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 Lazenby in Diamonds Are Forever (final 3 chapters/complete)

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Hilly KCMG
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PostSubject: Re: Lazenby in Diamonds Are Forever (final 3 chapters/complete)   Sat Dec 29, 2012 11:24 am

Chapter Sixteen
“The Breaking Point”


Bond woke in his hotel bed feeling quite naked, at that rarely for him he was feeling quite self-conscious. Perhaps it was to do with the fact that Tiffany Case was sat on a chair by the window looking at him that made him feel self-conscious. Or maybe it was the fact that Bond was fraying at the edges. He gathered the duvet in spite of the sweaty stickiness threading his body.
“Morning,” he croaked his throat still raw from the infernal mud experience. Sometimes when he breathed it felt as if he was still encased in the substance. He saw the tired expression on her face. “How long have you been here?”
“Long enough,” there was none of her spark there. She stood carrying the chair to a corner out of Bond’s sight. “You’ve been out for a fair few hours.”
“I guess I needed it.”
Tiffany’s harrumph was enough for Bond to know he definitely did need it. “What about Felix?”
“He’s been with Whyte the entire time trying to get stuff out of him. What’s changed with his empire in the time he’s been away. Felix was trying to send you away but Whyte’s physician kind of countermanded that.”
“Sensible man.”
“Damn it James,” she said quietly traced with edginess. She reappeared in his line of sight hands on her slender hips. Her red hair was caught by the sun rising through the crack in the curtains. She appeared to take on an ethereal quality that Bond found fascinating. “The doc said you’re lucky. Severe dehydration, rib injuries, possible spinal problems...”
“Men have escaped camps with more.”
“You really don’t get it...,” she lifted a hand pointing then waved it laughing derisively. “What about someone’s way of saying thank you?”
Thank you...you have wonderful eyes and brilliant...ear lobes...
He actually stammered. Not since his school days when the cane was readied had Bond stammer. “T-thanks...Tiffa...”
“Tiffany,” she finished walking over with a frown. Putting a hand on his brow she whispered. “Oh James, you need your rest.”
He pushed the arm away. “I don’t need your pity.”
“I wasn’t giving you the pity you arrogant ass!” she shouted so loudly he actually feared damage to his ear drums. “I’ll be damned if you continue to treat me like an idiot or one of your many conquests.”
Felix, he thought or maybe he had been sleep-talking. Rabid incessant yammering...
“Who was Tracy?”
Teresa was a Saint, my name is Tracy.
Yes, Tracy...she is my daughter...
Tracy, head for the trees!

“She was my wife.”
Tiffany backed up blinking. “You were married?”
“Was. It didn’t last long.”
“Who walked?”
“She was killed on our wedding day by Ernst Stavro Blofeld,” he whipped the duvet aside lurching to his feet covering Tiffany’s frantic apologies. “Stow it, Tiffany.”
He went into the shower trying to cool down but it was no use. God his head thundered so. Coming out he dried then found some clothes. Jeans and a polo-neck t-shirt with WW inscribed on the breast.
“Where’s Felix?” he growled trying to fasten his jeans’ zipper. What the hell was wrong with him?
“Penthouse...”
He cut off her protests. “Sit down and shut up. I need to go and see him even if his chums don’t like it.”
“You’ve changed.”
“I’m tired,” he countered. He felt like he could smash his fist through a wall yet a moment ago had fumbled with a zipper. He went to the bed next to where she had sat reaching under for his suitcase. It had better not been touched or his task was going to become much harder. Or at best, different. Setting aside piles of clothes he lifted up the fake bottom to pull out a Magnum 357. He plucked six cartridges out loading the gun ending by spinning the chamber and slamming it shut. He shoved it into jeans pocket, the pocket so tight it was more or less a holster. Putting it in just under his jeans was stupid.
“James. Just be careful. I don’t think you’re all that welcomed.”
“Even after I helped find Whyte, albeit circuitously?”
He crossed to the balcony pushing the curtains then the doors aside. As he turned to face into the room arms outstretched Tiffany interrupted by jerking a finger at the room’s door. “James, thattaway?”
“I need some air,” was the answer as he gripped the frame before pulling. Bond shortly vanished above the doorframe his legs briefly dangling uselessly. He hauled himself onto a thick ledge taking a moment to catch his breath. The height told from up here even if the air was still heavy and unmoving.
Kill Blofeld.
He shook his head. Did anyone else hear that? He began to inch along the balcony running down this side of the Whyte building. Ten minutes passed as Bond reached the corner of the building then a few more feet around it. He stopped next to a sizeable gap in the ledge the back of which was a likewise sizeable groove in the building’s face. He checked his watch as seconds later a glass lift sailed up beside him.
“Next stop, the Starlight Lounge folks mind your feet and bags. Doors closing.”
Bond smiled a little at the lift operator’s voice even as he stepped onto the roof of the lift. Out of habit he adjusted his collar as the lift resumed its ascent. Air whistled up around him finally shifting the heat. He craned his neck up seeing the top of the lift shaft fast approaching. The doors for the lounge were faintly visible in the groove. The shaft’s top was a seeming mess of cables, sharp edges and lights.
Bond tensed falling to a crouch. The lift came to a smooth stop the operator opening the doors with a cheerful: “Mind your bags folks, have a good time and be sure to press the bell for a return journey.”
Bond need not press a bell as he leapt from the lift’s smooth roof towards the small ledge to the right of the roof. As he hit the ledge feet first he slid and went off the side his hands scrabbling for frantic purchase. Holding firm he assessed his new situation. He was hanging off a five foot long ledge now above a sheer drop as the lift returned downwards. Dragging his gaze to his left he saw the roof of the building itself slant over him. He began to go that way finger over finger as he dared to do what he could without overly swinging. Any sharp movements might throw him off. Reaching the end of the ledge the sounds of Las Vegas muted below him Bond half-turned throwing himself at the slanted edge. Somehow he caught the edge of the roof and somersaulted up and over onto it. He pressed himself to the roof breathing rapidly. Some ideas seemed better in one’s head.
Standing he walked along the sloping roof to a broad skylight that glinted in the Nevadan sun. Without much ceremony or indeed, much thinking, Bond threw himself to it crashing through the glass. He sailed twenty or so feet to the ground that shone as white as an American’s tooth. Hitting it hard in a shower of glass he managed to stand dusting himself off.
“What the hell is this coming through my damned roof!” roared Willard Whyte seeing Bond nonchalantly returned his enraged expression.
“I heard someone was throwing a cocktail party.”
Behind Bond he heard Felix’s scowl even if he could not see it. “James, you’ve got some nerve.”
“Let me guess, I got past some guards on the door.”
He turned seeing the scowl and the folded arms. “Yeah.”
“Told you for years employ SAS.”
“This isn’t the time for Goddamn levity!” Felix had had enough. He pointed to the door. “Get out, James. You’re on the first flight to London.”
“No fear, Felix I’m going after Blofeld.”
“This isn’t your concern now!”
“Stop shouting,” Bond muttered flicking his look to Whyte. “Have you discovered anything new, Mr Whyte?”
Whyte looked at Felix then at Bond. “Maybe.”
“We’re going after Blofeld our own way, James not yours and not on some personal vendetta.”
Bond held his friends gaze realising that the friendship had changed right then. It might well one day turn back.
“It’s not a vendetta, Felix. Blofeld has to be stopped regardless.”
“You seem sure he needs stopping for something.”
“Rockets. I imagine he has something planned to bombard some city perhaps.”
Felix’s eyebrows rose. “That’s some idea, James.”
Of course it is. I did glean it from some of what I have seen in this place, Bond thought irritably. It stood to reason with all that Blofeld had added to the Whyte Empire that he was doing something in that area. Bond went to the transparent dome that still bore a scratch mark from earlier. He squatted his eyes running over it with keen interest.
“Your empire surely has grown a bit, Mr Whyte?”
Whyte’s shadow poured over the dome beside Bond. “You bet your boots, Mr..ah...”
“Bond, James Bond.”
“Yeh fella who helped me out?”
“Indirectly,” Bond tapped the dome sending a little tremor through. “What’s this at Zabriskie Point?”
“The Point? I’ve nothing at that place,” Whyte bent over to look closely at the dome. Bond was indicating where he had seen. A small dot marked ZABRISKIE POINT sat a few miles inside California on that side of Route 190.
“Death Valley,” whispered Bond as if confronting an old friend. “Sounds kind of right for Blofeld.”
Felix must have found files for he came over a few moments later armed with a sheet of paper. “All this says is that it’s in Death Valley. Some kind of ranch.”
“I can think of better places to put a damned ranch than Death Valley,” Whyte declared straightening. Bond shrugged.
“Felix, this is where you’re going.”
Kill BLOFELD.
“In good time, James. Blofeld would have an inside line into here that we need to cut off.”
“Then seal Saxby from the inside,” Bond muttered then headed off.
“Where are you going?” Felix called.
“My room. I have a migraine coming on.”

Bond was partially telling the truth. The migraine, headache really came with these utterances that echoed through his mind. He went straight down into the Whyte building’s garage where mercifully his DBS still was. It was also unguarded. Bond went to the boot first checking he had some of his stuff still there. The three piece rifle was something Q-Branch had tried to throw away a few years ago but Bond had insisted on keeping it. Tear gas, God knows how he’ll work this in. He slammed the boot echoing away...
“Jesus,” he whispered when the slammed boot revealed Tiffany leaning against the car. “You must walk like a cat.”
“You’re going off after him.”
“How the hell did you get down here?”
“A hunch,” she shrugged. “Actually I needed to check my Mustang. Felix used it as a ram.”
Bond stared at her then moved around to the driver’s side. “Go away, Tiffany for your own sake. This is my business.”
“You’re not thinking straight. Stay here and we’ll sort this out together.”
He turned to face her. “You’re not for that kind of dialogue. Why don’t YOU go and do something useful with your life? I’m sure WW will put you up in some high paying job.”
She slapped him then pummelled fists against his chest. Bond tried to fend them off falling back against the open door. He grunted at the sharp pain of the door’s edge in his back.
Kill Blofeld...
He took her wrists and held firm. Her eyes were moist as she stared up at him. “James, I love you.”
He smiled surprising her then kissed her on the forehead. Gently he released her. “No you don’t. You just think you do. Loving me is something that gets women killed. Just go.”
The last two words faltered. Bond could feel the darkness clawing at his periphery. He pushed her away ever so gently before sliding into the car. Pulling the door to he quickly started up racing off in short secession to the exit.
Tiffany sprinted to the garage lift.

It took Bond two hours to reach Death Valley. A steady if annoying boring drive. By now his mind was focused on Blofeld. It had narrowed to the point that nothing but Blofeld occupied his thoughts. He had mulled over what he could do and knew he would have to be quite professional up to the moment. M would have kittens if he knew what Bond was doing.
Death Valley National Park was a continuation really of the sprawling range of mountains, slopes and general rocky terrain that Bond had encountered a few miles after Las Vegas. This was definitely Blofeld terrain. Only Blofeld would find comfort and anonymity in a place like this. Slowing down Bond eventually stopped by a copse of trees that went for miles in either direction. Pine trees mostly that seemed at odds with the harsh surrounding. Trees had to grow somewhere, he supposed to himself.
Out of the car he reached onto the dashboard for the map he had found spreading it over the British racing-green hood. In the fading light he examined the map tracing a dinger over the area. Zabriskie Point, he tapped once then saw what lay between.
“The Funeral Mountains,” he chuckled. “Very apt.”
He put the map away deciding to go on foot. Likely Blofeld would have sound detectors so risking it on foot was best. He went to the boot pulling out his gun belt. On it he had his 44 Magnum as well as spare shells, two gas cans and a water bottle. This time quietly closing the boot Bond set off into the trees. At best it was five miles to Ranch Blofeld.
Bond quickened his pace.

“When?”
Tiffany shrugged off Felix’s hands. “You got to learn some manners, buddy.”
A minute before Tiffany had torn past Carl at the door straight up to Felix ignoring her boss who had been sat at his desk feet propped up Stetson lowered over his eyes. She had simply told Felix that Bond had gone.
“About half an hour ago. I would’ve told you sooner but you have some really anal agents.”
Whyte snorted from where he sat. Felix ignored him. “Then we best get going.”
“You don’t even know...”
“Zabriskie Point,” Felix went to the desk picking up Whyte’s cordless phone. After a pause he had a connection. “This is Leiter we’re advancing plans to now. Don’t ask, Harry just get the units ready. Marines too.”
Hanging up he went to the dome looking it over. “He’ll be there before we are, damn. We could go by chopper but it’ll be too detectable.”
“If we’re driving let’s go,” Tiffany headed for the door. Felix growled low in his throat after her.
“And I’ll stay right here,” Whyte drawled to the empty room.

About four miles in Bond had left the copse into the open rocky area he now walked. The sun had gone leaving behind a star-littered sky and cold. Just ahead of him was Echo Canyon which he would have to cross before he reached the Funeral Mountains. Blofeld would be just on the other side. He walked steadily on not losing breath as he climbed slopes that went on for a while before dropping. He reached a wide open space that must have been a couple of miles wide. It trailed off into the distance as a dark scar. Must be Echo Canyon. Trailing his gaze to the right he stopped when he saw smoke rising. Yes, from behind the canyon edge.
“Blofeld.”
Kill Blofeld.
Kill Blofeld
.
He slapped a hand to his head then hurried off. Drawing nearer to the edge of the canyon he stopped. Going to ground he looked over the edge. It dropped a good eighty feet maybe a hundred. Here the canyon opened into the mountain range almost like how a river’s mouth opened into the sea. The smoke was wispy as it rose from the building. A typical ranch. From this height Bond assumed it to be a one-floor affair. He saw a horse paddock to one side and two 4x4’s.
“Blofeld.”
Scrabbling back he hid in the small bits of growth. He would wait an hour then get down there.
For Tracy...

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Hilly KCMG
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PostSubject: Re: Lazenby in Diamonds Are Forever (final 3 chapters/complete)   Sat Dec 29, 2012 11:26 am

the final chapters.

---

Chapter Seventeen
“To Hell With Blofeld”


Four floodlights flashed on loudly from each corner of the hideaway’s perimeter casting pools of yellowy light on the grounds. Bond paused midway down the face of the canyon. If he was found now this would all be for nothing. If he slipped it would assuredly be over. He resumed his descent carefully making sure his fight found the right crevasses. It had now been forty minutes since he woke. His slight had been cold and stiff so the descent had been perfect in loosening up his limbs. He was relying purely on his hands and feet. There were no harnesses or spikes to help him.
He only tripped a foot above the ground hitting it lightly though hard enough to jolt his teeth together. He sat there a moment gazing over at the ranch. Smoke continued to rise yet there was also faint tremors from below. That was bound to be something relating to Blofeld. He drew his Magnum as he straightened. The sky above was a solid black with the odd star managing to poke through light cloud. Apart from the ranch Bond might as well have been the only thing out here. How to get into the ranch was not apparent to Bond. Certainly, there would no disguising himself as Sir Hilary Bray to get himself into the place.
Taking the chance that there was hidden cameras or sensors he sprinted across the half mile to the ranch aiming for between two of the lights where it was dark. Reaching the barbed wire fence Bond fell to a crouch sweeping the gun along the grounds. There was no one about which surprised and worried him. If there was no one about then the game might already be afoot.
Kill Blofeld.
Stop it, he told himself. Stop it.
Rising to his feet he leapt over the fence clearing it as not to make contact. On the other side he put away his 44. making sure he kept low as he aimed for the ranch. It took him a minute to get to the building in this instance the side of the building. He hid behind a garbage container and waited. Sweat trickled down his brow which he dabbed at with his sleeve. He felt another tremor this time stronger. It must be machinery. Looking up round the canister Bond saw a door etched into the brickwork quite innocently. It was some kind of covert entrance. Rising Bond quickly went to it for making his entrance. After a few seconds he forced the door open wondering just why it was this easy. Maybe Blofeld did not intend anyone to ever come here. Bond had simply forced the lock by putting pressure on the magnetic seal.
Once in he pushed the door to falling to one knee drawing the gun and holding it up in a defensive posture. Ahead of Bond was a corridor lined by wood-panelled walls that stretched about fifteen feet before being bisected by another corridor. It was like a hunting lodge on the inside. Bond tensed again licking his dry lips. Now a need to find a way to get to Blofeld. They must be below ground. Most of this must be below ground.
Kill Blofeld.
Tracy, an agent must never concern himself with anyone but himself.

Rising slowly he advanced cautiously gun still before him. No sooner had he started then something punched him across the face. Dazed, Bond staggered to one side. Another blow came down this time on his wrist making the Magnum fly down into the corridor. As Bond went down a knee drove into his chin snapping his head back. He hit the floor on his backside staring up stupidly at his attacker.
Kidd.
That balding slightly effeminate figure now clad in black from head to foot. Standing a few feet away having appeared from nowhere stood the larger Wint insanely wielding a crossbow levelled at Bond. Wordlessly Wint went to smash his fist into Bond’s face again. Bond rolled to his right before bouncing onto his feet using his heels to spring up. He punched Wint twice in the face smiling a little at the surprised expression even after the two punches went in. Kidd was getting twitchy with the crossbow wanting to shoot but unable to with Bond managing to keep Wint in the way. Wint staggered after Bond got a third in knocking him aside. Just as quickly Bond went to his left launching into a forward roll coming up by his gun. Picking it up deftly he aimed at Kidd who only now began to bring his bow about.
Bond fired three times the shots sounding like cannon fire the wrist aching as the Magnum snapped back hard. The side of Kidd’s head and face exploded outwards showering the nearby wall in a grisly fusillade. Kidd simply fell to his knees then onto his shattered face atop the crossbow. Bond nodded grimly.
“Never did make your point, friend.”
His victory was short lived as an enraged Wint came flying in slamming Bond into the wall. Bond struggled back against the man whose howls of rage deafened him. Once again Bond dropped his gun. He tried to wield off the blows but they came in hard. After a while Bond fell into the blackness that gathered at his visual periphery.

“Welcome back, Mr Bond. You continue to surprise me by persisting in your efforts.”
“Go to Hell,” Bond murmured as he came to. He once again licked his cracked lips as he felt his head throb painfully. It was akin to being stuck under the Queen Mary’s engines at full tilt. Fully opening his eyes he took in the area he was in. It was a cavern of sorts with rocky walls and an irregular roof that sloped jaggedly in places. Pipes ran across the middle of the roof out of the room whilst at the far side sat twenty sleek missiles. Bond focused on them. “Impressive weaponry, Frauline Bunt.”
Irma Bunt clad in black overalls chuckled. “Ja. They are our secret weapons.”
Not that secret, Bond thought. He was up against a wall with Wint a few feet away holding a rifle. Bunt was unarmed or so it seemed. No one else was in the room.
“Your operation seems quite light. Budget must be a pig.”
“Your wit will not see you out of this,” Bunt told him harshly. “We do not require legions of personnel just to accomplish our plans.”
“And what would they be?”
“For once Herr Bond you will not receive the full picture. Needless to say we will bring about a new ideal; we will show the world that we mean business.”
Bond refrained from rolling his eyes. It was about five feet to Wint. Bond reckoned he would be able to get to the man before he even realised Bond was moving.
“I would have thought what happened in the Bahamas and Japan would have deterred Blofeld from using terrorist methods,” Bond closed his eyes briefly. His head throbbed with pain and those two words ‘Kill Blofeld’ echoing dully. He opened them to see Bunt regarding him with a stone cold expression. “And you also, you little…”
“Name calling will not get you free,” Bunt walked towards him until her face was before his. He recoiled. Masquerading as Sir Hilary had dictated politeness but now he was the man who had cradled the woman in his arms who this monster had shot. “Ernst was a broken man after Piz Gloria was destroyed. All that work gone up in flames but then he came to America found this empire and made it his own. Once again you have threatened that empire but now he will strike before you do.”
“Characteristic ambition,” Bond muttered. His expression hardened. “I’ll strike first, mark my words. When I do you’ll know about it that’s for sure.”
“What is it you English say… ‘sticks and stones’,” Bunt laughed and walked away. As she did Blofeld strolled in quite innocently as if this was his usual thing.
“Irma, how is our prisoner doing?”
“Wonderfully,” she replied dryly. “We should kill him now.”
“In good time,” Blofeld stopped beside her regarding Bond carefully. “Your death will come when our missiles launch.”
“Destroying military bases won’t get you anywhere, Blofeld. Nor will killing me.”
Kill Blofeld...
Kill Blofeld...

“...did you guess that?” Blofeld was saying.
“Lucky guess,” Bond grunted biting his lip. The abyss was waiting for him. If he died let it be after Blofeld.
“Imagine all that will be written this time when you really do die,” Blofeld said chuckling. “No fake funeral in Hong Kong. Moneypenny sniffling at your gravestone. Maybe you’ll be buried with Tracy.”
Bond did not respond. Even before Blofeld had turned up the rage that had started at Tracy’s death had built over the three months steadily but only in the recent day had it surged towards breaking point. Now it had passed breaking point threatening eruption. He would kill the three of them.
“Fine,” Blofeld gestured to the missiles. “These will be used against targets we deem perfect to turn the tide.”
“Some tide. Only you and Bunt think you’re in some kind of war. I don’t think anyone else cares.”
“They’ll not care what you have done here,” Blofeld rejoined. “You have foiled me on several occasions, Bond but not this time. This time you shall die knowing I have won.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Wint, get him. Take him to the first missile. I want Bond to be incinerated when we fire.”
Bond chuckled. He was able to stop before his chuckle became a full on laugh. The madness was clawing away at him. His thirst for revenge had now reached its zenith. Indeed, he was about to erupt.
“Your remains might just make it to the China Lake Naval Weapons base if you’re lucky, Bond.”
Bond could say nothing. Wint approached putting the rifle under one arm to take Bond in tow. As Bond felt the hand approach he spun away pivoting on his right foot. He continued the pivot round flying a hard kick at Wint’s groin. Wint let out a girlish whoop as he fell. Bond went down with him punching him in the face. Wrestling the gun from him he turned now on one knee. Already Blofeld had started to run now clear halfway across the room. Bond fired the rifle cracking close to his ear. He missed then aimed for Bunt. The stocky, toad-like woman was sprinting.
“Liebchen, the missiles!”
Blofeld’s voice echoed from the tunnel he had just vanished into.
“Remote launch.”
Bond fired his shot slamming into the wall by Bunt as she too vanished. He got up walking across the room to the missiles. Each one was about four feet long, white and resembled US military missiles. Each one ticked quietly hooked up to the ground by various wires. He glanced up imagining that the roof would open.
Gunfire and the crump of grenades made him turn. As he did he saw Wint stagger towards him. Bond fired taking off Wint’s head with a direct shot to the forehead. He simply stared at the fallen body. Turning back to the missiles he searched for a control pad. The room was annoyingly empty but for the missiles.
“James!” called Felix entering the room from the other side. Bond once more turned to face his friend. Leiter had a pistol in hand whereas two Marines with him had M-16’s. Bond was vaguely surprised to see Tiffany come in.
“How’d you find me, Felix?”
“I did tell you we were on our way,” Felix frowned at Bond. “You alright?”
“Just a bruise,” Bond replied making Felix shake his head. “What’s she doing here?”
“She,” said Tiffany pointedly, “is checking up on you.”
All were distracted by the roof of the cavern starting to open. At least the portion over the missiles. In turn the missiles began to smoke as their engines started. Bond lifted his rifle checking the magazine then slamming the bolt back.
“I’m going after Blofeld.”
Kill Blofeld.
“James, you’re not...”
“Bugger off Felix, I’m going anyway. Sort out the missiles.”
As he walked away Felix shouted about Blofeld.
“There’s an escape tunnel, there has to be knowing Blofeld,” Bond replied thinking of the volcano lair in Japan. “Just get out of here after you destroy the missiles. No telling if they’ll go up.”
“He makes no sense,” Tiffany told Felix.
“I know, but let’s get going.”
Felix walked ahead to the missiles with the Marines checking the weapons over. “Sergeant I need the experts down here, raise them on the radio.”
“Yes, sir.”
When Felix glanced about he saw that Tiffany had vanished.

Bond ran down a long tunnel carved out from the rocky ground that the ranch sat upon. Lights lit the way every few feet leaving pools of shadow in between. He ran for ten minutes and in those ten minutes his mind was taken by thoughts of revenge. Some might have said that this was when Bond lost lucidity. He had lied to Felix, it was revenge and he would make sure that he would take it out on Blofeld.
After those ten minutes he turned left down a shorter tunnel then into a wide-open cavern big enough for a Boeing 727 jetliner. The ceiling came down to about forty feet off the ground and lights brightly illuminated the cavern. A series of consoles lined one wall with monitors blinking above them. At those consoles he sighted Blofeld and Bunt.
Bond began to run across the cavern. It felt like he was running across the width of Death Valley. His footfall might have given him away for Bunt turned and shouted something in German that Bond could not make out. Bunt fired her gun. Bond could not hear the bullets but saw the flashing of the guns muzzle. He dived at the ground tucking into a roll and coming up with his rifle raised. He fired twice. His shots hit Bunt in the left leg below the knee. She went down howling and holding her leg. She tried to crawl away her leg looking quite broken.
Blofeld had been busy at the console and turned to see the battle but instead saw Bunt on the ground. His face became one of thunder. “BOND!”
Bond aimed with his rifle taking a bead on him. “Morning, Ernst. This is your goodbye party.”
“You don’t have the guts.”
“Guts is something I have a lot off.”
Blofeld rushed at Bond as suddenly as a lightning bolt. Bond debated for all of a second swinging the rifle into his face but that would be too easy. He dropped the rifle then met the challenge head on. Bond tried forcing Blofeld backwards but no ground was given. Bond felt all his anger at Tracy’s death, at Blofeld, erupt at last. With renewed strength he pushed again and this time Blofeld staggered. It was enough to push him to the console where he hit with a loud crash. Blofeld looked dazed but he did not have time to react. Bond punched him twice across the face felling him. Blofeld slid down to the floor. As Bond went to kick him Blofled tripped Bond.
Bond hit the floor and Blofeld was atop him trying to strangle him. A faint sense of déjà vu came to Bond. Blofeld strangling him on the bobsled, his head hitting the wall of the run…his helmet bobbing against the side making the hollow sound...Bond felt the airflow weaken. His vision began to blacken. Blofeld began to laugh.
Bond raised a hand and hit Blofeld. Then he kicked him. Blofeld’s grip lessened enough for Bond to lunge at him. Bond landed atop him raining a thousand blows upon Blofeld’s face.
“Tracy! This…” Bond’s mind went red.
His hands fell around Blofeld’s neck. He began to choke him. In his mind images flashed through…
…lifting Tracy from the water and walking up the beach…
… ‘rescuing’ her at the casino…
…talking with Draco… “What you ask is not for me…” …
…walking with Tracy in the gardens, chasing her on the beach, holding her and kissing her…feeling things he had never felt before…
…fleeing for his life and being rescued by her…
…the barn…the proposal…
…slipping the ring upon her finger… “We have all the time in the world”…
…holding her…
…holding her…
KILL BLOFELD
Bond tightened his grip and with a howl of rage and grief he slammed Blofeld’s head against the floor. He began to bang the head repeatedly his teeth so gritted together they hurt. He howled again. In his blood lust he failed to see Blofeld’s eyes roll into his head or the breath rattle from the villain’s throat. He did feel Blofeld go limp and so let go rocking back on his haunches. Eventually he stood staring at Blofeld’s body. The basterd was dead. Bond felt quite empty. Objective done. Revenge...
Something out of the corner of his eye distracted him. He saw Bunt hobble to a tunnel leading off from the right. How she was moving was beyond Bond. He went to get the rifle. Bringing it to his shoulder he emptied the chamber into her working the bolt effortlessly.
Bunt cried out, her back arched then she fell for the last time.
“Stupid bitch,” he said tonelessly.
Bond stood shaking and went to the console. He looked it over and saw that the missiles were not even ready for launch. Taking an inspired guess he worked the console. A countdown clock stopped so he assumed he had done it.
Saved the world. Again.
Again.
Hitting the ground he held hands to his face and wept. His mind now a blank…a result of all before.

Tiffany left a corridor into a hangar with two helicopters waiting for take-off. She ran past the helicopters and stopped. Looking at one of the ‘copters she saw James huddled by a landing strut. He was face down and when she turned him over his eyes were seeing but there was a blank expression on his face. He must have crawled from the control room she had passed with the two dead bodies.
“James, are you alright?”
“Tracy?” he whispered staring hard at her.
With no time to argue she nodded. “Yes.” She helped him to his feet. “We have to get going. Get you help.”
Bond put an arm around her shoulders.
Tiffany led them to the top of the hangar and down a corridor carved from the rock that seemed to go on forever.
So they walked, leaving one world for another.




























Finale
“Just a Man


The door buzzer interrupted M’s silent reverie at the window of his office. He tore his attention from Regent’s Park his pipe drooping a fraction.
“Come.”
Miss Moneypenny walked in and closed the door. “Felix Leiter on the green scrambler, sir.”
M turned and regarded her for a moment. His secretary could simply have used the intercom but he knew she was as concerned about Bond as they all were. A terse telegram from Leiter had informed them of Bond’s disappearance. Bond and that Case girl had vanished after the Marines blew Blofeld’s arsenal to Kingdom Come. The bodies of Blofeld and Bunt had been found after a search was started. M could not say he would miss Ernst Stavro Blofeld. Yet like Sherlock Holmes with the loss of Moriarty he would miss the regular encounters providing a chance to get one over on his enemy.
“Take a seat,” M asked and went to his desk. He took the receiver from its cradle and waited a moment before speaking. “M, here.”
Moneypenny looked on as M nodded as if Leiter was in the room with them and occasionally asked something or simply said ‘yes’ or ‘no’. After ten minutes he hung the receiver up and clasped his hands before him. Unclasping them he picked up his pipe, filled it, lit it and began to steadily smoke. Moneypenny waited. M leant forward and removed the pipe as if confiding to one of his confidants at his club.
“Leiter says that in the past two days there’s been no trace of Bond,” he paused and his eyes flicked to Moneypenny. Her head was bowed. “They ransacked the hideaway and found nothing else. But Bond’s DBS has been taken from where he left it in Death Valley and his room’s been emptied at the Whyte House. Leiter also says that Bond’s account has been accessed from somewhere…San Francisco I believe he said.”
“So, James is alive!” Moneypenny said hopefully.
“I do hope so,” M replied faintly then nodded firmly. “I believe he is. It will take more than Blofeld to kill Bond. I do believe he got his revenge…”
“Sir?”
M shook his head moving to smoke his pipe once more. “Nothing, Moneypenny. You are dismissed for the day.”
“Sir, I don’t feel…,” Moneypenny began.
“Are you arguing with my decision to give you a day off?”
Moneypenny studied his stern face but saw in his eyes the faint twinkle of humour. She shook her head, thanked him and left. After she had M allowed a smile to appear but it vanished as he thought of Bond and Blofeld. He thought also of Teresa Bond. He had briefly met the woman and knew she had been right for Bond. Bond’s womanising had been just that but Tracy had been something else. Perhaps now her memory could rest.
He stood and went to stand at the window again.
Autumn would be upon them soon.

Tiffany Case stopped the Aston Martin DBS by the wood cabin and climbed out. Going to the back of the car she opened the DBS’ small trunk and pulled out two brown bags. Both bags filled to the brim with groceries from the small store down the road from Lake Tahoe. Into the cabin she went leaving the bags on the counter. She then sauntered out down to the lake. He was where she left him. Sat on a short wooden pier with a fishing rod in hands staring into the calm waters. His hair was unusually shaggy going with the thick moustache he had.
“Hey, James. Catch anything?”
He turned his face blank. “No, nothing.”
“Empty lake,” she said in a humorous tone but James Bond did not smile. He had been like that since she rescued him at Blofeld’s hideaway. There and then she smuggled him away somehow finding the DBS and driving to Vegas. They had arrived at Lake Tahoe that evening. Bond’s mind had seemed blank. He had no recollection of everything that had happened it seemed for four months. Tiffany assumed that it was some kind of post-traumatic occurrence. He barely remembered her.
“Just a man,” she said under her breath as she went to him. An expression vaguely coming to mind. “After all that he has gone through he is still a man.”
She took off her shoes going to sit beside him letting her feet dangle into the water. “I got some groceries. Feel like some food soon?”
“Soon,” Bond said in a numb tone staring into the water. Soon he would be back to normal. He had to be. She stared at three canoeists on the water as they rowed determinedly.
She nodded and leant against Bond. Tomorrow she would phone Felix Leiter and tell him where they were.
The canoeists were calling to each other. Birds clattered into the sky.
Bond said something she did not hear as she closed her eyes and smiled again.
Right now, Leiter could wait and so could tomorrow.
Tomorrow was another day.



JAMES BOND WILL RETURN IN

The Spy Who Loved Me

Featuring GEORGE LAZENBY as Agent JAMES BOND 007

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El joker
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PostSubject: Re: Lazenby in Diamonds Are Forever (final 3 chapters/complete)   Sat Jan 05, 2013 4:20 am

Brilliant finale and a wonderful read... couldn't have been written any better. This is in my eyes the end of the blofled aga as far as I'm concerned. 5 Stars and look forward to TSWLM and the Dalton Story :D
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Hilly KCMG
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PostSubject: Re: Lazenby in Diamonds Are Forever (final 3 chapters/complete)   Sat Jan 05, 2013 8:47 am

El joker wrote:
Brilliant finale and a wonderful read... couldn't have been written any better. This is in my eyes the end of the blofled aga as far as I'm concerned. 5 Stars and look forward to TSWLM and the Dalton Story :D

Most kind. Yes, this is where Blofeld should've ended and maybe how (though I'm sure if there had been a Lazenby DAF the plot would've been substantially different). The other stories aren't far from this one but the Dalton one is a 'seperate timeline' to the Lazenby's.
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