Q

[0_0_7]

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

That was the last thing he'd said befor there was gunfire and the communication shut down. He was on the top floor and Q was in the server room in the basement. The insurgent force had been pared down to four, they thought, and Bond had killed one on his way to the lift. So three. There could be as many as three in the basement with Q doing god only knew what.

He needed to get down, and fast.

Bond forced the lift doors open and jumped into the shaft. He attached the grappler to the cable and held on, his shoes riding the cable as well as his own weight carried him down, down, down. He only stopped when he hit the cross beam that straddled the coiled sping.

Then all he had to do was get the doors open without getting shot...

Bond was driven by a need to get to Q. The silence in his earpiece was maddening.

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[quartermaster_q]

He'd been so close to finishing the job when the three men came in, one grabbing him right before another knocked him out and dragged him away.

The third stayed behind, waiting for Bond, his gun drawn and aimed at the door.

[0_0_7]

The lift door opened and before Bond could even peek out there were gun shots. Two in rapid succession, then Bond peeked out. One form him, one from the foe, then Bond's next shot didn't miss.

"Q!" he shouted, rushing into the room. The emergency exit was ajar and he dashed for the insurgents' escape route in hot pursuit.

[quartermaster_q]

When he came to, he was in a van. ...At least he assumed it was a van- He couldn't really see with the bag they'd put over his head.

His hands were bound, but when he shifted slightly, he managed to activate his tracker. With any luck, that would lead Bond right to him.

It wasn't until a few moments later that he realized he wasn't alone in the back of the moving van. A pair of hands pawed at him, groping his thigh and casually keeping him close. The driver spoke, but Q didn't know the language, and he chose to remain silent and still.

The fact that they hadn't confiscated his tech left him nervous. They were either dreadful at taking a hostage, or simply using him as bate- Intending to leave him to die in the middle of nowhere while Bond played fetch- Giving them time to get their tech out and into a new location.

[0_0_7]

Bond was on the comm to R and she pinpointed Q as on the move. Bond dashed to the Range Rover and took off in pursuit. R tried to keep him calm but she just didn't have the same skills Q had.

"What way?" he demanded and R was clearly flustered dealing with Bond so intent on a target. "R, I need you to figure out what channel we can use to get through to Q's comm. If he's still wearing it I need to talk to him."

"Bond, you need to be prepared for..."

"Do it!"

[quartermaster_q]

It felt like forever before the van stopped, rough hands jerking him out of the vehicle and letting him hit the ground.

The men spoke to one another, but again, Q had no idea what they were saying. He only knew it sounded as though they were arguing.

There was static in his com, no doubt R attempting to repair communications- And then there was a gunshot and sharp pain in his abdomen. ...Despite being in agony, he had to give the pair credit. They knew what they were doing. The wound wasn't deadly- No, the bullet wouldn't be his end. Instead it would give him ample time to bleed out while six searched for him. A perfect distraction that would buy them the time they needed to backup their files and vanish again.

It left Bond with a very clear choice- Finish the job, or retrieve Q. There wouldn't be time to do both.

[0_0_7]

Q's tracker was the only lead they had. Of course they could dump him, but it would be stupid to lose a quality hostage. Bond wasn't sure they were all that smart when it became clear Q wasn't moving anymore.

"Q?" he said when the static seemed to clear, but the crackle in his ear told him that wasn't going to get him anywhere. He drove to what appeared to be an airfield and rolled in slowly, anticipating gunshots.

Near a hangar he saw a helicopter with its blades starting up. He pulled out a high powered machine gun,

"R, is Q on the move?" he asked.

"No, Bond. He's where you are, but still."

That was all he needed to hear. Bond rushed to the hangar and was greeted with a hail of gunfire. There was a van inside, the back doors open and a form on the floor. The gunshots began to retreat and Bond rushed forward.

"I think I've found Q. There's blood," he said, but he rushed past the body. Such was the nature of the job. He couldn't save everyone.

Bond ran through the hangar and out onto the tarmac. The insurgents climbed into the copter and it began to rise. Bond leveled the machine gun at them and fired spray after spray as he ran toward it. If he could get the running board...

But it was already too high. Bond continued firing and he hit the rear rotor and the fuel tank. The helicopter began to lose control and come down. Bond ran for the safety of the hangar. He just barely made it to the door when the copter crashed in a ball of flame, sending him diving for safety.

The force of the blast left him unconscious.

"Bond?" R said in the comm. "Double O Seven, report..."

[quartermaster_q]

Q could hear voices in his ear, faint and static-y. He could feel heat from a blast, he could hear something loud- the Earth shaking...

He was fading though, he could feel it.

"If someone can hear me," he said, coughing a bit, then starting again. "If someone can hear me... Tell double-o seven- Tell Bond..."

There was a pause, and another cough- Then a quiet gasp of pain.

"...No. Tell James. Tell James to keep coming home."

Even in pain, even as his body slowly gave up, Q spoke in that crisp and posh tone. Familiar and steady- For Bond's sake. If the man couldn't hear him now, he'd surely hear the playback, and Q wanted to be remembered as he'd always been- Not as some simpering boffin.

[0_0_7]

Bond was out cold for quite some time, but the world came back to him and he shook it off. He was damned lucky there weren't more insurgents at the air strip. As he rose he could see people running to put the fire out but they had no interest in the hangar.

He staggered to the van and found Q looking pale as death. He took his pulse and it was weak and thready.

"I'm sorry, but you haven't got permission to die," he said, taking hold of Q to see if he could rouse him. He looked and the keys were still in the ignition of the van.

"R, I need the nearest medical facility. Now," he said and slammed the doors to jump in and drive.

[quartermaster_q]

Q was only dimly aware that someone was speaking to him. Even as the bag came off his head and fresh air hit his face, he struggled to focus.

He faded in and out, and when he woke again, he was back in the van- The front seat this time.

Blood soaked his shirt, and he felt dizzy- In fact, everything felt a bit dream like. ...As if he wasn't really there, but simply observing.

"Idiot," he managed to say, looking at Bond. Though who could say if he was insulting Bond or himself.

[0_0_7]

Bond was racing to the nearest triage center, what passed for medical in this corner of the world. He was racing the clock and he knew the chances of success were very slim.

"Don't talk," he barked. Then he laid on the gas and raced to the all night urgent care where they at least, thank god, had a med-evac.

[quartermaster_q]

Q wanted to argue that Bond couldn't tell him what to do, but it seemed reckless to be defiant now.

So he fell silent, struggling to stay alert... And then failing.

It was starting to look like they might not make it to the care centre in time.

[0_0_7]

They still had a mile to go before they'd even be to civilization. Bond looked over and Q was positively ashen and utterly slack.

"Q?" he called, reaching over with one hand to feel for a pulse. He found none. Bond pulled the van off the road and unbuckled, then unbuckled Q. He dragged the man's limp form to the cargo bed and bent over him. Hand on his chest, he started doing compressions.

"R, you've got to get an ambulance to us," he said. "Do you hear me? We're going to lose him if I stop CPR. You have to get an ambulance to us!"

"Right away, Bond. Keep...Keep working. Don't stop..." R said, scrambling to get what help she could to them.

"Q, god damn it, you can't die in this third world shit hole," he growled, forcing Q's heart to beat.

[quartermaster_q]

There was nothing for so long- and then suddenly Q was gasping- Not concious but alive. His heart beat, and his chest rose and fell a little, though he still looked grey and pale.

A moment later and a very old looking ambulance finally arrived, coming to a halt at their side.

[0_0_7]

Bond looked at the vehicle that had arrived for them out of the last century. The medics rushed the van and he was glad to see that no matter how antiquated the equipment, they seemed capable. THey moved Q onto a gurney, fixed him with wires and tubes, and immediately ran an IV to give him whole blood. Bond climbed into the ambulance, too, and off the went.

At the medical center there was one doctor who spoke English there from Doctors Without Borders, but he went back with Q to help stabilize him, Bond was left to rage at R through his ear piece and pace like a caged animal.

[quartermaster_q]

"Double-o seven, I don't think I can even get a translator out there now- They're shutting down the airports, no international flights. ...It's possible you're going to be there for at least a few days. The most I can do is make contact with our agents out there... They'll set you up with some basic weapons, and a safe house if you're still unable to return to London when, and if, Q recovers," R said quietly, trying to calm the double-o the way she'd seen Q manage in the past.

"If you like I could have some entertainment arranged for you, perhaps a fine meal... No reason to remain at the hospital. Q is in good hands."

[0_0_7]

"Don't talk to me like I'm an idiot. Entertainment? Food? Fuck off," he snapped.

"I'm just trying to help, double-o seven. I'll make the arrangements and have a local agent meet you, then."

She terminated transmission, then, leaving Bond to stew.

He paced and sat and paced and sat until one of the ambulance medics came out and bummed him a cigarette. That broke up the routine. They conversed in broken English, Bond picking up a few native words quickly, as he always did.

He was shit at waiting.

It was after midnight when the English speaking doctor emerged.

"He will live but he is in very bad condition. Tonight he will, stabile...how you say? Stabilize? And in the morning the Ambulance will take you to the capitol to the Republican Hospital."

"When can I get him out of the country?" Bond asked.

"Seventy two hours, minimum. He needs blood and fluid. His heart is...is very bad. Three days." He laid a hand on Bond's shoulder. "Come. You will sit with him."

[quartermaster_q]

It had felt as if he'd never be out of hospital. Days felt like weeks, and Q was restless and brooding by the time they let him leave. Though despite his desire to return directly to London, it quickly became apparent that wouldn't be happening.

"There's no flights until next week at the earliest, Q," Tanner had said gently, his voice crackling over the terrible connection. "I'm sorry. I've done my best to arrange decent accommodations, but it's important you lay low. You're in no fit state for a fight."

Which was why they were currently staying in what could only be described as a somewhat modernized hut, in the middle nowhere.

"How is it that when you get shot you wind up in a five star hotel- Yet I get shot, and I'm sent to a bloody hut?" Q asked.

[0_0_7]

"Don't be grouchy, Q. I got shot at home and you had the misfortune of getting shot on the edge of a jungle." He tried to sound light but the truth was that Bond was no more pleased than Q. He did like his five star hotels. But the problem with being white foreigners in this country right now was that you were a target. And this hut was the best protection they had. No one knew where they were save the agent who had delivered them here.

They had water, they had some food, and they had three cartons of cigarettes. And a deck of cards where the joker stood in for the queen of spades. It was going to be a long week.

"Just lay still. Take a nap, maybe."

[quartermaster_q]

"I don't want to nap. I'm restless," Q complained quietly. "God, I'm such an idiot. I can't believe I let those bastards sneak up on me. I never even heard them coming, James."

[0_0_7]

"I had no idea you'd be in any danger, either. It was a failure that won't happen again," Bond said. What he didn't want to say but that he couldn't get out of his head was that Q was bad luck in the field. Kept at headquarters, there was no one better to run him. But out in the field it seemed as if Bond spent half his energy trying to secure his handler.

But M gave the clearance and if M wanted Q in the field, so be it.

"We can play cards..." he offered.

[quartermaster_q]

It was as though Q could read Bond's mind though, and he was silent for a long moment before speaking.

"You think me a burden," he accused quietly.

[0_0_7]

"No," he replied. He could read Q's expression, though and he knew he wouldn't leave it at that. "I think you're a liability in the field."

[quartermaster_q]

Q bristled, then wet his lips.

"If I'd been in your ear, I'd have told you to leave me to die, and stay on site to finish the job," he replied coolly. "That's what you would have done with any other handler, isn't it? ...I'm not a liability, our relationship is," he decided.

[0_0_7]

"No, I work best alone. I tried to save Ronson, too, you know. You're not the first agent who's distracted me from the mission. And I couldn't get the package back so I did the next best thing bringing the helicopter down," he snapped.

[quartermaster_q]

"Then tell M you don't want me in the field any more," Q snapped.