons are I’m sure we can take care of them.” He motioned to a chest and opened it to reveal all sorts of automatic weapons.
    “No that’s not it, James, I do believe I can call you that yes. James…”
    Before she finished saying his name he kissed her. She didn’t resist but inside their hearts a deepening mystery gave inspiration. He pulled back.
    “Right, he said. We should talk first, of your troubles.”
    “Well, OK.” She said, but then said nothing.
    He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close as they sat at the foot of the California queen bed and leaned their backs against it.
    She still said nothing, they sailed off into the sunset. A sound then escaped from her sultry, lucid lips, “Eva, that could have been my name.”
    But he could feel her opening up to him and he left the silence in peace. Seas were calm, her scent filled his nose, he expected a smooth ride through the night on the Eva.

    These works are copyright by the author for lease by WHYS only, otherwise contact my agent, wait, that’s me.

    Revised draft please use this one

  26. 26 Mohamed Barrie
    May 27, 2008 at 16:34

    ‘Great to have you here… how long have you been waiting?’
    ‘Oh, don’t bother…just a couple of minutes, Mr Bond.’
    ‘Don’t mind those sheikhs , they think they should regiment our lives… we need to enjoy the freedom we so cherish, our values can’t be compromised.’
    ‘No, not for anything.’
    ‘London is for Londoners.’
    ‘ Armenia for the Armenians.’
    He looked deep into her eyes and noticed her pupil dilating to the point of explosion and thought hard how to quench this lust. He reached for a fur coat in his wardrobe and pressed it hard againts her chest.
    ‘But Mr Bond please… what is this? Why ? …don’t … wait for me shake to off my top for you.’
    ‘Oh, dear… needless read my act.’
    She pulled way and throw away her top. ‘I ‘m at your fancy…press, just press again…press.’
    He took the fur coat again and masssaged her bare chest . She beamed with delight as his host got on with her person. She put on smile which Bond noticed and reciprocated it.
    ‘ We can go like this all the way.’
    ‘I must let go because I must chase those guys before they get to Glascow.’
    ‘Have a great day’.

  27. 27 Zak
    May 27, 2008 at 19:20

    The one thread of existence I can see here would be something like this: the French Connection.

    TFD talks in an ethereal realm about the thoughts of Bond and about his relative engagement with Ariel. This could flow before my chapter that takes them from London to France. I suppose you could put mine last if nobody else gets them out of London, but my first instinct was a rush, so please use my second draft.

    But a possible continuation from there could be Bond discovering a black mail of the Ariel character and her potential brain washing based on the murder of her cousin Christine. That’s the conflict.

    The middle of the story is a romance so somebody get out from in between the sheets quick. And although Dwight has spelled it out literally that heavy present is hitting us over the head like a frying pan.

    The end should be the discovery of the black mail, Ariel remembering her assailants.

    T – 3:40 hours

  28. May 27, 2008 at 20:59

    Mr. Bond, the agency would like to see you about the results of the analysis of the flashcard and mobile phone information. Bond leaves his half empty glass and follows the guide to the secret compartment of the lab. They enter into a dark cave like area and the guide closes the heavy wooden arched door and there he finds a beaky eyed old lab tech grinning from ear to ear. He cannot wait to tell Bond, James Bond about the information he has just gain. As Bond comes closer, the old man is more excited about the information he has gathered. Mr. Bond, I have the details about a bombing that will happen in 24 hours in Oxford. There is a plan to blast Oxford University to nothing. We cannot let it happen. The terrorist are upset that the most educated people of the world are at Oxford and not in the terrorist organization. We must save Oxford, but how? Bond gracefully turns around and calls his old professor friend at Oxford. After a short chat, he goes and get in his car to drive across England to Oxford. Will he be able to save Oxford?

  29. 29 Zak
    May 27, 2008 at 22:16

    I’ll give my chapter a name, missed that from the first.

    Never Mix Business With Pleasure

    Here’s a few more in case you wanted them:

    “French Connection”

    “Love In an Elevator”

    “Another Night In Tunisia”

  30. 30 Jens
    May 27, 2008 at 22:34

    my name is broccoli, cubby brocolli…….

  31. 31 Zak
    May 27, 2008 at 22:56

    Even more ironic I missed the word limit but according to your statement you need 16 entires + 1 to span 8.5 hours so use mine as 5, it’s roughly 1500 words.

  32. 32 Pearse World Today Team
    May 27, 2008 at 23:54

    (From Fergus:)

    Behind a long, low dune, Khalil stopped abruptly in the shadow of a decrepit hut, its green paint peeling into the sand.

    “I just need to make one thing quite clear, Mr Bond,” said Kalil, “I need complete deniability. You know my face, even if you don’t know my real name” – a flash of smiling teeth in the gloom – “but if we get nailed going over the border it’s me that’s wearing the orange jump-suit.”
    Bond glanced at Ariel.
    She nodded almost imperceptibly, and he knew that the d’Orsay was in sync with M’s plans. Operation Subratha had to have absolute priority.
    Even if Khalil were still unproven, with the deadline so close there was no option but to trust him.
    “No question,” Bond rasped, “total immunity, total deniability.”

    halil paused, shrugging the battered Ak-47 – plaything of choice in war-zones across the face of the globe – more comfortably onto his shoulder.
    “Fine. We go in tonight. No time to delay.”

    The Libyan border post loomed in the twilight as they approached across the dusty plain, gravel scrunching under their boots.
    No-one appeared to have told the Libyans that this was a different world, Bond thought as he surveyed the chunky concrete blast walls and grim watch-towers.
    Gadaffi may have signed up to the New American Order with his pledge to give up all and any weapons of mass destruction, but his was still an isolated state of almost unsurpassed wierdness.
    Bond thought of Pyongyang in 2004 and grimaced wryly.

    Around them, the strings and loops of barbed wire around the border post were festooned with the ribbons and rags of thousands of plastic bags, desert drift, indestructible yet somehow implausibly cheerful, like cheap souk bunting.
    Bond crouched behind Ariel’s slender form, pistol in hand. He had not expected to see Subratha again.
    One of the most perfectly preserved Roman cities in the Mediterranean basin, it had always been overshadowed by its bigger brother at Leptis Magna.
    But Bond’s business was in Subratha tonight, at the vast Temple of Isis.
    If only the Americans didn’t get there first.
    Sometimes, Bond thought, I wonder whether I shouldn’t have killed Felix Leiter when I had the chance.

  33. May 28, 2008 at 00:10

    “Vodka Martini!!! wow better choice ” replied Arial.
    “It’s my favourite some times when am with beautifull ladies like you” Bond stated,closely looking at Arial, a whopping idea started swimming all over his brain cap,she looks beautiful yes! he forced him self to stop thinking of hers.
    “Bond? what are you thinking about” Arial enqires .He immediately took asip as if he was commanded to do so,he brushed his mouth with his left hand.
    “You know I was thinking, why don’t we go to my room may be we talk from there” Bond requested.Arial nodded her head a sign to have aproved his request as they headed to the corridors, he stood as if he had forgotten some thing and asked
    “Have you ever been in a hospital?” he shakes his head as if he asked a wrong question.
    “I mean..” Arial interrupts
    “Yes ofcourse many times, but why ask such question?”
    Bond started moving scratching his forehead.He checks his pockets left to right searching for the key as Arial scrubs her head on Bonds’ back.
    “I’ve lost the key” he continue searching every where,Arial laughs romaticaly with a hissing voice
    “No….no… over here you left at the Bar” she offers the key to Bond.He picked the key from her on a supersonic speed a sign that she had little if none of the rights to touch it ,he deeped his hand in the left pocket of the jacked and pulls it back in a hurry,…..

  34. May 28, 2008 at 00:36

    The first chapter has been broadcast! Read with some panache by our hired help, actor Joseph Wilkins.

    So for good or ill we must persevere.

    The above post was sent in from World Today presenter Fergus Nicol. This post picks up from Rob’s post in North Africa and takes the story into Libya and the temple of Isis in the city of Subratha.

    This brings us up to chapter 8.

    So far the writers who have been used are. (drum roll)

    Richard, Will, Hannah, Zak, Rob and Fergus.

    Next chapter will be broadcast at.

    2356 GMT chpater 2

    0226 GMT chapter 3
    0256 GMT chapter 4
    0326 GMT chapetr 5
    0356 GMT chapter 6

    0526 GMT chapter 7
    0556 GMT chapter 8
    0626 GMT chapter 9
    0656 GMT chapter 10
    0726 GMT chapter 11

    We still need three more chapters and we have to bring this story a bit of momentum and indeed some finality.

    So we need your help!

    Bring us home.

    Pearse.

  35. 35 Will Rhodes
    May 28, 2008 at 01:08

    Bond, pistol in hand, slipped by Ariel gently using her shoulder as a rest, “Excuse me” Bond fixed his eyes on the foe.

    In the mid-distance an armed guard lit a cigarette so pungent the smoke wafted around in a lazy breeze. Bond knew that quiet and surprise was his friend – he couldn’t risk a perfectly aimed shot. He scanned around the guard looking to see how he could approach without being seen or heard – then Bond looked on with total disbelief. The guard fell in comparative silence with a dagger perched perfectly in the nape of his neck.

    From behind a dimly lit pillar Ariel beckoned him to go forward – her smile would deceive any man, but now Bond had a new respect for her. Not only beautiful, but as deadly as any desert scorpion.

    “Luck?”

    “James, there is no luck in killing a man like him. And you have to understand that even if he were another 30 feet away I would still have hit my target. Not only MI5 and 6 train their people to be accurate when killing scum!” Ariel carried an expression that aroused something deep inside him.

    Kahlil joined them, “She’s good, James!”

    “Too good” Bond watched her tip-toe out into the open.

    He wasn’t prepared to put himself is danger just yet, the mission was far too important to the national interest. But like so many times in Bond’s career is was circumstance that made him act. As the butt of another guards AK-47 who was lurking in the darkness swept crushingly toward Ariel’s head; Bond fired off two rounds.

    In the amphitheatre the echo made the cracks of gunfire seem much louder and many more rounds fired. Screams of the other guards could be heard

    “Time to get under cover” Bond grabbed Kahlil and ran.

  36. May 28, 2008 at 02:41

    The story so far.

    After killing a man Bond travelled across town to a luxurious hotel. At the hotel bar he rendezvoused with the beautiful and mysterious Ariel and agreed to a meeting in her hotel room…..

    At the meeting with Ariel he discovers that she has hired him to work for a man known as Malik. She organises a further meeting.

    Bond then travels to Italy for a meeting with a contact who reveals photographic evidence of a link between Ariel and the man Bond killed at the very beginning of the story.

    James Bond then has a rendezvous with the seductive and secretive Ariel at the Cote d’Azur hotel in France.

    Ariel and James Bond are then forced to escape from a group of men chasing after Ariel and end up in North Africa. Where they are met by a contact of Ariel’s, the secretive Khalil.

    Khalil, Bond and Ariel head into the desert towards the ancient city of Subratha in Libya. Apparently on operation Subratha. Ariel also now works for the French foreign ministry as an agent.

    They get to the temple where they find it heavily guarded.

    A shoot out begins (read above post)

    At which point….

    Some questions to be addressed in the final two chapters.

    Who the hell and where the hell has Malik gone?

    What’s on the flashcard? (where is the flashcard)

    What is the link between Ariel and the man Bond killed at the beginning of the story?

    Who is Khalil?

    Need to start wrapping this up 2 chapters to go.

  37. 37 Zak
    May 28, 2008 at 03:39

    Nobody but the English would dwell on such small details as a 500mb flash card, and a cell phone…Whoa wait it was a mo-bile phone no offense intended for the slang there…JK.

    After Hannah why not let TFD follow back down from the room and establish a real reason to go to France, this establishes a conflict with the girl being somehow black-mailed, very exciting, otherwise it’s missing one. You can’t have them running all over Africa looking for a fight- bad image.

    Seriously though the only thing you can do with the Malik character South of Egypt in Africa is make him English, a government or ex-government man hired like the senior Munich operative style to take out a dangerous faction. Bond didn’t work for any private contractors and Ariel is clearly a money girl; at best like the Hadley character in Spy Game, at worst just a rag doll. So back to the old English obsession: the flash card and phone clearly had intel on the Malik character that he was turning over to a group like Al-Qaida but that is no way a significant enough event to be the conflict. Somebody should take out the terrorists in Africa and uncover the black-mail of Ariel and Malik.

    Khahil is definitely the one true friend Bond has in all of Africa at the present and he obviously has an inside angle on the terrorists.

  38. 38 Robert M
    May 28, 2008 at 04:05

    Training with Saint ‘B’

    As the bullets raced by Bond’s head and body, he found his mind flashing back in time, to the start of his training with MI-5. A memory frozen in time raced across his subconscious memory, like that of an ice pick to his brain. Bond’s mind was transported back to his classroom at the Royal Naval College where he found himself in debate with his old drill sergeant ‘B’. Over the sound of the shots being fired, he could once again hear ‘B’s voice.

    “Do you know how to speak English Bond?”

    “Yes sir?”

    “Then why do you always use such language in your reports?”

    “What Language exactly are you referring to sir; I believe it conforms to the standards of the Queens English?”

    “Wipe that smile off your face Plebe, the ‘Queen’s English’ to which I am referring to in your reports, reads more like that from a conman, than of one of her Majesty’s dedicated agents!”

    “Is it not the job of a double O to use all of his guile and skills as a conman in order to survive?”

    “Conmen chase ambulances Bond. Double O’s who are not careful learning the tricks of our trade wind up riding in them. Do you understand?”

    “Always!”

    “Come now, don’t be so down on it Bond, you may be one of the brightest stars to walk these halls, but my job is not to massage your ego, my job is to remake you in my image, so I don’t have to throw dirt on your grave before its time.”

    Now with all of the bullets flying around Bond due to his association with Ariel, he prayed with all of his soul that B’s premonition on that day would not come to fruition just yet.

  39. 39 Zak
    May 28, 2008 at 04:07

    Hey the author contributions stopped getting noted after Will, was up with that?

    What would be great is to compile the whole thing as it was read and make it a download.

  40. 40 Robert M
    May 28, 2008 at 04:17

    Training with Saint ‘B’

    As the bullets raced by Bond’s head and body, he found his mind flashing back in time, to the start of his training with MI-5. A memory frozen in time raced across his subconscious memory, like that of an ice pick to his brain. Bond’s mind was transported back to his classroom at the Royal Naval College where he found himself in debate with his old drill sergeant ‘B’. Over the sound of the shots being fired, he could once again hear ‘B’s voice.

    “Do you know how to speak English Bond?”

    “Yes sir?”

    “Then why do you always use such language in your reports?”

    “What Language exactly are you referring to sir; I believe it conforms to the standards of the Queens English?”

    “Wipe that smile off your face Plebe, the ‘Queen’s English’ to which I am referring to in your reports, reads more like that from a conman, than of one of her Majesty’s dedicated agents!”

    “Is it not the job of a double O to use all of his guile and skills as a conman in order to survive?”

    “Conmen chase ambulances Bond. Double O’s who are not careful learning the tricks of our trade wind up riding in them. Do you understand?”

    “Always!”

    “Come now, don’t be so down on it Bond, you may be one of the brightest stars to walk these halls, but my job is not to massage your ego, my job is to remake you in my image, so I don’t have to throw dirt on your grave before its time.”

    Now with all of the bullets flying around Bond due to his association with Ariel, he realized the connection between her, the flash card, Malik, Khalil, and the man he killed in the hotel room.

  41. 41 Robert M
    May 28, 2008 at 04:25

    Training with Saint ‘B’

    As the bullets raced by Bond’s head and body, he found his mind flashing back in time, to the start of his training with MI-5. A memory frozen in time raced across his subconscious memory, like that of an ice pick to his brain. Bond’s mind was transported back to his classroom at the Royal Naval College where he found himself in debate with his old drill sergeant ‘B’. Over the sound of the shots being fired, he could once again hear ‘B’s voice.

    “Do you know how to speak English Bond?”

    “Yes sir?”

    “Then why do you always use such language in your reports?”

    “What Language exactly are you referring to sir; I believe it conforms to the standards of the Queens English?”

    “Wipe that smile off your face Plebe, the ‘Queen’s English’ to which I am referring to in your reports, reads more like that from a conman, than of one of her Majesty’s dedicated agents!”

    “Is it not the job of a double O to use all of his guile and skills as a conman in order to survive?”

    “Conmen chase ambulances Bond. Double O’s who are not careful learning the tricks of our trade wind up riding in them. Do you understand?”

    “Always!”

    “Come now, don’t be so down on it Bond, you may be one of the brightest stars to walk these halls, but my job is not to massage your ego, my job is to remake you in my image, so I don’t have to throw dirt on your grave before its time.”

    Now with all of the bullets flying around Bond due to his association with Ariel, he realized the connection between her, the flash card, Malik, Khalil, and the man he killed back in the apartment. He was being conned.

  42. 42 Will Rhodes
    May 28, 2008 at 04:25

    Hey the author contributions stopped getting noted after Will, was up with that?

    Zak, there isn’t a night editor so I am standing in to moderate and doing my other stuff as well.

    As soon as I see comments to go I will approve them. 🙂

  43. May 28, 2008 at 05:05

    Due to the lack of time we are having to make one super chapter to bring this Bond bonanza to a conclusion.

    Robert we will definalty use some of yours I am not sure we have time for a extended flash back sequence but I do like the idea of a character B to add to Q and M.

    Joseph our acot for the day is currently compiling the last chapter so any help would be greatly welcome.

    Thanks for all your help so far,

    Pearse.

  44. 44 Stu
    May 28, 2008 at 05:07

    Bond, Ariel, and Kahlil rounded the guard’s slumped figure and raced down a long ionic column lined corridor. Suddenly, the alarm siren came to life and spotlights ignited throughout the camp. Bond checked the handles of the doors which lined the corridor as he passed by. After no luck with the first two, he motioned for Kahili and Ariel to stop and conceal themselves behind one of the pilars. Bond quickly detached the back of his watch and fixed it to the lock mechanism. He turned his head, pressed the center button on his watch and the lock broke free with a slight pop. They scurried inside pistols at the ready.

    “Kahili.. door”, Bond whispered, while pointing at the desk and chair in the sparce office. While Kahili secured the door, Bond grabbed Ariel by the wrist and throat and shoved her against the wall.

    “What exactly do the Libyans have?”

    “I don’t know”, gasped Ariel

    Bond slapped her once across the face, “I can squeeze much much harder… now come clean or none of us are getting out of here”

    Kahili pressed a finger to his lips for silence as the thump of combat boots running by the door could be heard. They passed by but Bond knew they had only moments.

    Ariel stared at the floor, gave a small sigh and said, “they have a pershing 2 intercontinental ballistic missile”. Bond’s grip loosened on her neck. “They have Malik and have probably tortured him into giving up the launch codes.”

    Bond’s eyebrow raised, ” so why haven’t they launched it yet”

    “The flashcard contains the GPS correction, it’s a conventional weapon not nuclear, so it must be accurate” stated Ariel

    “and you wanted me to retreive the flashcard so you could exchange it for Malak”, said Bond sarcastically

    “No… I wanted…” suddenly there was a thump on the door.

  45. 45 Zak
    May 28, 2008 at 05:11

    No no, silly. [ dialog like gollum: ungrateful to the core ] I meant the authors of the Bond Novel, after Hannah they concluded 3 from my engorged wealth of paperback novel dreams. Can you imagine the gall; not giving credit to anyone but you? Unbe…

    I like the Naval reference, Robert, Bond had to be one hell of a Seal.

    Cheers- hows it coming with that agent Will?

  46. May 28, 2008 at 06:12

    Ok that’s it a wrap thank you all for your contributions Stu leaves us on a cliff-hanger but there was far too much to be coherently resolved in 300 words. A very interesting way of making live radio if somewhat unpredictable.

    Perhaps one day we shall find out what happened to the lovely lady Ariel and the mysterious Khalil and indeed Malik.

    Many thanks to everyone who contributed.

    I will post on the site about options for getting hold of the audio.

    Best,

    Pearse.

  47. 47 Zak
    May 28, 2008 at 06:24

    All joking aside it was a blast, thanks a lot for the air time. You guys succeeded where the LA Times failed and that’s saying something.

  48. 48 Will Rhodes
    May 28, 2008 at 16:35

    No agent yet, Zak.

    I have just listened to chapter 2 and I didn’t realise it was raunchy! LOL

  49. 49 Dennis :)
    May 28, 2008 at 16:47

    I could not a write a Bond novel….

    Bond’s life was very RAUNCHY…But from time-to-time, the naughty
    things in life is always good…

    Dennis
    Madrid, U.S.A.

  50. 50 Sandra Patricia, Colombia
    May 28, 2008 at 17:06

    Gee! I’m not a good writer; I’m not that keen on Mr. Bond… but I love reading your amazing ideas!

    It will be a great story! Just love it! 😛

  51. 51 Zak
    May 28, 2008 at 19:52

    MI6 wants you to be a Bond Girl 007!

  52. 52 ZK
    June 2, 2008 at 11:18

    Looks like it’s up for ‘listen again’ on the World Service site:

    http://www.bbc.co.uk/worldservice/news/2008/05/080526_james_bond.shtml


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