Author: bleauchamp

"Sit down, Number Two. Number Seven will carry out his reports." Blofeld said, his voice flat and toneless. 13 people were seated at a large table, with only numbers to identify themselves. At the head was Blofeld. Sitting next to him on his right was Fiona Volpe, head of SPECTRE's Execution Branch. Behind her, Red Grant stood.

"Everything is going as planned. Soon James Bond will be dead, and SPECTRE will be a world power. I corrrect myself: the world power. By next month, Britain will be the poorest country in the world, America will be considered masss murderers, and Russia will be our puppet. China will be all but swept off the face of the earth," Number Seven, Veta Kursh, reported.

"And what of North Korea? Australia?" Number 2, Emilio Largo questioned. Veta Kursh laughed.


"North Korea's citizens will be immigrating to other countries in terror, and the puny continent that is now Australia shall be sunk deeper than Titanic," Veta Kursh finished.

"Operation Max-out shall not fail! Report for duty, all of you. On the arranged time we will meet at the arranged place to watch the fireworks," Blofeld said, obsessively stroking his cat. "For now... we shall continue with our various activities as if nothing is about to happen. And nothing is right now. But soon. Soon the world will at last be in our grasp."


"James, why do you have to go?" A lady in a red dressing gown asked as she lay in bed. Bond poured another glass of champagne for her.

"Britain calls, darling," he smirked, taking another swig of his vodka martini (shaken, not stirred.)

"Britain, ha! Welcome to Russia, James. Britain is so far away from Murmansk," she said in a sad voice. "I do not know how you drink that repulsive drink!"

"Veta, Veta, Veta. What would I do without you?" Bond said. His wristwatch beeped and 007 walked out the door and skiied away. Veta Kursh brought out a small walkie-talkie from her purse.

"Hello! This is SPECTRE Number Seven speaking! He's on the move, repeat, he's on the move! Send in Mr. Wint and Mr. Kidd immediately."

"Will do," Col. Rosa Klebb answered on her walkie-talkie.