Chapter 11 – Vengeance

Mint finally reported back to me several days after Quentin's rescue. I'd tasked him early on to look after Quentin. He'd done a good job of it. He'd managed to observe most of the activities in Dominic Greene's lair and then infiltrated MI6 medical. What he related made me livid. Quentin had not only been badly mistreated but he'd almost died at least twice after his rescue. Mint's description of the detox process was horrific. Thank heavens for Dr. Watson. That man was an absolute marvel.

When he finished reporting Mint disappeared in a puff of agitated pixie dust. He'd never seen me this mad before so I didn't blame him. Sapphire, who had been around longer, just looked at me sadly shaking her head. She knew that when I was this upset I had a tendency to take drastic action and drastic action was just what I was contemplating. To hell with the statute of secrecy, a message had to be sent. No one, and I meant absolutely no one, had the right to mess with one of mine that way. There was no way I was going to let that bloody wanker Greene and his sidekick Rheese Fredricks get away with what they had done. Even if I had to burn an identity to do so, so be it, vengeance would be meted out.

Half an hour of pacing later I had a plan. Art, my punk persona, was already on the MI5 payroll as an informant. I rummaged around in my box for a specific phone and popped in the battery. With Sapphire's help in mudding the signal location I sent a message to my handler requesting a face-to-face. The wording was such that I knew it would end up on Mycroft Holmes' desk especially since I had specified I would only meet with the blond who carried the Ghost from the basement.

I didn't expect an immediate response so in the interim I went about preparing. I first put in all my piercings then pulled on my skin tight jeans and shrugged into my ratty union jack t-shirt. I dug the Doc Martins out of the back of the wardrobe and then attacked my hair. A bit of product and I was ready to apply the bright green streaks I habitually wore with this get up. An hour or so of walking around the seedier side of London would let the tats rise up to full visibility on my skin.

By the time I was dressed Mint was back. I asked him to go round up a bunch of his kin folk and fog the CCTV cameras all over London. The fey, when properly motivated, could generate an electromagnetic like field that played royal havoc with electronics. If they got really pissed they could seriously fry even ECM hardened equipment. It took a lot of energy so I'd also equipped a number of them with aluminum multi tools. Cutting wires was often easier and something they found fun. In a half an hour or so the poor CCTV camera repair crews would be up to their ears in malfunction tickets. Hopefully it would also confuse the good spooks at MI5 and 6 to the point that they wouldn't spot me.

Dressed, coiffed with plans in place, Sapphire and I set out. About an hour into our ramble I was surprised by the phone. A few back and forth texts and a meet was set up in an alley I'd used for face-to-face contact before. I wouldn't have been able to do it safely without Sapphire's help in rerouting the phone signals. Once the protocols were in place I popped the battery out of the phone and sent her off to suss out with whatever the nice folks at Q branch had put in the alley and its environs.

I made it to the general vicinity about thirty minutes early. Sapphire had returned with a good idea of all the cameras in the alley and surrounding streets. It was nice that none happened to be ECM hardened. I was also surprised that I hadn't spotted any human assets watching. They were relying solely on Bond and the electronics then. Interesting. I spotted Bond in a bake shop with a good view of the alley. That would work nicely. I gave Sapphire the nod to start fudging the cameras and meandered over.

I ordered Earl Grey in a take away cup then passed directly behind where Bond was sitting. "Come along china." I pitched my voice low enough so that only Bond would hear me. That, the accent and the scent of the tea should get his attention. It did. I sauntered out the door and sure enough I had a certain 00 agent on my tail.

I lead him around a bit then down into the tube. From there it was a simple matter to slip into the access tunnels where I let him catch up to me. He started to speak but before he could I held my finger to my lips in the time honored gesture for silence. He complied and followed me deeper into the tunnels. It was only a five minute walk to a portion of an abandoned tube tunnel that the fey had warded against all electronic eves dropping. It had advantages that it was lit and we could see each other. It was there I stopped and looked at him.

"What do you have?" he asked without preamble.

"Word is the big manhole cover wan' the green Ethan." Oh boy. I needed to calm down. My Art persona spoke with a broad cockney accent and tended to be well-nigh incomprehensible at times especially when I was excited or upset. I shouldn't have worried. 007 seemed to follow the slang just fine.

"You know where he is?"

"What'cha gonna do to 'im?" I asked rather than replying directly. I was careful to let my body language indicate that I was mad at Mr. Greene.

"Why do you want to know?"

What to say to make sure that Bond would utilize his license to kill? Not that he'd tell me directly but I wanted to make sure that Mr. Greene would not survive to be placed in custody. I stated. "I saw the Ghost when you carried 'im out. Greene's a bit of a Fester and his light-o-luv is big with the Vera Lynn. For what they done they don' deserve the ginger."

"Why do you care?"

"I owe the Ghost and I owe them that's been 'armed." I wasn't lying. Quentin had provided me, through intermediaries, with quite a few of my electronic covers over the years. In addition there was enough that Greene had done against me and mine both directly and indirectly to earn him a death sentence three times over.

The look on Bond's face was assessing. Finally he said, "Give me the address. They won't bother anyone again, I guarantee it."

Well that was as good as I was going to get and I told him the address of Mr. Greene's latest hidey hole. Bond paused a moment then asked, "How recent is this?"

"Yesterday I saw 'is at the near and followed him round to 'is cat." I lied, though the address I had courtesy of Mint's friends was good as of at least an hour ago.

Bond looked like he was going to slip me some bills in the time honored payoff of an informant. Now that wouldn't do at all. He could use it to plant a tracker on me. I waved him off. "Don' need the bread," I told him. "Tell 'im this one's on me." Then just because I couldn't resist a dramatic gesture I drew myself up to attention and saluted Bond with all military propriety. That was Sapphire's cue to blank out all the lights with her magic. I took off but I paused just as I was up at the top of an emergency ladder and spoke again "Good luck Commander Bond" I said in my normal voice without any accent as I exited.

Late that evening Sapphire reported back. She had followed Bond and watched to the bloody bleeding end, literally. Mr. Fredericks had decided to fight with the obvious results when facing James Bond. Mr. Greene had tried to surrender. He had been informed in no uncertain terms just before his demise exactly why his surrender was not acceptable. Bond had also recovered a treasure trove of intelligence on the Verdigris cartel that would most likely keep him from any serious repercussions about going off mission. That was good. I wouldn't have to intervene on his account then.

In the meantime Mint had checked in on Quentin who was chafing at his enforced stay in MI6 medical and wanting to get back into Q branch. I wondered idly how long they would be able to keep him there. Mint had also looked in on Sherlock and Mycroft. They were studiously not chasing my Art persona. I knew however that one or the other of them would get curious enough to do so eventually but I'd cross that bridge when I got to it. Once again my three geniuses were safe even if one was a little worse for wear. I could live with that.

Author's Note: Mr. Kirkland ended up tying up most all the loose ends nicely for me. Just for clarity the cockney rhyming slang used by Art (once again thank heavens for the internet) is as follows:

Cat = cat & mouse = house
China = china plate = mate
Ethan = Ethan Hunt = C**t
Fester = uncle fester = child molester
Ginger = ginger ale = jail
Manhole = manhole cover = brother
Near = near & far = bar/pub
Vera Lynn = heroin

So now gentle readers we are again at the end of another fan fiction. I hope you enjoyed it. I must thank my alpha reader Guy who not only read it in hard copy but asked cogent questions and provided much needed encouragement. I also should thank Kenoria for introducing me to Hetalia and listening to my plot ramblings more than anyone should reasonably be expected to do so.

As has become my tradition (with apologies to The Bard):

If this writer has offended,
Think but this and all is mended.
That you have but tarried here,
While each chapter did appear,
And these words upon this theme,
Are of no import, only my dream.

It has been an honor to share my dream with you.

K2N2