It was a long, long time undercover to get to this point, thought Bond to himself as he took down the tall brunette clone in his arms and laid her on his bed for the 334th time, but who was counting. Perhaps it had been worth it after all.
All the waiting, all the frustrations, all the malarkey writing things he did not think were funny, for an internet spoof rag that turned his stomach. Still, the situation was no less dangerous than it had been a year ago when he gained entry with a series of stories about sardine sex off the coast of Madagascar.
"Funny crap," said Mark to James, "Looks like you've gotta gig if you want it, I'll pay you.....sometime, now get lost..."
That was the extent of his interaction with the Editor Mark Goldtongue.
"N" the head of British Counter Intertelligence warned Bond he might not come out of this one alive, but that anything he could do to stop the diabolical doings of The Sphinctre would be worth the sacrifice.
"This is the future of the free world at stake here James. Its' them or us, the whole enchilada...the whole nine yards...the bloomin' onion!" yelled N.
"N...have you been been skipping those estrogen treatments again? You're acting rather hormonal today," smirked 007ish.
"This is serious James and I'd appreciate it if you'd keep those inane little smart ass comments of yours to yourself," said N taking out a pill bottle, despite her reprimand, James wagged his finger at her, but said nothing further.
"We have intelligence that The Spinctre online satire magazine is covering for an international spy/hacker ring, the likes the world had never seen. Partners may include members in Russia, North Korea, Iran and Papaua New Guinea."
"Papua New Guinea?" asked Bond quizzically.
"Yes, in fact we think they may have been after a key target in the United States and North Korea may be in cahoots with them," said N.