The Hunter's Game

The Hunter's Game
By: Cedric(006)
Based somewhat on Richard Connell's "The Most Dangerous Game"

"Off there and to the right, somewhere, is a very bantam isle. Our government looks at it is rather a mystery......." stated M. He looked rather pale as the anorexic moon shinned down brightly through the substantial amount of fog. The dank palpable tropical night pressed its thick, cool blackness upon the yacht creating an aurora through the spectacles on M's face. The fog seemed to be advancing from the isle itself.

"Can you see it?" questioned M.

"Not yet. This bloody fog is very atrocious! Ugh! It's like a moist black velvet!" Bond was centering all of his senses on sensing the mysterious isle.

"Well, as you should know, it contains some of the best sport in the world; however, recently many bizarre


Bond and M aboard the MI6 Yacht

Bond and M aboard the MI6 Yacht

disappearances have been occurring these past few months. When the her majesty's troops could not find a damn thing, they turned to us. Naturally, we sent Operative 003 to investigate."

"But of course," 007 James Bond assumed. "Best game, you say? Yes well, for the hunter, not the hunted."

"Oh pipe down 007! And don't talk rot! You're, in a sense, a big game hunter. Who cares how the "hunted" feels," quipped M. "Anyhow...."

"Perhaps the 'hunted' do" observed Bond.

"Do you want this assignment or not? Then pipe down! As I was saying, that isle has a reputation......a bad one. Cannibals, they say, flood the entire isle. I ought not why! The isle is such a God forsaken place. But, its gotten into the governments lore, and they want an investigation.

The air about Bond seemed to suddenly get poisonous. He wondered if M too felt the sudden chill. It seemed it truly was poisonous, as it now was about them both. "Approaching the isle to the left, M. In proper precautions, we have knock out all communication in and off the isle in a fifty mile radius. We have also gone into stand-by mode for the time being," cited Bill Tanner, M's assistant.

"Good," crowed M. "It's time for your departure 007. Good luck!"

"No special gadgets this time then?"

"It's just the hunted , remember 007." And with that, a green light flashed, and 007 leaped into the icy waters.

Chapter 1 - A Warm Welcoming in the Icy Waters

The drifting MI6 yacht sprayed little salt water and Bond drifting silently and swiftly through the waters, tearing away at the welcoming current that glided him to shore. As the current dangerously switched directions, Bond found himself overtaken by the tremendous power of the waves. That's odd, Bond thought. The waves had been like a baby in a cradle a moment ago. Bond was tossed helplessly into the plunging icy water, as if someone or something was controlling it. The moon was so dim, Bond and his Oxford degree knew that it would not have this tremendous effect.

Trying to regain his sense of sight, Bond got glimpses of his surroundings. One peculiar thing caught his eyes: the jagged outline of sharp rocks. Bond now frantically fought the current, but it was no use. As he approached the rocks, he thought of Monneypenny and Tracy. Meters away form the rocks, the current slowed, and again it switched. Now is gently lead him to the welcoming arms of the sandy beaches. He knew he had to find cover fast. As he got up, a gun shot startled him. It was faint, but Bond knew the sound all to well. Pistol shot. A Colt Single Action Army handgun, of an American decent. Odd, he thought, as he covered himself beneath the safety and sanity of the underbrush.

Chapter 2 - Cossack

When he opened his eyes he knew from the position of the sun it was late afternoon. The well-needed rest had given him vigor, but also a sharp sensation of hunger. Thinking, he remembered the gun shots from the


The weakened Bond

The weakened Bond

previous night. Where there are pistol shots, there is men. Where there is men, there is food.

But what kind of men he wondered?

Then, as if a lightning bolt had struck, James Bond heard a terrifying sound. It pierced his ears like a bullet. Out of the darkness, 007 heard a high-pitched animal screech: the sound of an animal (or someone) in anguish. Bond quickly changed out of his diving suit, and went into the peering Jungle indolently. Last nights encounter with death had deeply weakened his stamina.

The Jungle was dark and thick. It was a web of weeds, debris, and trees; undoubtedly, Bond knew he had to find food and set up shelter. But as he approached an underbrush, the wind about him picked up so fierce, Bond was thrown into oblivion. That was until he was barraged onto a tree trunk, and the night engulfed him, and the Cossack approached..................

Chapter 3 - A Most restful Spot

Bond stirred, fighting a mystical force in the shroud of darkness. Then, light. Bond sat up, only to find himself a most cultivated room of extravagance. There he lay, under the sheets (a little too tight, he might add) of a huge, four-poster bed. The room too was of thee enormous type: A beam-ceilinged bedroom, a two story dresser of the finest wood, and of course, the immense bed whopping enough for ten men. Bond reached for his gun in his holder at his side, but there was nothing! Nothing but the finest silk Bond had ever touched. And he has had his experiences with silk.

"Your evening suit is in the dresser Mr. Bond." said an equally soft and charming voice. It had strains of Russian aristocratic background. Bond looked up to see a tall man near middle age, for his hair was jet black, but it had a faint trace of gray. He had thick eyebrows, clean shaven, and his eyes were quite sharp. He wore a magnificent black tuxedo. Behind him stood a 5 10'' or so body guard with blond hair and scars about his face. He wore an all black attire. The Cossack Bond had last saw approaching him was the body guard.

"Where am I?" questioned Bond.

"At home, my dear friend." explained said the Russian. "Forgive me. My name is Anton Zarkov, however, you may call me Anton. This is my assistant Alexandr. He was the one who found you after you collapsed in the jungle. That is no place for a...........?"

"Ornithologist, Mr. Zarkov. I am here on.........."

"Now, now. We have so much to discuss over....What are we having Alexandr?

"Some cocktails, borsch, and the finest champagne we have. Dom Perignon '53, of course," quipped Alexandr

"Ah, I prefer the the 55' myself." Bond stated

"Not what the Doctor said. Now change, and Alexandr will show you to the dinning hall," insisted Anton. "We are a most restful spot!"

Chapter 4 - Workers of the World

The dinning hall to which Alexandr conducted him was remarkable. The room was furnished in a middle age type. The medieval decor was no surprise to Bond in such a God-forsaken isle. It had high ceiling, vast


Mr. Zarcov

Mr. Zarcov

refectory table, and mounted heads of lions, Bengal tigers, elephants, moose, and bears - larger than Bond had ever seen! Seated at the end of the long table was Anton, who had changed into a Soviet general-type uniform.

"Part of the Russian army Mr. Zarcov?" instated Bond.

"No. My father was a foolish man who thought he could do the Soviet Union a favor by joining. Ha! He was dead within the first two months of the war! I only wear this as a symbolic pledge to "Workers of the World". We are trying to unite them you know?" stated Zarcov.

"Yes. These cocktails are marvelous Mr. Zarcov. I'm so much interested in this isle though. There are reports stated of mysterious disappearances. And cannibals."

The Soviet looked at Bond. His glamorous smile and looks disappeared almost instantly. Then he spoke, "I have been here for many years. Never have I seen nor heard any such things. I....."

"This place does seem to have some wicked weather. It's almost as if someone wishes to keep one away." added Bond.

"We do our best to preserve the amenities of civilization here on this wretched island. Please forgive any such lapses. We are such off the course of land. When I first moved here 12 years ago, this place was a wreak. Soviet and the European Union have qurrreled on it for years. I know that after many attempts by the Soviet government, that they have long given up. But the EU has not. They continue to try and interupt the wildlife and civilization here. I am also certain that you Mr. Bond are no Ornithologist nor are you here to study the birds. No. You are a member of the British Secret Service like your previous friend, 004?" At that he light a pipe and looked questionaly at 007.

"003, not 4. Again, I am here to study the birds nothing more, and I think the West Indies could argue that point." argued Bond.

"But of course. Well then, like most curious humans you probably are most curious about the percuilar weather we have here. Come." And at that the Soviet rose, and a panal behind him opened, and Bond followed.

■ To Be Continued ■

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