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Title: Sub-Rosa (1/2)
Characters and Pairing: Bond/Villiers, M, OMC
Fandom: Casino Royale
Length: 5,314
Rating: NC-17
Rating for language and explicit sex.
Disclaimer: Don't own there characters. Never have, never will. I just enjoy borrowing them.
Summary: Villiers gets in over his head.
Notes: Thanks to[info]androidtomato for her advice and awesome beta skills.

And for your listening pleasure:  Bond on Bond (James Bond Theme) - Bond 

Villiers tried to concentrate on the memo he was typing up. He tried to stay focused, but every time the man sitting across from him sighed --hell, every time the man moved, Villiers found his concentration slipping. He didn't like the way Bond distracted him, even if it was a little bit. It made him feel like an adolescent school boy who'd just seen his best friend's sister naked.

"How much longer will she be?" came Bond's silky voice.

Villiers fingers stopped moving over the keyboard for a split second, then resumed their frantic pace. He kept his eyes on the screen in front of him. "She'll take as long as she needs to," he replied, trying to keep that shaky nervous feeling out of his voice.

Bond eyed the man in front of him carefully and smiled.

"Well, why don't you pick up the phone and tell her that I'm still sitting here and that I am not planning on waiting here all fucking day."

Villiers stopped typing and looked right at Bond, whose smile quickly faded. He narrowed his eyes and met Bond's cold stare.

"Why don't you tell her yourself?" he replied.

They stared at each other for a heartbeat then both stood and reached for the phone. Villiers was fast, Bond was faster. His hand grasped Bond's just as he picked up the receiver. Their eyes locked. Bond tried to shake Villiers hand off his, but he held tight. He was surprised that this tall, skinny, unassuming assistant had so much strength. Even more so, the heat and the anger rising off of Villiers was exciting to Bond. He'd always had a soft spot for Villiers, which was why he had always gotten a kick out of tormenting him. Although he would never admit it, he wanted Villiers to be more than just an acquaintance. Bond could just imagine running his tongue along the man's jaw line.

Villiers wanted to move his hand but he didn't want to give Bond the satisfaction of winning. He already felt like an idiot for thinking that Bond would turn down that blatant challenge. He and Bond had never had this much interaction. Most of the time Villiers would stay safely hidden behind his desk whenever Bond came into the office. They rarely spoke, he would nod his head in silent acknowledgement that it was safe for Bond to enter M's office, most the time without even looking up from his work. He had never taken notice how pale Bond's blue eyes were or how attractive he looked with a few days stubble. Villiers wondered what it would feel like to have the rough of Bond's cheek against his.

"What did I miss?" M said with an amused smile. She stood in the the doorway to her office, arms crossed.

Villiers quickly removed his hand from Bond's and rubbed it against his thigh. "Nothing," He sat back down in his chair and tried to ignore the fact that he was blushing.

Bond sat the receiver back in place and shrugged. "Just getting to know your lovely assistant," he smiled. "He's doing a wonderful job. I think he deserves a raise."

M rolled her eyes. "Everyone who has to put up with you deserves a raise, Bond,"  She glanced at Villiers, who was avoiding her gaze by pretending to be interested in some files lying on his desk. She sighed, "In my office."

Bond followed M into her office and when he turned to shut the door he caught Villiers looking at him. He smiled and winked, then shut the door. Villiers let out a sigh of relief that Bond was now safely behind a locked door. His eyes went back to the screen and his fingers began typing again. Even though he was relived that Bond was gone, his mind kept remembering how sexy Bond had looked when he smiled at him.


Three days later, Villiers sat in the MI-6 cafeteria, trying to enjoy his sandwich and trying not to think about how good Bond's ass looked in those tight jeans as he had stormed out of M's office. In fact he'd spent these last three days trying to get all thoughts of Bond out of his head. He'd almost succeeded when a folded piece of paper appeared in front of him. He frowned at it then looked around the cafeteria. Everyone in his vicinity was engaged in conversation or pretending to enjoy their food. He looked at the paper as if it might come to life and bite him. Carefully, he picked it up and unfolded it. Written neatly inside was "Trafalgar Square. 7 pm. Don't be late."

Bond. Warmth crept up Villiers neck. It had to be Bond. Who else would it be? Villiers pushed the note aside and sat staring at his half eaten sandwich. His appetite had suddenly vanished. The nerve of that man, he thought, how dare he think I'm just going to drop my plans and meet him. He picked up the note again and looked at the neat handwriting. Bastard. He crumpled up the note and smashed it into his sandwich. So Bond wanted to play games did he? Well, Villiers didn't like games and he wasn't going to be Bond's little pet. He knew what happened to them. He'd go, but only to tell Bond what a gigantic arse he was and that he could fuck off, right back to whatever hole he had crawled out of.


Villiers stood at the base of Nelson's Column, waiting. He looked at his watch. 7:20. He was beginning to think that Bond wouldn't show, that Bond was just trying to fuck with his head. Villiers pulled his jacket tighter around his thin body. It was getting colder and he was getting angrier. He'd give Bond five more minutes then he was going home to bang his head against the wall for being a total bloody idiot. He scanned the crowds of people around him. The smiles and the laughter were starting to annoy him. Fuck this. He started down the steps and began making his way toward home. He was cold, tired, and hungry. Villiers was too busy thinking about what he wanted for dinner to notice the man walking toward him. Too busy thinking about ways to make Bond suffer when he slammed into the man's shoulder.

"I'm so sorry. I wasn't paying atten......." Villiers stammered as he looked up at the man. But it wasn't just any man. It was 009.

"It's no problem John. I didn't really think you'd show anyway."


A few minutes later, Villiers found himself in a small cafe sitting across from 009. He was still in shock that 009 even knew his name. He rarely had any interaction with the 00's, save for that awkward day with Bond. Most of the time they breezed into M's office then breezed out, never a smile or a nod hello.

What the 00's didn't realize was that Villiers was privy to every detail of their lives. He knew 009's first name was Paul, that he was thrice divorced and shared custody of his son with his second ex-wife. He knew intimate details about the man's personal life and about every mission he had ever been on.

"Do you want something?" 009 asked as he browsed the menu.

Villiers snapped back to reality, "Huh?"

"Do you want something to eat or drink?" 009 asked again, this time slower.

"No," Villiers replied, his stomach growling in protest. "Why did you want to meet me?"

009 laid the menu down on the table and leaned forward. "I want to make you an offer."

Villiers raised an eyebrow. "What kind of offer?" he replied carefully.

"How much do you enjoy your job?"

He frowned. "What?"

"Your job. Do you enjoy working for such an ungracious woman?"

Villiers couldn't believe what he was hearing. Ungracious? M had never had anything but the utmost respect for him. She'd once told him that she thought of him as a son. Sure she could be gruff sometimes, but she was the head of MI6, she had to be that way.

"I don't know what you mean," he answered.

"Oh come on. I've seen the way she treats you. She works you like a dog, constantly. I've never seen you get a day off. And don't think I've forgotten last week. Remember, when she yelled at you. We all saw her. They probably heard her on the upper floors. And for what? Misplacing a file? I don't know how you put up with it."

Villiers recalled the incident. He had misplaced a file on one of Britain's most wanted terrorists. M had just come from a meeting where she had gotten reamed for letting the man slip surveillance and she had been in a mood. He had found the folder a few minutes later and she'd apologised, but he had never taken anything she said in anger personally. It was the only way he could do his job. He never took any days off because, really, he had no life outside of work. He lived for his job and he knew, eventually, it would burn him out, but he didn't care. He loved it.

009 studied him carefully before continuing. "I respect what you do. It can't be easy. You're a brilliant man and you deserve better."

"And you can offer me something better?" he asked. He couldn't believe he was even asking. He knew he should get up and walk out, but a little voice in his head was telling him to stay. To find out exactly what 009 was offering.

"I can," 009 looked around the cafe then continued, keeping his voice low. "I know people. People that would love to see MI6 come under new management. People that would pay dearly for information that only you can access. I need your help John."

Villiers hesitated for a moment before replying. "You want me to spy for you?"

009 smiled. "See. I told you. Brilliant. I want you to have the respect you deserve."

Villiers frowned. His head was starting to hurt. Why him? Why had 009 chosen him? Did he really seem that miserable? He opened his mouth to tell 009 that he had come to the wrong person, but 009 spoke first.

"Don't answer. Just think about it very carefully. If, in two days, you decide that you want to do more with your life then be a slave to M, then call this number," 009 passed him a blank business card. Villiers turned it over and saw the phone number written on the back in the same neat handwriting that was on the note that had started all this.

"But...." Villiers shook his head and looked up only to find 009 gone. Shit. He looked down at the card again, then slipped it into his jacket pocket and calmly walked out of the cafe toward home.


It was a working lunch today for Villiers. He'd been so distracted all day that he'd let his work pile up. He couldn't get that conversation with 009 out of his head. M had left for a meeting and wouldn't be back for a few hours. Villiers was supposed to go with her, but she'd seen that he wasn't himself, so she told him to stay and catch up on his work. He typed in between bites of his sandwich, praying that he'd get done as quickly as possible. He didn't want to be here any longer than he had to.

"Always the hard worker," Bond said making his voice as sweet as possible.

Villiers looked up, startled. He hadn't heard Bond open the door, but there he was leaning casually against the door frame, propping it open with his foot.

Villiers frowned. "What are you doing here?"

"Can't a guy just stop by to say hi to a colleague?"

Villiers didn't blink. "No. What do you want?"

Bond sighed and walked toward him. Villiers stiffened.

"I'm sorry for being an ass the other day."

Villiers was stunned. Bond was actually apologising. "Um...it's fine," he stammered, cursing himself for not being able to stop the blush creeping up his neck. He looked back at the computer screen and suddenly felt terribly uncomfortable. When he looked back at Bond, the man was smiling. He'd seen that smile before. Bond was enjoying this far too much. Surprised at how angry this revelation made him, he stood and glared at Bond.

"You really are an asshole aren't you?" Villiers said, making sure Bond could hear the anger in his voice.

Bond laughed. "I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself. I enjoy seeing you blush."

"Well, now that you've had your fun, could you please leave? I'm really very busy and I don't have time to fuck about." He picked up several folders from his desk, hoping they would help illustrate his point.

The smile never disappeared from Bond's face as he put his hands on the desk and leaned towards Villiers.

"If I really wanted to fuck about with you John, you'd be lying across this desk with my tongue in your mouth."

Villiers felt himself go hot and cold at the same time. He couldn't breathe and all he wanted to do was to get as far away from Bond as he could. It meant walking past Bond and he wasn't sure if could make it. But he was damn sure going to try.

"If..." he cleared his throat, "If you'll excuse me, I've got work to finish."

He tore his gaze from Bond and started toward the door. He'd almost made it when he felt Bond's hand snake into the crook of his right arm. Bond turned him and slammed him against the wall, the file folders falling to the floor, forgotten. It knocked the wind out of him and when Bond pushed himself into the front of Villiers body, he could feel the hard line of Bond's cock pressing into his. Villiers closed his eyes, cursing his body for responding to this. He opened his mouth to speak, but Bond silenced him with a deep kiss. Villiers wanted to pull away, but the way Bond's tongue slid against his, the way he was rocking against him, was making it hard for him to form words like stop or no. Bond's hands moved to Villiers waist and dug his fingers into his hips, pulling him closer. Villiers moaned into Bond's mouth.

When the finally separated, they were both breathing heavily. Bond stared into Villiers eyes and moved his hands to the man's neck. He kissed the corner of Villiers mouth, then his cheek. Then he did what he'd been wanting to do for the past five days. Bond ran his tongue along Villiers jawline. He heard Villiers breath catch and he smiled. "James," Villiers whispered. Bond pulled Villiers mouth back to his and kissed him hungrily.

Bond wanted to push Villiers onto his desk and fuck his brains out as he screamed Bond's name. Bond pushed his tongue into Villiers mouth as his fingers became tangled in Villiers hair. Villiers felt one of Bond's hands trace it's way down his chest through his shirt, stopping just above his belt. Bond's hand hovered there for a second then undid Villiers belt and slid down into his boxers. He felt Bond's hand wrap around his cock. He flung his head back and moaned, a little louder than he'd intended and he wondered if anyone heard him

That was the last thought he had before Bond began to stroke him. Gently at first then a little rougher. Villiers bit his lip and whimpered. Oh dear god, he couldn't believe this was actually happening. Here he was, in his office, getting a hand job from someone he wasn't even sure he liked. What the bloody hell am I doing?, he thought. Then he heard the ringing. He turned his head toward the loud noise. It was the phone. Someone was calling, but not just anyone. It was his private line and M was the only one who had that number.

Villiers didn't trust his voice but he spoke anyway. "Stop," he grabbed Bond's arm. "Stop. I can't...I have to answer that."

"No. You don't," Bond whispered into Villiers neck.

"Yes I do. Please stop. Let go of me," Villiers yanked Bond's hand out his pants, causing him to shudder. He pushed Bond away and walked to the phone.

"Villiers," he answered, cursing himself for the breathy way his voice came out.
"It's M. Are you alright? You're breathing heavily."

"I'm fine," Villiers breathed deeply and steadied himself against the desk. He heard the door behind him open and when he looked back, Bond was gone.

"Villiers? Are you still there?" M said sternly.

He sighed, "Yes, I'm still here."


Villiers was pacing back and forth in his flat, thinking. Thinking about his encounter with Bond. Wondering how far it would've gone if the phone hadn't rang. Thinking about 009's offer. He was still shocked that the man wanted him to betray his country. Villiers could not deny that he was tempted. He wanted to be more than M's assistant. He wanted respect and these people could give it to him. People who wouldn't look down on him or take him for granted.

He stopped and looked down at the coffee table, at the card sitting innocently on top. He picked it up and turned it over in his hands. He stared at the phone number written neatly on the back. He closed his eyes and sighed. When he opened them a few seconds later, he reached for his mobile and dialed. The person on the other end answered quickly.

He paused, then said, "It's Villiers."


It had been two days since Villiers had accepted 009's offer and he hadn't heard anything from the man since. Right now though, he couldn't give a shit. He'd had a particularly bad day at work and just wanted to get home and go to bed. He stopped in front of the door to his flat and had the key in the lock before he heard the faint sound of music coming from inside.

"What the hell?" He frowned and threw open the door, only to find Bond rummaging through his CD collection.

Bond looked at him and smiled. "It's about bloody time. Do you know how long I've been waiting here?"

"How the hell did you get in here?" Villiers said indignantly, as he threw his briefcase to the floor.

"I picked the lock. Why? What did you think I did? Break the window?" Bond looking somewhat insulted.

"You picked the lock?!" Villiers mouth was gaping open at the idea of this intrusion.

Bond shrugged, "Yeah. Less noisy."

Villiers was appalled. He shook his head. "Why would you break in here to begin with?" His voice was getting a higher pitch to it.

"Well, I waited outside for a bit, but that got boring. Shouldn't you have been home an hour ago?"

"I was in a meeting that ran...wait...why am I explaining myself to you?" He put a hand to his forehead. "Why are you here? I thought you were in Barcelona?"

"I got back early and thought that we could go down to the pub and have a pint," Bond began walking toward him, slowly.

Villiers shook his head in disbelief. "What?"

"You know....a drink....," Bond inched his way toward the angry man.

"What?" Villiers said again, his head beginning to hurt. "You want me to have a drink with you? Are you mad?"

Bond shrugged. "I thought..."

"You thought what?" Villiers realized that he was shouting, so he lowered his voice enough so the neighbors wouldn't hear. "That you could break into my flat, take me for a drink and I'd just fall into your arms?"

Bond stopped a couple of feet from Villiers and smiled. "Well no, I thought we'd have more than one drink."

Villiers laughed, but not a happy laugh. "I don't believe you. You treat me like I'm your personal secretary, when you do bother to acknowledge me at all. You break into my home, you molest me in my office and now you think I'll just forget all of that once you flash me that irritatingly smug smile."

"Wait. Molested you?" Bond said.

"Yes. Molested me," Villiers spoke those words slowly.

"You mean you didn't like it?" Bond said hesitantly.

"No," He shouted at him. "I didn't like it," He was lying of course, but Bond didn't need to know that.

Bond's shoulders sagged. "Well, if that's how you feel, then I should go."

"Yes," Villiers walked to the door and opened it. "Leave."

Bond started walking, but instead of leaving, he grabbed the door and slammed it shut.

"What?!" came Villiers startled response.

With a quick motion, Bond grabbed Villiers tie and pulled him into a hard kiss. Villiers made a noise that sounded a bit like surprise and, if Bond didn't know any better, a bit like pleasure. His arms came up but instead of wrapping them around Bond's neck, Villiers put his hands on Bond's shoulders and pushed. They broke apart, panting.

Villiers voice was little more than a whisper. "What are you doing?"

"I'm kissing you," he said, getting noticeably angry. He pulled Villiers into another kiss as he walked him back against the wall, shoving his erection into Villiers groin. Villiers grunted as his back made contact with the wall. Bond moved his tongue into Villiers mouth and ran it lightly along his bottom lip. His hand moved down between Villiers legs. Villiers made another small noise then pushed at Bond's shoulders again.

"Told you I don't like that."

"You're lying," Bond said firmly. He was getting angrier.

"How would you know?"

"I can always spot a liar. It's my job," Bond replied before putting his hands firmly on Villiers neck, kissing him again.

Villiers raised his hands to push Bond away again, but Bond was faster, grabbing his wrists and pinning them to the wall.

"Don't fight me. I know you want this," Bond whispered against Villiers lips.

Villiers looked into Bond's blue eyes, noticing how alive they suddenly looked, and shook his head. He wouldn't fight. They kissed again, this time it was achingly long and deep. Villiers thought his legs were going to give way. Bond's arm snaked around his waist as his mouth went to Villiers jawline, then neck, finally resting his lips at Villiers pulse point. That's going to be hard to explain, he thought as Bond sucked, long and hard, on his neck. Bond make quick work of his own shirt then moved to Villiers tie and shirt, ripping it in the process.

"You're going to buy me a new shirt," Villiers whispered as Bond's mouth latched onto his.

"I'll buy you a hundred new shirts," Bond replied.

They kissed greedily before Bond took hold of his hand and said, "Bed." Villiers followed, staring at Bond's ass as he followed him down the hall. Bond pulled him in for another hard kiss as they fell to the bed. Villiers pushed his hands into Bond's hair, tangling his fingers, as Bond's hands moved roughly down his naked chest, finally resting on his hips. They didn't move any lower. Villiers pulled his lips from Bond's.

"Don't tease me James," Villiers said in between shaky breaths.

Bond grinned at the use of his first name. Villiers watched as Bond undid the button and pulled the zipper down slowly. The sound of it sending chills up his spine. Villiers swallowed hard and laid his head back against one of the pillows. He felt Bond slowly removing his pants then his boxers, fingers moving lightly against his skin. God he wanted Bond so bad right now. Villiers raised his head and looked at Bond, who was admired his body before settling his eyes on Villiers hard cock. Bond licked his lips then stripped off his own pants, grabbing a condom from his back pocket, before throwing the pants across the room.

"I should've known," Villiers said, narrowing his eyes and staring at the condom in Bond's hand. Any other time he'd have been pissed at Bond's nerve, but now he just wanted Bond to fuck him into the mattress.

Bond smiled. "Always be prepared."

He crawled on top of Villiers and planted another deep kiss on his lips. Bond kissed his way down Villiers body, enjoying the way Villiers breath sped up as he moved lower, the way he arched into Bond's touch. Bond could feel himself growing harder, if that was possible. Bond stopped at the trembling man's waist then moved back up. Bond lowered his mouth to Villiers' and traced the outline of his lips with his tongue.

"I won't hurt you," Bond whispered against Villiers mouth.

Villiers nodded silently. Bond opened the condom and slipped it onto his throbbing cock. Villiers inhaled sharply as Bond pushed his legs up. Villiers wiggled a bit, mostly out of nervousness. He heard Bond groan as he pushed himself deep inside. Villiers winced at the intrusion then drew in a deep breath as his back arched, a small whimper escaping his lips. Oh God that feels good, he thought.

Bond began rocking his hips, moving in and out slowly, gently. Villiers was getting into the rhythm when he felt one of Bond's rough hands wrap around the base of his cock. His breath hitched and his fingers became tangled in the sheets beneath him as the hand moved slowly upwards, then down again. "Oh God James" slipped from Villiers mouth.

"Say my name again," Bond whispered.

Villiers thrust his hips upward, "James"

Bond jerked his fist up and down Villiers cock roughly, in rhythm with his hips. Noises began spilling from Villiers mouth, words strung together in breathless urgency. Bond heard his name again mixed in with the nonsense. He leaned down and kissed Villiers hard on the lips, teeth nipping at his bottom lip.

Bond began moving faster, thrusting harder and deeper into the man pinned beneath him. Bond could feel his orgasm building. He began pumping his fist around Villiers cock harder, making him moan loudly. Villiers wrapped his legs tightly around Bond's waist and said "James" in a choked cry. He arched himself into Bond's hard, muscular body and came over Bond's fist and his chest. Bond leaned forward, grabbing the shivering man by the back of the head, and shoving his tongue into Villiers mouth as he came inside him, groaning with pleasure.

Bond collapsed on top of Villiers. Both of them panting and exhausted. Villiers felt a little uncomfortable, and sticky, pinned underneath Bond, but he didn't dare push him off. Instead he closed his eyes and listened as Bond's breathing began to slow down.

"I told you I wouldn't hurt you," Bond whispered in Villiers ear.


Villiers sat at his desk the next day, wincing every time he shifted in his chair. If he had known he would be this sore, he would of fought Bond off a little harder. Then again, maybe not, seeing as how he had actually enjoyed himself. He had never realized that being with Bond would be so agreeable. The sex had been great, the best he'd ever had. He had figured Bond for the 'fuck'em and leave'em' kind of guy, so imagine his surprise when Bond had not left immediately afterwards, but had wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him close. Villiers never thought he'd feel that comfortable or that at ease lying curled up against such a cold hearted killing machine.

When he woke up he found that Bond had left, leaving no trace that he had ever been there. Villiers was loathe to admit that he'd been irked that Bond didn't even say good-bye. He should know better than to think that last night was nothing more than a fling to Bond, just another notch on his belt. Villiers was sure that he saw something in Bond's eyes last night, something more than carnal lust.

The startling ring that came from his mobile brought him back into reality. He flipped it open and saw that it was a text message, from 009, who was requesting his company for lunch at the cafe in Trafalgar Square, 12 o'clock sharp. Villiers bit his lip as he looked at his watch. That was only 30 minutes away. He looked up at M's office. She had been in a mood when she'd come in to work, mumbling a good morning to him then slamming the door. Throughout the morning he'd heard her shouting at people over the phone, pretty sure he had heard Bond's name at one point.

He hesitated for a moment then stood and walked to the door. He knocked, softly, listening for a response.

"What?!" M shouted.

He opened the door slowly and found her pacing back and forth, the phone pressed to one ear. She saw him peeking around the door and motioned for him to enter. She stared at him, waiting for him to speak. He opened his mouth then shut it when she raised her hand.

"No. I'm tired of having this discussion. I've told you that it's my problem not yours," She listened for a minute to the person on the other end as she walked to her desk. "And I WILL handle it," She slammed the phone down and eased into her cushy chair, shutting her eyes, fingers rubbing at her temples. She sat there for a few seconds.

"Yes," she said, opening her eyes to look at him. He didn't bother to ask if she was okay. The last time he did it had only resulted in being yelled at.

"I was wondering if it would be alright if I took an hour today for lunch. I've got a few errands to run that can't wait until I get off work."

She studied him for a moment before answering. "Fine. So long as your back by 1. I have a meeting with the Prime Minister and I'll need you to go with me."

He nodded. "Yes mum," He turned and headed for the door when she spoke.

"John," Her voice was soft.

He stiffened. She'd never used his first name before. He turned, "Yes mum."

"Is everything alright?" she said, concern showing in her face. "Is there something you want to talk about?"

He cleared his throat. "No. Everything is fine. Really," he smiled, just for effect.

She opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off when the phone rang. She picked it up then placed a hand over the receiver.

"Make sure that you're back in time. I don't want to be late."

He nodded then started out the door as she began arguing into the phone again. He shut it and leaned against it, letting out a big sigh. That was close.

Ten minutes later he was on his way to Trafalgar Square, trying not to speed. He wondered what 009 wanted. Whatever it was, it wouldn't be good. He arrived at the cafe with 5 minutes to spare and found 009 sipping a cup of tea. 009 grinned at Villiers as he sat down.

"Good afternoon," He looked at his watch. "I wasn't sure if you were going to make it. Do you want some tea? Lunch, perhaps?"

Villiers shook his head. "No. Why did you ask me here?"

"To the point. I like that," 009 leaned forward. "I'm meeting with my contact tomorrow. My contact's employers don't believe that I have access to...certain information and they want to meet you."

"Meet me? Why?" Villiers knew this wasn't going to be good.

"To see you, talk to you. Honestly, I think these people just want to make sure that I'm not completely full of shit. In fact, I've already gotten your ticket. We leave in the morning."

Villiers was dumbstruck. "I can't just drop everything and leave. I have things I need to do. I..."

009's face became serious. "Look John, you don't want to mess with these people. If you don't show up they'll take offense, they've killed people for a lot less."

Villiers swallowed hard. He had gotten himself into this and there was no turning back. If he didn't go, they'd kill him and if he did go, they'd kill him. Neither option was agreeable. He cleared his throat before he spoke, "Fine. I'll see what I can do."

009 smiled. "Brilliant," He dug in his coat pocket as he stood and handed Villiers the ticket, "Plane leaves at 9 am. Don't be late."

Villiers nodded and watched him leave. He was so screwed.

To Be Continued.............


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