Duty Calls

by gcsmith

Rating: teen
Tags: Adventure, Sex, Tragedy, Princess Celestia, Crossover, Alternate Universe, Twilight Sparkle, Princess Luna, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Other, Romance
Length: 3822

When duty calls, James Bond always answers, even if the caller is a little less human than he would otherwise like.

He is a man of many names.
He freed the waters of Loch Silverfin; braved the barbarian wilds of Sicily; cracked the difference code; walked the path of the Mayan Gods on the Isle of Black Tears; and served his country.
Regardless of the challenges he faced; the drinks he held in his hand; or the women wrapped around his fingers, he was always the man who can't be contained.

After all, a Bond never gives up.

(Sex tag is for extremely mild sexual themes, it is a Bond story after all.)

Published 2014-08-12 19:00:06 UTC
Last updated 2014-08-12 19:00:06 UTC

Prologue - The Name is Max

--Winter 1915, Earth--

The scent of sweat and human waste are nauseating at one in the morning. But he didn't notice. He was too busy, his fingers scratching at the wall in a flurry. The man, a lanky, pale figure, worked dedicatedly, his bloodied fingers slowly but surely creating a hole in the plaster, one flake at a time.

Every so often, the man would stop his work and look nervously at the door. Each time he stopped, the room would fall silent save for the sounds of the man's breathing, the inhaling and exhaling sounding like cannon blasts to the man's ears. When, after an appropriate amount of time had passed during each break without any response, the man would once again resume scratching at the wall.

Minute by minute, scratch by scratch the hole got larger and larger until, just as it reached three, the hole was apparently large enough for its intended purpose as the man stopped his routine and inspected his work. It was as he felt around he edge of the hole, that he noticed his hands.

"Fuck!"

The man cursed as he saw the bloodied, scratched and splintered stumps that were his fingers. The past few hours had not been kind on his poor hands. Shaking his head, the man continued to inspect the hole, he would have to worry about his hands later. Once he was finished, and deemed the hole suitable, he turned back to the room.

The room was small and square with a ceiling that sloped down to one side causing the man to stoop as he crossed over to the only piece of furniture, a small wire frame bed with a thin mattress that had provided the man little comfort during his stay. Grabbing the grubby grey sheet that had served as a blanket, the man tore two long strips from it, wrapping them around his hands. This done, the man gave a quick worried glance towards the door before returning to the hole.

Without looking back, the man entered the hole. It was a tight squeeze, the rough edges scratching and cutting as his skin as he pushed through, but he ignored the pain and was quickly on he other side.

Once through the hole, he found himself in the space between walls. It was narrow, hot, dusty and according to the tell tale droppings on the floor, infested by mice. Although barefoot, the man ignored the droppings, he had come too far now to care about a little dirty feet. Besides, he considered, droppings were the least of his problems.

Pushing on through the dark, confining space, dark thoughts filtered through his head as he began to wonder what on earth he was going to do next. For all he knew the hole he created was the only entrance to this space. Just as he began to think himself trapped, he noticed a small shimmer of light dancing on the floor ahead of him.

It was a vent.

Silently uttering a prayer to whichever God was watching over him, the man crouched down and began to crawl across the floor, this way at least he'd be able to see what was in the room before he tried to open it.

Reaching the vent, he peered into what seemed to be a deserted laundry room. Perfect.

Giving the panel a testing press with his palms, he found himself believing that he must have been the luckiest son of a bitch alive as the vent cover easily gave way giving him access to the room beyond.

Crawling into the room, he found himself once again giving a quick prayer to God as he used a washing machine to pull himself to his feet. Wishing that he could have a break, just for a second, he sighed. There was no time to stop, he wasn't free yet. He was out of the cell, but still not out of the prison.

Taking a quick look around the room, he soon found what he was looking for. A small, square window that resided just above a set of washing machines on the opposite side of the room.

Working quickly, unsure of how long he had until he was noticed missing, he crossed the room and looked outside. Though it was still dark, a cursory glance towards the horizon told him that dawn was soon approaching. If he was going to escape before the whole compound came to life it would have to be now.

Taking another quick look out the window, this time focusing on the ground two stories below, he noticed a large bank of virgin snow, both a blessing and a curse. Though it should aid in his escape, hopefully allowing him to safely jump from the window, it would make it easy for the guards to track him down once they noticed his escape. It also meant that it would be extremely cold outside, and with his bare feet and thin prison clothes, it wouldn't be long until he was freezing solid.

Unfortunately, it didn't look like he had much of a choice. Besides, he had come to far to give up now.

Sighing once again, the man climbed on top of the washing machine before quickly placing his weight against the window and pushing upwards. To begin with, the window wouldn't budge, not one inch. However, as Max continued to push with all his weight, he felt the window begin to budge.

Slowly and begrudgingly the window began to creak open, flakes of paint falling away to the surface of washing machine and dusting his feet with white. After about a minute of exertion, the window stood open and the man stood shivering, the cold wind hitting him instantly and quickly cutting to the bone.

For a moment, the man hesitated. However, the sound of a creak from somewhere in the building pushed him into action. For a brief moment the world seemed to stop as he leaped from the window. Suddenly, his world became dark and cold as he collided with the snow bank below. Sinking deep, the man was thankful that the snowfall over the last few days had been as heavy as it was.

Picking himself up, he shook as much snow from his clothing as he could before setting off. Keeping close to the walls, the man made his way around the compound until he approached the front gate. As he made his way around the final corner, he quickly dived into a snow bank to avoid being seen.

Compared to the rest of the compound, the front gate was alive with activity. Two men, both of them large, blond haired brutes by the looks of them, worked feverishly. Rapidly loading an old, battered, green pickup truck with turnips.

He continued to watch in silence as the two men finished loading the truck, one of them turning to the other as he closed the back.

"You go ahead and get into the truck, Hans. I'll join you in a minute. I just need to take a leak." Said one.

"Sure thing, Gruber," said the other. "Don't be too long, though."

"Hah, I wont, I know how much you hate to be alone in the dark." said Gruber.

Hans presented his 'friend' with a quick rude hand gesture before quickly opening the truck's passenger side door and stepping up into the cab, shutting the door firmly behind him. Gruber on the other hand, moved beyond the man in the snows sight, though the sound of a door opening and closing suggested he had entered the complex.

After a moment of silence pervading the air, the man looked up from the snow. The coast was clear, and it looked like he had just found his ticket out of the complex. Casting a quick glance around and seeing no one, he quickly approached the truck, staying as low to the ground as possible to avoid being seen by the man inside the cabin.

Without hesitation, the moment he reached the back of the truck he hauled himself over the back and quickly set about burying himself within the pile of turnips. Luck must have been shining down on him that day, because no sooner had he managed to finish hiding himself did a door to the nearby building open, close and a man - presumably Gruber - approached and entered the truck.

For a moment the sound of talking pervaded from the truck's cabin quickly followed by the sounds, smell and bone rattling vibrations of the engine starting and the truck moving off.

The man smiled, he was wet, tired, cold and his fingers hurt like hell, but he had managed to escape the prison.

The man frowned, for the past two days the truck had been travelling almost constantly, only stopping to refuel and swap who out of Hans and Gruber was driving. It was torture. The only food to eat was what little raw turnip he could bare to stomach and the only water to drink was the muddy rain water that collected on the base of the truck. It was disgusting, but it kept him alive.

However, he had decided enough was enough. After two days, he was certain he was far enough from the prison that he should be safe from recapture. He needed food, proper food, and clean water. Along with shoes, and clothes that could keep the cold away.

The next time the truck came to a stop, he took the opportunity to carefully jump ship. Hiding behind some nearby crates until the truck moved off and the sound of its engine faded away.

With the truck gone, the man left his hiding place and took the opportunity to investigate his surroundings. He was in a village, a rather small village. From a quick glance, four maybe six buildings at most. Surprisingly, although the sun was high in the sky, the village appeared deserted.

The man, curious about the empty village as he was, wasn't one to ignore a blessing and quickly made his way over towards the nearest building, quickly glancing through the windows. From what he could see, the building looked long abandoned. The previous occupants belongings lying all over the place, a thin layer of dust coating everything he laid eyes upon. Making his way over to the front door, a quick test of the handle found it unlocked and he made his way inside.

Instantly, he was hit with the smell of damp and decay, the place was definitely abandoned. Carefully, the man searched the house from top to bottom. It was a treasure trove.

By the time the man left the house, he was sporting a complete new set of clothing. It was mostly mismatched, and many of the pieces were the wrong size, including a pair of shoes which were at least three sizes too big. However, the shoes were easily fixed with some extra socks stuffed inside them, and the rest of the clothing was warm and dry. It wasn't perfect, but it would do until he found something better.

Searching the rest of the village didn't find him anything better to wear. However he did find three tins of food, a pen knife, an empty water flask and a map of what he assumed to be the local area. Not a bad haul, especially given the current circumstance.

Because the man was thorough with his search by the time was finished the sun was already well on it's way on it's journey to the horizon. The sight sent a shiver through his spine. Night time meant cold, it also meant increased dangers from wildlife. However, he couldn't chance staying in the village. He was certain that his guards would have noticed missing by now, and they probably wouldn't be far behinds. As much as he wanted to leave travelling till morning, he just couldn't risk it.

Still, he wasn't going to go into the wilds completely unprepared. Breaking out the map, he laid it out on top of the crates he used to hide earlier and scanned it for any key features. The map pictured multiple villages, each looking similar to the one he was in, so it was hard to locate his position exactly. However, to the north of all of the villages resided what appeared to be a rather large, and rather dense pine forest.

Interesting...

At the very least, the forest would provide him cover, not only from anyone chasing him but the worst of any snow storms. There was also the chance he'd be able to find more food and a fresh supply of water. With his destination decided, he folded up the map, made sure he had the rest of his belongings, checked the location of the sun, and set off towards the forest.

By the time the man approached the forest, it was already dark, the sun had passed the horizon about an hour previously and a crescent moon was gracing the sky. As he looked towards the edge of the treeline in the moonlight, a longing filled his eyes, he felt dreadfully exposed and couldn't wait to get himself hidden between the trees.

Still ten minutes away, he began to pick up the pace, his walk turning into a jog, such was his desperation to get to the forest as soon as possible. Unfortunately, the darkness made it hard to see any of the many animal holes that pitted the grasslands and soon the man went wheeling to the ground. Tripping as his foot got caught in a rabbit hole.

It was as he was picking himself up from the damp grass that he saw it.

A shooting star, bright as the sun.

Heading.

Straight.

For.

Him.

'Fuck!' The single thought filling his head as he scrambled to get a footing and sprint as fast as he could out of the falling meteor's path. The man ran full pelt in a random direction, not caring where he ended up as long as he lived.

After a few seconds of running, the 'meteor' hit the ground, exactly where he had been moments before, with a resounding crash. The shock wave tearing up the earth, sending dirt flying in every direction, and knocking him sprawling to the floor once again.

As the earth settled, and silence once again filled the air, the man finally felt it safe to get up and investigate. He knew the sound of the crash might attract unwanted attention, but he couldn't live with himself if he missed out on the once in a lifetime opportunity of finding an actual shooting star. And so, despite half of his body screaming at him to run away, as fast as he could, he tiptoed towards the still smoking 'meteor'.

He reached the edge of the crater just as a cloud drifted in front of the moon, plunging the area into total darkness for but a moment. As the cloud moved away, allowing the moon to once again illuminate the area, his breath caught in his throat as he took in the sight before him. He had expected to be seeing a lump of space rock, however what greeted him was something else entirely. Before him, lying in the bottom of the crater, was some sort of animal.

At first glance, the creature appeared to be some sort of very large bird, mangled wings clearly visible underneath the dirt. However, further looking at the creature showed it had four legs, each of which appeared to end with hooves, in addition to it's wings. So not a bird then. Well, whatever it was, the creature lay in a mangled heap.

A small, singular tear began to slide its way down the man's face as he beheld what lay before him. There was no way he could imagine any creature could have survived such a fall. Not from such great a height, nor at such great speeds. It was then, as he looked on at the creature in dumbfounded silence that something miraculous happened.

The creature moved.

It was a slight movement, barely recognizable, but the man was certain he had seen it. And if the creature was moving, it meant it was alive, and likely in tremendous amounts of pain.

The man rushed down the slope of the crater's edge, quickly reaching the animal, the sound of it's pained groans quickly filling his ears. It was definitely alive. And in pain. As he reached out towards the animal, it let out a guttural groan and kicked out towards him, clearly out of fear.

"Whoa there! I mean you no harm," he said in his calmest voice, the animals kicking and groaning stopping seemingly in response. "I just want to help you."

This time, as he reached out towards the animal, it lay still, not even reacting as his hand gently brushed against its side. He felt the animal's fur underneath his finger tips, it was sticky. Pulling his fingers back closer to his eyes to inspect them, he noticed they were covered in blood. Fresh blood. The animal was bleeding, a lot.

Sighing, the man considered the situation. Here he was standing next to a dying animal that had fallen from the sky, he wasn't exactly an expert at looking after an animal, especially not weird four legged flying ones, and his supposed pursuers had a giant smoking beacon towards his location.

He didn't know what to do. What he did know was that he couldn't just leave this animal to die. He also had to get moving as soon as possible. With a heavy heart, the man sighed, wrapped his arms around the animal and lifted it up. He would have to take it with him.

As he lifted the animal, he felt it stir and struggle against him.

"Easy now," he soothed the animal. "You're hurt, and I'm going to do the best I can to take care of you. But it's not safe here, we need to get going." As he set off, the man thought for a moment that he was going crazy, he could have sworn the animal nodded in response.

Underneath the treetop canopy, sat in a clearing perched on top of half rotting log, the man poked at a fire with a branch. The flickering flames casting a light that danced across his face, constantly altering which parts were in shadow and which were illuminated. The man's gaze however ignored the fire, instead focusing on the form which lay beyond, half cloaked in shadows.

After hauling the animal from the crater, he had carried it to this clearing in the middle of the forest. Lit a fire, and in the small amount of light it had provided, did his best to bandage and tend to the animal's wounds. It had proved to be an enlightening experience.

Firstly, he had learned that the animal was somewhat loosely related to horses. It had a muzzle, mane and tail, all of which appeared vaguely similar to the various equine he had encountered in his life. Secondly, he noticed it had a large horn extending from the crown of it's skull, like something out of a fairy tale. Thirdly, he also discovered that, regardless of what type of creature it was, it was female - having accidentally noticed the animals genitalia when cleaning up one of the animal's hind legs. The more he thought about it, the more remarkable the creature appeared.

The man was brought out of his brooding by the sounds of the creature's groaning. It seemed that she was waking up. Scrambling quickly to his feet, he made his way around the fire and gently knelt in front of her face. His hand automatically moving to stroke through her mane. As her eyes gently fluttered open, he noticed her looking around at her surroundings in confusion.

"Hey," he said in an attempt to reassure her. "You're in a forest, and you're safe now."

While he said it in an attempt to calm her down, he didn't expect to see a smile appearing on her muzzle. He also didn't expect what happened next.

"Thanks," she muttered, her voice dry and raspy.

The man's eyes went wide, he saw her lips part and he heard the voice, but he couldn't believe it had happened. Not for a moment.

"D-did you just say thanks?" he asked, convinced his imagination was just playing tricks on him.

"Yes," she nodded, "Of course I did, who else is here?."

The man suddenly froze, looking off into the trees, his mind working a mile a minute as he considered the creature's question. The first thought that passed through his head was that he was imagining the entire scenario, that the stress of prison had triggered some sort of delusion. It was a logical conclusion, however, he never did have much of an imagination. So, as much as he wished it to be a delusion, he doubted it very much. Besides, the blood that coated his hands and arms seemed far too real.

As such, under the assumption that everything that had happened and that this talking animal was real, he did the only thing that his brain considered rational. He turned to the animal and smiled and answered her question.

"No one," he answered.

"Exactly," she said, "Now, I'd hate to be a bother, but do you happen to have any water?" she asked.

"Certainly" the man replied, "Just, just wait here a moment."

"Heh, not as if I'm really capable of running off anywhere," she said as she watched the man walk over to the other side of the fire, retrieve something from on top of a log, and return. A flask clutched in his two, shaking hands.

"Here," he said as leaned down, unscrewing the top of the flask and holding it up to her lips. He continued to hold it there for her until she had drunk her fill. When she had finished drinking, the man screwed the top back on and placed the flask on the ground next to her.

"Thanks," she said, her voice a lot less raspy now. "I really needed that."

"You're welcome," he said. "So, how are you feeling?"

"A lot worse for wear, but I'll survive. Thanks to you." Her eyes sparkled in the flickering light of the fire as they filled with tears. "By the way, my name is Twilight Sparkle. I wonder if it would be okay, to know the name of my saviour?"

"Umm, yeah sure," the man said, as he placed a hand on one of her forehooves, giving it a little shake. "The name is Max, Max Bond."

A small smile forced it's way across Twilight's face.

"I thought you looked a bit like him," she said.