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Her information had to be taken at face value - as sketchy as it all seemed. It was the only information he had to go on, even if it all was too good to be true. 

Bond readied his Walther PPK, screwing on the silencer as the heavy rain dampened the sounds of his footsteps and wettened his hair. He made his way through doors and up stairs, over the partitions between roofs and sidling along ledges that split others. Finally he reached the door that blocked the way to his target.

Before barging in he made some preliminary checks. A quick peek through the keyhole confirmed there was nothing blocking it - if the door wasn't unlocked it would be easy enough to be picked, or at worst kicked in. He peaked around the corner and caught the sight of a black sniper rifle barrel pointing out of the window, with the rain battering the long silencer hanging off the end as the gun swayed and tracked the targets on the street below.

This fit the M.O. Scaramanga was never seen, never caught alive. It made sense that he shot from a distance. Bond relfected that his name might've been better fit as 'The Man with the Golden Bullet' over the Golden Gun.

He readied himself against the door. Lockpicking - even with all this rain - might make too much noise for a man holding a heavy caliber weapon like that. James had the element of surprise, but this could quickly be turned against him if he spent too much time looking for a stealthy way in. Even if he'd lockpicked his way in it would take half a second for Scaramanga to draw his firearm and point it directly at him. No, the forward approach was much better this time.

With a heavy boot he kicked open the door and pointed his pistol square in the eyes of the man in front. He was bespectacled, with a small moustache and a mature hairline. His outfit - much the opposite of what Bond had expected - was a light blue checked shirt tucked into a pair of tan chinos with a similar shade of brown shoes. He barely had time to react before the pistol was pointed directly at his head. He didn't react at all, in fact, maintaining his sight through the rifle.

[color=0072bc]"I didn't expect it to be this easy to catch you."[/color]

"Who said it would be this easy?"

He swung the rifle around quicker than Bond could react, swiping the pistol out of his hand and sending it skidding across the floor of the dirty rooftop shack with its tin roof. Bond reacted as quickly as he was caught - sending an elbow into the centre of the rifle and holding his assailants wrist in place with his other hand. The rifle reacted in kind to opposing forces applied to it and spun in the opposite direction to the pistol.

The moustache reacted quickly, sending an uppercut underneath his gripped arm straight to the jaw of Bond that forced him stumbling backwards. He put up his dukes, blocking another 4 strikes before sending a jab followed by a Thai knee to the midsection that enabled him to pull Bond's attacker into the clinch. He stepped out wide and spun him around, sending another knee into his midsection before sweeping his leg out from underneath him and throwing him flat on his back.

Scaramanga wasn't to be defeated though, as soon as he hit his back he refused to let the wind escape him. He rolled over the shoulder closest to bond in a half iminari roll and tangled up Bond's leg into a straight leg lock. A good move for every situation but this - a strategy that would have caught a lesser man than the expertly trained double-oh agent.

Bond stepped back around the side of the leg lock before it could be perfectly secured and dropped an elbow into the chest of the man, forcing him to let go of the lock as a whole. Both men rolled to their feet and emerged gripping their hidden knives. Bonds hidden in his inner coat pocket, the man opposites within his boot.

They clashed blades, sparks and the noise of metal hitting metal echoing out against the rain as they fenced and parried each other across the room. An occasional punch or shin kick adding a spice to the modern day duel.

Finally Bond advanced forward once more, pressing his serrated blade to the throat of the man in front. The only problem was the edge of the combat knife pressing itself into his stomach. They were at a standstill.

[color=0072bc]"It seems we're at an impasse."[/color]

"Seems so." His accent was far from Spanish. It was distinctly midwestern American.

[color=0072bc]"I have to say you're not what I expected."[/color]

"What exactly were you expecting?"

[color=0072bc]"Well, I expected a man with a golden gun to be a bit better dress-"[/color]

He was stopped mid-sentence by a small vibration in his wrist and the glint of a flash in the corner of his eye. The wristwatch Q had provided.

Bond's eyes widened, pulling the blade half an inch back and planting the sole of his shoe on the mystery mans solar plexus and forcing him back along the room with such force that it caused him to fall back and collapse to the ground. Just in time as the crack of a gunshot echoed through the night air and a bullet crashed through the window and pierced the air between them, embedding itself into the ground.

Both men shared a nervous glance between each other, a silent, solemn vow that communicated everything they needed to know. They had no idea who each other was, but neither of them was the man they were looking for.

They both clambered to their original spot, gripping their respective weapons and gazing out the window. Up on high, far away but just close enough to see stood a figure. One wearing a bright white suit, with a rain poncho pulled up over their jacket and their face. On their hip pointing up to the lightning that tore the skyline was a bright golden sniper rifle - one unlike either had seen before. 

Bond couldn't see the figures face. He couldn't see any identifiable features from him. But somehow he knew. He knew that he was smiling.

The figure took off quickly, ducking away under cover of rain and darkness along the roofs. He was too far away and too high up for them to get to quickly. The rain would obscure his tracks and any noise. Scaramanga had been one step ahead.

Bond turned to the man he'd fought as soon as he'd turned to him. For a half second they readied their weapons, and then in a silent agreement they holstered them against their side.

[color=0072bc]"So, you're not Scaramanga, then?"[/color]

"Not quite. The name's Felix Leiter. SHIELD agent."

[color=0072bc]"Bond. James Bond. MI6."[/color]
[table][row][cell]The two men shared a handshake. Leiter was the wrong kind of unassuming. Americans were a strange breed - the more dangerous they got the more docile they looked. For every rough biker-type covered in tattoos posting pictures of themselves in tactical gear holding over accessorized rifles there was a Felix Leiter hidden in plain sight behind them. He looked more like a dad ready to start a barbecue than he did a trained killer.

And that's how Bond knew that SHIELD would send someone like him to track Scaramanga. Of course he wasn't the man himself, he wasn't flashy enough. A guy like this wouldn't carry around a golden gun - he'd carry around just enough to get the job done. 

"MI6, huh? This is my first time meeting a double-oh."

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[color=2e2c2c]____________________________________[/color][/cell][/row][/table][color=0072bc]"How can you tell?"[/color]

"No way they'd send anything less for a target like this. I'm lucky enough they've got me on this detail."

Lucky. Quite the word to use. Far away from anything Bond would have described the situation.

[color=0072bc]"Well, Cowboy. It seems we've both been led down the rabbithole with no clue how to get out."[/color]

The sound of ziplines and the agents zipping down them punctuated the air. Too many to be allies.

"Well, what's say we make our own clues, limey?"

[color=0072bc]"Must be my lucky day."[/color]

The footsteps of balacava'd men surrounded the shack, around and on top. Felix raised a finger to his lips, maintaining as much of the broken secrecy they had as possible. He pointed his other thumb to a long, wide case next to him and crouched as quickly and quietly as he could - unlocking it when he was close enough.

Bond approached him all the same. Inside was two weapons, both as sci-fi and foreign as Bond would have expected from a SHIELD agent. They both stood, facing the door and the window that their assailants had to come through. Bond gripped the [url=https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/1/1a/HK_G11_with_bayonet.jpg]H&K G11 [/url] experimental rifle in his hands, while Leiter was pointing a [url=https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/4/4d/Franchi_SPAS_12_Grip_Safety.jpeg/330px-Franchi_SPAS_12_Grip_Safety.jpeg]SPAS-12[/url] in the direction of the window without the barrel penetrating out of it.

The two agents nodded to each other. Bond could only appreciate the mutual professionalism received from an ally he'd held a knife to only moments ago. Both had been trained enough to know what was next.

The door was kicked in for a second time, the masked men attempting to burst their way in at the same time as the ziplines jumped down and into the room.

The three round burst made short work of the three making their way through the door, the two barrages piercing through the first man and into the two following. A volley of shotgun blasts sent the three abseiling in through the windows sliding down their ropes until their corpses ultimately fell onto the streets below.

Again, the two agents nodded to each other. There was no time to be lost with idle chatter. Now was the time for hard facts.

[color=0072bc]"Have you got an escape plan, cowboy?!"[/color]

"Plan, no. Escape yes." Called back Leiter, loading more shells into his shotgun. "I've got a plane not far out the city. Thought I could walk there though, didn't expect shit to hit the fan so quickly."

[color=0072bc]"How big's your plane?"[/color]

"What's it matter how big it is?"

[color=0072bc]"I've got an Aston Martin and I've promised a friend I won't lose it."[/color]

"Big enough, pal. Always happy to ride in style."

Bond smiled back at the American. He liked this guy.

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The door was hanging almost off its hinges from being kicked in twice now. Felix gripped both ends and with a mighty tug broke it from the frame. Just in time too as a shower of bullets hit and richocheted off the metal door from a pair of agents standing at the end of the roof.

Felix turned over his shoulder and communicated everything he needed with a nod and a stern look. Bond put a hand on his shoulder, both men crouching slightly so that the door was almost flush against the ground. Bullets continued to ping off their makeshift shield until they were in range. With his rifle slung over his shoulder with the strap, he reached for his Walther and with ruthless precision dispatched one of the agents with two shots to the mid section and one right between the eyes.

In the meantime, Leiter charged the remaining agent who was desperately emptying his mag and turning to run away. Felix pushed the door towards his back, sending him stumbling down as the SHIELD agent followed it up with a mighty forearm - sending the man tumbling to his doom off the roof. 

Bond checked the slide of his pistol, glancing up at Felix. [color=0072bc]"I like your style."[/color]

"Thank you kindly."

The two cautiously checked their mags, taking what they could from the equipment around them as they had a hurried conversation. [color=0072bc]"So just what exactly are SHIELD doing in Kowloon, Mr. Leiter? Scaramanga seems a bit out of your teams realm of interest."[/color]

Felix was loading a few shells into his shotgun. "You're not wrong there. It's not Scaramanga we're worried about - its who he's been working for."

[color=0072bc]"And who, pray tell, is that?"[/color]

Felix stopped for a moment, resting the butt of the shotgun against his hip with the barrel pointing into the air. "Ever heard of HYDRA?"

[color=0072bc]"I can't say I have."[/color]

"I'm not surprised. They collapsed not long after the war. Some small pockets here and there during the cold war, but nothing we couldn't handle."

[color=0072bc]"So you're saying they're back?"[/color]

"We're worried they never left."

Before they could continue the sound of a helicopter broke the noise of the rain, more ziplines announced the arrival of further Hydra goons being deployed on buildings all around them. 

[color=0072bc]"Time to go."[/color]

"You said it, pal."

Their exit was hurried even further by the return of the helicopter, making its way to their position and this time with the two large miniguns pointing in their direction. They began to sprint as a shower of bullets followed them, the horrific tearing noise of the miniguns only matched by the loud clanging that the bullets made as they hit concrete and steel. 

James, with his pistol still at the ready, shot a number of bullets through the window of an approaching building, just in the right spots so that when he jumped and threw his shoulder the glass smashed cleanly. Leiter jumped through the space and over James and both tumbled onto their stomachs, the helicopter continuing its path with its guns destroying the room around them.

[color=0072bc]"Your friends seem upset."[/color] Bond shouted over the noise.

"HYRDA ain't very good at letting things go!"

The helicopter swung around outside the shattered windows, floodlights cutting through the rain and sweeping across the building interior like prison searchlights. Bond caught sight of black-armoured figures fast-roping onto the adjacent rooftop. Too many of them. "If we stay here we're dead in thirty seconds!"

Leiter saw it too. His eyes  flicked around the ruined room quickly. Destroyed furniture. Liquor shelves. Wiring hanging exposed from the ceiling. Then finally gas lines running beside the kitchen wall. Felix allowed himself a smile.

"I've got an idea!"

Felix reached inside his combat vest and pulled out a pack of gum. He opened it and began unwrapping a piece inside.

[color=0072bc]"Felix, if your plan is to die with minty breath I think we should explore some alternatives!"[/color]

Felix put the gum in his mouth and chewed quickly. "What can I say? Flying makes me stressed!" The SHIELD agent quickly took the gum out of his mouth and tossed it towards the damaged gas pipe beside the kitchen. It stuck right where he wanted it. "Time to move, James!"

The two men sprinted through the opposite doorway just as the room behind them vanished in a violent orange fireball. The blast wave punched through the walls and windows simultaneously, engulfing half the floor in flames and forcing the helicopter to veer sideways through the smoke. It almost crashed into a building opposite, the blades sparking and slicing at the concrete before the pilot took control once more.

But Felix wasn't aiming to destory the helicopter. He was aiming to cause chaos.

HYDRA agents shouted across rooftops while civilians below screamed and scattered through the rain-soaked streets of Kowloon. Car alarms began blaring beneath the gunfight above.

Bond and Felix burst out into a narrow alley three floors below via an emergency stairwell, both coughing through smoke and dust.

[color=0072bc]"You must tell me what brand of gum you buy."[/color] Bond quipped.

"Limited edition. SHIELD's own brand."

The alley opened onto a packed street market still operating - albeit with a hint of tension in the air - despite the chaos overhead. The rain and hum of electronics did a good job at masking the noise above, and Kowloon was no stranger to trouble. 

A spotlight hit the duo and the sound from a loudspeaker ehcoed from above like the voice of god. "Targets visual confirmed."

Felix looked upward. "That's not good."

Bond followed his gaze just in time to see the helicopter banking around the buildings toward the street itself.

[color=0072bc]"Oh dear."[/color]

The mounted guns opened fire. The market erupted into panic. Food carts exploded apart beneath the barrage while crowds scattered in every direction. Bond grabbed a terrified child out of the line of fire instinctively, shoving him toward cover behind a concrete pillar before diving alongside Felix through a fish stall.

The Aston Martin sat nearly a block away beneath flickering neon signs exactly where Bond had left it earlier that evening. Unfortunately between them and the car stood about twenty armed HYDRA agents. Felix checked the shells remaining in his SPAS-12. "You still think this is your lucky day?"

Bond straightened his cuffs calmly despite the bullets flying overhead. [color=0072bc]"Mr. Leiter, if this were my lucky day I'd be in Monte Carlo with a martini."[/color]

Another explosion erupted nearby. "You get us out of here and I'll make you a martini myself!"

Bond suddenly grabbed a hanging electrical cable next to them and with quickly used the garrote wire from his cufflinks to cut it in half. It started sparking beside them and looked toward a flooded section of the street where several HYDRA troops were advancing.

Bond tossed the live wire into the water and shockwaves rippled through it. The electrified floodwater surged outward in bright violent flashes, sending the approaching soldiers convulsing violently before collapsing into the street. The remaining agents recoiled in panic.

Bond adjusted his tie. [color=0072bc]"Shocking behaviour."[/color]

The two men sprinted through the confusion toward the Aston Martin as the helicopter descended lower between the buildings behind them like a mechanical predator. Felix lowered to a crouch-run as they passed the bodies, gripping the tactical vest of one of the agents and dragging his unconscious body behind them.

[color=0072bc]"What are you doing?"[/color]

"I'm not going back empty handed. We're taking him with us."

He pressed the unlock button and the one for the boot as they approached. Bond vaulted over the bonnet and slid directly into the driver's seat while Felix quickly loaded the unconscious man into the boot and climbed in opposite him still clutching the shotgun.

The engine roared to life instantly. "Now this is nice."

[color=0072bc]"You Americans say the sweetest things."[/color]

The helicopter dropped into the street behind them just as Bond buried his foot against the accelerator. The Aston Martin surged forward through the neon-lit streets of Kowloon, its tyres fighting for grip against rain-slick asphalt. Around them the city became a blur of glowing signs, crowded intersections and startled civilians diving out of the way. Bond threaded the Aston between taxis, delivery vans and market stalls with the sort of confidence that suggested he considered traffic laws more of a polite suggestion than a rule.

Behind them the helicopter remained stubbornly persistent.

It climbed above the rooftops only to descend moments later between the buildings, its floodlights sweeping across the streets as twin miniguns spat streams of fire toward their position. Concrete shattered behind the Aston while rounds chewed through signs, storefronts and anything - or anyone - unfortunate enough to be caught in their path.

"Bond, we've gotta lose this guy!" Felix shouted over the noise. "The plane'll be a sitting duck if he follows us to the runway!"

[color=0072bc]"I've got a plan."[/color]

Bond didn't bother to elaborate just yet. Instead he continued driving, taking turns that seemed increasingly random. They crossed canals, doubled back on themselves and circled entire city blocks. To anyone else it would have looked aimless. To Bond it was simply a matter of finding the right piece of terrain.

Eventually he spotted it. A drawbridge spanning one of Kowloon's harbour channels, already beginning to rise to allow a freighter through beneath it.

[color=0072bc]"How's your hacking?"[/color] Bond asked.

"Good enough. What do you need?"

[color=0072bc]"I need that bridge up as quickly as possible."[/color]

Felix produced a compact SHIELD device from his vest and flipped it open, tapping into a small keyboard.

"Piece of cake."

Bond wasn't entirely convinced. Americans had a tendency to describe incredibly complicated things as simple right before they exploded. Still, a glance in the mirror showed the bridge beginning to rise faster than before, its warning lights flashing as the mechanism groaned into motion. Felix gave a satisfied nod.

"There. Now what?"

[color=0072bc]"Now we hope your technology is as good as you say."[/color]

The helicopter emerged from between two office towers behind them, descending lower as it closed the distance. Whoever was piloting it had clearly decided that things were personal.

Bond accelerated.

The Aston's engine roared in protest as they charged toward the rising bridge. Rain hammered against the windscreen while the gap beneath the structure widened steadily. Behind them the helicopter followed, committed now to the chase.

At the last possible moment Bond activated the nitrous and the Aston leapt forward. Simultaneously he touched the handbrake just enough to unsettle the rear wheels. The car swung sideways as it hit the incline of the rising bridge and launched into open air.

For a brief second there was only rain, steel and empty space beneath them. Then the Aston's headlights slid down and a pair of machine guns emerged from behind them. Bond pressed the firing stud mounted discreetly into the steering wheel and the machine guns erupted to life.

Tracer rounds streaked through the darkness toward the pursuing helicopter. The pilot answered immediately, the two streams of fire crossing one another above the harbour while the rain flashed silver in the muzzle bursts.

Bond wasn't trying to destroy the aircraft. Even he knew that was optimistic. He merely needed to distract the pilot.

The rounds shattered sections of the windshield and forced the helicopter slightly off course, but fortunately, slightly was all it took. One of the rotors clipped the steel framework of the rising bridge. The sound was deafening, the scream of metal against metal practically played in slow-motion as the two watched in hope.

The helicopter lurched violently sideways as fragments of rotor blade exploded outward. For a moment it appeared the pilot might regain control. Then the tail section struck the bridge itself.

That ended any hope of recovery.

The aircraft spun twice before slamming into the steel structure and disappearing into a blossom of orange flame. The explosion illuminated the harbour below and sent burning debris raining into the water. The Aston landed hard on the far side of the channel. Bond fought the wheel, corrected the slide and accelerated away before anyone involved had the opportunity to change their minds.

Beside him Felix looked back through the rear window at the burning wreckage.

"I take back everything I've ever said about British cars."

Bond allowed himself a small smile.  The remainder of the journey passed considerably more peacefully. By the time they reached the airfield the unconscious HYDRA operative had begun stirring in the boot. Bond watched as Felix and a pair of ground crew loaded both prisoner and Aston Martin into the cargo aircraft.

[color=0072bc]"Please tell me he isn't bleeding on the upholstery."[/color]

Felix glanced at the captive. "A little."

Bond sighed. [color=0072bc]"Q is never going to let me hear the end of this."[/color]

"Club soda my friend. Works a charm."

Several hours later they were airborne. Bond occupied the co-pilot's seat while Felix guided the aircraft through a blanket of cloud that seemed to stretch endlessly in every direction. The prisoner remained secured in the cargo bay behind them, still groggy and thoroughly confused.

[color=0072bc]"So where exactly are we headed?"[/color] Bond asked. [color=0072bc]"Because I'm still no closer to finding Scaramanga than I was this morning."[/color]

Felix nodded toward the rear of the aircraft. "That's what I'm hoping our friend back there can help us with. We're headed back home. Safest place for the interrogation."

[color=0072bc]"And where is home?"[/color]

Felix smiled. "Don't worry, James. I'm sure everyone will make you feel more than welcome."

A few hours later the clouds ahead began to part.

Bond had seen photographs of the SHIELD Helicarrier before. Intelligence briefings. Grainy reconnaissance images. The sort of pictures that inevitably made revolutionary technology look rather ordinary.

The reality was something else entirely.

The colossal vessel hung suspended above the clouds like a floating city. Massive engines thundered beneath its structure while aircraft moved across its vast flight deck in carefully choreographed patterns. Sunlight reflected from steel and glass alike, turning the entire machine into something that looked less engineered and more mythical.

For perhaps the first time that day, James Bond found himself momentarily speechless.

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