I won't be posting all of this but this is essentially what was written on the old MI6. I've yet to fully revise and edit all of the stories I've written there but for DAF which went through two re-writes and no one bothered with on the nMI6 despite being hounded by members to post it. Cretins.
--
Octopussy was to all intents and purposes the fourth literary outing of George Lazenby as Bond. Started before Russia’s conflict with Georgia, before George Lazenby’s coming divorce making the headlines and written against two World War II Bond adventures. As with the other Lazenby literary outings Octopussy combined the film and the Fleming story. Somewhere during its writing, perhaps when it neared the nineteenth chapter (usually the final chapter of my stories) it changed course. The plot strayed dramatically from the ‘line’ that TSWLM, DAF and MR followed. There was temptation to write another Lazenby after this one but this, Octopussy, remains the final one.
Weymouth, Dorset August 20th 2008
George Lazenby returns in his fifth and final adventure as
Ian Fleming’s James Bond 007 in
OCTOPUSSY
Adaptation: Ultimate Edition
contents
Prologue- Double Trouble
Chapter One- Death’s Shadow
Chapter Two- Major Smythe
Chapter Three- Bombay Mix
Chapter Four- Gamblers Unanimous
Chapter Five- Hideaway
Chapter Six- Tip of the Tentacle
Chapter Seven- The Khyber Russian
Chapter Eight- A New Brand of Terror
Chapter Nine- A Slender Lead
Chapter Ten- The Woman of the Lake
Chapter Eleven- Two of a Kind
Chapter Twelve- White Knight
Chapter Thirteen- Detour
Chapter Fourteen- Thrill of the Circus
Chapter Fifteen- Agent 153
Chapter Sixteen- Come into the Parlour, Mr Bond
Chapter Seventeen- The Bad Getting Worse
Chapter Eighteen- The Wintertime
Chapter Nineteen- The Wind by their Side
Chapter Twenty- The Narrow Margin
Chapter Twenty-One- Red Sky in the Morning
Chapter Twenty-Two- Germany by Twilight
Chapter Twenty-Three- The Bear
Chapter Twenty-Four- Extra Time
Chapter Twenty-Five- The Far Shore
Chapter Twenty-Six- Moscow
Chapter Twenty-Seven- The Man Who Sold the World
Chapter Twenty-Eight- Courage Under Fire
Chapter Twenty-Nine- The Bear in Winter
Epilogue- Come in 007, Your Time Is Up
Prologue
“Double Trouble”
“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you.”
The East German border guard paused as in mid-bend. The AK-47 lay just out of reach from where it had bounced away from the fallen man a few feet away. The German’s eyes were on the man who like the other, had come from the heavy mist to this post south of Berlin.
“Wer da?” the guard asked.
“Don’t touch,” the man repeated. He had black haired, matted and sweaty from wearing something that was absent presently. Wore all black, a jumpsuit of some kind.
“Englische.”
“Sort of,” the man finally reached the guard who straightened reaching now for his handgun. The man punched the guard adding a kick to the guard’s chest as he fell.
James Bond bent to scoop up the AK-47 shaking his head at the now unconscious guard. He then jogged to the other fallen man who wore black like him. Bond grabbed an arm hoisting him up. The man stirred, moaning loudly.
“Damn it 003, wake up!”
“F____ Off,” the voice muttered groggily. However, 003 shrugged off Bond’s hand standing by himself. “Are they still behind us?”
“Yes,” Bond glanced into the mist. “Think you can carry on?”
“Try and stop me,” 003 patted his PPK tucked into his jumpsuit. “Lead on, 007.”
Once upon a time, 003 had been sent by M to Cairo to get Bond back to Britain following the death of his wife. After a brief fight, 007 was brought back. Whereas 007 went onto Las Vegas and took eventual revenge, 003 was sent to Switzerland as a bodyguard for Sir Frederick Gray at a summit.
Bond began to walk towards the border post. The mist swirled around his ankles, as if trying to entice him back to East Germany and all the problems there. 003 paused at the border post where the guard would have been sitting. One chair, one wooden desk, a radio...notepad etc with a calendar of a buxom frauline on the wall. The radio was crackling...a German voice ordering something.
Bond was about to say something when a knife thudded into the post by 003’s head. “Christ...get moving!”
Bond had had a bad feeling about this mission ever since they had been sent to Karl Marx Stadt to confront Major Smythe. He had told Tanner that it was pointless sending two Double Oh’s to do this. Someone like 256 in Berlin would have been better off doing it.
003 hobbled past limping from the injury sustained earlier. Bond opened fire with his AK-47, blindly into the mist. Scowling at the fact he had to shoot blind, Bond turned to follow 003. 003 was on a wire fence, at the top stranded like a lame duck, Bond unceremoniously tipped him over then jumped clear.
“Welcome to West Germany.”
“Funny,” 003 growled then hissed through clenched teeth. “It hurts...if my old SOE chief saw me now...bite through the pain...”
“Shut up,” Bond helped 003 up. “Save your energy. It’s a mile to the RV.”
“What would Moneypenny say if she saw us like this?” 003 chuckled. The fellow ‘00’ went into a coughing fit. Bond saw blood fleck the corner of the other’s lips. The knife wound was causing internal damage. Bond heard Russian voices behind him from the post.
“ ‘Penny would want you get a bloody move on,” Bond did not want to see his friend like this. Back home in the service Double-Oh’s had some kind of indestructible image. Granite for hearts...and the rest. “Get moving. I’ll hold them up.”
Bond let 003 go, the agent hobbled on into the mist. Bond climbed back over the fence then saw one of the two attackers. Twins, hard Russian faces weathered by the harsh winters. they both wore black leather waistcoats over maroon shirts with black trousers and jackboots.
Bond gently put his gun down but drew his knife from his jumpsuit. The knife had been given to him many years, many adventures ago by a bewitching woman named Honeychile Rider.
The twin –was it Mishka or Grishka?- advanced from the border post. In the white mist he seemed almost ghostly. Bond launched himself from his crouch at the twin. His opponent saw him at the last moment lashing out with his left hand. Bond grunted as his nose took the brunt of the hit. Both men tried stabbing at the other with their knives but both parried, blocked...
Bond kicked with his foot tripping the Russian. The Russian went down but Bond held him from hitting the ground then plunged the knife into the twin’s stomach twisting hard.
The Russian cried out, his eyes widened then he was dead. Collapsed at Bond’s feet.
Bond wiped the knife on the man’s leather jacket then hurried back into West Germany. He moved quickly across the grass from the fence. He made out some drops of blood on the ground but no sign of 003. Bond crossed a brook and there on the other bank he found his friend. 003 was not alone.
The British agent was spread-eagled on the ground, squatting next to him cleaning his knife was the other twin. He looked up at Bond but instead of looking shocked, surprised or go for Bond he continued to clean the knife. Bond stood in the brook looking a fraction up at the twin.
“007...your friend put up some last fight.”
“So did your twin,” Bond said crisply.
“Mishka...,” the twin whispered his steely gaze breaking. He lifted the knife in an expert grip the blade angled down. “You killed him.”
“You killed 003,” Bond waved his knife before him. “Come on you little rat.”
With a cry of animal rage Grishka –for obviously this was he- jumped off the bank onto Bond. They went down with a mute splash in the brook. The water was icy cold but neither noticed that as they began to stab at the other. Bond twice felt the pinprick of Grishka’s knife across his arms but it was a grazing scratch.
Bond managed to get his free hand out from under the twin smashing it against Grishka’s face. Grishka fell backwards into the bank. Bond landed on him holding the knife against Grishka’s chin.
Grishka kicked Bond off him then kicked him in the chest. Bond’s knife hand began to weaken. “For Mishka!”
“For 003,” growled Bond throwing the knife as hard as he could. The knife imbedded in Grishka’s neck. No blood came straightaway. Grishka fell backwards then was silent. Bond slowly rose his body soaked and smelling of the brook. He recovered his knife then climbed the brook to 003’s body. He knelt by him. The man had been a war hero before becoming an agent for SIS but...he had met a death in West Germany at the hands of twin men who had been on the payroll of a former British Major.
Bond pulled 003’s body under cover of the nearest tree then got up. He would head to the rendezvous point with the local SIS contact. They would come back for 003’s body, take it home...burial...
James Bond put away his knife then began to walk.
The mists swallowed him as if he had never been.
Home 
Events 
WIN! 
