Anya tried to relax her mind to the point where she would be able to get a little sleep, but it was no use. All those techniques she learned on those survival courses were proving to be ineffective. She didn't know why, and that was starting to bother her.
So she got back out of bed, dressed, and went over to Holly, who was busy making mental notes of all the vehicles in the parking lot. There weren't many, and most seemed to be the kind that business travelers would use as they went from state to state.
She noticed Anya coming towards her with a cup of coffee. Holly appreciated the offer. The two women, once rivals in the espionage business, had taken vastly different paths once the cold war ended. Holly had gone into academia, teaching classes in a variety of subjects dealing with astrophysics and jet propulsion technology. She also would occasionally help Felix Leiter with sensitive, off the books operations, keeping her in the game. Anya had moved over to the military intelligence sector, running a highly efficient and effective unit that would identify and eliminate threats to Russian national security.
But as different as their backgrounds were, here they both were, facing an uncertain future thanks to the changes going on throughout the world. They both understood that whatever was happening was benefiting them and all females of the planet, at the expense of men. It made both a little uncomfortable. They looked at James Bond sleeping on the bed, and felt sorry for him. For all his wisecracking about Anya's driving or Holly's knowledge of rockets, he never hesitated in risking his life to save theirs. Now, he, along with all the other men in the world, were shrinking before their eyes. And yet, he still would be willing to risk his life to save them.
Holly finished her coffee, and then went to do a perimeter check around the motel. The vehicles in the parking lot hadn't changed, so she was able to focus on the areas with trees and bushes, but found nothing out of the ordinary. Satisfied, she headed back to the motel room.
Upon entering, she found that Anya had drifted off in the chair. Looking at her watch, she noticed that it was time to wake 007 up for his shift. Bond groggily got out of bed, and went to the sink to splash water on his face. Holly brought him a cup
of coffee, which he quickly drank. The caffeine gave him a jolt, and helped clear his mind. It was then that he noticed that he was looking up even more at Holly, by about 6 inches he guessed.
She put her hand on his cheek, as if to let him know that she noticed the same thing, but that everything would be fine once they discovered the cure for what was happening. She bent down and gave him a kiss on the cheek and said that all was normal and quiet on her patrol. And with that, she stripped down to her underwear and laid in the bed, quickly drifting off to sleep.
Bond went into his bag and grabbed the Ruger 9mm. With his loss of height, weight, and he guessed strength as well, the weapon felt heavier and bulkier in his hand. He tried to maneuver it from hand to hand, but it was too uncomfortable, so he grabbed the smaller Walther and a flashlight. Both objects were starting to feel large in his hands, but they were still light enough for him to maneuver the objects.
He went over to the window, and quickly did a scan of the parking lot. Everything appeared normal, so he made sure his gun was loaded and ready to be fired, then began his patrol of the grounds.
His first walk around was uneventful. Nothing was stirring, there was no activity in the lot, and there was ample light provided by the moon, which allowed him to see a fair distance. Nothing. He then reversed, and patrolled in the opposite direction.
All was normal until Bond spotted what appeared to be an intoxicated woman walking along the edge of the motel grounds. She stumbled forward, and 007 went to offer assistance. Standing straight up, Bond noticed that she was quite a bit taller than either Anya or Holly, only coming up to her breasts. Once he was sure that she would be fine, he wished her a good night and went back to his patrol.
But something immediately made him sense something was wrong. He couldn’t remember any bar in the area, and the diner down the road was closed. He was trying to think of where the drunk girl could have come from when he heard heavy footsteps coming up behind him.
He instinctively reached for the Walther, but it was too late. A large, powerful hand grabbed hold of his wrist, and with enough force to cause him intense pain and drop his weapon. He struggled to free himself, even using his free hand in the attempt. But it was no use. The hand still gripped his wrist tightly.
He tried one more move to break free. Crouching ever so slightly, he sprang up and forced his head back, catching his assailant flush in the face, causing them to release his wrist. He saw stars, as he felt as if he just head-butted a brick wall. He turned around, and was shocked to see the supposedly drunk girl glaring at him with menace in her eyes.
Bond instinctively backed up, only for the girl to be on him quicker than he anticipated. She reached for his neck, and he was barely able to deflect her muscled arm. He then tried to throw a punch with everything he had, catching her on the lower jaw, only for him to yelp in pain on contact. The punch had little effect. She grabbed Bond by the back of the neck, and with very little effort, applied enough pressure to render him unconscious.
Bond's limp body fell to the ground. The girl bent down and without effort lifted him over her shoulder and carried him to a black cargo van parked down the road. Opening the door, a voice from the driver's seat asked her if she had any problems. The girl responded that he was feistier than she anticipated, but he didn't present too much trouble otherwise.
She placed Bond's unconscious body on the floor of the van, got in and closed the door, and the van drove off, heading west towards Vegas. The girl felt her face from where Bond head-butted her, making sure that her teeth were still intact. Satisfied, she just looked at the small figure on the floor and laughed to herself.
Anya had set her alarm for 4:00am. Waking up, she noticed that the room was empty, except for Holly on the bed. James was nowhere to be found. She immediately sensed that something was very wrong. She woke Holly, and told her what she was feeling.
The women grabbed their weapons and flashlights, and immediately went out to look around the grounds, each starting off in opposite directions. Anya was carefully inspecting every inch of the grounds. She spotted the Walther and a flashlight on the ground, and called out for Holly, who quickly joined her. Looking at the weapon, she quickly scanned the surrounding area, and the darkness of the night should have made detecting any sign of struggle impossible. But both women had special, government issued torches, that allowed them to detect the smallest hints of a struggle, as well as any bodily fluids that may have been present. Both saw the same thing. There had been an altercation of some sort.
The women looked at each other. Their hearts sank. They knew something happened to James, and with him in his diminished physical state, he was probably unable to ward off any attack. Both Anya and Holly looked at each other, and realized that they needed to get to Vegas, and quickly. They went back to room and quickly formulated a plan. Holly tried to remember the structure in the desert that led to the entrance of the underground tunnels beneath the old Whyte House complex. Once she did, both ladies removed any trace of their presence, paid the bill, and hopped into the van and headed west, not noticing a nondescript black sedan that followed them out of the motel parking lot.