Chapter 3

Leaving the tranquil suburbs behind, James felt an urgent need to reach the airport, the realization of the considerable distance to Montenegro weighing heavily on him. Swiftly, he made the decision to park his car at the airport and ascended the grand staircase, determined to embark on his journey.

After navigating through stringent security checks, he entered the luxurious private plane arranged by MI6. The 6-hour flight had taken its toll, and Bond eagerly boarded the Pendolino train to Montenegro, settling into the plush seats reserved for him. It wasn't long before a woman, elegantly dressed in a sleek black ensemble with a petite purse, approached his seat.

"I'm the money," she declared.

Bond gave her a measured look and replied, "Every penny of it."

Vesper handed him a card with official details:

[Financial Action Task Force]

[HM Treasury]

[Vesper Lynd]

[International liaison officer]

"Vesper," he read, "I'm sure you gave your parents a hard time with that name."

At that moment, a waiter arrived, presenting Vesper with the menu. She acknowledged the waiter with a nod and politely said, "Thank you."

"Your superior seems to have some impressive connections," she noted while scanning the menu. "I've never seen such financial flow before."

"And executed with exceptional finesse," Bond added. "May I ask why?"

"10 million has been transferred to your Montenegro account," Vesper stated, "with a possibility for an additional 5 million if deemed necessary."

"I assume you've considered the implications of a loss in this game potentially involving our government in funding terrorism," Vesper contemplated, her gaze unwavering.

Vesper glanced at the menu again and asked, "What do you think looks appealing?"

After their meal, Vesper inquired, "So, are you telling me it's merely a game of probabilities? I was concerned that chance might play a role."

"Well, only if you believe that the player with the best hand is the winner," Bond responded, pouring more wine into Vesper's glass.

Vesper rested her chin on her palm and remarked, "So, that's what you call bluffing."

Bond grinned, placed the wine bottle down, and stated, "You've heard the term. In poker, it's not just about the hand; it's about the person sitting across from you."

"Are you skilled at reading people?" Vesper inquired.

With a touch of arrogance, James answered, "Yes, I am. That's why I detected an undercurrent of sarcasm in your voice."

"Then I'm confident that our finances are in capable hands," Vesper said with a knowing smile.

"You don't think this is a good plan, do you?" James questioned, sipping his glass of wine.

"So there is a plan. I was under the impression that we were risking millions of dollars and hundreds of lives on a game of luck. What more can you surmise, Mr. Bond?" She questioned, her eyes becoming teary.

"About you, Mrs. Lynd? Well, your beauty can be a double-edged sword. You fear that you won't be taken seriously."

"That's a common concern for any attractive woman with intelligence," she said.

"True," Bond agreed. "But you seem to compensate by dressing slightly more masculine, behaving somewhat more assertively than your female colleagues, which gives you a somewhat prickly demeanor. Ironically, it might hinder your acceptance and promotion by your male superiors. As for your family, your lack of emotion when mentioning your parents suggests you might have grown up without them, possibly as an orphan," James surmised.

Vesper stared at him for a few moments and finally said, "Alright, based on the cut of your suit, you likely attended a prestigious university like Oxford, but you wear it with disdain, implying you didn't come from money. Your school friends probably reminded you of that, leading to the chip on your shoulder. It's possible you received a scholarship or aid to attend, which might explain your strong sense of self-reliance. As for my orphan assumption, I see you've had a challenging upbringing."

She continued after a moment, "You're part of MI6, and it makes sense for someone like you, who appears to come from a modest background, to find solace in serving queen and country. What watch is that? A rolex?"

"No a omega" Bond replied

"Beautiful," Vesper commented.

"Now, if I hadn't just met you, I wouldn't go as far as calling you a cold-hearted bastard, but it wouldn't be a stretch to imagine you view women as temporary pleasures rather than meaningful pursuits. So, as charming as you may be, Mr. Bond, I'll be keeping a watchful eye on our government's funds," she remarked.

All this while Bond gazed at Vesper without saying a word, but then his narcissistic side flared up, and he commented, "You're quite perceptive."

"Even accountants have imagination, Mr. Bond," Vesper said. "How was your lamb?" She questioned.

"Skewered," James replied.

"Good evening, Mr. Bond," Vesper said.

"Good evening, Mrs. Lynd," Bond replied as he watched her walk into another carriage, then he sighed and reflected on the challenging mission ahead.