With a blizzard raging all around the alpine fortress known as Piz Gloria, James Bond finally had his nemesis trapped. With his father-in-law’s men heavily armed and awaiting instructions, he could finally have his revenge. Revenge on the man who killed his wife, Ernst Stavro Blofeld. It would bring him personal closure, yet cost him his position in the British Secret Service. He had ignored a direct order from his superior, M, to be in Havana that morning. And it would lead to a charge of insubordination, and instant dismissal from the only job that he had ever known.
But the prospect of making the person responsible for his misery pay the ultimate price was too great to pass up. So with his trusty Walther PPK trained on the forehead of the man standing in front of him, he was anticipating the satisfaction of pulling the trigger and ridding the world of a very dangerous individual. The true regret of the moment was that the fat cow named Irma Bunt wasn't there to die along with him. Neither Bond, not Draco, his father-in-law, had any idea of where she was hiding. But Bond swore that he would deal with her.
Blofeld turned around to face his executioner. Bond had foiled his plan to unleash a virus upon the world that would have wiped out all crops and livestock. But Blofeld got his revenge, killing his new bride on their wedding day. But now he was trapped. Bond was surprised by Blofeld's demeanor. There was no panic in his eyes, no fear on his face, just calm. He raised his hands slowly, and that's when 007 noticed the object in his right hand. He immediately recognized it as a dead man’s switch. He had seen third world revolutionaries use crude versions of the device. But the one in Blofeld's hand looked sophisticated. He had to make a choice. Assume that Blofeld was bluffing in an effort to spare his life, or execute him and rely on his training to save himself and the men outside from near certain death.
Blofeld could see his enemy thinking. He told Mr Bond to choose quickly. A sneer formed across his face. Bond only had seconds to decide. Blofeld decided to use the opportunity to go into another long winded speech about world domination, except he never made it past the fifth word. The bullet from Bond's Walther penetrated his forehead, right between the eyes.
Bond instantly rushed towards his fallen enemy and grabbed the device from his hand. He noticed that the button had been pressed, yet there were no explosions or deathtraps activated. It was just as Bond suspected. Blofeld had been bluffing. Piz Gloria didn't explode, and he and Draco’s men were safe.
Bond left the fortress, and he and the men made their way back down to the village at the bottom of the mountains. The weather was comfortable for mid January. The blizzard was one of those storms the Alps were famous for, sudden, and with no warning, and confined to highest elevations.
Bond and Draco’s men noticed that there was more activity from the police and military, but since they were in the country illegally, they didn't want to draw attention to themselves. So they made their way to an unmarked airstrip where a private plane was waiting to take Bond back to England.
Once he was on the plane, and it was in the air, he noticed some paper and pens off to the side. Bond decided that he would resign his commission, rather than wait to be expelled. So he drafted a letter, and once he was in the office, he would give it to M’s secretary, Moneypenny, and have her type it up and hand it to the “old man”.
Bond had regrets about what he did, but knew he would never be able to rest with Blofeld alive. He would always have to be aware of his surroundings, especially since his wife, Tracy, was brutally gunned down on their honeymoon. Blofeld would have meticulously planned any attempt on his life, and it would have distracted him from official government business.
Flying under all radar, the plane reached England in less than an hour. The plane landed, and Bond exited, and got into a car waiting for him. It was his father-in-law, Marc- Ange Draco, head of the second biggest criminal organization in Europe, behind Blofeld's SPECTRE. But now that Blofeld was on ice permanently, Draco was now the most powerful underworld figure on the continent.
As the car drove away, 007 thanked Draco for his help in finding the recently departed Blofeld. And Draco thanked him for avenging Tracy, and he poured two glasses of wine, which both downed quickly. Once that was done, Draco informed Bond that all communication satellites inexplicably failed, every one, no matter what government controlled them, and without warning. And not one government could figure out why.
Bond asked Draco when that occurred, and his father-in-law responded earlier that day, and it made 007 think about the device in Blofeld’s hand, and he wondered if the button having been pushed was the cause of the problems. He thought it was certainly possible, and it would be Blofeld’s final act of defiance towards a world that had branded him public enemy number one.
Bond asked Draco to drop him off at his flat. He needed to start packing for his expected holiday, and wanted to make sure his affairs were in order. And once in his flat, he grabbed a bottle of gin from his wet bar, and as he was pouring himself a glass, there was a knock on the door. He muttered a curse to himself. After all that had happened the last 24 hours, the last thing he wanted was a visitor.
Opening the door, his jaw dropped when he saw M and Moneypenny outside, and before Bond could ask them in, M charged past him, with his secretary in tow. This was highly unusual, M coming to see him. It had only happened on one other occasion, when time was of the essence.
He offered drinks to his visitors. Moneypenny was about to accept, until she was cut off by M, who said that he would deal with Bond’s insubordination later, but right now, there was a catastrophic situation that needed to be handled with the utmost haste. He had Moneypenny hand 007 a dossier, and told him to proceed to Washington, DC, where he was to team up with his friend, Felix Leiter. Bond asked him if this had anything to do with the loss of all communication satellites, and M nodded. Bond knew that without them, Britain and her allies were defenseless against any sort of nuclear attack.
Moneypenny told Bond that all modern aircraft that relied heavily on satellite navigation and communication were grounded, and it wasn't just in Britain. It was everywhere. Therefore, he was to go to MI6’s secondary airstrip, and he was to take the plane there. He would be making two refueling stops, one in Iceland and the other in New Brunswick. It would take him to the CIA’s secret airstrip in northern Maryland. Felix Leiter would meet him there. Bond nodded in acknowledgement.
And as M and Moneypenny were about to leave, Bond could feel M’s cold stare. He told his best agent that the situation was beyond critical. They needed to find out what had happened to their satellites. He also told Bond that he would be unable to communicate with MI6, so that he was doing this mission in the dark. And that failure was not an option. Bond said he understood. And with that, M and Moneypenny departed, and he got busy packing. A week supply of clothes, which was standard, and his trusty attache case, which saved his life on the Orient Express. The case had recently been modified and upgraded by Q branch. It was fitted with stealth technology made with a thin layer of lead, which blocked any x-ray image. But the true genius was the microchip implanted in the case which allowed it to project any image programmed to project on the X-ray image screen. Bond had left it set for clothes, and didn't feel the need to change it, since he wasn't going to a conventional airport.
Once packed, he double checked his flat, making sure that he hadn’t forgotten anything, and left. He turned around the corner, and entered a private garage. He removed the tarp that was covering his Aston Martin DB5, and drove out to the airstrip. While on his journey, strange, auburn colored clouds formed all throughout the sky, and a steady rain started to fall. Bond thought that was a perfect representation of how screwed up things had become throughout the world. And as he approached the old aircraft situated at the far end of the field, he maneuvered the car into the giant carport next to the hanger.
Walking out towards the plane, Bond felt the rain that had been falling. It was the coldest rain he had ever experienced. To him, it felt like sleet, but with much more of a stinging sensation that he could remember. But he boarded the aircraft, buckled in, and pulled out the dossier. He could hear the propellers start their whirring, then spin at tremendous speeds. Soon, the plane was taxiing down the runway. He read the dossier as the plane climbed off the ground. Once the plane stabilized, one of the pilots came out of the cockpit, and informed him that the craft could only reach an altitude of 20,000 ft, which meant that they would experience turbulence at some point. Bond said he understood.
While he was reading the dossier, 007 began to feel extremely tired. It was a tiredness that he had never experienced before. And soon found himself unable to keep his eyes open. And as he drifted off to sleep, he couldn't help but think of his deceased wife, Tracy. He silently told her that the whole world was screwed up, and promised to visit her grave when the mission was over. After all, they had all the time in the world.