Recovery

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to MGM Productions.

Agent James Bond 007 stared at the target straight in front of him and did his best to ignore his trembling hand. It had been six months since his superior's death and Colonel Mallory had taken over as his superior. The events still shook him up and every time he closed his eyes, he could still see the former M's face as her body gave up, breathing her last breath. Even though he had done everything he could, including taking her to the most remote place in Scotland he could think of; his own family home no less. It hadn't been enough; Raoul Silva had still managed to track them down. With a massive chip on his shoulder, he had been like a dog with a bone and, eventually, he had won, M had died in his arms. He closed his eyes and thought about all the people he had ever loved and respected; M, Vesper, Camille, all taken away from him, well, never again! He would never allow himself to get caught in the situation EVER again. Slowly, he pulled the trigger, BANG! He was miles out from his target. In a fit of anger and despair he threw the gun to the floor.

'Pick it up 007.' Said a voice suddenly, Bond looked up to see Colonel Mallory looking down at him; his eyes were fixed and quietly determined. 'Pick the gun up 007.' He repeated. Without quite knowing why, Bond slowly reached for the weapon, Mallory suddenly appeared beside him, 'Relax and fire.'

Bond stared at the target in front and, once again it seemed clearer, knowing that M was next to him seemed to make him feel more confident, slowly, he found his territory, familiar ground and fired. He hit a bull's eye.

'Perfect.' Mallory replied calmly and, although bone couldn't see him, he felt sure that he was smiling slightly suddenly, he felt a huge weight being lifted from his shoulders. 'Again.' He suddenly heard M say. Slowly, Bond stared directly at the target ahead of him and stared at his hand; it was as solid as a rock. He fired. Another bull's eye. Relief as well as confidence began to flood his body and he felt the familiar rush of adrenaline as if his body was warmly welcoming these feelings.

M squeezed his shoulder, 'Carry on.' He walked away as Bond turned his attention to the next target, the feeling of confidence from his superior still lingering.