GOLDJILLY

by Joseph Anderson
jander65@hotmail.com

This is fan fiction and no copyright infringement is intended. I'm not sure who owns James Bond these days but it's not me. Jilly and Langland are mine. This cannot be sold and all notices of copyright must be included if it is copied.

The office was dark as expected. The agent silently dropped into it from the small hole he'd cut in the ceiling. Catlike he began exploring when a spotlighted figure arrested him. It was a man who looked in his early 30s, handsome with long brown hair, seated easily in a leather office chair.

"Langland," James Bond said.

"The one and only," the seated man replied with an easy smile.

"Where is Blowfeld?" 007 said coldly.

"On the garbage dump of incompetence with Dr. No and Auric Goldfinger. I really owe you, Mr. Bond. You've done half my job for me."

"So you lead SPECTRE now?" Bond asked.

Langland smiled. "There is no SPECTRE. Only me."

Bond's Walther PPK was instantly in his hand, firing at the seated figure. There was no effect.

"Mr. Bond, this is a holographic image. I am thousands of miles away. I plan to have dinner with your Miss Moneypenny, as a matter of fact. Perhaps I'll poison her to teach you a lesson. However, there is a someone who would like to meet you in person." The man disappeared.

James Bond felt a tap on his shoulder and saw his gun somehow taken from his hand. He turned to see a slightly built beautiful young blonde woman, taking the clip from his weapon. She handed it back to him with a smile, her brown eyes wide.

"Jilly," James Bond said, as he replaced his pistol in its shoulder holster. "Running your master Langland's errands like a good little bitch?"

Jilly laughed. "You know nothing, 007. Langland and I have lived a life you cannot imagine, so don't think you can turn me against him. I've heard good things about you, Bond. That you fight as well as my mother, even. That means nothing to you but it is a great compliment."

The tall dark man smiled now at the smaller figure. "It is a great compliment. The Sword of Ares is legendary..." He paused as the gleaming little Beretta was suddenly in his face. The brown irises now had white all around them.

"What do you know about my mother?"

James Bond said easily, "Not very much. Callisto was your main influence. Do you hear voices telling you to kill like she did? She'd be in a straightjacket these days--but Ancient Greece was another matter, I suppose."

"She was driven to that, Bond," Jilly said through gritted teeth. The corner of her mouth twitched.

"Yes, well, every maniac could say that, Jilly. I would thi..." Bond grunted and fell as the expensive Italian shoe planted itself in his stomach. He pivoted, trying to catch her head with a kick but she was well out of range.

She was putting her gun in her waistband as she said to him lightly, "You only know so much, apparently, 007. Somehow you learned about my mother and Callisto, yet you think you can fight ME. They couldn't. I'm giving you a warning neither of them would've given you. Stay out of my and Langland's way." Jilly was suddenly gone, seeming to almost dematerialize.

James Bond painfully stood up, holding his stomach. "You're too soft, Jilly," he said to himself.

The End