Disclaimer: I own neither James Bond 007 nor Fate/Zero or Fate/Stay Night.
Chapter I – You Only Live Twice
He'd received the call in his apartment thirty minutes ago, ordering to come in to receive new orders. He entered the outer office and as usual found the old woman's assistant busy typing up some report or other, after a couple of minutes she looked up from her work and saw him.
“James. To what do I owe the pleasure?” she said in fake astonishment.
“Maybe I just wished to pay you a visit, Moneypenny,” he replied.
“Now if you could just manage to visit out of office hours,” her voice was a mixture of flirtatious and sarcastic.
“I wasn't aware there was such a thing.”
“Indeed,” she responded, raising an eyebrow, “You'd best go in, she's expecting you. There's already someone in there with her, he looked like a priest.”
“A priest?” he asked, to which Moneypenny simply made a gesture indicating that she didn't know what to make of it either. Wondering what was going on he walked over to the entrance to M's office and rapped firmly on the door.
“Enter,” came his superior's voice from the other side.
He pushed the door open and found and found M already engage in conversation with someone. Sure enough he looked like a priest and judging from his outfit he would guess the man was a representative of the Church of England. On the floor next to the man's chair, was a briefcase, holdall and on top of the holdall was a thick, leather-bound tome.
“Ah, Bond good. Take a seat,” M said indicating the second, only empty seat in front of her desk. Bond complied without a fuss. He felt unsure of himself and in his line of work that was a feeling one grew to dislike. He noticed the priest turn his head to stare at him intently, as if studying a specimen he had placed some importance on.
“So this is the man you spoke of?” the priest asked.
“Yes it is,” M replied, before turning to address Bond, “Listen 007, you're going to hear things in this briefing that may be a little difficult to believe. I know it's not your speciality but try and be patient.” All of this was said in her usual curt manner.
“M, I've been witness to some very bizarre things before including a space station built by a racial supremacist.” The older woman merely snorted at his words.
“Trust me, you've never heard anything like this,” she said, folding her arms atop her desk, “So tell me Bond, do you believe in magic?” He had to struggle to maintain his amused expression, he certainly hadn't been expecting her to say something like that.
“Magic?” he echoed, “You mean pulling rabbits out of hats?”
“I mean, as in Merlin of King Arthur's court,” she answered, as though she hadn't just said something incredible.
“...Maybe you've been working to hard,” Bond replied, privately he wondered whether age had finally caught up with her/ Perhaps she had started to go senile.
“Don't take that tone with me,” she said in an unamused tone of voice, then sighed. “I can't fault your disbelief 007 but I assure you it's all true. Indeed the centre of the Magic Association the Clocktower, is here in London, a benefit of being the centre of the world when magic practitioners began making international cooperation a priority. Although I use the words benefit and cooperation very loosely.” Bond merely stared at her for a moment or two, he was contemplating going back into the outer office and asking Moneypenny to call for the company psychiatrist.
“In fact,” M continued, “You've already worked with a magus before. Do you remember your encounter with Kiritsugu Emiya?”
Bond paused, Kiritsugu Emiya, A Japanese man he'd met once during a visit to Germany; as it turned out both of them had been hunting the same man. He'd been a cold, cynical man and Bond had gotten the impression that this man had suffered more in his childhood than most regular people did in the whole lives. Emiya had also been ruthlessly efficient, sometimes utilising tactics that Bond himself might have been weary of. But to say the man was capable of performing magic...
“Perhaps I should take it from here?” the priest finally spoke up.
“By all means,” M replied.
“Hello mister Bond, I am a representative of the Church of England my name is Martin Blessing, and appropriate name for a priest I know. However, as well as a priest I am also a magus.” Bond raised and eyebrow at this, a priest that openly claimed to practice witchcraft? However he made no comment.
“I can understand your scepticism,” Martin continued, “Please allow me to demonstrate.” The priest lifted a piece of paper from the desk and closed his eyes in concentration, after a couple of moments a thin layer of ice began to creep slowly over the paper. Bond was struck speechless for a moment or two, when the power of speech returned to him he said:
“Impressive.”
“Hardly,” the priest chuckled, “There are many magus' with greater abilities than I. Now as for why I'm here, as you know her majesty herself is head of the Church of England and this request comes directly from her.” An atmosphere of formality washed over the room and Bond sat up a little straighter.
“A war is brewing mister Bond and the eye of the storm is in Japan.” The priest then launched into an explanation on the situation.
The war as it turned out was between seven magus, known as “Masters”, and the summoned spirits of legendary warriors, known as “Servants”. They would then fight until only one pair was left, the victors would then claim the Holy Grail, which would grant them anything they wished for. He also explained that the crown was uneasy about this after events that had transpired at the end of the last war. Not to mention that quite a number of mages were almost amoral, the idea of any of them getting a wish without limits should strike fear into any right-minded person.
He had also made a point to explain that the “Holy Grail” wasn't actually the cup that had caught the blood of Christ but an incredibly powerful magic artefact that had been named after it.
Bond was beginning to doubt his own sanity as he found he was actually believing the words coming from the other man's mouth.
“The church has approached you because we have no other choice. The Vatican has its own department to deal with supernatural threats, known as the Burial Agency. We however, have no such equivalent, we've simply never needed it before,” Martin continued, “And I must stress that everything I have just told is to be kept in the strictest confidence, the Association does not like its secrets getting out and has a bad habit of killing those that discover them.
“I believe I understand,” Bond said, leaving out the just about, “However, what makes you believe that I'm suitable for this assignment?”
“I'll answer that,” said M, “Do you remember the physical that I ordered all double 0's to go through two weeks ago?” Bond did remember, it was the longest physical examination he had ever been through and there had been a few test on their that he hadn't remembered ever performing before.
“Well,” M continued, “Those test were actually to find the best candidate for this assignment. As it turns out, not only do you have the largest number of magic circuits out of all current agents but yours have shown the least amount of atrophy, despite never being consciously used.” Magic circuits? Bond never got to voice his question as M continued:
“Second, your meeting with Emiya means you've had more contact with magus than any other agent and you're already familiar with Japan itself, at least, more so than any other agaent..” M smiled, “Finally, you have a record for completing missions that many others would find impossible.” Bond nearly blinked in surprise, that had sounded dangerously close to being a compliment.
“Your mission isn't to acquire the grail but to stop anyone who may pose a threat to Britain and her interest from laying a hand on it. Understood?” Bond nodded, of course the easiest way to accomplish that would be to win the thing himself.
M nodded to Martin who then reached down and lifted the briefcase from beside his chair.
“This briefcase,” the priest began, “Contains several special relics that the Church has collected over the years, they may prove useful to you.” Next he reached down and produced the tome, “This book contains a great deal of information on magic and how to perform it. I have bookmark the page with instructions on how to summon a servant.” Lastly he produced the holdall.
“Finally,” he said, “You will need a catalyst with which to summon a servant,” he unzipped the bag to reveal a very old-looking snare drum and Bond lifted an eyebrow.
“We procured this from Buckland Abbey, it is the drum Sir Francis Drake took with him on every one of his voyages and is said to be able summon him if England is ever in danger.”
“Bond,” M spoke again, “When you get to Japan, you are to meet with a Raiga Fujimura, he will give you the lay of the local land, here's his profile, along with further instructions” she handed in a brown envelope, “Be careful what you say and who you say it to. Other than Fujimura himself, we have no idea which members of his organization know about the existence of magecraft. Now, Moneypenny has your tickets, your plane leaves in an hour. Dismissed and good luck.”
- - -
It was dark when Bond's plane touched down in Fuyuki airport, he'd spent most of the flight studying the tome Father Martin had given him, attempting to memorise as much of the summoning ritual as he could. After he had collected his luggage and given it a quick glance over to make sure everything was in order, he had headed outside intending to find the man who was to take him to the address in Fujimura's profile. However once he got outside he found a man in a suit holding a sign that said “Bond” in English. He approached the man who asked:
“Mister Bond?” Bond nodded in reply and the man made a sharp motion with his head and headed in to the car park, Bond followed close behind. The man lead him to a black Mercedes and opened the trunk for Bond to place his belongings in, then the rear door.
“Arigato,” Bond said, as he got in to the car.
There was very little traffic at this time of night and the journey the Fujimura estate took a little over ten minutes. The two rode in silence the whole way and Bond spent this time thinking, one of the same thoughts he'd had on the plane. He wasn't sure how he felt about being back in Japan, he had some very good memories here but also some very bad ones..
When they arrived at the estate Raiga Fujimura himself was waiting for them at the entrance, he recognised the man immediately from his picture. He was taller than was average for a Japanese man and was slightly better built than average too; his black hair was shot through with patches of grey.
“Good evening, Bond-san,” Fujimura said with a bow.
“Good evening, Fujimura-san,” Bond replied in Japanese, returning the bow.
“Oh, you speak Japanese?”
“Yes, although it has been a while since I have needed to use it,” Bond answered.
“We could talk in English is you like?”
“No, that's okay. If I'm going to do my job properly I'll need to brush-up.”
“I understand. Please come this way, there is someone inside who wishes to speak to you and then we can get down to business. It was quite a surprise to me when he arrived” Bond hesitated slightly, someone else knew about his arrival here? Still, it would he seem he had no choice but to go see who it was, part of him wished he hadn't had to give up his Walther before boarding the plane.
He walked through the door Fujimura had led him to and was struck by the dissonance. Outside it looked like a highly traditional Japanese mansion and gardens but this room resembled a western bar, complete with oak panelling and as many different bottles of spirits as he could imagine. There was a handful of men scattered around the room and there sitting up against the bar was...
“Tiger!”
“It has been a while Bond-san,” responded “Tiger” Tanaka, head of the Koan-Chosa-Cho.
“I take it you heard about my assignment?”
“Do not worry, I am not here to interfere. Officially I am only here to let you know we are aware of your presence in our country. Unofficially, I am to tell you that Japan has a vested interest in the outcome of your mission and I can provide you with aid should you require it later on.”
“So you two know each other. Good, that saves time,” Fujimura said, “May I offer either of you a drink?”
“I have had one already,” Tiger replied, “But I believe Bond-san will have a vodka-martini.”
“If you have it,” Bond said, eyeing the bottles behind the bar.
“Very well,” Fujimura made a motion to one of the men standing around the room and the man immediately headed to make the drinks. “Ah, I would also like both of you to be aware that the only members of my organisation that know of the moonlit world are all here in this room, I would particularly like to keep my wife and daughter out of it.” Bond nodded in understanding, it was likely the only reason the man was getting involved at all was because the war was taking place in his city.
Forty-five minutes later Bond and Fujimura both had empty glasses in front of them and all three men were looking over maps of the city. Tiger and Fujimura had just finished informing him what each district of the city contained and which parts were best avoided unless he was armed.
“Now then gentlemen, I believe we should wrap up for the night,” Fujimura said eventually. “Bond-san, the car will take you back to your hotel but first I believe you need to perform your summoning. I've cleared out an old storehouse for you to use. You have a catalyst?”
“In my holdall,” Bond replied. Fujimura nodded at one of his men, who then departed and reappeared a minute later with the aforementioned luggage.
Not long after that, the three of them were standing in empty storehouse, looking down at the odd markings Bond had copied out of his book onto the floor. He had drawn with a bottle of red liquid that had been in the same bag as the drum, an attached not had said it was paint infused with mana. In the centre of the marking sat Drake's drum.
Bond flicked to the next page of the book and began to recite the words that were written there. At first he felt incredibly foolish, but then the runes had begun to glow brighter and brighter, so bright that Bond almost needed to cover his eyes. When he eventually finished the incantation the light slowly began to fade and then disappeared completely.
And there standing in the middle of the circle, right next to the drum was a woman with long, red hair, a scar running diagonally across her face over the bridge of her nose and a pair of noticeably large breasts. She grinned at him roguishly:
“I'm servant Rider and you must be my master.”
- - -
And that makes four, four ongoing fics I have at the current moment, thus I will not be starting any more until at least one of these is finished. Well, I say that let's see If I stick to it. I do have a one-shot that I'll be posting in a bit.
Anyway yeah, a lot of talking this chapter, there should be more action in the next one.
Also, I will be drawing on aspects from both the books and the films.
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Originally Posted by PhoenixAct
