The morgue had that smell that M hated so much. Disinfectant and surgical spirit. She stood and looked at the figure laid out before her, his face white and bloodless. There was no mistake, it was James Bond, her best agent, on the table in front of her. Bond was dead.

She had been called down to formerly identify the body, a nod to the doctor standing across the table from her was all that was necessary to confirm it. To see Bond like this was utterly heartbreaking, though she didn't show it. Outside she was as cool and calm as always, but inside she was angry as hell. The body had been delivered to the MI6 building in a packing crate, no note, no indication of who had done this or why.

His body was unmarked, at least as unmarked as it ever was. There were the usual bruises and scratches of his vigourous lifestyle, but Bond had not been on assignment, this was completely unexpected.

 "The cause of death still hasn't been determined?" M said to her assistant, Robinson.

"No Ma-am, not until we've done an autopsy," M grimaced slightly at the thought. It seemed like sacrilege to do such a thing, but there was no room for sentimentality in such a situation. She had greatly admired Bond, but she never told him. For all he had done for his country he deserved the biggest of state funerals, with full honours, but she knew that was impossible. All of them lived in the shadows, unseen and unappreciated, never getting the thanks they deserved. Sometimes that was the hardest thing to accept.

M turned to leave, there was no more point in standing around, there was business to take care of.

"Well, I suppose we'd better see about assigning a replacement, you've got the candidate list?" Robinson looked through the blue folder marked 'Top Secret' that he'd been carrying, and then had to jog to keep in step with M, who hadn't slowed to wait for him.

"Yes, there are four names on the list..." before he had the chance to continue they turned a corner and entered a small lift.

"You know we've never lost a 007 before," said M, wistfully, "all the previous Bonds have retired, I think they're all still alive, somewhere."

The elevator reached the 8th floor and they both stepped out. Robinson continued,

"As I said, four candidates, two are unavailable,"

"Unavailable?" M asked.

"Er yes, candidate A is on a deep-cover operation in Afghanistan, C is currently in prison in the USA."

"What about B?"

"Refused." They reached M's office and walked into the reception area where Moneypenny was typing dutifully away. Even she seemed subdued, there was no humourous greeting or smile when she saw M or Robinson.

"Yes, he was briefed this morning, but didn't want the job." M knew that was final, even if the candidate changed his mind, there was no second chance. Hesitation was not a quality they could tolerate.

"Which leaves us with just one?" Said M.

"Yes, a late addition to the list, but more than qualified," said Robinson.

M walked up to her office door.

"Did you bring them in?"

"Yes, they're waiting for you in your office."

"Well then, let's meet him." M opened the door and briskly stepped inside.

"Not him Ma'am, her," said Robinson, out of earshot.

In the chair across from M's desk sat an athletic looking woman in naval dress uniform, she stood up as M walked in, but looked as though she wasn't sure whether she should salute or bow or curtsy, so she did nothing. M walked around to the drinks cabinet and poured herself a whisky, it was one of those days, and nodded towards her visitor by way of an offer to pour her one too. "Oh, no thank-you Ma'am, not while I'm on duty."

"At ease Commander, you're not on duty now," M reassured as she sat down. Robinson came in with more paperwork and closed the door behind him.

"Commander..." before the woman had a chance to introduce herself M cut her off.

"No names here, please. I'm 'M', and for the moment you're 'Candidate-D'."

There was a pause as M eyed the young woman with great interest and curiosity. Certainly, she didn't need to consult the file to see that this officer's credentials for the job were good enough, otherwise she wouldn't even be on the list, but the fact that she was the only eligible candidate bothered her. She'd like to have at least had a choice.

"Look Ma'am, I don't know what this is about, but if I'm in any kind of trouble I'd like to know."

"Oh, your not in trouble, at least not of your own making," M looked up at Robinson, "you haven't briefed her?" Robinson shook his head.

"Two hours ago she was aboard the HMS Bedford, we had her flown straight here."

"Well then, Candidate-D, let's get straight to business shall we?"

"Yes, let's," Candidate-D retorted, her patience running thin. M sensed the same healthy disrespect for authority at least, that was something that all of the previous incumbents had shared.

"We're offering you the chance of a lifetime, the job everyone wants but few ever get. We've followed your career for some time and we think you've got the initiative, resourcefulness and intelligence to be one of our top agents." Candidate-D just looked stunned. "If you accept you'll be assigned the status of double 'O', licensed to kill. It's not an easy job, in fact it's downright dangerous, but you'll be doing some of the most important work it's possible to do. And, you'll be serving your country of course, which is why you signed up to the Navy I assume." M finished and in less than a second heard the response.

"I accept. Yes, in a heart-beat, I'll do it." M was impressed at the level of enthusiasm, but a little concerned at the naivety. How old was this woman? Did she really know what she was getting into? Did any of them?

M smiled, but it was a flat and empty smile, under the circumstances. "Good, welcome to MI6 agent 007, Agent Bond" a thought crossed M's mind and she looked to Robinson for some help. He shrugged and offered by way of suggestion,

"Bond? Jane Bond?"


To Be Continued ...