Deepika Padukone and the Earthquake man

[hotaks]

It was only 10.30am and M was already having a lousy day. Bad enough to make him show someone else what a really lousy day was like.

‘Miss Moneypound!’ he barked into his intercom. ‘Where is Agent W7? She should have been in here an hour ago!’

‘Yes, I’m sorry sir,’ came his secretary’s voice, crisp with buttoned-down tension. ‘She was notified, but no one seems to know quite where she is just now.’

‘What about Q? He should have been in here with those schematics.’

‘I know, but I’m afraid... Oh, wait. Here they are now.’

‘Finally! Send them...’ M scowled as the padded leather door of his plush office was hurled open without giving him a chance to finish. ‘Never mind,’ he grumbled, ‘I’ll tell them myself.’

With brooding ill will he glowered at the two people who came tumbling hurriedly into his presence. The man was a tall, bespectacled figure in a white lab coat, his tangled greying hair even more unkempt than usual, his ill-fitting garments more clumsily put on. Buttons had been pushed into the wrong holes and M suspected his shoes were on the wrong feet.

‘Terribly sorry I’m late, sir,’ he apologized breathlessly. ‘I was showing W7 the new high velocity spring-loaded torpedo launchers and we lost all track of time!’

The woman at his side had come in looking as rushed as he, but as always somehow she was able to restore her shoulder-length dark hair to immaculate glossy perfection with a single languid shake of her head. She was flawlessly turned out in a sober charcoal business suit which couldn’t hide the supple swell of firm, shapely breasts and the curve of a perfect peach-shaped ass. The skirt ended just below the knee to display shapely stocking-clad calves. As always, the corner of her thin sexy lips was curled up in a half smile, and her dark, lively eyes sparkled with that infuriating little touch of mockery.

‘It was very impressive,’ she said solemnly. ‘Q’s high velocity spring-loaded torpedo launcher is the biggest I’ve ever seen. You really should try it yourself, sir.’

‘I’m not interested in Q’s high velocity...’

M bit down on his thunderous response on seeing the twinkle in her eye which told him he was making a fool of himself in some way he couldn’t quite fathom.

‘One of these days you’ll go too far, W7,’ he growled. ‘I’ll take you off active duty and you’ll spend the rest of your career working at a desk!’

Deepika Padukone smiled, not without a trace of fondness for the old man, and sauntered over to slide her bottom up onto his desk, letting her skirt ride up above her knees as she twisted around towards him, crossing her legs with a tantalizing hiss of nylons.

‘Oh, you wouldn’t would you?’ she murmured. ‘What possible use could you have for me on a desk?’

M’s eyes were drawn irresistibly to the slowly increasing length of unveiled thigh his agent was displaying, but his loss of concentration was temporary.

‘All right, that’s enough. Sit down, both of you, we have important matters to discuss.’

Deepika made no protest, hopping down off the desk and straightening her skirt. She sat in the indicated chair, hands folded meekly in her lap, her elegantly sculpted features face a picture of respectful attention. M knew that meant she was laughing at him, but he soldiered on and turned to the plasma TV which overlooked his desk.

‘This recording was received by Her Majesty’s Government this morning,’ he said gruffly as Q took his seat alongside Deepika. ‘I want you both to attend closely.’

At the click of a remote control the screen brightened into life and was filled with the leering skull-like face of about the most villainous character Deepika had ever seen. Chin, scalp and flaring nostrils equally devoid of a single hair, he goggled out of the screen at them through thick circular glasses and bared yellowed teeth over a damp, protruding lower lip. He settled back into a great black swivel chair, pulling a white lab coat about his lean, hunched shoulders.

‘Greetings, ladies and gentlemen of the British government,’ he proclaimed expansively. ‘Some of you will already know me. I am Professor Alcibiades, and I have an announcement to make of great import.’

The malevolent-looking figure hunched forward in his seat, the tip of his tongue flicking greedily over his lips.

‘Examine the plans I’ve sent you and I think you’ll find they’re more than enough to demonstrate I’m not bluffing. I have the power to crack open the Earth’s crust beneath your very feet. Cause an earthquake which will devastate your cities and plunge much of Southern England beneath the waves forever! All I ask in return for sparing your lives is the paltry sum of ten billion pounds. To be paid within twenty-four hours of your receiving this message, I’m afraid, so the clock is ticking! Pay up... or start taking swimming lessons, it’s your choice.’

He smirked as if visualizing the indignation and protests of the recipients.

‘I’ll be back in touch soon with instructions for payment. Till then!’

With a flourish he stabbed a control on the arm of his seat and the screen went dark. Grim-faced, M looked across at his two visitors.

‘You begin to understand why I specified that you were required in my office urgently?’

Deepika actually looked a little guilty, her eyes flickering away to one side.

‘Perhaps we should have cut short that last round of... technical briefing.’

‘Never mind that now.’ M threw a sheaf of papers across to Q. ‘See what you make of these. But I’m assured by government scientists that this man is well capable of doing what he says.’

‘Oh, I’m sure of it, sir,’ Q replied. ‘He was once a very respected man, till his schemes for control of the movement of the Earth’s crust became too grandiose and his funding was cut off. If he says he can do it then I don’t doubt him.’

‘So.’ Deepika stretched out her long legs and parked them crossed at the ankles on the edge of M’s desk. ‘I’m to track this character down and take him out of circulation?’

M shook his head.

‘We already know his location. He has somehow been able to construct an undersea base less than a mile off the coast of Cornwall. An ideal spot to attack the fault lines beneath our country, so I’m told.’

‘So no problem then!’ She spread her hands. ‘The navy feeds him a couple of depth charges and we get the afternoon off! Lunch, anyone?’

‘It’s not that simple. The base is heavily defended and well armored. It would be almost impossible to take out in a single strike without giving him a chance to carry out his threat first.’

‘I see.’ She ruffled a hand breezily through the dark waves of her hair. ‘And do I get the sense that the words “An army can’t get in but one woman just might” are marching in the direction of this conversation?’

‘The Prime Minister has agreed an attempt should be made,’ he responded gravely. ‘I’ve told him you’re the very best I have.’

Agent W7's face brightened with a childlike joy.

‘Did you? Oh, that’s so sweet!’ She leapt up and clasped his face between her palms, planting an enthusiastic kiss on his cheek. ‘Thanks, chief.’

‘Stop that.’ He shook her off irritably. ‘And don’t ever call me that again.’

‘Sorry, boss man.’

She dropped back obediently into her seat, still smiling sunnily. He eyed her with exasperation.

‘This isn’t going to be a walk in the park, W7. Alcibiades has used the expectation of the money he’ll extort from us to gather a private army. That base is like a fortress, and it’s going to be difficult for you to carry enough explosives to cripple the whole place.’

‘I think I can help with that,’ Q piped up, lifting his nose from the sheaf of papers M had handed him. ‘These plans are only partial of course, but I see the principle. I’m fairly certain I can tell W7 how to rig Alcibiades’ device so that instead of attacking the fault lines under Britain it will turn in on itself. Destroy the base completely.’

M chewed this over, frowning.

‘It sounds risky. To sabotage the machine itself she’d have to make her way into the very heart of the complex...’

‘... through a subtle blend of stealth and violence!’ Deepika finished cheerfully. ‘Two of my favorite things. I’d say we have a plan.’

‘All right.’ M nodded reluctantly. ‘We have very little time. There’s a helicopter waiting outside to take you to Cornwall. Q, you’d better go along and give her your instructions on the way.’

‘Yes sir.’

The pair gave their simultaneous affirmation and rose from their seats. Before they could leave M took Deepika lightly by the elbow, his craggy old face softening with genuine concern.

‘Deepika, please do be careful. I wish there were another way of handling this.’

She drew breath for a careless dismissal of his fears, then met his eyes and paused. Her features steadied, the frivolity slipping away to reveal a glimpse of the steel which lay beneath. She gave him a kindly smile and spoke softly:

‘Don’t worry old man, I’ll be fine. You know me - indestructible.’
Lurking in the almost total blackness of the ocean floor, Professor Alcibiades’ underwater base crouched like a great steel spider, mighty branches of steel spreading out around the central dome and digging down into the seabed. Here and there the light of a porthole glinted in the murk, standing out like diamonds against the slimy armored bulk of the structure, and cutting hazily through the water were the twin searchlights built into the nose of a tiny one-man submarine.

The base’s defenses were instantly alert, coded transmissions pulsing out to the oncoming craft and torpedo bays sliding open and ready for any incorrect response. The codes came back - all correct. Secondary codes were sent and responded to without delay. The torpedo tubes were stood down and bright white light split into being in the side of the dome as a great shielded door twenty feet high and forty feet across slid open to welcome the sub home.

A lean, weatherbeaten man in his thirties waited on the platform as the submarine surfaced in the docking bay inside the base. It was a vast chamber with an expanse of water leading down to the outer doors, a steel gantry for a jetty and a row of other undersea vehicles safely stowed on their wheeled trailers. He called out a greeting to the man who dragged open the cramped little cockpit.

‘Welcome back. So how’d she handle?’

The younger man nodded thoughtfully whilst squeezing himself up out of his seat.

‘Not bad. Good, actually. But I felt some kind of bump when I was halfway back, and after that... didn’t seem damaged but the handling was sort of sluggish.’

‘Hm. Could have hit a shark or something maybe? I’ll check out the guide fins. I wonder if...’

Engrossed in their discussion, they didn’t notice the dark shape which detached itself from the underside of the sub and with a snakelike sinuous motion traveled underwater to the far side of the dock. Shedding her flippers, oxygen tank and mask and letting them sink to the bottom, Agent W7 surfaced cautiously, casting a glance back at the talking men, and with a single smooth motion pulled herself up out of the water onto dry land.

Water streamed from the oily black surface of her wetsuit, its skintight rubber clinging to her curves and putting her luscious, petite body on display. Barefoot, she padded swiftly across the metal floor to the nearest doorway and slipped inside.

As she’d suspected, it was a storeroom, row after row of steel lockers taking up the main space and high shelves loaded with bulky diving equipment around the walls. She opened up the nearest locker and grinned triumphantly.

‘Score!’

Inside was someone’s spare clothes - a beige uniform with a long white lab coat. She was just pulling the coat out ready to try it on for size when she suddenly froze like a statue.

The far door swung open and the heavy boots she had heard approaching along the corridor clumped heavily into the room. A guard in olive green paramilitary fatigues and cap, pistol holstered at his hip, began a bored inspection of the locker room, taking his time to prowl along the aisles between storage units. He rounded one corner, finding nothing, then another, still nothing. He was unprepared on rounding the third corner to come face to face with a striking brunette in a skintight rubber outfit.

Deepika grinned at him brightly.