James woke up, sweaty and naked, with a cold feeling on his temple. He looked up to find Arlovskaya's skeletal fingers wrapped around the Soviet-made pistol pressuring ever so slightly against his head. "Enjoy hell." Natalia smirked, like a retail assistant trying to sell his lowest-quality product. "You first." Bond replied, slapping the pistol out of the Belarusian's hands and letting it fall to the floor. He then grabbed her arm and twisted it until it snapped. He then got up, parted her and the pistol, and walked the hell out of the Kinyōbi Hotel.
***
The phone rang again. "Q?" Bond answered. "Q is no longer employed by Mi6."
"Cut the crap. Did you stop Obama getting on Air Force One?"
"No. But I have sent an agent out to disable the bomb."
"Fuck you. This is my glory." Bond snapped, jamming his finger on the buttons to end the correspondence.
Meanwhile, in London, Lexi was sat alone in her bed, loathing every inch of her body and even more of her mind. She stared down at the previous night's cuts and realised she was useless as she was. She needed to get respect, and fast. She opened her MacBook Air and searched for flights to the District of Columbia, booking one that required her to get ready immediately. Lexi squeezed into a black minidress with thigh-high leather boots and tossed a purple wig nonchalantly over her hair.
***
Lexi boarded the rickety plane that looked a lot like it had been used on an insurgency mission and sat down, knowing that she would soon get the glory for this task. BAM! The engine cut out, the aircraft landing next to a small brick building in foliage camo. Lexi was dragged out by a man in a mask and pushed into the building. "So, we've got the little tranny in our trap?" the masked man asked, his Northern accent heavy. "Trap? What are you, Arlovskaya's carer?"
"No. I am her bodyguard." he replied, whipping his mask off.
