Universal Exports is proud to present a new work of fan fiction set in the deepest thoughts of James Bond in the moments after his wife is killed on their wedding day...
Bond and Tracy at their wedding
by Bethan Richards
The shot pierced her. For a moment her heard her sharp scream. Then she was gone. Gone forever. He turned around. He tried to look. But he could not. It was too painful. His heart was too heavy with misery. Misery for what was now lost forever. He tried again. He forced himself to look upon her, lying across the back of the car. The long, auburn curls framing the perfect oval face. Her white veil blowing in the wind. Seconds passed as hours. Time seemed to stand still as he sat staring at the beautiful, yet so lifeless body. The thing that hurt him most was that he had done so little to protect her.
Suddenly the truth hit him. His Tracy had been taken from him, their happiness snatched away. He crashed to the floor as he grasped her suddenly ice-cold, yet so delicate hand, tears beginning to wrack themselves through his wrecked frame. How could he live without her? How could he survive without those beautiful eyes, those shining blue pools of water staring up into his? He longed for someway to rewind time. If only to tell her one last time how much he loved her. But it was too late. He could never bring her back. She was gone.
He had fallen for Tracy at the first of her. He had never met anyone quite like her before. Her courage, her independence and her ability never to give up were quite unusual in a girl of twenty-four. James had had other girls in the past, but when he was with Tracy, everything was different. His whole world seemed to light up, as if someone had just flicked on the light switch.
Bond started to re-live the whole experience, the car driving down the road, the string of loud shots, the vibration as they hit the car, then finally the horror of seeing his beloved Tracy out of his life forever. Dead. He still could not believe it. The fact that his wife was dead. Then he realised. It should have been him. That is what Blofeld had wanted. To be rid of him. Suddenly he was filled with hate for Blofeld. What right had he to take his darling Tracy away from him, to take the life of a girl so young? This hate would fuel Bond's passion to pursue Blofeld to the ends of the Earth in years to come.
What was the point of living now? The very essence of his life had been taken away. What would he do now, with no reason to live, no reason to carry on? He would never love again. His heart had been ripped apart and smashed into tiny little pieces, its ashes scattered to the wind. There was practically nothing left of him now. But, as he looked up into the setting sun, he saw his darling Tracy. If only he could be with her now. It would not be difficult. He could so easily slip away with her into the eternal sunset. After all, what was the point of carrying on? How could he live without her? His mind was already half away. He was almost gone now. There was not much left of him.
Tracy Di Vicenzo
"Come in 007, come in." The harsh sound of M's metallic voice on the radio snapped Bond out of his trance, out of his death-dreaming. He forced himself to stammer out a "Yes sir." Then came the endless list of instructions that were to be his new mission. Bond knew he could not tell M. Not just yet. If he did he would break down. He needed just a few more minutes alone with her.
Again he looked up, streaks of amber flashed across the red sky, and a wave of deep mauve shadow poured down from the sky and flooded the valley. Then he realised, she would not want him to give up now. She would always be with him, egging him on. He knew one day he would see her again, and they would be together, always. He knew one day he would be going home.