#➜[file accessed] :: MI6

[gothamnewsnetwork-official]

Alfred Pennyworth - Not Quite Human?

In Gotham City the name ‘Wayne’ holds a certain weight, akin to modern royalty; the Wayne family are the end-all-be-all of Gotham. And with that power comes a level of fame, not just for them but for their associates.

With fame comes rumours and delusions, such as the belief of many Gothamites that Bruce Wayne’s ( @officialbruciewayne ) (see related articles) second eldest son, Jason Todd-Harper ( @jason-peter-todd-harper ) (see related articles), is dead.

This is not, however, what we will be dissecting and discussing today. Rather, we will be turning our eyes to another member of the Wayne’s extended family (see related articles), Alfred Pennyworth ( @alfiethaddeuscranepennyworth ) (see related posts); the Wayne Family’s butler.

It was brought to our attention by an anonymous source earlier this evening that Mr. Pennyworth may not be as entirely the kind grandfather figure that we know him to be. Our source had recently gained access to the private files of Martha and Thomas Wayne (see related articles) when they started noticing certain discrepancies in Mr. Pennyworth’s employment files.

These discrepancies included, though are not limited to, his age, physical description, background, and family, each varying considerably depending on which documents you are looking at. It’s a wonder how any of these went unflagged by the IRS (see related articles) when the Wayne’s were filing their employment rebates (see related articles).

On top of this, we have been able to find multiple interviews with the late Wayne’s in which they speak of Mr. Pennyworth, who they were quite close with despite being his employers, and refer to him as being ‘willowy’ with auburn hair, a distinctive south whale’s accent, and a scar along his jaw. Later on, once the current Mr. Wayne was born (see related articles), articles begin to refer to him as being more portly with close-cropped black hair and a London accent.

Now, as we are all aware, body types change with age and circumstance, as at this time Mr. Pennyworth would have finally retired from his position as an MI6 (see related articles), and hair can be died on a whim. What is not so easy to change is one’s accent and one’s skin. Mr. Pennyworth has little reason to fake an accent, and there is no evidence of him covering any scars.

On top of this, Mr. Pennyworth has not seemed to age a day in nearly 3 decades. While this could in part be due to the runoff of the many Lazarus Pits (see related articles) under Gotham City in the Gotham Water Supply (see related articles), it could not have had this much of an effect on Mr. Pennyworth’s body without him directly bathing in it.

On top of this, it is unclear his exact age in any approximation, as some of his employment records date his birth to be as far back as 1923, with others placing it as recently as 1960. When questioned, other former members of the Wayne house staff stated that they simply ‘had never thought to ask’ or ‘couldn’t remember’.

When asked about his appearance the oldest members of the staff would state that he ‘reminded them a bit of Indiana Jones, nothing like a butler’, lining up with the late Wayne’s testimonies, whereas newer members of the staff would say he looks as he does now. There seems to be no period of shift between answers, all falling into the former or latter categories, something this journalist finds to be quite remarkable given the extreme shift.

There are two leading theories on this, and they are as follows -

Either Alfred Pennyworth is a human made immortal (see related articles) by some unknown force, or he is one of the 12 eldritch constructs (see related articles) of Gotham City.

While it is near impossible to prove either, we would simply like to inform the public of these theories as it may pit a rather tragic spin on the relationship between Mr. Pennyworth and the Waynes.

Let us know your thoughts on the topic (here)

Gotham Reports is certified in unbiased, fair, and reliable reporting

See the posts that inspired this (here)

[cicerfics]

MI6: EMPLOYEE ROSTER - STATION ATLANTIC (LEVEL 4 SECURITY CLEARANCE REQUIRED TO ACCESS THIS FILE)

Name: Rosalynn Thompson

Employee ID: SA415647

Department: Human Resources

Position: Instructional Coordinator

My position might not be the most exciting one at MI6, but I like to think I play a key role in keeping the place running. After all, we have to hold regular training seminars to remain in compliance with government regulations! And since I believe we should pursue constant improvement, I like to throw in some additional mandatory training sessions every now and then, just to keep everyone on their toes.

My latest contribution to our library of training seminars is designed to remind Q-Branch personnel to ensure that the contents of their lab reports are difficult to decipher, should they somehow fall into enemy hands. During the course of this 45-minute training, our personnel will learn to keep it SMART (by using secure military acronyms for relevant technology)!

While I try my best to keep the trainings fun and snappy, I'll admit that catching up on overdue job trainings usually isn't anyone's favorite part of their work-week. It's not exactly unheard of for attendees to drift off when I'm walking them through a 34-slide PowerPoint...especially if I'm hosting the training session remotely, like today.

...Still, it seems a little unreasonable for all Q-branch personnel in attendance to drift off all at once.

Folks? ...Hello? Can someone use the secure chatbox to let me know if we've lost our connection?

...Hello? Q? R? Are you still there?!

@mi6-cafe

[samanthahirr]

HR Complaints Against MI6 Staff Headcanons

The repeated complaints lodged in Q’s personnel file from various members of Q Branch all share a similar theme: harassment outside of work hours. While no malicious intentions have been ascribed to the quartermaster, his lack of respect for his staff’s work-life balance has resulted in Q texting and emailing his team hours after their shift ends—sometimes even in the middle of the night. HR has given the quartermaster a stern admonishment that he is not to contact his subordinates off-duty unless it is an emergency worthy of contacting Mallory first. In the year since this edict, the incidences of after-hours contact have dropped precipitously.

Gareth Mallory is always in a hurry, and finding parking in London has worse odds than roulette. In his first year as director of MI6, Mallory's corporate car was repeatedly ticketed, clamped, and even towed, for double-parking around London. The resulting expenses forced the head of Accounting to make an official note in Mallory’s personnel file: the director of MI6 must no longer have access to a corporate car…unless it also comes with a driver from the motor pool. 

James Bond’s file includes an official HR reprimand for flirting with a female visitor to the executive floor. A visitor who turned out to be the operations manager’s wife. Heh’em. While the lady was far from displeased with the attentions, the manager was very cross indeed, and he lodged a strongly worded complaint with HR about Bond’s harassment of women within the building. Bond felt awkward enough about the misunderstanding to cancel the date he’d made with the man's wife. Knowingly cuckolding someone who coordinates all of his real-time mission support seemed...unwise. 

Only last month, Alec Trevelyan got written up for flashing. His explanation for the event is that he’d been sparring with Bond…and then showering with Bond…and—as implied by the eyebrow waggle—having sex with Bond. And by the time he’d shaved and left the shower, his clothing was missing, along with every towel in the locker room. Even though Alec was ostensibly the victim of a prank, it was deemed unacceptable for him to walk naked through the halls of MI6, loudly demanding the return of his clothing, and showing his bits and bobs to all of the employees on the lower two floors of SIS.

When Bill Tanner was first brought on as M’s secretary, another member of staff accused him of repeatedly stealing her lunch from the fridge. Tanner was instructed by HR to stop the uncivil behavior forthwith. He tried explaining to the employee that he wasn’t the food thief, but the woman wouldn’t believe him. So Tanner took matters into his own hands and, on a day he knew she would be out on leave, he put his own meal in the refrigerator, laced with laxatives. The resulting mess proved the culprit to be the woman’s cubicle mate. Tanner warned the culprit to stop the food thefts or Tanner would expose them to HR, to their victim, and to M. The culprit transferred to a different branch on a separate floor after a few weeks. The complaint in Tanner’s HR file was never expunged, but he feels satisfied with his own self-vindication.

Eve Moneypenny’s first few weeks transitioning from the field to the executive floor as M’s secretary were…rocky. She’d spent the preceding five years on active field duty for various military and SIS divisions. Receiving passive aggressive response emails from the deputy director’s secretary Bethany—or more frequently, having her emails ignored by Bethany—got under her collar a bit. Moneypenny may have caught up to Bethany in the parking garage one evening and given her a piece of her mind. But it’s not like Moneypenny pulled a weapon or laid a hand on the woman! (She made sure all of her threats were only implied!) After the complaint, assignments were realigned so Moneypenny no longer works directly with Bethany; that dubious pleasure falls to Tanner. Despite the black mark in her personnel file, Moneypenny has to think things worked out in her favor. 

Doctor Hall has over two dozen complaints against him in his personnel file, all from disgruntled double-0 agents immediately following their mandatory psychiatric interviews. Field agents don’t like being asked prying questions—no one does!—but Doctor Hall has a diagnostic protocol to follow; it isn’t his fault that they’re already so stressed when they report for their appointments! He fretted over the complaints for a month, until M dismissed them as irrelevant bellyaching. He now considers the complaints an indicator of the agents' psychological stability that they’re threatening him with professional repercussions instead of the guns and knives he knows they’re illegally concealing under their tailored suits and dresses. 

[deathtransformed]

An MI6 Verse where M is Mycroft and Gemini got in because his older brother needed to watch over him. Gemini being a previous serial killer but had been recruited to work on tech because M doesn't trust him to go out in the field because he's aware of his (Mycroft's) mistake of not saving his younger brother. Gemini's file being top secret and heavily redacted that only M could access.

[unwelcome-ozian]

Hi, I have two questions!

I wanted to ask if you knew of any government/military based groups in Hendon (England), Barnet or surrounding areas (e.g. Edgeware) between 2005-2008? I believe I may have been programmed (planning on seeing a therapist soon), but as I literally have no memory between that time period I have no clue how it could've happened.

If it helps:

I have alters who have agent "ranks" (from Agent to Agent Supervisor), but also a lot of religious imagery (Roman Catholic and Christian).

My second question was: do you have any further information on military, "secret agent" or government programming? Specifically surrounding grabbing a lot of information and reporting back (delta reporters and seducers)

Take your time in sorting out what has occurred. Typically government/intelligence programming involves a family member who was a member/served with/in one of the agencies.

Government intelligence ranks use ‘Agent’ in their ranking. For example: . [MI6] Supervising Agent.

Here’s the programming it sounds like you’re talking about: Government Mind Files Programming-Parts are programmed to memorise government documents. The part is programmed with an access code to retrieve the file.

Take care, Oz

[swannbond]

FILE :// 1655428_007_MSB....ACCESSING....LEVEL 7 ACCESS GRANTED

Mathilde was born to Dr. Madeleine Swann in London on a rainy September day, beautiful and healthy and looking so much like her father. She was raised by her mother in a comfortable townhouse in London, enjoying the best education and all her mother's unconditional love. From a young age, Mathilde was aware that her father wasn't in her life and she asked her mother question upon question about him. Realising that secrets and lies would only hurt her daughter more than the truth, Madeleine told her the truth as best she could. And so Madeleine grew up believing her father to be dead.

Until one day when she was five years old, while on a trip to her mother's house in Norway, Mathilde saw her father for the first time, very much alive. Despite the whirlwind of confusion and fear in Mathilde's five year-old mind, she instantly felt a strong connection to this strange but so familiar man. And she promised herself she would never let anyone take her father away from her again.

However, this time, it was Mathilde who was taken. When Lyutsifer Safin kidnapped her, she tried to stay as strong and fearless as she knew her parents would be. Because there was no doubt in her mind that they would come for her.

And they did. Reunited with her parents once again, Mathilde was desperate to escape from Safin and that godforsaken island. She vividly remembers stepping into that boat and watching her father return inside the facility. She could feel the fear in her mother and Mathilde asked for her father, over and over again. Once at a safe distance, Mathilde searched the horizon for her father's boat. What happened next is still a blur in her memory.

She remembers hearing the rockets approach, the deafening explosions as the island was hit. She remembers screaming for her father. Helicopters arrived, agents sweeping her off her feet, her mother crying. And once again, Mathilde believed her father to be dead, and this time the image was burned into her mind.

The face of Lyutsifer Safin haunted Mathilde's nightmares for years to come, leaving her drenched in cold sweat and screaming her father's name in the middle of the night. Madeleine did her best to help her daughter, but the trauma of Safin's island never went away.

It wasn't until Mathilde was twelve years old that the awful, heartbreaking truth emerged from the shadows: James Bond wasn't dead. He had been infected with a modified version of Heracles, the nanotechnology that could kill with a single touch. Modified so that it would kill only Mathilde and Madeleine. Bond had survived the explosions, escaping the island just in time, and then chosen to go into voluntary isolation in a blacksite of MI6 until a way to disarm the nanotechnology could be found. It had taken seven years, but finally Q Branch had found a way to filter Heracles from Bond's blood.

But the trauma of the events on Safin's island and the years spent trying to process it all had taken a toll on Mathilde. She refused to see or speak to James for four more years, angry about the lies and the pain they made her suffer through. The first time Mathilde ever spoke to her father again was on her 16th birthday, when she told him he needed to sign off on her joining the Royal Navy if he ever wanted her back in his life again. And so he did.

Mathilde spent six years in the Royal Navy, earning a name for herself at a rapid pace: authority issues, impulsiveness, undying loyalty and a slight penchant for self-sacrifice. She showed extreme promise, excelling at almost every task given to her and eventually rising to the rank of Lieutenant Commander.

When the time came to sign on for four more years, Mathilde was approached by MI6, who had been keeping an eye on the Bond legacy for a long time. While Mathilde's goal had always been to outrank her father, she decided that in the end, joining MI6 was inevitable for her so why delay the process? She left the Navy and joined MI6 as an agent in training.

By this time, Mathilde's relationship with her father, despite being rocky at first, had improved greatly. He'd been offered the position of M a few years after being cured of the Heracles infection and had been running the department ever since. He supported her decision to join MI6, unlike Madeleine, and made sure to meddle in her training as little as possible, knowing that she was determined to succeed on her own strength instead of on her father's legacy.

And yet again, Mathilde proved herself beyond capable. Excelling at training, and causing trouble wherever she went, it was obvious from the start that the Bond legacy would continue with her. She began to specialise in honeypot missions, skillfully extracting information, assets and materials from targets through deception, seduction and a hint of intimidation. When she was 29, she was given her first kill mission: to kill a double agent in Moscow who was about to hand over top secret documents to the Kremlin. Despite an initial hiccup, she performed masterfully. Two years later, the second assassination followed: a SPECTRE infiltrator who had recently gotten engaged to a powerful politician within the EU. After completing this mission, Mathilde was officially given double-oh status and given her father's , infamous code number, 007, at her request. And thus breaking her father's record of youngest double-oh in MI6 history.

For two years now, Mathilde has been working as a double-oh, trying to leave her own mark on MI6 history while struggling with the weight of her father's legacy and her own past.

[esonetwork]

Timestamp #294: Spyfall

New Post has been published on https://esonetwork.com/timestamp-294-spyfall/

Timestamp #294: Spyfall

Doctor Who: Spyfall (2 episodes, s12e01-02, 2020)

Custard cream, shaken, not stirred.

Part One

In various locations worldwide – Ivory Coast, over the Pacific Ocean near Tokyo, and Moscow – operatives are attacked by strange creatures that emerge from the walls. Meanwhile, Team TARDIS is getting some much-needed downtime.

Ryan is spending time with his friend Tibo, Yaz is packing for her next trip, Graham visits the doctor for a checkup after a procedure four years prior, and the Doctor has her TARDIS on a garage car lift while she performs maintenance. All of them are interrupted by official-looking men in black suits.

While the team is driven to a mysterious location, a red beam shoots out of the GPS unit and vaporizes the driver. The car then starts acting on its own with an ominous message that everyone inside will die in five seconds. After trying to solve the problem with her sonic screwdriver, the Doctor eventually grabs the rearview mirror and reflects the killer beam back into the GPS. With the program stopped, the Doctor stops the car just before it falls off the roadway.

As the team recovers, a voice identifying as C convinces the Doctor to come to MI6 in London. The team arrives with the TARDIS at Vauxhall Cross and is met by C, who mistakes Graham for the Doctor because of the extensive files on the Time Lord. The Doctor quips that she’s had an upgrade and C tells her that he’s been authorized by every security agency around the world to ask for her help.

Intelligence officers worldwide have been attacked. Their DNA has been rewritten, leaving the body as a shell to hold whatever remains. C offers the team some briefcases of spy equipment and a dossier on Daniel Barton, the founder of VOR, a modern technology company that is more powerful than most nations. The Doctor asks for C’s best man, someone named O, but C has fired him because UNIT and Torchwood can handle things.

Unfortunately, those organizations are no longer viable options, so the Doctor sends a voicemail to O to get his location. She receives a fish image in reply, and soon after, C is killed by a sniper. Aliens begin phasing through the walls and the team runs for the TARDIS.

The Doctor uses the steganography of the fish picture to track the agent to the Australian Outback. They escape just in time as one of the beings was phasing into the TARDIS, something that the Doctor didn’t know was possible. The Doctor decides to send Yaz and Ryan to VOR while she and Graham meet with O.

Yaz and Ryan head to San Francisco while posing as journalists to meet with Daniel Barton. Yaz uses a bioscanner and Ryan duplicates Barton’s badge with his spy equipment. The interview is cut short by a phone call, but Barton invites them to his birthday party tomorrow to get a better profile of him. Yaz is concerned because the bioscanner shows that Barton is only 97% human.

Meanwhile, the Doctor and Graham are met by O and agents Seesay and Browning. Inside the house, they discuss the situation and O’s history of chasing alien incursions, but O is cautious because the threat will likely follow her. Later that night, the movement sensors start tripping. Luminescent figures attack the two agents and surround the house, and O’s security field takes out all of them but one. The last one enters the house and is trapped by a glass cage. When it speaks to the Doctor, it says that it is from far beyond her understanding. It’s also ready to take over the universe.

Yaz and Ryan use Barton’s security credentials to access his office. As Yaz copies his laptop drive, Barton returns, forcing the amateur spies to hide. He tells two glowing figures to show themselves and then discusses a project before Barton leaves. As Ryan and Yaz get ready to leave, another glowing figure attacks Yaz and makes her disappear. Ryan is left with no option but to run.

Yaz wakes up alone in an alien landscape filled with giant stalks. As the Doctor and Ryan interact with the glowing creatures, Yaz is surrounded by white light and transported to the glass cage at O’s house. As Ryan calls the Doctor, she gathers the team. The next morning, Ryan comforts Yaz while O discusses Graham’s knowledge of the Doctor. The Doctor finds alien code in Barton’s system files that reveals the intruders’ locations around the world. O recommends taking their concerns directly to Barton at his birthday party.

Joined by O, the team takes the TARDIS to Barton’s home. They don dinner jackets and hack the guest list, but when they go inside, Barton receives the footage from Yaz and Ryan’s sneaking about. The Doctor confronts Barton, but Barton denies everything before leaving in a car. The Doctor, Graham, and Yaz pursue on motorcycles with Ryan and O as passengers. Barton shoots at them and escapes to his private jet, but the group hides in the hangar with the plan to jump onboard.

O claims that he was never a good runner, but the Doctor calls his bluff. The O that she knows was a champion sprinter. Once they board the plane, O reveals that he has been the spymaster all along.

Or rather, the spy… Master.

The Doctor’s old friend and enemy took O’s form – killed him on his first day at MI6 and shrunk him – and has been controlling Barton and the aliens. His house is his TARDIS, Barton has vanished, and a sonic-proof bomb counts down in the cockpit.

The Master summons two of the aliens as the bomb explodes. The plane plummets to the ground and the Doctor tells her that everything she knows is a lie. The aliens teleport him away, taking the Doctor with them in a surprise move, and leave the companions to die.

Part Two

The Doctor wakes up in the alien dimension and tries not to panic. On the plane, the companions are panicking, but Ryan discovers several plaques with his name on them under the seats. He follows them to a guide titled “How to Land a Plane Without a Cockpit” and shows it to the others. They find a video guide produced by the Doctor that leads to an app on Ryan’s phone that allows them to steer the plane to safety.

The Doctor finds a woman dressed in early 19th-century clothes named Ada. Ada believes that she’s dreaming while paralyzed in the real world, and she’s been here many times before. She mentions a name – Kasaavin – and one of the beings appears. Ada offers to take the Doctor with her, and they grasp hands and vanish.

In his TARDIS, the Master calls Barton about the success of their plan. Barton is notified that his damaged plane is about to land. The Master promises to find the Doctor while Barton takes care of the companions.

The Doctor and Ava arrive at a science convention in London, 1834. The Doctor vows to find her companions and then attempts to explain herself to Ava. They are interrupted by the Master as he blusters into the convention and starts shrinking people with his Tissue Compression Eliminator. The Doctor reveals herself and the Master forces her to kneel before him. He reveals that he knows almost nothing about the creatures except general interests and a name: Kasaavin.

The Master offers news from home, but Ada shoots him in the arm with a steam machine gun. The two women escape.

The companions decide to follow Barton to his next engagement in London, but Barton uses their phones and profiles to make them public enemies. Ryan destroys their phones and they run.

The Doctor and Ada meet up with a colleague, the polymath Charles Babbage with his difference engine, and the Doctor realizes that her friend is the future computer scientist Ada Lovelace. Babbage has a statue called the Silver Lady that has projected the Kasaavin to Ada since she was young. The plan is to place spies throughout Earth’s history. The Doctor uses her sonic screwdriver on the statue to summon a Kasaavin. The Doctor plans to use it to return to the 21st century, but Ada grabs her hand at the last moment and tags along for the ride.

The companions take refuge in an abandoned construction site as they plan their next moves. They also discuss the Doctor and what they know about her. When the Kasaavin appear, the companions use what remains of their spy gadgets to defend themselves.

The Doctor and Ada appear in Paris, 1943, in the middle of a bombing raid. They hide with another woman as the Master arrives in a German army uniform. The woman – Noor Unayat Khan, the first female radio operator to be placed behind enemy lines – hides the Doctor and Ada under the floorboards while the Master and his troops search her residence. Ada’s presence is what dragged the Doctor to this time and place. What lies ahead is an enormous task.

In the modern day, Barton and the Silver Lady stand before an older woman tied to a chair. She’s Barton’s mother and he wanted to see her on “the last day.” The statue activates and the Kasaavin surround her as she screams. Elsewhere, Yaz uses a phone box to call home. The call is tracked by VOR, but that was the plan all along. Holding the VOR agents at bay with a laser shoe, the companions steal their phones and escape in their car. Unfortunately, they later discover Barton’s dead mother and a message that they’re too late to stop his plan.

The Doctor uses Noor’s telegraph to tap out a four-beat code. It signals the Master and the two Time Lords make telepathic contact. They promise to meet up alone at the Eiffel Tower. The Master reveals that he’s using a perception filter to fool the Nazis before admitting to hijacking the agency car and killing C. He didn’t bring the Kasaavin to Earth, but rather suggested a different plan for the spies on Earth. That plan is to eliminate the human race and then dispose of the Kasaavin.

The Master also claims to have visited Gallifrey in its little bubble universe. It has been burned to the ground.

The Nazis arrive, having been tipped off about the Master acting as a double agent by Noor. The Doctor jams the perception filter and leaves as the soldiers turn on him. The Doctor joins Ada and Noor at the Master’s TARDIS, armed with the understanding that the Kasaavin have been tracking people who worked in the development of computer science.

Back to the modern day, Barton delivers a speech thanking the public for giving him all of their information. He sends a text – “Humanity is over. You have three minutes to prepare.” – and explains that humans will make perfect hard drives. The Silver Lady summons the Kasaavin as Barton prepares to wipe humanity’s DNA for use as data storage.

The companions arrive but are unable to stop the Silver Lady. The Master also arrives, angry at having to live for 77 years on Earth. Surprisingly, the Silver Lady stops and Barton runs into hiding. The Doctor enters the room with Ada and Noor, revealing that she knew that Barton would use the statue so she re-engineered it to shut down at a mass Kasaavin gathering. She plays the Master’s plan – in his own words – to double-cross them, and the Kasaavin swarm the Master. He screams as he is teleported away.

The Doctor promises to explain everything and returns Noor and Ada to their proper times after wiping herself from their memories. She also plants the instructions for Ryan to pilot the plane. Finally, the Doctor travels to Gallifrey.

The Capitol has been destroyed. As the city burns, a geo-activated holographic message from the Master is triggered. He reveals that he razed the planet, furious that the whole existence of their species was built on the lie of the Timeless Child. The words spark an image in the Doctor’s mind of a young girl standing by a tower. It’s a vision hidden in all Gallifreyans, but the Master refuses to make it easy for the Doctor.

Days later, the companions have visited five planets with the Doctor. They demand to know about her, so she opens up about her home, why she travels, and her relationship with the Master. Yaz asks if they can visit Gallifrey, but the Doctor replies, “Another time.”

This entire story is an obvious parody and homage to the spy genre, specifically the James Bond franchise. From the single-letter pseudonyms and the hyperbolic gadgets to the names with double meanings – Agents Seesay and Browning are obviously nods to the “See Something, Say Something” (SeeSay) mantra that evolved after September 11, 2001 and the Browning Arms Company, the latter of which ties back to Nazis with Hanns Johst’s propaganda play Schlageter – this story is packed with references. It even includes some deus ex machina hand-waving conveniences to get our heroes out of jams.

For that alone, I loved it. But then we get Sacha Dawan as the Master. The performance is amazing on its own, but the demeanor shift when he drops his disguise is perhaps the most brilliant part. He turns on a dime from sane and reasonable to off-his-rocker batshit crazy. The return of the Master is why this story in particular is dedicated to Terrance Dicks, the script editor for the character’s debut in Terror of the Autons. Terrance Dicks was one of Doctor Who‘s most prolific writers, from novels and episode novelizations, and was the editor for the Troughton and Pertwee eras. He died on August 29, 2019.

Specifically, Spyfall nods to a few James Bond properties: The title comes from 2012’s Skyfall; the themes of gambling and aristocracy hail from the 1953 novel Casino Royale; the plane sequence can point back to 1964’s Goldfinger; and the car sequence is derived from Live and Let Die from 1973.

This adventure marks a departure from the impenetrable TARDIS that we’re used to, showcasing the first time that a villain has been able to physically break through the TARDIS doors. We’ve seen other things do the same, most recently in Kerblam!, and no explanation was provided. It just… happened.

I was also not happy with the mind-wipe for the historical figures. Sure, I get why it was necessary to preserve history, but it still didn’t sit well. Those two downer items and the usual rapid ending aside, I really enjoyed this adventure. The writing was a bit more engaging and the overall production was fun.

Rating: 5/5 – “Fantastic!”

UP NEXT – Doctor Who: Orphan 55

The Timestamps Project is an adventure through the televised universe of Doctor Who, story by story, from the beginning of the franchise. For more reviews like this one, please visit the project’s page at Creative Criticality.

[aquarri]

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AU. After graduating from uni with his degree in Costume Design, Harry Styles is finally ready to start as a dresser on his first real West End show. Nothing can get in his way.

- The Games We Play by Wishingforloushair (50,078 words)

Harry Styles is a good agent. He’s sure of it. But his track record in MI6 leaves something to be desired. Presented with his big break, an undercover mission to take down one of the biggest arms dealers in England, he’s ready to prove himself to everyone. But his plans are quickly foiled by discovering who his undercover partner is: Louis Tomlinson, the agent Harry has had a rivalry with since Basic Training. Effortlessly put together, quick tongued, and ready to dive into action, Louis is everything Harry’s not, and when he realises the details of the operation involve them needing to present as a married couple, Harry seriously wonders what he’s done in a past life to be cursed like this. Through rivalry, fear, and hope, the pair untangle a complicated web of lies that threatens to shake the very foundations of the Agency.

- Please Tell Me That You've Got Me by ColorfulSuitmoon (20,652 words)

Or a world where the nickname your soulmate will call you appears on your chest on your 18th birthday and Harry wakes up with the only name he hates.

- Caffeine Withdrawals by corrinebailey (67,635 words)

Or the one where Harry can't fall asleep, he wants to hate his coworker, and Louis might be the one to solve everything

"Superior" Louis

- Take My Breath Away by RealityBetterThanFiction (153,658 words)

There is a prestigious school in the British Royal Navy classified as Premier Delta - or as it is known by its flyers, 1D. These select pilots are an elite set of Naval lieutenants who are trained in the skill of aggressive aerial combat. They are instruments of war, trained in times of peace. They are dogfighters, relentless and fearless in their mission to protect their beloved country. From their lofty vantage, they are always watching, waiting, and ready to lay it all on the line.

Lt. Harry Styles, call sign Sparrow, is a prodigy when it comes to flying. The owner of an unrivaled Naval pedigree, being a pilot was always written in the stars for Harry. With his trusty RIO, Lt. Niall Horan, Harry has made an unprecedented ascension in the ranks of the Naval aerial combat elite, and has been recruited to the esteemed Premier Delta flight school, carrying on his family’s legacy. What he finds there are unexpected friendships, perilous challenges, and something beyond what he ever thought possible. Because as his father had always told him, before the great Captain Styles went tragically missing in combat, you don’t fall in love with the sky, you fall in love with what keeps you on the ground.

- Don’t Look Down by zarah5 (91,709 words)

AU. In which Louis is a solicitor at one of London’s most prestigious law firms and Harry happens to apply for the position as his trainee. And everyone else is around, too.

- you are my destiny (you are the reason that i still believe) by alwaysxlarrie (98,007 words)

Being a new employee at a company means that you have to learn to brush off the shitty bosses, shitty coworkers, and not getting the credit you actually deserve for things. At least, that's been Harry Styles' experience. Coworkers who steal his ideas in pursuit of getting praise and a raise, and a boss who's indifferent at best and condescending at worst. Harry has learned to expect this reality for the foreseeable future. He's accepted it.

What he hadn't expected was for Louis Tomlinson to waltz into their company, and his life, and change around everything he thought he knew about fate.

- The Prophecy by HoPotato (18,717 words)

CEO of Empyrean, Louis Tomlinson should have all that he can wish for. After inheriting his mother's company, everyone might think the most eligible alpha cannot wish for anything else but in reality he lives in a glass cage, crushing under the weight of dreams that aren't his and the ghoul of the life he never had. What changes everything for him is a simple resignation letter from his personal assistant on his desk on one fine morning.

[sovietespionage]

a starter for @dontcxckitup

Brazen. Impudent. Cheeky. All good adjectives for a woman one wrong step away from getting caught by Interpol. She’d been living out of a duffel bag for a week now, ever since the facility exploded.

News outlets were stating it was terrorist action against a private stocks and bonds company. Insurgents attempting to destabilize the economy in a country that had changed hands so many times even the citizens were a little confused to which flag they were supposed to salute. The Cold War had been over for decades, but it had never really ended -- it simply changed clothes. Instead of battered Soviet olive green, it wore sleek Armani black.

Natasha was sitting in a coffee shop, surrounded by college students and businessmen grabbing their morning venti with soy milk. She’d purchased a black coffee simply to get access to the cafe’s network, seemingly absorbed in whatever was on her laptop screen. She looked like every other overworked student, busily selecting files to attach to an email.

It had to be something enticing enough to snare interest, but not reveal the whole hand she was playing. The intelligence community spoke of M in hushed whispers, intimidated by the tools at their disposal. Natasha had tangled with a few 00s in her time, she was rightly impressed by anyone who could corral those spirited agents into toeing the line.

Files attached, she merely left the number of the burner phone tucked into her pocket in the body of the email, then fired it off. Intraoffice communication was likely a daily chore for the person who wore the crown in MI6, but the redhead was hoping she gave them a little excitement on a Wednesday morning.

She closed out of the email program and disconnected from MI6′s communication suite, pulling up YouTube to watch news broadcasts from around the world as she sipped her lukewarm coffee.

[valaks]

Sins of the Father (deleted fic)

John Rider betrayed all of MI6 to SCORPIA leaving his partner to barely escape with his life. 14 years later Senior Field Agent Gregorovich is assigned as the handler for Alex Rider. He says he won’t hold his father’s crimes against him but there are just so many John like features that he wants to break out of him and with carte blanche to shape Alex into the perfect agent, he will have his chance.

“You want me to train him?” He didn’t even bother with a greeting, he knew this was coming the moment that news of Alex Rider breaking into Vauxhall had reached his desk. Possibly before then if he was honest, remembering the considering looks he had caught ever since the assassination of Ian Rider.

“You are a talented trainer and we need to make him a highly capable agent.” Jones observed conversationally. “Ian has already laid quite a bit of ground work he’ll just need some....polishing.”

“Obviously” Yassen had seen the footage of him at the site of Ian’s assassination, of him shadowing Crawley to gain access, they were all the hallmarks of someone trained, not the grieving teenager he was supposed to be. Part of him was suspicious that he was once again being set up with another Rider to stick a knife in his back. Jones said he had been raised with Ian since Helen’s “accident” there were pictures and documentation in the file he had accessed to prove it, but he had worked in this field long enough to know that such things could be faked. “Was that intended or just a convenient accident?”

Jones frowned at him, even using the word ‘convenient’ was enough to signal to her that he already knew the answer. “Ian showed him what was necessary to keep him safe. You know what he is up against better than anyone. But to answer your question, it was not anything that we encouraged or assisted with.”

“Does he know?” Yassen inquired as he stared at the teen in the interrogation room. To an untrained eye he might appear calm - his hands were still on top of the table, he was sitting ramrod straight, staring evenly at the glass as though he could see right through it but the almost imperceptible twitching in his calf told him that he was nervous. As he should be, given that he was caught breaking into a secure government facility. He would have to train those tells out of him, assuming Jones allowed him the...privilege.

“Ian never told him he worked for us, let alone that his father…” she trailed off “Are you certain you’re not too close?”

“I am a professional, Tulip. I won’t go easy on him but then you would not want me to, not with what Mr. Blunt is asking.”

“‘Won’t go easy’ sounds like a convenient catch all for revenge.” Jones replied matter of factly, finally turning away from the mirrored window.

“I can handle it.” He ground out, catching her gaze from the corner of his eye “I wasn’t much older when I went through training” that was a lie and one she caught because it earned him an arched eyebrow “If it will make you feel better, provide me with one of your teams to supervise and report - he will need a retrieval team as a field agent, best for him to become familiar with them now.”

She surveyed him then nodded stiffly “Fine. K Unit is yours. I’ll pull them off assignment and have Wolf report to you.”

“Are they nearby?”

“In an interrogation at our site in Sussex but F Unit is shadowing, they can take over.” She hesitated “You want to start immediately?”

“Of course, he is already here, it will seem like a natural consequence of breaking in and he will only blame himself. I will fan the flames of that.“

“He is clever, Yassen. He will know that there is more to it than just keeping him out of jail.”

“I would be disappointed if he did not, but the fact will remain that he brought himself to our attention. We will meet them in Sussex.”

“You want to start with RTI?” The mistrust was probably earned.

��I think it would be instructive to make it clear just what Alex is in for. His life is not going to be easy form here on out regardless of success or failure, it would be best to start that lesson early.” He turned fully toward her “You are not going to like what you see in the reports, I will have to push him far beyond the limits of a normal agent for him to be what you want.”

“Keep it professional and we won’t have a problem. Blunt wants him to be a working asset, you have 3 months to turn him into one, longer if you are kept on as his handler.”

Yassen nodded thoughtfully, he could work with that “A reasonable time frame, even for a Rider.”

“Yassen…”

He cut across her “He broke into a government facility on a hunch and from his interrogation he is remarkably resilient and determined, very much like his father and his uncle.”

“The interrogation was highly classified.” She said, eyes narrowing.

“Tell that to half the senior field agents on the floor” Yassen returned and her stance shifted, there would be a presentation on classified information in their future. Hopefully he would be deep into Alex’s training by the time it occurred “He won’t go down quietly but I will give you the asset you want.” She shot him a glare, obviously not trusting his intentions. He didn’t blame her. Yassen was known to hold a grudge against the Riders which meant this was probably Blunt's idea but he was one of her favored too “Trust me, Tulip, I haven’t failed to give you a solid agent yet.”

“No, you haven’t, but you also haven’t had a Rider to work with. We kept you and Ian away from each other for a reason.” She said stiffly.

He knew she had her own reservations over the project for far different reasons. She likely didn’t see the miniature John Rider he did. It had been years since her children had been taken, but he had no doubt that when she looked into the room it was one of them who was sitting in Alex’s place. But Tulip Jones didn’t become Deputy Director by letting things cloud her judgement. He would be given more attention for it, but no more than would be fitting given his potential and unique position.

“He’s yours, Gregorovich” she conceded, she had already said that in so many words but he imagined that she was saying it more for herself than him.

“Do you have a dossier of what Ian covered?”

“In the file. A copy is on your desk, though, you have already accessed his electronic file this morning.” He wasn’t surprised that she was aware of that, it was her business to know things like that. She held out two small keys, no doubt to the handcuffs. “Three months, arrange whatever you need, all approvals come through me but Alan has given very few restrictions. I want a functional agent back, Gregorovich, not a broken shell. He’s not John Rider.”

“You will have your asset.” He said taking the keys from her and pocketing them. He cast one last look at the teen still glaring into the mirror. He imagined that the wait and uncertainty seemed daunting to him but in a few weeks Alex Rider would regret not savoring the peace of the interrogation room. Yassen would come back to him, for now he needed to go make arrangements.

[cali-holland]

Golden Hearts, Ch. 1: You Only Live Twice

Harrison Osterfield X Reader, James Bond AU ~ Sequel to Golden Bullets

Following a messy split, Harrison, Agent 007, resumes his role as an elite womanizer, after his recovery from his previous mission; meanwhile, you’ve stepped back from your 00 status, taking on cases as MI6’s assistant director from your office. When a new threat emerges to MI6 and a dear friend gets kidnapped, can you and Harrison set aside your differences to save special agent Q, better known as Tom? Or will the stakes- and your love, push you two further apart?

Word Count: 3400

Gif is not mine

Golden Hearts Masterlist

Masterlist   Harrison Osterfield Masterlist

Let me know if you want to be added to the series tag list

Warnings: talk of kidnapping/death/weapons dealing; someone gets thrown on the ground but they’re fine; knives??

Featured Song: “You Only Live Twice” by Nancy Sinatra from You Only Live Twice (1967)

 ~ “You only live twice, or so it seems, One life for yourself, and one for your dreams “

~~~

Your breath hitched in your throat as you tightened your grip on your gun. Slowly, you peeked out from behind the tattered down wall, checking for any oncoming motion. With the coast clear, you made your way down the hallway, illuminated with fluorescent blue lights, making your white shoes glow in the dark. At the end of the hallway, you let out a small sigh of relief and pressed your back flat to the wall. You turned to look down the next hall, watching as figures passed by laughing and screaming in joy. You tried to spot your target, finger itching to pull the trigger.

Before you could continue your journey along the dark halls, you heard an electronic bang! ring out and you looked down as your red vest and gun lit up and changed to a plain white.

“Damn you-” You muttered, starting to turn around to face the man who’d shot you, but you were cut off by him kissing you. His hands leaned on the wall, pining you between it and him.

“Harrison 3, Y/N 0.” He smirked, and you playfully scowled at him. “Who would’ve known you sucked so much at laser tag?”

“This gun,” You held up your now white plastic gun, “is nothing like an actual gun. It’s not at all realistic for a gun to be this light.”

“You’re just a sore loser.” Harrison teased, his blue eyes lighting up even more from the blue lights surrounding the two of you.

“Are you going to let me go?” You asked, biting your lip. Your fingers trailed along the lit up blue vest he wore as his laser tag vest. “Or are we going to spend our last ten minutes of laser tag doing something else?”

“The latter sounds pretty fun.” He replied, leaning in to kiss you again. Not caring about anyone seeing the two of you make out in a dark corner, Harrison got lost in the heated kiss. Meanwhile, you had other plans. Still kissing him with the same passion as he kissed you, you let your free hand make its way to his neck, tugging on the hair at the base of his neck, knowing exactly how wild that drove him.

You smiled into the kiss as you heard your gun light up again, telling you that you were back in the game. Harrison heard the small noise too, but he couldn’t react fast enough and you had already shot his vest with your gun.

“Oh, my bad, were you not expecting that?” You smiled innocently. Harrison just laughed before his lips found yours again.

You woke up with a jump, a thin layer of sweat covering your anxiety filled body. Instinctively, you reached for the gun that you kept in your bedside table, but you stopped as soon as your fingers touched cold metal. You were fine, no one was in the room with you, you didn’t need the protection.

Running a hand over your face, you groaned and trudged your way out of bed. Why did you have to have that stupid dream of your stupid ex? It was frustrating to think you and Harrison were once living your best lives together as special agents by day and lovers by night. Your relationship with him was thrilling, lively, fun— it brought out a whole new side of you. But the fun stopped when you left your 00 status; unbeknownst to Harrison, that was to help with the merge of MI6 and Nine Eyes. A part of you also hoped that maybe if you were to take your job as assistant director more seriously then you could feel safer about your relationship with Harrison, which no one except for Tom knew about. The last thing MI6 needed was for two 00’s to get caught up in love and forget their main duty to their country.

As you went about your morning routine, you did your best to forget all thoughts of Harrison and to instead focus on deciphering Tom’s message. L’Americain? Who or what was that? It simply meant The American in French— did he mean the American these men were trying to find? A part of you thought that maybe Tom didn’t even know. He was away on a family vacation, one that shouldn’t have involved him in such an odd affair. He never sent you encrypted messages, and you had a gut instinct that something was wrong, but it was a mystery that you weren’t sure how to solve.

“Is everything alright?” Moneypenny asked, poking her head into your office the next day as you sat at your office chair, head in your hands, desperately wanting to somehow leave this paperwork behind to go to sleep and rest your mind. You sat up straight in your plush chair and cleared your throat.

“Yes, everything’s fine. Why wouldn’t it be?” You replied, biting back a yawn.

“You seem tired,” She trailed off while she stepped into the room, coming to stand in front of your desk, “And distracted.”

“Just had a bit of trouble sleeping peacefully is all.” You lied. You suspected by MI6’s general lack of acknowledgement towards Tom’s absence and email that you were the only one to have received the message.

“M is having a meeting in an hour with C and would like you to join him.” Moneypenny explained her appearance in your office before you could even ask.

“Lovely.” You gave her your best smile, and she chuckled lightly, seeing right through you.

“I would say you’re going to have to try a lot harder at being polite in front of C, but rumor has it he’s quite fond of you.” She teased you.

“Oh please, it’s all just politics.” You joked, “C has a thing for any woman in power, just like most of the 00’s. He infuriates me.”

You paired your comment with a roll of your eyes, pulling a proper laugh from your friend before you. He, honestly, was just as bad as the rest of them- cocky, immature, seeking attention, not afraid to pick a fight with you just to see you riled up. “Speaking of 00’s, 007 has been trying to reach you.”

“Great. I’ll be sure to get back to him,” You paused as if you were thinking of a time frame, “Never.”

“What ever happened to you two? You came back from that Goldfinger mission as the world’s best pair, and then one day-“

“We grew apart.” You said sharply and she pursed her lips, nodding her head a little.

“Well,” She made her to the door, “Keep your secrets then, 006.”

“That’s not my title anymore.” You reminded her, but still couldn’t help the smile that graced your face at the name. Moneypenny sent you a quick wink before stepping out of your door.

When the door clicked shut, you let out a breath that you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding. Shaking your head, you turned back to your computer to refocus yourself on your work. You still needed to iron out a few details for Harry’s first mission, black market technology dealers in Japan. You were proud of your pupil, but you couldn’t maintain your focus on this project; your mind kept wandering back to Tom.

Pulling up a new encrypted tab, you accessed Tom’s message from last night. Being MI6’s assistant director had its perks, and accessing confidential documents under the radar was one of them. You ran the images he sent through the facial recognition system and waited anxiously for it to come back. Once the scan was complete, you looked through the files for any possible connections, but there were none— these men all had records in Spain yet they weren’t connected at all. They didn’t serve at the same prisons or even at the same times; there were no visible connections. Only one man was unidentifiable, but, with his back to Tom’s camera, his face was completely obscured. He may have been the leader of it all or he may have just simply been another gun-for-hire type like the rest of them; none of it made sense to you.

Next, you pulled up the search engine for MI6’s complete database. Typing in L’Americain, you hoped that maybe there was something. There were so many possibilities, but none of them were connected to these men or Spain or Tom. It’s like every single piece of information in the message was a dead end, and nothing felt more discouraging than having no clue what to do past this point. You checked the clock and realized it was time for your meeting with M and C. You quickly closed out of the encrypted message, keeping it as secretive as possible.

“Good afternoon, Agent Y/L/N.” M greeted you as soon as you stepped into his office. He sat at his desk, and Max Denbigh, also known as C, was across from him, reclined in one of the two office chairs.

“Good afternoon.” You replied, taking your seat besides C.

“We have reached an agreement with Nine Eyes about the merge.” M began, wasting no time in discussing the significant matters. “MI6 will merge with Nine Eyes in one week, effectively making British intelligence a prominent member of global security.”

“And what of the 00? What about our agents currently in the field?” You asked, mind flickering back to Harry’s impending mission.

“00’s are a thing of the past.” C stated in a solemn tone, but you could see the ghost of a smirk on his lips. “The world is changing. We don’t need men in suits running amok when technological security is the real future.”

You raised an eyebrow at his words. “00’s are the backbone of MI6 and British intelligence, and they are not just men, or have you forgotten that I’m a 00 agent too?”

“I thought you were retired from field work.” He replied. Your shoulders tightened at the bitter reminder that had slipped your own mind. You refrained from physically shaking your head to wash those thoughts away. As much as you hated it, he was right; you’re not a 00 agent anymore, you’re ‘retired from field work’.

“When the merge occurs,” M continued, passing off C’s comment, “then the 00’s will be recalled from field work. Agent 003 will be the last official agent.”

Before you could speak up about your concerns again, a phone began to ring and C stood up from his chair. He smiled politely at the two of you, “I really should take this, and I believe we have filled in Agent Y/L/N on the merge, so I’ll be going now.” And, without another word, he exited the room. You watched his retreating figure, eyeing the oddly anxious hand that clutched his phone.

“Agent Y/L/N,” M called your attention back to him, and you turned back to face him. You watched as he ever so slowly clicked off the recording device on his desk, the one used to ensure all his meetings are documented, “Have you heard anything from Agent Q?”

“No, sir.” You replied without a second thought.

“He was on holiday in Spain, and I was alerted this morning that his tracker was turned off.” He spoke slowly, watching for any reaction from you.

You swallowed a thick lump in your throat. The high-tech tracker was perhaps the most important device Tom had ever made. If removed from the agent, its location could still be found, but, if turned off completely, the agent’s either gone rogue or- well, you didn’t want to think of that other option. Considering the message from last night, though, you feared the worst.

“Agent Q was the highest ranking agent, next to you and me, meaning no one else knows of this information. I also received this note today.” M slid over a manila folder, labeled “Top Secret” across the top. 

Curiously, you opened it. There was a single piece of paper inside with a crude drawing of a kite. The paper simply read “Cuckoo”. You looked up at your superior, silently questioning what it meant.

“‘You’re a kite dancing in a hurricane’.” He said, “That’s what Oberhauser once told me.”

“Oberhauser? You mean-”

“The man behind S.P.E.C.T.R.E., the one that started it all. ‘Cuckoo’ is his calling card.” He paused, “I suspect Oberhauser- and therefore S.P.E.C.T.R.E.’s remains, are somehow connected to Agent Q’s disappearance.”

“But Oberhauser is dead, and Harrison and I stopped Goldfinger; we stopped S.P.E.C.T.R.E..” You stated in disbelief. Of all the possibilities of Tom’s disappearance, you never thought the notable and dead criminal organization would find its way back to you.

M shifted in his chair, nervously. “I’m afraid we can’t be certain of any of that now, but, if he has somehow returned, we must be prepared; Oberhauser would want a game. Q’s disappearance couldn’t have come at a more intense time with the Nine Eyes merge next week. I know you, Y/L/N, and I know Q has told you something about this, something that has made you itch since you’ve arrived here this morning. But you cannot go after him. I need you here with me. Trust is thin right now, and I can’t afford to lose any more agents. Do you understand?” There was a stiff seriousness in the air as he spoke. His cold eyes looking at you with a newfound intensity, as if he was studying you.

“I understand.” You nodded, biting your tongue as you did so. Slowly, you stood from the chair and made your way out of the room without another word.

As you made your way back into your office, you felt the weight of the situation begin to settle uneasily in you. You knew the delicateness of MI6’s current state, struggling for control with Nine Eyes while getting thrust into the wide spectrum of global cyber intelligence. And then there was Tom, your close friend and MI6’s technological genius, who was currently missing, and now you’ve been told to abandon any thought of rescuing him. It made your stomach twist in guilt, but M was right— Britain needed you here, not chasing L’Americain and other ghost trails for Tom.

That night, you stopped by your favorite takeout place on your way home, seeking some sort of comfort food. You were exhausted by the time you got home and were completely set on just helping yourself to some food and watching TV. You placed your takeout bag on the counter and unloaded its contents. 

You reached for a clean plate from your drying rack and spotted a dark figure behind you through the reflection on the sink faucet. Maintaining your cool, you grabbed the plate and a knife and fork from the rack, setting the plate and fork down in front of you. You felt the floorboard bend behind you, and, with one hand clutching the knife, you grabbed the arm of the mystery figure with your free hand and twisted it. Turning, you swept your feet under his, and he fell flat on the ground. Straddling his torso, you threateningly pressed the blade of the knife to his neck before you realized who it was, which only made you tighten your grip on the knife.

“I see you still know how to show a man a good time.” Harrison stated, chuckling almost nervously.

“And would you look at that- I’m still on top.” You said as you let go of him and stood up from on top of him. You went back to dishing up your dinner, “What do you want?”

“You say that like I can’t just stop by and visit you.” He got up from the floor and rubbed his wrist a little, sore from you twisting it so aggressively before.

“Why did you break into my apartment and sneak up on me?” You rephrased your original question. 

“It’s not breaking in if I still have a key. You really should change your locks.” Harrison came to stand by you at the counter while you avoided his eyes. Ready to make himself at home, he reached for a spare plate, one hand leaning on your kitchen towel. You stabbed your knife down onto the towel, right between his fingers, and he took that as your wordless threat to not touch your food. You grabbed your plate and sat down at your small dinner table, ready to eat your meal. Harrison’s eyes wandered around the room as if he couldn’t bear to look at you. His eyes landed on the steak knife in the dartboard on the wall.

“Got a thing for knives now?” He asked, pulling the knife off the dartboard. He set the knife in the sink, before looking at you curiously, “What’s gotten into you?”

“I’m not sanctioned to carry a gun, not as assistant director.” You said quietly. “Now, what the hell do you want?”

“Right. Anyway, it’s Tom.” Harrison leaned on the counter across from you, watching as you froze a little at the mention of your mutual friend. “He sent me an email last night-”

“L’Americain.” You stated, looking him in the eye for the first time since you so unceremoniously threw him on the ground. “I got the same message.”

Harrison seemed to light up hopefully at your words, “Good, so you can run some tests and figure out-”

“MI6 has no record of L’Americain. It’s not a place or a person or even a classified object. I have just as much intel on the matter as you.”

“And the men? In the photos?”

“They’ve all got criminal records in Spain, but, besides that, nothing. They don’t have connections to each other. L’Americain is a dead end for now.” You said, taking a bite of your dinner in hopes to end the conversation. It was silent for a moment, and you hoped that meant this was it, but then Harrison spoke up again.

“I’m going to Spain,” He paused, “and Harry’s coming with me.”

“Harry has his first mission across the world tomorrow. He cannot go to Spain.” You stated, and Harrison sighed, taking a seat beside you at your dinner table. You continued to eat your meal, doing your best to act unaffected by his close presence.

“He cares more about his brother than his mission. We need to find L’Americain and find Tom. Come with us, you know you want to.” Harrison encouraged.

“I can’t, and you shouldn’t either.”

“And why not? Tom’s my best friend—“ He began, and you cut him off.

“It’s dangerous.” You said, looking back at your food to avoid his striking eyes.

“Dangerous? Do you not remember what it’s like to be out there in the field?” Harrison questioned, standing up from his seat and walking around the table until he was in front of you, while you just simply continued on with your dinner. 

“I remember. M needs me here with him. Trust is thin right now, and he can’t afford to lose any more agents.” You fed him the same lines your superior had told you.

“You’re really just going to do nothing? You’re not even going to try to go save our friend? Our friend, who's the reason that we’re alive today?” He stepped back from the table, eyeing you suspiciously. You just nodded in response before slowly lifting your head to look at him. The moment your eyes saw his blue ones staring intensely back at you, you realized your mistake. Harrison could tell- he could see right through the facade and knew exactly how vulnerable you were.

“I’m not going to Spain.” You repeated, not breaking the stare. You watched as his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed. He let out a deep sigh before making his way to the door.

“Plane leaves at 1 tomorrow.” Harrison turned and gave you one final look before he left out the door, slamming it shut with more force than necessary.

You sunk back into your chair, shutting your eyes as you tried to steady your racing heart. You stayed like that for a few moments, until your mind felt at ease. When your eyes opened, they landed on the single postcard that was tacked to the wall in front of you, right beside the Italy themed calendar that had been left on an image of Venice from four months ago.

The Paris postcard seemed to glare at you as it read in golden, swirly letters “Thinking of you in the City of Love”. You didn’t even need to look at the back of it to know that a red 007 was signed on the other side.

Knowing what you needed to do, you let out a groan, “Damn you, Harrison.”

~~~

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[tundrainafrica]

Title: Hacker

Summary: 

"Education has reached a new frontier. Given the pandemic and the need to continue educating the youth, many companies have started developing ways to eliminate distractions in the online classroom. Eduguardian is an MDM solution designed to support our educators and guardians in their mission to create the optimal learning environment for children."

Brookland starts using Mobile Device Management solutions for the student's devices and Alex naively tries to find a way to bypass it. 

Written for the SpyFest fic exchange, Dec 2020

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Prompt:

"Alex is noticed as having a lot of potential (be it while he's on a mission or just going home from school but is paying a lot of attention to his surroundings and gets noticed by some criminals - not the ones he's investigating- or by some other intelligence agency; either way, they don't recognise him as a spy) and someone tries to recruit him. MI6 isn't exactly happy with the whole ordeal, especially when Alex gives the offer some serious consideration (or he doesn't, it's up to you. MI6 is still pissed)."

Notes:  I am so sorry I took way too many liberties with this hahahah. I hope it's still recognizable? An attempt at crack. (Do people actually follow me for Alex Rider content?)

When Brooklands got into the trend of holding both online and in-classroom classes, Alex was out on a mission. 

In fact, he didn’t even notice that most of his classmates were joining him when he was doing modules his teacher so kindly sent him. Probably because his downtime to actually look at those modules consisted of those times in a helicopter minutes before he was to skydive and land onto the roof of another military headquarters.

The change was gradual but it was there. Alex though, having had too many things running through his head never did notice it. That is until he opened one of his devices during class to see the browser Safari was blocked on his iPad.

Your school has not provisioned this as a Class App. Please contact your school administrator if you believe this is a mistake.

“What the hell is this?” Alex whispered, mostly to himself.

“Oh yeah, it’s blocked. You have to use the Eduguardian browser now,” Tom answered from next to him. He reached out over Alex’s shoulder and clicked on something on the lower screen of Alex’s ipad, a green app with a badge on it

“What? Why?”

“Yeah, something about ‘educational technology being the new frontier’ and ‘having to protect children in an online setting’…”

With Tom’s mannerisms, Alex could almost imagine the speech drilled into his classmates heads while he was away. He didn’t have to imagine for too long though. An ad of Eduguardian was one of the few things they were at least allowed to access during class. For some reason, Alex found himself more interested in the ad than in the actual class.

Education has reached a new frontier. Given the pandemic and the need to continue educating the youth, many companies have started developing ways to eliminate distractions in the online classroom.

Eduguardian is an MDM solution to support our educators and guardians form a better environment for your children.

MDM?

“Eyes up.” And just like that, before Alex could even figure out the implications of an MDM, his screen froze then locked and he was left with nothing better to do than listen to his teacher.

The teacher flashed the questions on the board. “Pop quiz everyone!”

A link was sent to his iPad. It opened up to a google form with one essay question History was generally one of the easiest subjects to google.

How were peasants in western Europe similar to serfs in Russia? How were they different?

It was an essay so at least they were given time and space to research. Or so that was what Alex thought. Having been a student for many years, and for a long one year, having been a student who was constantly behind. Alex had built very efficient methods for research.

As Alex opened up wikipedia, he soon found out what cruel reality.

“They blocked Wikipedia?”

“Apparently, starting with wikipedia is lazy research.” Tom answered softly back, looking not at all convinced with the school’s strategy.

For the first time since his first mission, Alex was not happy to be back at school.

                                        Hacker

“It doesn’t end there… When you get home, your parents have control of the gadget. They can set curfews, set up restrictions. This invention is fucking crazy,” Tom ranted as they made their way home that afternoon.

For Tom it was. Alex was sure though Jack wouldn’t be too strict about it. She never was. She was more like a sister than a parent to him after all.

All hopes of a normal day though were dashed when he came home to find Jack as confused as he was. “Brooklands never told me about anything like that.”

“You’re kidding...” That was a declarative statement. Alex did not want to even want to plant the possibility that maybe, just maybe she knew nothing about it. “Every student has to have an assigned guardian... “ Alex watched as Jack’s eyes widened in what could have been realization. As she did, Alex was starting to understand what she meant, having stumbled upon the same conclusion.

                                          Hacker

“Alex, you have to understand, MDM is the new frontier. With the internet, we can’t just have kids running around watching porn or war movies without supervision.”

“This is a bunch of horseshit. You’re infringing on my right to privacy.”

“You’re acting like we have never done this before Alex. Besides, it’s not like we’re watching what you’re doing 24/7. Just enough to keep you safe… and your content age appropriate.”

Mrs. Jones’s justification had Alex rolling his eyes. He had checked his web filtering settings that afternoon to see that all violent Youtube channels and subreddits had been blocked. Keywords like blood, guns and suicide have also been filtered out. But you’re so ready to drop me at the line of fire when convenient. He would have wanted to say. By then though, Mrs. Jones was looking back at her paperwork and Alex knew any argument would have been futile.

Any argument towards Jones at least. Alex still had allies among MI6.

“Smithers, how much do you know about this MDM thing?” Alex asked as soon as he closed the door behind him. He was aware that the walls were soundproof and he made little effort to regulate his voice, having wasted too much of his patience talking to Mrs. Jones. He had twenty other things to say more insulting to ‘horseshit’ after all.

“Well, it’s all the rage now but it’s nothing new. MI6 has been using mobile device management systems since before to watch their employees.”

“Why does MI6 have to be the one assigned to ‘parent’ my school account?”

Smithers shrugged. “They are your legal guardians.” The man had a face about him, as if he didn’t want to be involved. Alex knew Smithers had a soft spot for him and he just had to use it to his advantage.

For a few more moments they were silent. Alex though continued to stare at Smithers, widening his eyes a bit and twisting his mouth into a little pout, or maybe a face of disappointment. All he intended to show though was a little bit of hopelessness and awareness of the unfairness of his situation.

It may have worked. It may have not worked. It was enough for Smithers to let out a big sigh, bring out a USB and connect it into his computer. Within minutes, he placed it on the table, gesturing for Alex to take it. “Don’t you dare tell Mrs. Jones about this.”

                                         Hacker

It was a quick install virtual desktop interface.

It was a straightforward solution to the MDM that ravaged his iPad and within minutes of installation and booting it up, Alex finally had access to whatever else prepubescent boys usually preferred to search up privately.

Through the VDI at least. Alex noted. That virtual desktop had become Alex’s one stop shop for blocked content for both days at school and nights at home.

When in school, Alex already had a disadvantage when taking pop quizzes and for once he actually felt that MI6, or at least Smithers, was doing their part to undo the damage of missed classes. He had finished one of his quizzes for literature thirty minutes before the class ended because of the quick access he had had to sparknotes using the VDI Smither’s had given him.

“Alex, what the hell---” Tom whispered. Or it was a little too loud to be a whisper for a very paranoid and guilty Alex. He quickly pushed at Tom’s chair so the boy beside him would lose his balance and distract him. That gave Alex enough time to close his VDI and pretend to struggle as he reviewed his already completed worksheet.

Tom didn’t buy it. “Alex, you know something we don’t.” He had whispered to him soon after students started to file out of the classroom.

Tom was his best friend in Brookland. Within a few minutes of listening to Tom’s outrageous theories and rants, Alex finally caved in and requested for Tom’s USB. Within a day, he had copied that file to Tom’s USB and the latter had it installed on his laptop, just in time for their next exam.

Tom looking a little too relaxed for the next exam was what set off alarms for the whole class. Tom had a secret he didn’t want to share and somehow the class knew. No one just became above average overnight. Especially someone like Tom.

Alex was approached a few days after he had given Tom a copy of the file. It was when he had passed by the toilet which was reserved for things other than conventional uses of the toilet, did he run into someone who reeked of whatever they smoked inside.

“I have a business proposition for you,” he said, a whiff of smoke following suit.

                                              Hacker

A week passed and suddenly everyone was finishing their exams thirty minutes earlier. The teachers had attributed it to the effects of a good MDM. Alex’s wallet was a little heavier so he wasn’t complaining.

That was until he found a black sedan in front of his home with a man in a suit and a quick message from Mrs. Jones.

The ride to Mrs. Jones office was been silent, save for a terse “go in!” as soon as he arrived in front of her office. He heard venom in that voice and was sure she was at least trying to be polite but was probably seething.

Mrs. Jones did not waste any time. “MDMs are an important part of national security Alex.”

“Yes. I’m aware of that.”

“Then what am I hearing about a mass production of VDIs packaged externally.”

Alex shouldn’t have been surprised that she found out about it. He found cold chill brush through him as she pointed it out. “Where did you hear that?”

“We had to investigate the suddenly very impressive results of the students in quizzes over a three week period. And they traced it to one school, Brookland.” Mrs. Jones glared at him accusingly. “You can’t just hack into MDMs!”

Alex brought his hands up defensively. “Why do you suddenly think it’s me?”

“Alex, no boy your age just suddenly stops watching porn for a month."

A week later, all devices were wiped and all USBs ceased. The damage had been done.

At least Alex got to keep the money.

[onyxinc]

          𝙰𝙲𝙲𝙴𝚂𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙶   𝙾𝙿𝙰𝙻  𝚂𝙾𝙲𝙸𝙴𝚃𝚈  𝙰𝚁𝙲𝙷𝙸𝚅𝙴𝚂  .  .  .

                                          𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚃𝙸𝙽𝚄𝙴  ?                                                  𝚈  /  𝙽

ACCESSING  FILE   .   .   .   OPAL STATS

name  :  ingrid  wén

gender  /  pronouns   :   cis  woman   /   she&her

age   :   fifty -  one  year  old

hometown   :   barnet,   london,   england

current  whereabouts   :   unknown

year  of  graduation  :  1991

major  :  neuroscience  and  global  studies

lineage  :  onyx

marital  status  :  single

orientation   :   homosexual,   homoromantic.

occupation  :  field  agent,   secret  intelligence  service   (   mi6   )

face  claim   :   lucy  liu

ACCESSING  FILE   .   .   .   BIOGRAPHY

          long  before  her  time  in  the  secret  intelligence  service,   ingrid  considered  her  background  classified.   it’s  not  as  though  she’s  ashamed  of  her  past  or  suffered  some  sort  of  unspeakable  tragedy  one  might  refuse  to  talk  about.   she  simply  prefers  to  keep  the  important  things  private,   and  her  family  is  no  expection.   the  daughter  of  two  first - generation  chinese  immigrants,   ingrid  grew  up  in  northern  london  in  a  loving,   working - class  household.   her  parents  were  older  than  most  of  her  peers’,   having  had  her  later  in  life,   but  other  than  that,   her  childhood  was  relatively  ordinary    —   if  not  a  little  boring.

          from  the  very  start,   ingrid  was  the  type  to  reach  for  the  highest  rung.   if  she  wanted  gymnastics  lessons,   she  would  spend  her  evenings  scrubbing  floor  mats  to  afford  them.   if  she  wanted  a  brand - new  bicycle,   she’d  sit  her  parents  down  and  deliver  a  well - mannered  presentation  as  to  its  mutual  usefulness.   and  when  she  set  her  sights  on  a  university  far  outside  their  financial  means   —   she  made  it  happen.   her  first  year  at  strathmore  was  strictly  business,   what  with  the  ambitious  double  major  she’d  declared   (   what  ingrid  desires,   ingrid  achieves   ),   and  her  academic  prowess  and  tight - lipped  demeanor  caught  the  eye  of  her  predecessor.   the  opal  society  wasn’t  something  she  even  knew  she  wanted  until  it  was  dangled  like  a  carrot  before  her  eyes     —   perhaps  that  was  the  appeal.

          circlet  bonding  didn't  exactly  come  easy  to  ingrid.   her  fellow  prodigies  came  from  such  starkly  different  backgrounds  to  her  own.   they  were  rambunctious,   entitled  from  years  of  pampering  and  silver  spoons   —   known  to  speak  ten  words  when  a  meager  two  would  suffice.   in  her  most  jaded  moments,   she  thought  it  might  be  the  onyx  curse  to  always  be  on  the  outside  looking  in,   an  eagle - eyed  observer  perched  high  among  the  flock.   that’s  not  to  say  it  was  all  bad.   it  was  during  the  instruction  period  that  ingrid  felt  the  most  challenged,   expertly  conquering  each  insurmountable  task  thrown  her  way.   in  the  meantime,   she  began  to  collect,   learning  to  wield  the  power  of  deduction  to  her  advantage.   she  absorbed  secrets  like  a  sponge  and  stored  her  rolodex  of  findings  in  the  safest  place  she  knew   —   her  mind.

          soon  enough,   the  previous  circlet  had  graduated  and  she  was  moving  her  designer  luggage   (   a  hush - gift  from  a  certain  professor  she  happened  to  have  dirt  on   )   into  the  manor,   occupying  the  bedroom  she’d  rightfully  earned  the  year  before.   her  circlet  became  her  surrogate  family,   though  you’d  have  to  pin  her  down  and  torture  the  words  out  of  her  before  she’d  readily  admit  it.   despite  the  tenderness  she’d  developed  for  them  during  instruction,   she  continued  to  keep  them  at  an  arm’s  length,   but  she  was  always  watching   —   a  silent  protector,   ready  to  leap  into  action  at  a  moment’s  notice.   instead  of  feeling  morose  over  the  distance  she’d  placed  between  herself  and  the  rest  of  the  world,   it  made  her  feel  powerful.   omnipotence  fit  ingrid  like  a  glove,   and  she  took  pride  in  confidently  knowing  that  whatever  mess  her  circlet  had  gotten  themselves  into,   she’d  be  able  to  get  them  out.

          fresh  out  of  university,   ingrid  already  had  a  job  lined  up  at  a  premiere  research  hospital  in  zurich,   but  all  that  changed  when  she  was  approached  at  graduation  by  a  recruiter  for  mi6.   the  secret  intelligence  service  had  been  scouting  her  for  a  while  now  and  extended  an  invitation  to  join  their  ranks,   but  ingrid  had  had  her  fill  of  top - secret  organizations for  a  while.   she  politely  turned  them  down  and  went  on  her  way,   but  it  didn’t  last  long.   she’s  always  felt  most  at  home  in  the  shadows  and  the  harsh  fluorescents  of  the  lab  made  her  feel  all  too  exposed,   so  the  next  time  SIS  sent  a  recruiter  her  way,   she  up  and  joined  their  ranks.

          nearly  thirty  years  later,    ingrid  continues  to  live  and  breathe  secret - keeping.   she’s  made  herself  indispensable  to  the  service  and  is  one  of  their  most  reputable  agents,   well - known  for  her  quiet  intensity  and  ability  to  get  the  job  done,   no  questions  asked.   with  a  wealth  of  resources  and  connections  at  her  fingertips  from  her  employ  and  time  in  the  society,   she’s  not  above  playing  dirty  and  using  leverage  to  optimize  her  chances  of  success.   when  it  comes  to  her  personal  life,   ingrid  is  fifty - one  years  old  and  happily  single,   most  at  ease  with  the  company  of  herself,   her  work,   and  her  russian  blue  cat,   mikhail.   while  she  doesn’t  keep  in  touch  with  her  circlet  in  the  traditional  sense   (   the  discreet  nature  of  her  career  path  doesn’t  allow  for  social  media,   not  that  she  ever  saw  the  appeal   ),   they  know  that  if  they  ever  truly  need  her,   she’ll  be  there.

[loriane-elmuerto]

Time to kick off the MW 2019 timeline with some LORE

Lauren Gilbert - SAS operative, joined the British Army the same year as Kyle. Both rose through the ranks, eventually partnering up in the SAS. Gained notoriety when she passed Selection and escaped the RTI exercise with Kyle. Both became members of Bravo team after the events at Piccadilly Circus.

Amelia Mason - CIA agent, placed in operations under Laswell's command. This eventually led to her being paired up with Alex on the field. When Armistice falls, Amelia becomes an active field operator. Laswell sends her to keep tabs on the 141, but Amelia takes matters into her own hands, believing the Captain has everything under control. Becomes a target of Perseus' agents after she starts conducting an investigation of her own.

Jamie Fell - US Army Ranger, 75th Ranger regiment. Working under the command of Sgt. Foley. An expert mechanic and an expert driver. With subtle pressure from Agent Mason, he was pulled from his tour to help stop the crisis in Verdansk. Griggs took notice of his talents and requisitioned Fell to his team, which is how Jamie became a close ally of the 141.

RELATIONSHIPS:

Amelia and Lauren - met each other during Lauren's first year in the SAS when she had an OP with Alex and Amelia. The two quickly found common talk and developed a sisterly bond, sharing the mutual headache of watching Alex's back.

Amelia and Jamie - twin siblings. Very tight relationship, the years spent apart in different service branches has not diminished that bond. Captain Price has noted that they're professionals all by themselves, but together, they're an exceptional pair.

Lauren and Jamie - became acquainted during Lauren's first year as an SAS operative, thanks to Amelia. The pair considers her their best friend "on the other side of the pond", and vice versa. Once the teams are dispatched on Verdansk, rumors suggest something deeper developing between operatives Gilbert and Fell.

BONUS: Amelia and Adelaide Kane - Amelia, once she rose through the ranks and "bent" Laswell's arm, got access to the old files relating to the hunt of Perseus. In 2019, the legend is yet to be uncovered, and Perseus agents decide to target Agent Mason, intending to silence her. Amelia decides to have a chat with the surviving members of the original team. Among the members is their family friend, the retired MI6 agent Adelaide Kane.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Can I ask F, for Old Dog?? ♡

FanFic Ask Game

F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it. Ohhhhh...This is hard. Lemme think. *Spongebob French-accented announcer voice*: Twelve hours later... Okay after skimming basically the entire story, I'm torn between two, but I've settled on this, from Sea Air:

"If you did retire,” He offers after a moment, “What would it look like?” You’re silent for a long moment, thinking. You aren’t quite sure how to answer; you don’t think you really want to. The prospect of retirement is truly not one that you entertain often, if at all. It feels as dangerous as thinking about James in this homey environment once did. But now, you find yourself in bed with him in a sea-side cottage. So, what’s the harm in thinking about it? What would your retirement look like? “…I don’t know,” You admit, shaking your head a little bit. You tip your head to the side, look at James. “What about you? What would yours look like?” James purses his lips; his brow furrows, and his eyes squint a touch. “…I’m not sure I know, either,” He manages almost bashfully, glancing at you, “I used to know; I have tried. There was a time when I thought I knew exactly what it was I wanted out of retirement.” “What did it look like then?” “…Italian,” James says after a moment. You know that there’s more there, but you don’t need him to tell you about Vesper Lynd. She’d long been part of his lore when you’d met the man, when you’d sill considered him a legend. Frankly, that’s one passage of rough water that you’re not sure you could handle his steering you through just now. You don’t ask what happened, what changed. You know the answers. You just nod, pat his cheek, and urge, “Keep me posted.”

The reason I chose this passage is because while the two of them sort of innately understand one another, and this allows for a lot to remain unsaid between there, there is so much that neither of them will let themselves say. Pup has always been at an advantage when it comes to information. She's known about Bond from his time before her in the Navy and MI6—he had this 'legendary' status to her when they first met, and there was this almost air of celebrity to him for her. James doesn't quite have that for Pup. He can access her files, he can ask Moneypenny and Q and Tanner about her, sure, but she's not this fabled figure in the organizations in the way that he is. And it's for this reason that they'll kind of open the doors to these conversations, but neither of them will really walk through them. They both tend to stand at the threshold and project what they think stands at the other side. Bond maybe hopes that he knows what Pup's retirement plan would look like—he can hope that it looks like this, the two of them, safe and cozy, in the way that she's imagined him before, and has him now. He's opened the door to the conversation, but he doesn't press—Would you stay here, would you go somewhere else? What would you do with your time? Pup can ask what Bond's retirement plan used to look like, and he can say "Italian," and she doesn't have to press for an answer or hope that he'll give more of an answer—because she already knows what's back there. She has the upper hand in a lot of their interpersonal interactions, even if she doesn't feel that, purely because Bond has been help up as this hallmark of what not to do while you're a double oh. And it almost puts them at odds with one another. Because Pup may think that she knows the story, may know what went down, but she's not really getting Bond's perspective. She has third-party information. If Pup had walked through that door, if she'd had an open and honest conversation with Bond in that moment about Vesper, about loss—loss in the way that Bond knows Pup has experienced with Mitchell Chapman: being betrayed by and then losing a former lover—it could've been a real moment of strengthening in their relationship. But neither of them press. The doors get opened, but both of them are already so afraid of being inside the house together that neither of them step through. And they think that pressing the other for a real answer might push the other away entirely. So. They're just meant to keep one another posted.