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 Timothy Dalton- "The Crimson Hour"

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Hilly
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PostSubject: Re: Timothy Dalton- "The Crimson Hour"   Timothy Dalton- "The Crimson Hour" - Page 3 EmptyWed Jul 16, 2014 9:57 pm

I'm inching along with it but taking my time. Some of my stories used to suffer with rushing.

This being said, I'm already sketching the third story. I figured I'd round it out as a trilogy.
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coco1997
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PostSubject: Re: Timothy Dalton- "The Crimson Hour"   Timothy Dalton- "The Crimson Hour" - Page 3 EmptyThu Jul 17, 2014 12:47 am

Hilly KCMG wrote:
I'm inching along with it but taking my time. Some of my stories used to suffer with rushing.

This being said, I'm already sketching the third story. I figured I'd round it out as a trilogy.

Oooh…Another re-imagining of a Brosnan flick, perchance?
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PostSubject: Re: Timothy Dalton- "The Crimson Hour"   Timothy Dalton- "The Crimson Hour" - Page 3 EmptyFri Jul 18, 2014 12:49 am

Sort of, we'll see.
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PostSubject: Re: Timothy Dalton- "The Crimson Hour"   Timothy Dalton- "The Crimson Hour" - Page 3 EmptyMon Jul 21, 2014 3:38 pm

Here we go. The penultimate chapter. It hasn't gone as I hoped but not writing on it for so long probably didn't help.

Listening to TND tracks had its help, A Tricky Spot for 007 but importantly for the climax, "All in a Day's Work"...

---

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“Channel Break”


Elliot Carver paced the spacious command centre of the seacat. It had been days since he had left Australia and now the moment he had been waiting for was near. Moving from where the sea-drill was hanging he stood by the helmsman of the mighty craft. A red light came on next to a microphone which he picked up.
“Melissa, I am currently observing the American fleet as they move into position from my personal yacht. There appears to be some tension in the air. No word from the Royal Navy or what they are doing…”
As he spoke the monitors across from him showed CMG images –mostly stock images of the US Navy- as well as a woman at a desk in the Hong Kong studio.
“Do you think we are witnessing the first movements of a war, sir?”
Carver smiled holding a hand out graciously. “Who knows, Melissa, all I know is that on behalf of the Carver Media Group and the world, I shall report on it.”
“Until then, that was CMG owner and journalist Elliot Carver somewhere in the Pacific…”
The screens were muted, Carver felt Stamper approach rather than hear him. “Yes, Stamper?”
“Missiles are ready for launch. We have locked co-ordinates for both the US and British flagships.”
“Impressive, Mr Stamper as always,” Carver folded his arms across his black-tunic. “You have been a loyal…”
He had trailed off as his gaze settled on a monitor to his right above the security chief’s head. Stamper followed his gaze and stiffened, a Teutonic growl rising from his thick throat. On the screen showing the port-side pontoon was James Bond. White with rage, finger quivering, Carver pointed up at the screen. “He’s alive…and if he is, SHE is! Get them Stamper! And for God’s sake kill them!”
Stamper rushed off shouting for men and weapons.

**

HMS Turbulent had surfaced up to halfway upon her conning tower between the pontoons of the seacat about fifteen minutes before. It had been a tricky if excellent piece of helm on both the part of the steering rating and the captain using his periscope. Kitted in black fatigues and backpacks Bond and Bouvier crawled onto the sail of the submarine and made the jumps onto the respective pontoons. The submarine then submerged to assume her tracking position. Bond took out from his bag a limpet mine and began to work its mechanisms. Submarines had been used for espionage for decades and thus Turbulent had a small armoury to aid any such work. Both Bond and Pam had some small limpets as well as a handgun and ammunition. Bond had the added perk of some Q Branch gadgets. He fixed the limpet to an alcove above a door. As he glanced over to Pam on the starboard pontoon he felt a punch across his face knocking him down. Stamper howled with rage as he ran at Bond from the open doorway. Bond raised his right leg and kicked out managing to slow Stamper down but like an avalanche the German landed on him. They wrestled with Bond’s head hanging over the edge of the pontoon. Bond punched down on Stamper yet nothing could shift the man-mountain that was trying to push Bond over the edge.
Bond was then rather unceremoniously hauled over like rubbish where he splashed down into the dark waters of the Pacific.
Stamper dusted his hands off as he stood casting his blue eyes over. Pam Bouvier was in the grip of two of his men, shouting and screaming. Stamper called over: “Bring her to Carver!”
Stamper waited a moment checking the pontoon then went inside.

**

“Ah Miss Bouvier. It seems you missed Mr Bond becoming my first deep-sea anchor,” Carver chuckled at his little joke as Pam was brought to a halt before him. He now was in the command area with its banks of consoles and monitors backing upon the sea-drill holding area itself above a slight space of open water. “I knew my plan at Melbourne was too simple but then it won’t matter soon.”
“Yeah, our fleets will smash this tin-can into bits and you with it.”
Carver nodded. “Hmm, nice bravado my little bitch but let’s consider your logic. They kill me, they kill you.”
“I’ve died before,” she said off-hand. She felt like she had before. Some of her work with the Army and most of it with CIA had run things close. The business with Sanchez had been beyond dangerous. She invited danger wherever she went. Thinking of James she mentally groaned. What a way to go.
“Still, we’ll be firing soon and you have front row seats. I can’t for the life of me wait so standby. Are the cameras rolling, Stamper?”
“They are. Satellite feed is coming online so CMG in Hong Kong and Los Angeles will have the images a few seconds later through delay.”
Pam could see a radar screen that showed a field of dots up the left and also the right. The British would stay on course until they came under fire out of stubbornness and the Americans would do the same. Then, if a suitable time passed without success Turbulent would torpedo the ship.
“Launch,” Carver ordered.
Two missiles carved out of the sea-cats hull on both sides into the night sky. After a few seconds they levelled out.

**

In spite of having HMS Hermes Admiral Richard Kendal had chosen the Type-23 frigate HMS Winchester as his flagship. There was something old fashioned and preferable about having a frigate as his flag than a bulky if reliable carrier. Winchester was out on her own, acting as a point but also picket ship. The fleet was spread out with no more than a mile or two separating them. Kendal wore a blue overall and white smock as did everyone else in the command room behind the bridge. Kendal had a headset on through which he heard the sigh of his number one –the ship’s captain.
“Admiralty order doesn’t make sense. Stealth boat, my ar…I mean, really, sir.”
Kendal chortled. “Captain, one has learnt never to underestimate the Admiralty. Roebuck wouldn’t be the kind to send off fanciful messages like that for no reason.”
“This is the PWO, sir,” came a frightfully squeaky voice.  The Principal Warfare Officer nicknamed the Pee-Wo (and this in officer’s case ‘Helium’) was down the room from the admiral. “Incoming missiles at green five-oh!”
“Evasive manoeuvres activate the chaff,” Kendal commanded. An external monitor showed a white streak of light move in at speed. The missile impacted in the water astern of the frigate throwing up a small wave that slapped against the ship. Kendal cursed. “I think that was a warning shot. Signal the Admiralty. ‘Have been fired upon by missile. Am preparing countermeasures’.”
“American fleet also took a missile, sir,” said the Pee-Wo.
“None of us fired,” added the second Weapons Officer in front of Kendal helping to monitor the radar and sonar.
“But the Yanks won’t know better,” Kendal toggled his microphone. “Bridge, get ready for maximum speed.”
As he ended the line he rubbed his nose. “I think this idea of a stealth boat isn’t…”
“Incoming!” Pee-Wo shouted.
“Starboard ten!”

**

“Both fleets are manoeuvring to avoid the missiles,” Stamper reported.
“Good, Mr Stamper. Prepare more missiles and then move the boat away from the fleets.”
James Bond heard it all as he moved through the bowels of the sea-cat as it was relayed via speakers. Soaking wet and strongly smelling of sea-water he had only just managed after being thrown over to grab hold of something at the stern and then haul himself up. Climbing up a works ladder he effected an entrance via an open hatch in the rear. There he took stock. He had lost his little bag of tricks and he assumed Stamper had taken his mines and thrown them.
But he still had his cigarette case. Bond had reached inside and took out around five cigarettes that were stuck together. Placing them on the inside of the hatch he then twisted each end of each cigarette prompting little green lights to start blinking. He then made off slinking down a corridor before surprising a man in what looked like riot gear. After disposing of the body and now armed with an MP5K he headed off.
Hearing Carver’s order and knowing that two missiles had already been launched Bond headed for the engine room. Ships had changed since Bond’s days in the Royal Navy but the premise remained the same. Slipping inside the engine room entrance he crouched looking around. The sea-cat was powered by two Rolls-Royce engines similar to the type that powered much of the Royal Navy now including the Invincible-class carriers. Just as he stood a man in black trousers and t-shirt appeared on the gangway ahead of Bond. The two stared at each other before Bond fired tearing down the engineer. Bond hurried forward and took the mans Desert Eagle. There were no alarms sounding, perhaps the sound of the engines had deafened the bullets.
“Time for a stop,” Bond said as he fired his machine gun into the luminous dials on a central console. As he stopped there came a loud whining and low moaning followed by thunderous silence. A monitor above Bond’s carnage showed digits decreasing signifying that the boat had indeed come to a stop.
“Find out what’s happened!” Carver was demanding.
Bond ran across the room just as men in black Kevlar appeared at the opposite end. They did not see Bond as the door closed on him in time but they saw his damage.
“Mr Carver, the engine room controls have been destroyed,” reported one with a thick accent. “It’ll take time to repair.”
“Do what you can, or you’ll die,” Carver snarled up on the bridge. He began to pace, suddenly unsure. The reassuring vibration through the deckplates had gone and with it his way of getting out. Seeing Pam’s smirk he went to hit her but stopped himself. “You can’t win, Miss Bouvier. I’ll have the last word.”
“Go to hell.”
“Newsflash, Carver!”
Carver’s eyes went wide, he pushed past Bouvier who managed to turn round still held by her guards who turned with her. Carver stood on the edge of the cavernous interior gripping the railing. Standing in the middle of the interior below and to the right of the sea-drill was James Bond. Bond had in his hand a cigarette case.
“Why won’t you just die, Mr Bond? You really are tiresome.”
“You know what they say, Carver, you only live twice. Once before you’re born and once before you die,” at that Bond pressed the side of his cigarette case. Astern the cigarette-explosives went off with a loud thawump. Flame shot into the air but importantly there was damage done to the interior. Carver looked on dumbstruck as Bond drew a Desert Eagle at him. Carver shrieked and took cover as did the guards holding Bouvier. She took a run at the railing and leapt over it. Bond caught her but still went down in a heap.
“Fancy meeting you here,” he said before going to untie her binds.
“You think the fleets saw the explosion?”
“Time will tell. We need to get Carver and make sure the Navy does see this piece of steel.”
Together they ran.

**

“This is the Sonar Officer, sir; we just detected something on our scope. It wasn’t there a minute ago, sir.”
Admiral Kendal had been stood behind the Pee-Wo who brought up a new radar plot on the monitor above one showing the American fleet. As the dial swept round it first showed the rest of the Royal Navy task force then showed a faint dot ahead of them by a few miles.
“Are you sure, Sonar?”
“Positive, sir. I’ll stake my pension on it.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, alright number one…Weps, this is the Admiral. You have a new target.”
The Weapons Officer was shown the target. “Sir, it’s too faint to get a positive lock. I could be sending missiles into the US Navy.”
“Do it the old fashioned way then!”
The captain joined Kendal. “Sir, you think it’s that stealth boat that the Admiralty were on about?”
“Possible. Comms, have the Americans said anything?”
There was a pause; the communications officer had been contacting his opposite number more in hope than anything else. “Aye sir, they say ‘We have the contact too, Winchester. All yours. Good hunting.”
Kendal grunted. “Then we go for it. Captain.”
The captain of the frigate considered his order. He also considered the captain of the Belligerent who had accidentally started all this mess by sinking the Wilkes. If this had all been arranged by someone and that someone was on the stealth boat…
“Standby to fire, we’ll get our range, hit it and then go full tilt.”
Seconds later the Winchester’s 4.5 inch forward turret began firing shells into the night sky.

**

On the sea-cat Bond and Pam were under the bridge when they stopped. A high pitched whine could be heard. Bond grabbed her and shoved her down covering her body just as shells tore into the sea-cat’s side. A loud explosion blazed into the hold knocking the sea-drill about on its cradle. Looking at the fire Bond shouted: “I think it’s safe to say we’ve been spotted.”
Getting to their feet they came under fire from Carver’s men down by the stairs leading up into the bridge. Bond fired back and shoved Pam through a doorway.
“Still think we’ll get out of this?” Pam shouted above the noise.
“By hook or by crook,” Bond shouted back checking his Desert Eagle. “I’m almost out.”
“Full clip,” Pam showed him and smiled. “Must be lucky.”
“You go down here, I’ll go around. Try to surprise Carver. I want him.”
They parted; Bond scurried away down a separate corridor when he was attacked. He was knocked by one of Carver’s Kevlar wearing goons. Bond leapt back upon the man twisting the helmet until he heard a snapping sound. Dropping the body, Bond bent to check for weapons and found a knife and Uzi. It seemed the menagerie of weapons was a varied one on this ship. Bond checked the clip and slammed it home grimly. He poked his head round a corner at the end of the corridor looking at a set of stairs that led up in a spiral. He headed for it, grabbing hold of the banister with one hand he raced up it. Tucking into a roll he came up on one knee and sighted Carver. The news baron was stood against the railing watching the chaos and destruction with grim realisation. Bond straightened slowly advancing on Carver.
Carver for some reason chose that moment to turn round his eyes dull. “Mr Bond, my plans will be realised. We have missiles still in case you forget.”
“In case you don’t realise, Elliot, those shells landing are from a British frigate. You’ll be dust soon. Destroying any of our ships won’t provoke the Americans.”
“I have the pictures,” Carver said with a sweep of his hands. “I also have a helicopter that will get me away. Do you?”
Bond was about to reply when a shell came screaming down above them. A huge section of the ceiling gave way in a furious display of molten steel and flame. Carver was thrown to the ground by the force of impact, most of which landed behind him and made some of the bridge level give way. Bond was also thrown down but was able to get back up unlike Carver who began to slide down the level towards a scene from Dante’s Inferno. Bond slowly walked up to him. Below Carver the deck was a mess of flame and metallic rubble. Carver looked up at Bond with wild eyes.
“Help me! You have to help me!”
“What about the crews of the ships you killed? Those who were going to die just so you could get your story?”
“I mustn’t die!” the news baron’s fingers slipped on the metal and he inched down feet dangling uselessly over the edge. Bond crouched reaching out to grasp Carver’s fingers of his right hand.
“As a newsman you’ll appreciate that the public should always be given what they want. Happy sailings, Elliot.”
At that Bond twisted the fingers making Elliot Carver release his grip on the metal involuntarily. With a scream the Australian flew backwards into the pit below. Bond looked down for a moment and then away. Job done. He looked about for Pam wondering why she wasn’t up here yet. Then he saw her down below under the sea-drill. She was hanging by a chain from the sea-drill’s belly with the chain wrapped around her midriff. Next to her holding a length of chain in one hand was Stamper with a look of pure hatred in his blue eyes.
“You killed Carver!”
“It was his time to go!” Bond shouted back putting away his gun and holding his hands up. “Let her go, Stamper!”
Another shell landed close by. Winchester had the range by now as well as a fully lit contact. Coming in from the opposite direction was the older frigate Portsmouth. Both guns ranging and firing. The Royal Navy was striking back.
“Wrong choice of words, Bond!” the German cried and let his length go. With a silent scream Pam shot down past the decking into the water below. The chain kept running until it suddenly jerked stop prompting the sea-drill to rock above. Bond stared at the water then nodded as if something had been confirmed. Wordlessly he took a step back then ran at the railing, landing both feet on it he launched himself up and managed to grab the chain above the sea-drill. Stamper roared with rage as Bond balanced himself atop the sea-drill which bobbed on the chains violently. Bond tore at a panel atop the drill which exposed some wires. He took a punt and ripped some of the wires out. There was a spurt of electricity and some loud bangs before the three diagonal blades of the drill began to whir into action. Stamper began to haul himself up the chain from below with titanic thrusts of his thighs. Bond glanced down.
“Time to wash away the spider, Stamper.”
Bond leapt off the drill landing in the water with a splash. He gasped at the coldness of the water but was able to draw his Uzi. Hoping for the best he fired a burst up at the drill. His bullets clanged off the chain some of which had been weakened in the attack. It was enough for the chain above snapped. With a metallic groan the sea-drill tilted downwards then dropped. As it plummeted so too did Stamper –the chain above broken. Yet he survived the fall for a few seconds before the drill went into the deck mangling him as it carried on through to the surface underneath. Bond smiled grimly then looked up as shells screamed in en masse. He dove under the water with a kick and began to swim downwards following the long chain that swam in the artificially lit water. He reached Pam who was losing consciousness her cheeks losing the puffiness of a swiftly held breath. As he reached her and slapped his lips to hers to breathe air in the sky above was lit brilliantly as HMS Winchester’s shells finally hit home and destroyed the sea-cat. The stealth boat crumpled under the assault its twin hull splitting down the middle and imploding. Huge bits of the ship were thrown for miles around before it completely was finished off.
Bond backed off seeing the chain drop away from Pam. Pam opened her eyes wincing as she did. He stroked hair from her brow and jerked a thumb up.
Nodding Pam Bouvier kicked her feet and followed Bond up to the surface.

On the Winchester there were some cheers as Weps confirmed that the target was destroyed. Admiral Kendal took his headphones off calling out: “Comms, signal the fleet to turn around and then inform the Americans we will not be engaging nor even considering engaging them.”
After a moment the Comms officer reported to the Admiral. “Sir, Admiralty order us to search the water for survivors. We’re to look for a man and a woman.”
Kendal was somehow not too surprised. “Oh?”
“Something to do with the MoD, sir.”
That definitely was not surprising. Kendal smiled and turned. “Captain, you heard the order. Organise a search.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” the captain grinned and headed for the bridge.

---

epilogue soon...
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PostSubject: Re: Timothy Dalton- "The Crimson Hour"   Timothy Dalton- "The Crimson Hour" - Page 3 EmptyMon Jul 21, 2014 5:46 pm

EPILOGUE

“Someone Usually Dies”


“Moneypenny, inform the relevant sources that “Elliot Carver died in a tragic accident on his luxury yacht in the mid-Pacific.” Add that he was last seen enjoying his publicity.”
“Yes, sir,” Moneypenny wrote the notes and adjusted her glasses. “What about James and Miss Bouvier?”
M gestured to his telephone. “Admiralty have the Winchester looking. Won’t be long now.”
Moneypenny went back to her office to type up her notes. Bill Tanner swung into the office with a grin. “Another job done, hey, Penny?”
“You’re far too happy, Bill.”
“I never did care for Carver or his news group,” the chief of staff gestured to the red door. “Can I go in?”
Moneypenny pressed a button and Tanner went in. She shook her head and smiled.

**

Pure luck had Bond and Bouvier picked up by the Winchester. Found as they were amongst the debris of the stealth boat. They were briefly talked to by the admiral and captain before being allowed to rest in the spare day cabins usually reserved for flag officers.
“The American fleet has started its own withdrawal; they have the luxury of having Pearl Harbour to head to. We’re crawling back to Hong Kong,” said Admiral Kendal during what passed as a debrief.
“Looks like Carver will become a footnote in history,” Pam said to Bond as they stood outside the day cabins behind the bridge. “What about us?”
“In our line of work we’re not even a footnote,” Bond stood back to let a rating pass by. Beneath their feet the engines of the frigate were at full pitch now leaving the last resting place of Elliot Carver behind. Two ships would remain behind to thoroughly scour the debris field and ensure there was nothing left of note that would-be scavengers would make use of. To the world at large Elliot Carver died in a yachting accident as well as the two fleets nearly coming to blows but saved by some kind of divine last minute intervention akin to Kennedy in the Missile Crisis. Tensions between the two nations would cool. America would continue to rise and Britain continue to search for her place in the world.
After the rating past Bond saw that Pam had opened her door and was grinning mischievously. “Fancy a nightcap, Commander?”
“In the service we called this going on manoeuvres,” Bond grinned back and followed her into her cabin.
A rating tasked by the captain on keeping an eye on their guests arrived a moment or two later and rapped his knuckles on the door. “Commander Bond? Anything I can get you?”
There was no response save for a muffled giggle that sounded decidedly feminine. The rating swallowed then saw one of his counterparts arriving to see to Miss Bouvier.
“Er, not so fast Taffy, the commander and colonel are…shall we say, occupied…”
Taffy chuckled and went to turn away. “Best leave them to it, right?”
“Right.”
The ratings went in opposite directions whilst over the masts of the ship the morning sun started to rise.

END

Timothy Dalton’s James Bond will return in the concluding part of the trilogy: “The Mirage of Fate”

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coco1997
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PostSubject: Re: Timothy Dalton- "The Crimson Hour"   Timothy Dalton- "The Crimson Hour" - Page 3 EmptyTue Jul 22, 2014 3:48 am

A very enjoyable read and great improvement over the original film.

Looking forward to part 3 of the trilogy. Title sounds intriguing.
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PostSubject: Re: Timothy Dalton- "The Crimson Hour"   Timothy Dalton- "The Crimson Hour" - Page 3 EmptyWed Jul 23, 2014 9:59 pm

I took it, like this story, from PK's list of titles. This latest incarnation would take place around 1996 I'd wager by which time Dalton would either be at the end or coming to the end of his tenure.

Assuming there was no legal wranglings, a third Bond film could've happened in 1991 for Dalton, then 1993 and about 1995/6. As he was signed up until not long before GE started rolling (so to speak) than who knows.
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PostSubject: Re: Timothy Dalton- "The Crimson Hour"   Timothy Dalton- "The Crimson Hour" - Page 3 EmptySun Aug 31, 2014 10:59 pm

Did you ever put together a "cast list" for this one as you did with "TMOF"?
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PostSubject: Re: Timothy Dalton- "The Crimson Hour"   Timothy Dalton- "The Crimson Hour" - Page 3 EmptySun Aug 31, 2014 11:21 pm

Kind of, it was a small almost byline in the opening post. Expanding:

Timothy Dalton- JAMES BOND
Michael Kitchen- BILL TANNER
Geoffrey Rush- ELLIOT CARVER
Caroline Bliss- MONEYPENNY
Carey Lowell- PAM BOUVIER
Gotz Otto- STAMPER
Geoffrey Palmer- ADMIRAL ROEBUCK (FIRST LORD OF THE ADMIRALTY)
Michael Gambon- ADMIRAL RICHARD KENDAL (HMS WINCHESTER, BRITISH TASK FORCE)

the lower you go the trickier. Michael Byrne is seared into my mind as the admiral on HMS Bedford in the film ("Sink that thing!") and so on. Gotz Otto is debatable. But then TND was 1997 and as above this could've been 1995-97 so no reason why he wouldn't.
If Carver pilloried Rupert Murdoch then I think Rush would work. Next to that Sam Neill, not long after JP in 1993 but just about the right age.
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Timothy Dalton- "The Crimson Hour" - Page 3 Empty
PostSubject: Re: Timothy Dalton- "The Crimson Hour"   Timothy Dalton- "The Crimson Hour" - Page 3 EmptyTue Sep 02, 2014 11:05 pm

Ah, I must have missed that. It's a shame Rush never had his hand at a Bond villain.
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