Sir Keir: Oh look, there’s a letter for you, darling.
Lady Starmer: A letter? (Opens it.) Ah yes, I’d been waiting for that. (She pulls out a £10 note.)
Sir Keir: A tenner? Who could that be from?
Lady Starmer: Oh, it’s from Angela Rayner. She bet me £10 you wouldn’t still be Prime Minister at Christmas.
The Kremlin.
Mrs Putin: Oh sit down, Vladimir, why don’t you?
Putin: Sit down? I can’t sit down!
Mrs Putin: Just relax and –
Putin: Relax? How can I relax at a time like this?
Mrs Putin: A time like this? But nothing is happening!
Putin: That’s just it- nothing is happening! That phone should be ringing!
Mrs Putin: And who should be calling?
Putin: Volodymyr Zelenskyy- he should be phoning me at any moment to surrender.
Mrs Putin: That’s what you said last year. And the year before. And the –
Putin: All right, all right….
Broccoli Mansions
BB: Merry Christmas, Michael. (Offers a cracker.)
MGW: Merry Christmas, Barbara. (Pulls the cracker. There is a “bang” followed by a few bars of the James Bond Theme.)
BB: Oh look, there’s a parcel for you.
MGW: That’s nice, let me see.
(He goes to open the parcel but his sister holds it away from him.)
BB: No, best be safe. Let’s call in some useless flunkeys to open it for us. Purvis! Wade!
(The door opens and two unemployed writers come in. Barbara gives them the parcel and they open it to be showered in soot and glitter, each and every piece emblazoned with the Amazon logo.)
MGW: Oh dear.
(Purvis and Wade leave sadly.)
BB: I expected that – I opened mine yesterday.
MGW: From Gregg?
BB: Yes, he still hasn’t forgiven us for selling our James Bond rights to Amazon.
MGW: He was so looking forward to inheriting that someday.
BB: You did promise him.
MGW: Well, I’m sure a billion will make it up to him.
“Ye’ll not be taking the car today, Mr James” said May as she put his coffee in front of him. It was more of an order than a suggestion, but James Bond had already looked out of the window and come to the same conclusion. Storm Goretti was hitting London hard, and driving anywhere would be a fool’s errand.
“You’re right, May”, said Bond, nodding his thanks. “The weather is terrible”.
He had more or less given up driving in London anyway. As with any major city the levels of congestion made it simpler and quicker to rely on some form of public transport – in his case he found a taxi most suited to his solitary nature. Though probably not the safest for an individual in his profession, he felt confident in his ability to handle anything that might turn up.
May bustled out of the room just as Bond’s phone rang. He looked down and wasn’t surprised at who was calling.
“Good morning, Moneypenny”, he said, “I was planning on being at the office in an hour or so anyway. You couldn’t resist dragging me in sooner, is that it?”
“Never, James”, her cool voice replied, “but you know I would have to resist doing just that on my own behalf. He wants to see you, and now. Chase whoever was in your bed last night away, put your clothes on, and get in here”.
“As ever, you wound me. There’s no-one here except my housekeeper. Perhaps you might care to come round tonight and we’ll discuss this in person?”
“Oh, you know that sounds wonderful but just get in here asap would you?”
She hung up. Bond ruefully pushed aside the temptations of May’s reliable breakfast and got up.
“Sit down, 007”, said M as Bond entered his office.
Bond did so and faced across the desk.
“Have you had a look at the papers this morning?” asked M. He had a small pile of them to his left.
“No, sir. I became inured to the headlines of “Oh God, what has he done now?” several months ago”.
M humphed. “Indeed, either that or assorted journalists advising Heads of State on what they should do now. Nevertheless, there is a situation which I have decided we should get involved in”.
“You’re sending me to Venezuela, sir?” asked Bond, wide-eyed.
“Oh good God, no. Not yet, anyway. You’ll have heard of Frederik the Tenth, of course”.
“Of course, sir. King of Denmark. His wife, the Queen, is Australian I believe”.
“She is. Denmark is a member of NATO, as you’ll know, and Australia is a leading member of the Commonwealth. We have friendly relations with both, and it is most definitely in our interests to ensure the continued survival of both the King and Queen”.
“Their survival? Has there been an assassination threat?”
“Not to our knowledge, at least not yet. They are about to take a trip and we feel that this trip carries a strong element of danger to them so I have asked that a member of our Service accompany them. An experienced operative, one with experience in similar situations”.
Bond had no doubt exactly who M was referring to.
“And where are they planning to go, sir?” he asked.
M sighed. “That’s why I asked if you had been reading the newspapers, 007. They are going to Greenland”.
“Greenland falls under the Crown of Denmark. Given, shall we say, certain recent developments, King Frederik has decided to pay a morale-boosting visit to a place called Pituffik”.
“There’s an air base there”, said Bond, “it used to be called Thule Air Base, and was jointly operated by the Danes and the Americans”.
“It is now called Pituffik Space Base, which was an idea of NASA that the Danes were not too happy about, and the Americans were not too happy about Denmark having joint authority over the site. The flags of both nations fly side by side and each of them would be only too happy to take the other’s flag down. However, best get on your way, 007. Miss Moneypenny will give you your tickets”.
King Frederik was a handsome, fit-looking man in his fifties. His wife, Queen Mary, was a few years younger and still a striking woman. He spoke English well.
“Welcome, Commander Bond. I had not asked for a bodyguard but am pleased to see you nonetheless”.
“An honour to meet you, Your Majesty”, said Bond. “I must ask, though, is it a good idea for you to go to Greenland at this time?”
“It might be considered a response. The US Vice President went there last year for much the same purposes, which did not go down too well with the locals”.
The Queen laughed. “Signs saying “Go home Vance” and the like greeted him from the moment his plane landed”.
Her Australian accent had mellowed with the years into a pleasant twang as she smiled at Bond.
“Still, he was surrounded by armed American Secret Service and Army or Air Force officers everywhere he went”, said Bond. “As I understand it, you have been offered similar levels of security but have refused them. My Chief had to do a lot of talking to get you to accept one man, me”.
Both of them smiled. “Things are done differently here in Scandinavia, Commander Bond”, said The Queen, “we do not have legions of security men following us wherever we go like the American presidents do”.
“However, your reputation has reached even Denmark, Commander”, said The King, “we Royals chatter as much as anyone else. It would have been impolite for us to refuse your services”.
An official walked briskly up and murmured a few words in The King’s ear. He nodded and turned to both his Queen and Bond.
“The plane is ready. Time for us to go”.
The flight was uneventful, and the accommodations naturally first class. The Royals fell asleep shortly following a light meal, and Bond started to feel drowsy soon afterwards. As his eyes began to close, he found himself staring out of the window at the sea far below. Once he thought he saw a ship, a large ship to be visible at this this altitude, perhaps a tanker and probably he imagined seeing helicopters circling it. There were smaller ships not far away, seemingly heading towards the tanker. Must just be the height, he thought, some form of optical illusion, as his eyes shut.
The city of Nuuk is Greenland’s largest town and capital, with a population of under 20,000. It seemed to Bond that most of them were attending the arrival of the plane carrying their Royals as they landed at Nuuk Airport to cheering crowds who were shouting happily and carrying large photographs or paintings of one, other, or both of The King and Queen who delightedly walked along the line from the plane to the terminal building shaking hands and occasionally kissing the public. Bond began to understand why security was not such an overwhelming obsession in the Scandinavian countries as it was elsewhere.
It was cold, but not covered with ice as he had expected. Inside the building they met with local officials, Bond dallying discreetly in the background. From his limited understanding of the language, it seemed that they had been invited to a dinner that evening, but King Frederik extremely courteously said that they regretted that they would be unable to attend since they had to head on to Pituffik once their plane had been refuelled. A security matter, he hoped they understood. The officials were dismayed but smiled sadly. Yes, they understood. They had read the newspapers.
Once on board the plane, King Frederik explained to Bond what he hadn’t managed to pick up from the conversation.
“They would have been very pleased if you had accepted, sir”, said Bond.
The King sighed. “I know, and I intend to come back here once the current unfortunate situation is over. For now, it is more urgent that I visit Pituffik. That is where their man Vance went, and that is where I have to go”.
Greenland is a huge island, the largest in the world although not as large as the Mercator projection would have one believe, and the Royals and Bond all took the opportunity to once again fall asleep as they headed for Pituffik.
The runway had been cleared from the tall flights of snow, and Bond supposed it must be a constant job to keep the snow low enough for a plane to land and the ice clear enough to make it safe to do so. This was a military airport rather than a civil one and there was no pretence at ceremony apart from the formal dress the senior Danish officers were clad in as the Royals came down from the plane.
Now it was truly cold, the wind biting into them despite the warm garments they were now wearing. The crowds here were understandably only in the dozens, but their cheering was no less enthusiastic. A few Americans stood silently though expectantly, it seemed. The King drew Bond to one side.
“As you see, Commander, my wife and I are surrounded by loyal Danish officers and men here. Their faithfulness is not in question. I believe that we will be safe here, and your services will not be necessary”.
Bond tried to speak, but King Frederik held up a hand.
“I am grateful to your Chief for sending you, and I will meet up with you again back in Nuuk but here it would send out entirely the wrong message if I were to be escorted by a foreigner. No arguments. Now, for the moment, I will say farewell”.
He held out his hand which Bond reluctantly shook.
“Thank you again, now take my plane back to Nuuk and remain there”.
He turned back to join his Queen and the officers. Bond saw no other option but to reboard the plane and wait until it was ready to leave again. He didn’t think he would fall asleep on the return flight.
As it happened he had barely taken his seat when his phone gave out the piercing sound reserved for immediate attention, as tested regularly by the British Government. There was no test scheduled and he wasn’t even in Britain and his eyes narrowed as he read the message which had been sent. It couldn’t be serious…? But yes, he decided, these days of course it could. He ran to the flight deck and spoke quickly with the pilots. Like most Continentals their English was perfect but it took a lot of convincing to make them disobey their orders, keep the plane right where it was, and send for the boarding stairs.
The King and Queen had just finished being warmly welcomed as Bond walked up to them. Walked, not ran. It would have been very easy for one of the many armed men to overreact. King Frederik looked startled as Bond appeared in front of him.
“Your Majesty, I must speak with you immediately. I apologize for the interruption but it is most serious”.
The King took Bond’s arm and led him quickly to one side where they spoke in low, urgent tones. Queen Mary looked over at them in concern but the talk was brief before King Frederik beckoned for the leader of the Danish military, looking resplendent in his formal attire.
“Colonel, the Queen and I must get back on our plane and leave with no delay. I want you to order your men to encircle us as we do and if anyone tries to prevent us leaving they are to shoot”.
The Danish Colonel was startled. This was the last thing he had expected in this peaceful outpost. Clearly, thought Bond and not for the first time, he had not been reading the newspapers.
“But, Your Majesty, I –“
“You heard me. Shoot to kill”.
With that, the King walked over and took his wife by the hand, murmuring a few words in her ear. They started walking back to their plane, the Danish military taking up positions around them and Bond.
The leader of the American contingent stood stunned, in confusion. This was not the situation he had been expecting. He began to shout orders at his men but instantly the Danes pointed their weapons while marching, making it absolutely clear what anyone who disrupted them should be prepared for. The American leader decided that his orders had not expressly included assassinating the Heads of State of a friendly country, and stood down while the Royal party entered their plane. The boarding stairs were instantly removed and the plane took off.
Bond had been in the cockpit with the pilots until they were safely clear and in the air heading away. He returned to his seat, opposite the Danish King and Queen.
“All right, Commander Bond”, said King Frederik, “we have done as you asked. Now, please tell us everything you can”.
“I’ll show you, sir”, said Bond, handing over his phone. The Royals bent over it, their breath quickening as they read the message from London.
“But surely they wouldn’t … he wouldn’t …” Queen Mary stuttered as she gazed over at Bond.
“Look out of your window, please, Your Majesties”, said Bond, “it’s about the right time now”.
Shocked, they looked out. About six or eight large helicopters were passing below them heading for Pituffik. Slowly, both of them turned back and looked at Bond. The King kept his voice under control.
“I see we owe you a great deal, Commander Bond. What is our next step?”
“I’ve been speaking with the pilots. We have enough fuel to take us off Greenland, and therefore off Danish territory, to Canada. I’ve asked them to land at Gander Airport. We can formally contact the Canadian authorities there, although I’m about to ask my Chief to get them prepared”.
He inwardly smiled at pleasant memories of landing at Gander many years ago. What was that girl’s name again? It would come back to him,
“And will we be safe in Canada?” Queen Mary asked.
Bond looked at her sadly. “I don’t know if anybody is safe anywhere today”.
Comments
You should have left it in 😂🤣
On the 12th Day of Christmas Miss Moneypenny sent to me…
12 Blofelds dancing
11 Cars a-spinning
10 Rogers crooning
9 Pussys flying
8 Tims a-weeping
7 Daniels laughing
6 Shirleys singing
5 Golden Guns
4 Little Nellies
3 Qs inventing
2 Pierces shooting
And James Bond wearing a kilt
Fabulous 😁😂🤣🍸🎄
Love it 🤣🤣
Glad you liked that, guys, it was fun.
Takes some singing 🎶
Quite right, unless you're in a choir.
CHRISTMAS AROUND THE WORLD
The White House.
Trump: Merry Christmas, Melania.
Mrs Trump: Drop dead, you evil excuse for a man.
Trump: Oh you know I love it when you talk dirty.
10 Downing Street
Sir Keir: Oh look, there’s a letter for you, darling.
Lady Starmer: A letter? (Opens it.) Ah yes, I’d been waiting for that. (She pulls out a £10 note.)
Sir Keir: A tenner? Who could that be from?
Lady Starmer: Oh, it’s from Angela Rayner. She bet me £10 you wouldn’t still be Prime Minister at Christmas.
The Kremlin.
Mrs Putin: Oh sit down, Vladimir, why don’t you?
Putin: Sit down? I can’t sit down!
Mrs Putin: Just relax and –
Putin: Relax? How can I relax at a time like this?
Mrs Putin: A time like this? But nothing is happening!
Putin: That’s just it- nothing is happening! That phone should be ringing!
Mrs Putin: And who should be calling?
Putin: Volodymyr Zelenskyy- he should be phoning me at any moment to surrender.
Mrs Putin: That’s what you said last year. And the year before. And the –
Putin: All right, all right….
Broccoli Mansions
BB: Merry Christmas, Michael. (Offers a cracker.)
MGW: Merry Christmas, Barbara. (Pulls the cracker. There is a “bang” followed by a few bars of the James Bond Theme.)
BB: Oh look, there’s a parcel for you.
MGW: That’s nice, let me see.
(He goes to open the parcel but his sister holds it away from him.)
BB: No, best be safe. Let’s call in some useless flunkeys to open it for us. Purvis! Wade!
(The door opens and two unemployed writers come in. Barbara gives them the parcel and they open it to be showered in soot and glitter, each and every piece emblazoned with the Amazon logo.)
MGW: Oh dear.
(Purvis and Wade leave sadly.)
BB: I expected that – I opened mine yesterday.
MGW: From Gregg?
BB: Yes, he still hasn’t forgiven us for selling our James Bond rights to Amazon.
MGW: He was so looking forward to inheriting that someday.
BB: You did promise him.
MGW: Well, I’m sure a billion will make it up to him.
BB: Half a billion, Michael, half.
MGW: Oh yes. Half...
Illustrations by Number 24.
😂
Very good 😂
I'm going to mention this now so I don't forget later. I'm working on a new story based on a suggestion from @Number24
Oohhh…the muse is striking again 👏🏻
God, what have i done now ...😉
OH GOD, WHAT HAS HE DONE NOW?
January 2026
London
“Ye’ll not be taking the car today, Mr James” said May as she put his coffee in front of him. It was more of an order than a suggestion, but James Bond had already looked out of the window and come to the same conclusion. Storm Goretti was hitting London hard, and driving anywhere would be a fool’s errand.
“You’re right, May”, said Bond, nodding his thanks. “The weather is terrible”.
He had more or less given up driving in London anyway. As with any major city the levels of congestion made it simpler and quicker to rely on some form of public transport – in his case he found a taxi most suited to his solitary nature. Though probably not the safest for an individual in his profession, he felt confident in his ability to handle anything that might turn up.
May bustled out of the room just as Bond’s phone rang. He looked down and wasn’t surprised at who was calling.
“Good morning, Moneypenny”, he said, “I was planning on being at the office in an hour or so anyway. You couldn’t resist dragging me in sooner, is that it?”
“Never, James”, her cool voice replied, “but you know I would have to resist doing just that on my own behalf. He wants to see you, and now. Chase whoever was in your bed last night away, put your clothes on, and get in here”.
“As ever, you wound me. There’s no-one here except my housekeeper. Perhaps you might care to come round tonight and we’ll discuss this in person?”
“Oh, you know that sounds wonderful but just get in here asap would you?”
She hung up. Bond ruefully pushed aside the temptations of May’s reliable breakfast and got up.
“Sit down, 007”, said M as Bond entered his office.
Bond did so and faced across the desk.
“Have you had a look at the papers this morning?” asked M. He had a small pile of them to his left.
“No, sir. I became inured to the headlines of “Oh God, what has he done now?” several months ago”.
M humphed. “Indeed, either that or assorted journalists advising Heads of State on what they should do now. Nevertheless, there is a situation which I have decided we should get involved in”.
“You’re sending me to Venezuela, sir?” asked Bond, wide-eyed.
“Oh good God, no. Not yet, anyway. You’ll have heard of Frederik the Tenth, of course”.
“Of course, sir. King of Denmark. His wife, the Queen, is Australian I believe”.
“She is. Denmark is a member of NATO, as you’ll know, and Australia is a leading member of the Commonwealth. We have friendly relations with both, and it is most definitely in our interests to ensure the continued survival of both the King and Queen”.
“Their survival? Has there been an assassination threat?”
“Not to our knowledge, at least not yet. They are about to take a trip and we feel that this trip carries a strong element of danger to them so I have asked that a member of our Service accompany them. An experienced operative, one with experience in similar situations”.
Bond had no doubt exactly who M was referring to.
“And where are they planning to go, sir?” he asked.
M sighed. “That’s why I asked if you had been reading the newspapers, 007. They are going to Greenland”.
To Be Continued
Very good 👏 This is what the phrase “Bang up to date” was coined for 😁
I can barely wait!
Lovely start 😁
Thank you very much, gentlemen, there will be more soon.
Chapter Two
“Greenland? But surely – “
“Greenland falls under the Crown of Denmark. Given, shall we say, certain recent developments, King Frederik has decided to pay a morale-boosting visit to a place called Pituffik”.
“There’s an air base there”, said Bond, “it used to be called Thule Air Base, and was jointly operated by the Danes and the Americans”.
“It is now called Pituffik Space Base, which was an idea of NASA that the Danes were not too happy about, and the Americans were not too happy about Denmark having joint authority over the site. The flags of both nations fly side by side and each of them would be only too happy to take the other’s flag down. However, best get on your way, 007. Miss Moneypenny will give you your tickets”.
King Frederik was a handsome, fit-looking man in his fifties. His wife, Queen Mary, was a few years younger and still a striking woman. He spoke English well.
“Welcome, Commander Bond. I had not asked for a bodyguard but am pleased to see you nonetheless”.
“An honour to meet you, Your Majesty”, said Bond. “I must ask, though, is it a good idea for you to go to Greenland at this time?”
“It might be considered a response. The US Vice President went there last year for much the same purposes, which did not go down too well with the locals”.
The Queen laughed. “Signs saying “Go home Vance” and the like greeted him from the moment his plane landed”.
Her Australian accent had mellowed with the years into a pleasant twang as she smiled at Bond.
“Still, he was surrounded by armed American Secret Service and Army or Air Force officers everywhere he went”, said Bond. “As I understand it, you have been offered similar levels of security but have refused them. My Chief had to do a lot of talking to get you to accept one man, me”.
Both of them smiled. “Things are done differently here in Scandinavia, Commander Bond”, said The Queen, “we do not have legions of security men following us wherever we go like the American presidents do”.
“However, your reputation has reached even Denmark, Commander”, said The King, “we Royals chatter as much as anyone else. It would have been impolite for us to refuse your services”.
An official walked briskly up and murmured a few words in The King’s ear. He nodded and turned to both his Queen and Bond.
“The plane is ready. Time for us to go”.
The flight was uneventful, and the accommodations naturally first class. The Royals fell asleep shortly following a light meal, and Bond started to feel drowsy soon afterwards. As his eyes began to close, he found himself staring out of the window at the sea far below. Once he thought he saw a ship, a large ship to be visible at this this altitude, perhaps a tanker and probably he imagined seeing helicopters circling it. There were smaller ships not far away, seemingly heading towards the tanker. Must just be the height, he thought, some form of optical illusion, as his eyes shut.
The city of Nuuk is Greenland’s largest town and capital, with a population of under 20,000. It seemed to Bond that most of them were attending the arrival of the plane carrying their Royals as they landed at Nuuk Airport to cheering crowds who were shouting happily and carrying large photographs or paintings of one, other, or both of The King and Queen who delightedly walked along the line from the plane to the terminal building shaking hands and occasionally kissing the public. Bond began to understand why security was not such an overwhelming obsession in the Scandinavian countries as it was elsewhere.
It was cold, but not covered with ice as he had expected. Inside the building they met with local officials, Bond dallying discreetly in the background. From his limited understanding of the language, it seemed that they had been invited to a dinner that evening, but King Frederik extremely courteously said that they regretted that they would be unable to attend since they had to head on to Pituffik once their plane had been refuelled. A security matter, he hoped they understood. The officials were dismayed but smiled sadly. Yes, they understood. They had read the newspapers.
Once on board the plane, King Frederik explained to Bond what he hadn’t managed to pick up from the conversation.
“They would have been very pleased if you had accepted, sir”, said Bond.
The King sighed. “I know, and I intend to come back here once the current unfortunate situation is over. For now, it is more urgent that I visit Pituffik. That is where their man Vance went, and that is where I have to go”.
Greenland is a huge island, the largest in the world although not as large as the Mercator projection would have one believe, and the Royals and Bond all took the opportunity to once again fall asleep as they headed for Pituffik.
To Be Continued
Finally an Arctic adventure for Bond!
Excellent - more, please!
Thanks guys, and yes more soon.
Another good story that’s building nicely 😁
Glad you're enjoying it, Sir Miles.
Chapter Three
The runway had been cleared from the tall flights of snow, and Bond supposed it must be a constant job to keep the snow low enough for a plane to land and the ice clear enough to make it safe to do so. This was a military airport rather than a civil one and there was no pretence at ceremony apart from the formal dress the senior Danish officers were clad in as the Royals came down from the plane.
Now it was truly cold, the wind biting into them despite the warm garments they were now wearing. The crowds here were understandably only in the dozens, but their cheering was no less enthusiastic. A few Americans stood silently though expectantly, it seemed. The King drew Bond to one side.
“As you see, Commander, my wife and I are surrounded by loyal Danish officers and men here. Their faithfulness is not in question. I believe that we will be safe here, and your services will not be necessary”.
Bond tried to speak, but King Frederik held up a hand.
“I am grateful to your Chief for sending you, and I will meet up with you again back in Nuuk but here it would send out entirely the wrong message if I were to be escorted by a foreigner. No arguments. Now, for the moment, I will say farewell”.
He held out his hand which Bond reluctantly shook.
“Thank you again, now take my plane back to Nuuk and remain there”.
He turned back to join his Queen and the officers. Bond saw no other option but to reboard the plane and wait until it was ready to leave again. He didn’t think he would fall asleep on the return flight.
As it happened he had barely taken his seat when his phone gave out the piercing sound reserved for immediate attention, as tested regularly by the British Government. There was no test scheduled and he wasn’t even in Britain and his eyes narrowed as he read the message which had been sent. It couldn’t be serious…? But yes, he decided, these days of course it could. He ran to the flight deck and spoke quickly with the pilots. Like most Continentals their English was perfect but it took a lot of convincing to make them disobey their orders, keep the plane right where it was, and send for the boarding stairs.
The King and Queen had just finished being warmly welcomed as Bond walked up to them. Walked, not ran. It would have been very easy for one of the many armed men to overreact. King Frederik looked startled as Bond appeared in front of him.
“Your Majesty, I must speak with you immediately. I apologize for the interruption but it is most serious”.
The King took Bond’s arm and led him quickly to one side where they spoke in low, urgent tones. Queen Mary looked over at them in concern but the talk was brief before King Frederik beckoned for the leader of the Danish military, looking resplendent in his formal attire.
“Colonel, the Queen and I must get back on our plane and leave with no delay. I want you to order your men to encircle us as we do and if anyone tries to prevent us leaving they are to shoot”.
The Danish Colonel was startled. This was the last thing he had expected in this peaceful outpost. Clearly, thought Bond and not for the first time, he had not been reading the newspapers.
“But, Your Majesty, I –“
“You heard me. Shoot to kill”.
With that, the King walked over and took his wife by the hand, murmuring a few words in her ear. They started walking back to their plane, the Danish military taking up positions around them and Bond.
The leader of the American contingent stood stunned, in confusion. This was not the situation he had been expecting. He began to shout orders at his men but instantly the Danes pointed their weapons while marching, making it absolutely clear what anyone who disrupted them should be prepared for. The American leader decided that his orders had not expressly included assassinating the Heads of State of a friendly country, and stood down while the Royal party entered their plane. The boarding stairs were instantly removed and the plane took off.
Bond had been in the cockpit with the pilots until they were safely clear and in the air heading away. He returned to his seat, opposite the Danish King and Queen.
“All right, Commander Bond”, said King Frederik, “we have done as you asked. Now, please tell us everything you can”.
“I’ll show you, sir”, said Bond, handing over his phone. The Royals bent over it, their breath quickening as they read the message from London.
“But surely they wouldn’t … he wouldn’t …” Queen Mary stuttered as she gazed over at Bond.
“Look out of your window, please, Your Majesties”, said Bond, “it’s about the right time now”.
Shocked, they looked out. About six or eight large helicopters were passing below them heading for Pituffik. Slowly, both of them turned back and looked at Bond. The King kept his voice under control.
“I see we owe you a great deal, Commander Bond. What is our next step?”
“I’ve been speaking with the pilots. We have enough fuel to take us off Greenland, and therefore off Danish territory, to Canada. I’ve asked them to land at Gander Airport. We can formally contact the Canadian authorities there, although I’m about to ask my Chief to get them prepared”.
He inwardly smiled at pleasant memories of landing at Gander many years ago. What was that girl’s name again? It would come back to him,
“And will we be safe in Canada?” Queen Mary asked.
Bond looked at her sadly. “I don’t know if anybody is safe anywhere today”.
The End
👍