The Prodigal Grandson
A feature length story by Mark Simpson
A sequel to Chris Pollard's Prodigal Son
featuring Ian Fleming's James Bond 007

Part of the Eighth Doctor Fiction collection

Prologue

European Space Agency Launch Facility, Kourou, French Guiana

"So, what's special about this launch?"

Professor Gail Jordan looked carefully at the man before her. He was handsome, elegant and certainly arrogant. He held himself with a confident air, as if nothing the world could throw at him would ruffle his composure in the slightest. She wondered if all agents of the British Secret Service were like this.

"The weather satellite we're putting up today has a revolutionary new predictive software package installed. If it runs to specification, it could change the face of weather forecasting forever."

"No more unexpected hurricanes off the Southern coast of England?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and smiling.

She shook her head. "The new software will also make seaweed and old wives tales a thing of the past," she stated firmly.

He yawned and stretched. She thought again about how handsome he was, then pushed the thought from her mind.

"If you don't want to be here, why not request another assignment from your boss?" she suggested.

"What makes you think I don't want to be here?" he asked. "How could I wish to be anywhere else after the warm and friendly reception you've given me?"

She nodded. "Touch. But when we requested increased security after receiving the tip off from the FBI that this launch might be a target for Arab fundamentalists, we were expected more than just one man."

"Sometimes one man can make a difference," he replied coolly.

"Well, pardon me Mr Band, but I was hoping for a squad of armed anti-terrorist troops at the very least."

"Bond," he said.

"Excuse me?"

"The name is Bond. James Bond. Not Band."

She looked away. "Sorry. Was only half listening when you introduced yourself." Damn, she thought, why did he have to be so handsome?

"That's alright," Bond said, smiling easily. "I'll accept a drink as an apology. Martini, shaken not stirred."

Gail Jordan smiled too. "I can't promise that, but I'll see what we can find."

***

"Not exactly what I had in mind," Bond said, staring into the mug of tea she had brought him.

"We only have a canteen here, not a fully stocked bar," she told him with a smile.

"Where did you study Meteorology?" Bond asked over his canteen tea.

"Oxford," replied Professor Jordan, running a hand through her short blonde hair. "I teach there too sometimes."

Bond nodded. "I was at Oxford."

She seemed interested. "Really? What did you study?"

Before he could reply there was a commotion from the kitchen area. Shouting and the smashing of plates and cups could be heard.

Bond was on his feet in an instant, his hand reaching for the Walther PPK strapped under his jacket.

"Don't worry," Gail told him, her hand on his arm. "It's only a dispute over the menu. It happens from time to time."

Bond had almost relaxed when a gunshot sounded from the kitchen.

He was through the swing doors, gun in hand and feet braced apart, ready for action. But all that greeted him was the site of a uniformed man, face down on the floor, with a pool of red spreading over the white tiles beneath him.

A side door creaked open and Bond whirled towards the sound, but it was a young local woman. She dashed over to the body and fell to her knees, crying.

"What happened?" Bond snapped.

"The man...gun...I...I..." the young woman stammered. Bond moved towards her, but Gail Jordan passed him, kneeling beside her.

"What happened here Michelle?" she asked soothingly.

The young woman made an effort to pull herself together. "Henri had stopped by for some coffee, when a delivery arrived. It wasn't the usual man, and when Henri challenged him, the man drew a gun and shot him!" She began crying again.

"Ask her what happened to the man," Bond prompted, keeping a watch on all the doors, just in case.

Professor Jordan relayed the question to the distraught Michelle.

"He went through the other door, towards the launch pad," the young woman replied.

Bond nodded. "Stay here," he told Gail. "I'll follow him."

As he made for the door, Gail spoke. "James, be careful."

He turned in the doorway and favoured her with a charming smile. "Always."

***

Out in the late afternoon sunshine, Bond scanned the rocket on the launch pad. Near the bottom of the support tower was a lift car. The car was moving slowly towards the top of the rocket.

There's my man, Bond thought grimly. Tucking his gun back into its holster, he set off across the space between him and the tower.

When he arrived at the bottom, the lift was stationary at the level of the fuel input. Knowing that calling the lift back to the ground would call attention to himself, Bond began to climb the scaffolding.

Good job I brought a light suit, he thought as he climbed, reaching the underside of the lift car. Set into the base was a hatch, which he cautiously raised.

The gunman had his back to the hatch. So far so good. Carefully, Bond opened the hatch fully and pulled himself noiselessly into the lift car.

The man seemed to be attaching a device to the exterior of the rocket around the main fuel tank area. An explosive device.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Bond said loudly.

The man turned, to see himself covered by a man in a suit holding a gun. He smiled slightly.

"You cannot risk shooting me, not this close to the fuel tank. If you miss, Boom! We all go to meet Allah together."

"Hmm," Bond mused. "Seems you got me there." He lowered his gun slightly.

Which was when the man dived forwards, taking Bond down in a classic Rugby tackle. His Walther PPK spun away, towards the edge of the lift platform.

Quickly, Bond put his hands together and brought them down strongly on his opponent's neck. But the man was strong and a moment later Bond's head was rocked back by a solid punch to the jaw.

Rolling with the punch, he managed to break free from his attacker. But he also found himself on the edge of the lift platform.

Seeing a possible advantage, the terrorist rushed over, intent on pushing Bond over the edge to his certain death.

But at the last minute Bond rolled again, away from the edge. Unable to halt his forward momentum, the terrorist stepped over the edge.

At the last moment, his hand caught part of the support tower, saving him from the fall. But now the advantage was with Bond.

The Englishman looked quickly around, seeing where his gun lay. He grasped it with some relief, turning back to the terrorist.

Who had recovered his balance enough to swing a wild kick towards Bond's head. Moving at the last possible moment, the shoe caught Bond a glancing blow to his left temple.

Pain exploded behind his eyes. A wave of nausea passed over him and all he wanted to do was lie down until it passed. But one moment of weakness now and he would be dead. Calling on all his reserves of strength, he focused and shot in one smooth motion.

For a trained marksman it wasn't a perfect shot, but under the circumstances he would probably have been forgiven. As it was, the shot caught the terrorist in the left shoulder, spinning the man bodily around.

For a long moment the man remained right there, teetering on the edge of the platform with the ground far below. Then Bond's foot in his back sent him to meet that ground.

The man's piercing cry was cut off quickly and a dull thud from below signalled that he wouldn't be any more trouble.

Bond peered over the edge anyway, just to make sure. "He should have taken the stairs," he muttered.

Taking a moment to calm his still spinning head, he was about to start down in the lift when he remembered something he hadn't taken care of. The bomb.

It was a fat lozenge shape, attached to the outer hull of the rocket by a magnetic clamp that would probably detonate the bomb instantly if removed. A timer set into the outer casing counted down the time until detonation.

00:01:49

Just under two minutes until it went off. Enough time to stop the explosion somehow.

As quickly as his still foggy brain would go, he ran through the latest gimmicks Q had given him before he set out on this mission. The ballpoint pen grenade wouldn't be much use right now. Neither would the garrotting wire in his cufflinks or the poison darts built into his cigarette lighter.

00:01:32

Reaching into the top pocket of his jacket, he found his sunglasses and slipped them on.

An x-ray picture of the bomb formed on the inside of the lenses. He blessed Q for his inventiveness and scanned the device.

He was surprised to find it very unsophisticated. No rocker switches, tremblers or other booby traps. It was safe just to remove and throw away.

00:00:58

Bond reached out and grasped the bomb, intent on pulling it free from its position stuck to the hull. But the device stubbornly refused to budge!

Readjusting his grip, Bond tried again. The heat and the recent fight had caused him to perspire, making his hands damp. They slipped of the bomb.

00:00:42

Quickly he tried drying his hands on his suit jacket. But the light material was shiny and not very absorbant. Cursing softly, he reached for his handkerchief.

00:00:29

His hands now dry, Bond got a good grip on the bomb and pulled.

After aggonising seconds the device came free in his hands, causing him to stagger back slightly. Retaining his balance, he looked at the digital timer one last time.

00:00:08

Putting his arm back over his head, Bond took the very short run up that the lift platform allowed him and flung the bomb as far away from the rocket as possible, before dropping to the floor and covering his head.

The bomb described a graceful arc over the grounds of the launch site. As the countdown clock reached zero, a brilliant fireball erupted in the sky.

Shrapnel rained around Bond for a few seconds. He looked up to see the dying smoke clear from the blue sky.

Rising to his feet, he dusted down his trousers and set the lift control into the down position. "Time to finish that tea, I think," he said to himself.

Part One - Happenstance

Room 212, The Hotel de Paris, Kourou, French Guiana

"Anti-cyclone." Kiss. "Scattered rain showers." Kiss. "Gale force ten, imminent." Kiss.

"Oh, James," whispered Gail Jordan. "I love it when you talk technical to me."

An insistent beeping from the pocket of Bond's trousers cut across any reply.

"Don't answer it," Gail pleaded softly.

From the look on his face, Bond seriously considered her request. For about two seconds. Then he sighed.

"I'll have to answer, it's the office," he replied sadly. Rolling off the bed, he searched around for his trousers.

He finally located them half under the bed and pulled the mobile phone clear. Activating it, he heard the voice he was expecting on the other end.

"Moneypenny, what a pleasant surprise."

"James, where are you?"

Bond looked around, at the hotel room, the bed, Gail, and decided on the vague approach. "I'm still in Kourou."

"Well, M wants you back here right away. There's a flight leaving in an hour and she wants you on it."

"Must you go, James?" Gail Jordan asked, running a smooth hand down his back.

"I must," he said regretfully, holding his hand over the phone.

But it seemed Moneypenny had still heard. "Who are you with James?"

"Erm, Professor Jordan, the meteorologist."

"Ah, yes, why doesn't that surprise me?" Moneypenny said. "I've seen her file photo. Are you experiencing a warm front?"

Bond faked a shocked expression. "Moneypenny, I'm surprised at you. You know there's only one girl for me."

"Only one girl at a time," she shot back. "And if office gossip is to be believed, that's not always the limit! Now, the clock is ticking James. I'll see you in a few hours."

The phone clicked as the receiver at the other end was replaced. Bond looked at the phone in disbelief. "She didn't even say goodbye."

He looked over at Gail Jordan, who was pouting back at him.

"I suppose this is where you say you'll call me," she said with obvious regret.

"I will call you," Bond replied firmly, hunting around the floor for his socks. Pulling his jacket over, he reached inside for his wallet and produced a card. "Here's my mobile number. You won't be staying out here forever. When you get back to England, call me."

She brightened visibly. "Thank you, James. I'll do that."

He smiled as he buttoned his shirt. "Good. I look forward to it." He shrugged his jacket on and headed for the door. "See you back home."

"Goodbye, James," she called as the door swung closed behind him.

The Time/Space Vortex

The Doctor rested his hands on the oak panel of the TARDIS and smiled across at his companion. "Where to, Charley?"

The young woman gave the impression of deep thought. "Well, we've done deep space, future Earth and alien civilisation." A pause. "I know! Why not try and get me to my rendezvous at the Singapore Hilton? You know, the one you promise every time we're going to."

The Doctor sighed. "Yes, we do seem to have got a little side-tracked, don't we? Very well, Singapore it is!" He began turning the wooden blocks on the console, muttering to himself as he did so. "Earth. Humanian Era. October 1930." He moved to another panel, refining the destination further. "Southern Hemisphere. Eastern Seaboard. Singapore." With a flourish like a concert pianist, he pushed home a big brass lever and the note of the engines changed slightly.

"We're on our way?" Charley asked. She had been aboard the time vessel for a while now, but was still getting used to the fact that something that looked like a cross between a Jules Verne submarine and a H.G. Wells rocket ship, was in fact a time and space craft from a fantastically advanced culture. And that the Doctor, for all his human appearance, was an alien.

The Doctor consulted his gold pocket watch. "We should be there in ten minutes," he replied confidently.

Charley grinned. "Good. Just enough time to change." She dashed from the room, heading for her own quarters.

British Intelligence Headquarters, London

Bond pushed open the door casually, hanging his umbrella on the hatstand.

"James, what kept you? M is going up the wall!"

"Hello, Moneypenny, it's nice to see you as well."

Moneypenny flushed slightly. "Welcome home, James. We got your report from Kourou. M was very pleased with your actions."

"I was quite satisfied with the operation myself," Bond replied with a half smile.

"Oh yes, your friendly meteorologist. I suppose you lifted her depression?"

Bond held up his hands in mock surrender. "Moneypenny, it was a high pressure situation!"

"I thought you looked like you had been under the weather!"

"Ahem."

They both turned at the sound of a throat being cleared. M stood in the doorway of her office, her expression not a happy one.

"If you two have finished with the weather report, I would like to see Commander Bond in my office now."

"Of course," Moneypenny said, looking down at her desk in embarrassment.

"You're late," M told Bond as he walked towards her door. "Why?"

Bond's lips twitched upwards. "Takeoff was delayed. Unexpected bad weather!"

He heard Moneypenny snigger as he stepped through into the lion's den.

M settled herself behind the large desk in her office. She waited a few moments before inviting Bond to take a seat opposite her.

"What do you remember of the Goldfinger affair?" she asked.

Bond considered for a moment. "It was a long time ago," he commented. "Seems like lifetimes." He smiled, as if at a joke.

"Did you know that Auric Goldfinger left a family behind?"

"No, but I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Are they significant?"

"We didn't think so, until now. Obviously, after Fort Knox, we looked closer into his background. We watched the remaining members of his family. His son took over what was left of the business empire, tried to stabilise it before it crumbled away to nothing. And he had a small degree of success. He died nine years ago and his son took over what had once again become a thriving group of companies. Since then Goldfinger Holdings have gone from strength to strength, becoming world leaders in numerous technology led fields."

"I assume this is leading somewhere?"

"I'm coming to that," M replied. She pushed a brown manila folder across the desk to Bond. "Michael Auric Goldfinger, grandson of the man you killed at Fort Knox in the mid sixties. Doesn't show his grandfather's obsession with all things gold, but in recent years he has purchased a number of business concerns linked to the manufacture and distribution of gold. Security companies that transport it, banks that purchase it, mines that produce it."

Bond was studying the folder, which gave a list of the companies owned by Goldfinger Holdings. There was also a profile of Michael Auric Goldfinger, along with a photo.

He was in his early thirties, with short blond hair and a ready smile. He seemed to possess an athletic build in the picture Bond was looking at.

"Still doesn't seem that suspicious," Bond said, closing the file and handing it back.

"A week ago a gold shipment was being transferred from a Swiss bank to The Bank of England. The company charged with carrying the shipment was Security Express, a firm belonging to Goldfinger Holdings. The gold was checked out by an official of the bank in Switzerland, a trusted employee of twenty years standing. When it arrived here it was similarly checked and everything was thought to be in order."

"I'll take a guess that everything wasn't in order."

"You would guess correctly, Commander. Within a day of the shipment arriving, it had been replaced by ingots of a dull, grey metal."

"What type of metal?" Bond asked.

"Government scientists have been unable to determine that at this time," M told him.

Bond frowned. "You think Goldfinger Junior is picking up where Grandad left off?"

"It seems that way," M admitted. "I want you to watch him, make contact, see what you can learn about him and his operations."

Bond steepled his fingers. "Where is he now?"

"Singapore. He has a smelting works over there, as well as a warehousing and distribution business in Hong Kong."

"I suppose you've booked me on the next flight to Singapore then?"

"Again, you suppose correctly." M handed him an envelope. "Your air ticket and passport. The plane leaves in two hours from Heathrow. You're booked into the Singapore Hilton, three floors below Goldfinger's penthouse suite. He also owns the hotel."

Bond smiled. "Why am I not surprised?" He rose from his chair. "I'll keep you informed of anything I find."

"Good. Oh, and one more thing, though I suppose it's little use me saying it."

"Be careful?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I hate losing agents. Even those who can, shall we say, be easily replaced?"

Bond smile widened. "I'm rather enjoying this body. I have no intention of trading it in just yet."

The Doctor's TARDIS, Singapore

The Doctor consulted his pocket watch once again as the noise of materialisation filled the console room. "Hmm. Seems you're slowing up a little, old girl," he murmured, patting the wooden console affectionately.

Charley entered the room, grinning from ear to ear. She was wearing a pale blue ankle length dress and matching shoes.

"Well, what do you think?" she asked, turning a full circle for him.

"Very nice," he replied with a smile. He operated the door control and offered her his arm. "Shall we?"

They stepped out of the time machine, onto a busy and smog filled street. Charley coughed at the unexpected pollution.

"Looks like you've got it wrong again, Doctor!" she said accusingly.

The Doctor was looking around them, taking in their surroundings. "No, not exactly," he replied.

"What do you mean, not exactly? This doesn't look much like Singapore 1930."

"It isn't, but it is Singapore in the early 21st Century," he explained. "No wonder the TARDIS took almost twelve minutes for the journey!"

"Ah. So we're in the right place, just the wrong time. You missed by about seventy years."

"That's right," he said with a smile. "A simple mistake anybody could make."

"No, Doctor, it's a mistake only you could make," Charley replied, matching his smile.

The Doctor was still looking around. "Look, there's the Hilton. Do you want to see what it looks like seventy plus years after your time?"

"Why not? It's not many people who get a glimpse of their own future."

The two of them set off walking still arm in arm, towards the Singapore Hilton.

The Singapore Hilton Casino

Bond looked over his spectacles at his quarry. The young man was sitting at the blackjack table, slowly but steadily increasing the size of the pile of chips in front of him. Two younger women were standing at his shoulders, watching the action on the table with expressions of pleasure.

The opponent threw in his cards and got up from the table, his funds drained. Bond saw his chance and approached the table, sliding into the vacated seat.

The young man looked up. Bond studied him across the table. There was a slight resemblance to his Grandfather, Bond thought. But not too much. Goldfinger Junior was very much his own man and his confident bearing confirmed that.

"I should warn you, I'm on a pretty hot streak," Michael Goldfinger informed his new opponent.

"That's fine. I've been told I've got a lucky face."

Goldfinger smiled. "Then I guess we'll see whose luck holds the strongest."

Bond slid his spectacles back up his nose, but didn't reply.

The cards were dealt, one face up, one face down. Goldfinger was showing the Queen of Diamonds, Bond the Jack of Hearts.

But through his x-ray glasses, courtesy of Q and using the same technology as the sunglasses he had used at Kourou, Bond could also see that Goldfinger's remaining card was the seven of clubs, while Bond had the Ace of Spades up his sleeve.

"I'll stay with what I have and bet one thousand," Bond decided.

Goldfinger nodded. "I'll see you thousand." He flipped over the seven of clubs.

Bond revealed his Ace of Spades, smiling slightly as he accepted his winnings.

"Beginners luck?" Goldfinger wondered aloud.

"Possibly," Bond replied. "We'll have to see whose luck holds the strongest."

Two more cards each. This time Goldfinger had the advantage, holding the King of Hearts and the ten of Diamonds, while Bond had the nine of Diamonds and the seven of Spades.

But Bond's glasses could also show him the next card in the dealing shoe. It was the five of Diamonds.

"Hit me," he commanded the dealer, who gave him the card he needed.

Bond arched an eyebrow at his opponent. "I'll stick and bet two thousand."

Goldfinger whistled. "You are a confident man, Mister..."

"Smith," Bond replied, giving him the alias on his passport. "James Smith."

"Well, Mr Smith, I'll see your two thousand and raise you two thousand."

Bond nodded, seeming to contemplate his next move. He reached for his stack of chips. "I'll match your two thousand and raise you a further thousand."

"Confident or foolish, I wonder?" Goldfinger said. "I'll see your thousand. Now, what have you got?"

Bond flipped over his nine of Diamonds, to add to his five and seven. Goldfinger frowned as he turned over his ten.

"Seems you have more then beginners luck, Mr Smith."

"Like I said, I have a lucky face, Mister..."

"Goldfinger. Michael Auric Goldfinger."

"Unusual name, Auric," Bond commented, accepting his next two cards.

"It was my Grandfather's name," Goldfinger replied, checking his own cards.

He had the nine of Clubs and the ten of Hearts showing. Bond had the six of Spades and the Jack of Clubs showing.

And the next card in the shoe was the four of Spades.

"Hit me," Bond said to the dealer, who obliged.

Bond studied the remaining chips beside him. He pushed them all into the centre of the table. "I'll bet twenty three thousand." He smiled.

Goldfinger frowned deeply. He counted his chips. "Would you accept a cheque for the balance?"

Bond considered for a moment. "That would be perfectly fine."

Goldfinger reached into the pocket of his jacket and produced a chequebook. Swiftly he wrote a cheque for the amount he was short and pushed that, along with his remaining chips, into the centre of the table.

"I'll see your twenty three thousand. What have you got?"

Bond reached out lazily and turned his hidden card, as Goldfinger did the same. Smiling, Bond claimed the chips and the cheque.

"You play well, Mr Smith," Goldfinger said. But under his calm exterior, Bond could see he was seething anger. And that was without using his x-ray glasses.

As much a bad loser as his Grandfather, Bond decided. Better quit now, unless I want to blow my cover completely.

"I like to win gracefully," he replied. "Thank you for the game, Mr Goldfinger."

"Any time, Mr Smith," Goldfinger said, watching as Bond left the table and went to the counter to cash in his chips. "Any time."

***

Bond was walking out of the casino, crossing the foyer as he headed for his room, when he felt the hand land on his shoulder.

He spun quickly, catching the arm and forcing it up behind the back of its owner. The green velvet clad back.

"Now, now, Yames, I'm beginning to think you're not pleased to see me."

Bond looked closer at the man he had by the arm. He was as tall as Bond, with collar length wavy chestnut hair and piercing green eyes. He looked to be in his mid thirties, though Bond had a feeling that could be very deceiving. Then he recognised the aspect of the man, if not the face.

"Doctor! You've changed again."

The Doctor smiled easily as Bond released him. He shook the agent firmly by the hand.

"Its good to see you again, old chap. I was a little worried last time I saw you. You were very quiet after I dropped you off."

Bond frowned slightly. "We all move on, Doctor," he replied evasively.

"Oh, where are my manners? This is my friend and travelling companion, Charley Pollard. Charley, this is Yamesbohbnd."

"Actually, I prefer Bond," he said, taking Charley's hand. "James Bond."

"Pleased to meet you," Charley responded. "Are you one of the Doctor's lot?"

Bond smiled. "You're very perceptive."

"James was a trained Time Lord assassin. He was sent on a mission to take out the leader of a rebel faction on a distant planet. But the wrong leader was killed, plunging the world and its neighbours into violent chaos. James took the blame and accepted exile on Earth as punishment. He works for British Intelligence."

Bond frowned. "Thank you for the reminder, Doctor."

"Sorry," the Doctor replied, realising he had made a social gaff. "I should have let you explain all that."

"No harm done," Bond said with a smile. "Its good to see you again, Doctor."

"I see you've been visiting your favourite haunt," the Doctor commented lightly, nodding towards the casino. "Fancy a game of whist?"

Bond laughed shortly. "I have no desire to lose to you at cards again, Doctor. You are far too lucky for my liking."

"Are you working on a mission now?" Charley asked the agent.

Bond considered saying no for a moment, but decided that it couldn't hurt to tell the truth. After all, these two were just passing through.

"Actually, I am. I've been watching and making contact with a potentially dangerous individual."

"Sounds very exciting," Charley said.

"Not really. Surveillance is probably the most boring aspect of the job. Now I will have to report my findings back to my boss."

"How is M these days?" the Doctor inquired.

"She's fine, thank you."

"She?" the Doctor said, surprised. "Well, we're not doing much at the moment. We could give you a lift back to London, if you like."

"Your TARDIS is nearby?"

"Just across the street. Whenever you're ready, Yames."

Bond nodded. "I just need to collect my luggage and pay the bill. I'll see you back here in ten minutes."

The Doctor's TARDIS, London

"You know, Doctor, you really should get this junkheap traded in for a more up to date model. I hear the Type 70's are quite sleek and impressive."

"The old girl has served me well all these years," the Doctor protested. "I have no need for fancy technology."

"That's certainly true!" Charley said with feeling.

The Doctor pushed the level that opened the main doors. "Well, she got us here, didn't she?"

"I should be thankful for that," Bond said, picking up the small case he had brought from Singapore. "M will be grateful for the saving of the fare home. She's taken the penny-pinching nature of the current administration to her hearts."

The Doctor turned to Charley. "She's another one of us," he told his companion.

"Gosh! How many Time Lords are there in British Intelligence?"

"Just the two," Bond replied as they left the TARDIS. "She's here to keep an eye on me. A kind of self imposed exile, you might say."

"I think she saw it rather more as retirement," the Doctor replied as he locked the door of the craft.

"Maybe so," Bond admitted. "Her office is this way." He led them across the car park where the TARDIS had materialised. He showed a pass card to a guard on the double doors and told him that the Doctor and Charley were with him. They still had to sign a register and undergo a scan, which they cleared.

Bond pushed open the door of a non-descript third floor office, placing his case underneath a hatstand.

"James! I wasn't expecting you back for at least another couple of days!"

"I managed to get a lift," Bond explained. "Hello Moneypenny. Did you miss me?"

"Do you think I spend all my time here worrying about you, pining for your return? Well I hate to disappoint you but I do have a life of my own."

The Doctor stepped through the door after Bond. "I'm very pleased to hear that, young lady. Are you going to introduce us, James?"

"Of course," Bond replied with a smile. "Moneypenny, this is the Doctor. Doctor, this is Moneypenny, M's secretary."

"Sorry, Doctor," she said, looking down. "I didn't know you were there."

"That's fine, don't worry about it," he told her. "By the way, this is my friend Charley Pollard."

"Hello," Charley said cheerfully, shaking Moneypenny's hand.

Moneypenny looked inquiringly at Bond. "Is M expecting visitors?"

"Not exactly, but she does know the Doctor," he replied. "Is she in?"

"Yes, though she has had a number of callers from the Bank of England over the last two days. I think the situation is getting worse."

Bond frowned. "I think you should let her know we're here."

Moneypenny pressed the intercom. "007 is here to see you, and he's got a couple of friends with him."

"Send them straight through," came the firm female voice from the speaker.

Moneypenny nodded to Bond, who knocked lightly on the inner door and pushed it open, letting the Doctor and Charley through.

Behind the desk was a stern looking woman with close cropped white hair. She looked up at the Doctor and Charley, squinting slightly as she scrutinised the Time Lord.

"Doctor?"

"Hello M, long time no see," the Doctor said, grinning and stepping forward, hand extended.

She accepted the hand and shook it. "I thought 007 was rather swift in his return home. You brought him in your TARDIS?"

"We met by chance in Singapore," the Doctor confirmed. "This is my current travelling companion, Charley Pollard."

"Hello," Charley said, stepping forward to have her hand shaken as well.

M settled back behind her desk. "Your arrival could be very timely, Doctor," she said.

"Really? You're having problems?"

"It's something I would be happy to have your advice on," she replied. She turned to Bond. "There have been more incidents."

"Moneypenny hinted that there had been," he admitted. "More gold switches?"

"Not switches exactly. There was another delivery of gold to the vaults under the Bank of England. An official checked the consignment over and left it in a locked vault. An hour later the same official came back, having left his pen behind, to find that the gold had turned into ingots of a plain, grey metal."

"Sounds like an alchemists nightmare," the Doctor commented.

M raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure I get the connection, Doctor."

"Turning gold into base metal," the Doctor explained. "It goes against everything the alchemist stands for."

"And there was no way anybody could have switched the gold?" Bond asked.

"No way at all. The vault was locked, there were motion sensors set into the floor. Nobody could have got in or out without setting off some kind of alarm. And we are getting rumours from around the World that these incidents are not isolated to Britain."

"Can we take a look at the vault?" the Doctor asked.

"Of course, I'll arrange it at once."

Vault 37, The Bank of England, London

The Doctor picked up one of the ingots, weighing it in his hand. He frowned slightly, then brought the metal up to his face, sniffing the bar. Finally he tapped the bar with his finger.

"Well, Doctor?" M inquired.

"It weighs the same as gold, but the smell and the texture are all wrong," he replied. "I did detect a trace of chemical scent, but I will need a fully equipped laboratory to check it further."

"Any facilities you need are at your disposal," M promised.

The Doctor nodded. "Can I take this with me?"

M looked over at the Bank official standing in the doorway of the vault. He nodded.

The Doctor grinned. "I'll return it, of course. I have little need for gold myself."

They left the vault, heading for the lift to take them up to ground level.

"What do you want me to do next?" Bond asked as they stepped into the lift.

"Well, Goldfinger has left Singapore, on his way to Switzerland, presumably to visit either the bank or the pharmaceutical company he owns there. After you've visited Q Branch to draw some new equipment, you're to take the tunnel and head for Zurich."

"My cover?"

"You're a businessman, looking to invest in the bank. I'll see to it that you have some gold to deposit. Traceable gold, obviously."

"Obviously," Bond replied. "Any back-up?"

"Well, I was hoping to set you up with a secretary, but there's nobody available right now."

"I'll go," Charley said suddenly.

Everybody in the lift, including the Doctor, looked at her.

"It could be dangerous," M said.

"No more dangerous than travelling with the Doctor," she replied. She turned to her friend. "If you're going to be doing scientific stuff, I'll just be in the way. I'd rather be doing something useful."

"Well, if it's alright with M and Yames," the Doctor said hesitantly.

"Fine by me," Bond said with a smile.

"So long as you're aware of the risks involved," M told her.

"I'll be careful," she assured them all.

"Then that's settled," said M. "You'll accompany 007 to Q Branch, and then to Switzerland. Doctor, you're with me."

British Intelligence Headquarters, Q Branch

"So what is Q Branch?" Charley asked as she followed Bond through the heavy-duty door into the underground test area.

"It's where we develop equipment to help agents in the field. Hidden weaponry, miniaturised radios and homing devices. All those kinds of thing."

"Wow," Charley said, taking in the large chamber around them, filled with people in white coats testing a variety of weapons and other mechanisms.

Over to one side stood a tailor's dummy in a pin stripped suit. A man in a white coat placed a bowler hat on the head of the dummy. Moments later the band of the bowler started on contract and shortly after the top of the dummy's head fell off.

Charley grimaced, then noticed that James had moved on. She hurried to catch up with him.

Bond was standing beside a workbench, examining what appeared to be an umbrella. Unseen by the agent, a white haired man walked up behind him.

"Do be careful with that 007," the man said.

Bond spun on his heel, the umbrella still in his hands. "Q!" he exclaimed, genuine pleasure in his voice. "I thought you had retired!"

"You should know better than that," the older man scolded mildly. "We of British Intelligence never fully retire. There is always some crisis that needs sorting out."

Bond was still grinning from ear to ear. "So, what does this thing do?" he asked, brandishing the umbrella.

"It keeps the rain off my head," Q snapped, taking the umbrella from Bond. "It's mine."

"Ah. Well, what have you got for me this time?"

"Aren't you going to introduce me to the young lady first?"

"I was beginning to think I was invisible," Charley said, hands on hips.

Bond smiled slightly. "Q, this is Charley Pollard. She's a friend of..."

"The Doctor," Q finished, extending his hand to Charley. "A pleasure, my dear. I met the Doctor earlier. Very nice young man. He's borrowing a science lab on the next floor, plus a couple of my technicians."

"Well, now we've sorted that out, maybe we can get back to the lecture," Bond suggested.

"No need to be like that," Q said, leading them across the chamber. "I assume from the fact you've not returned them in a dozen pieces that the x-ray glasses are still intact."

"You assume correctly," Bond said, patting his pocket. "I don't break everything you give me." He winked at Charley.

"No, just ninety percent of the equipment you draw gets returned in bits. The other ten percent doesn't come back at all!"

"That is a little unfair Q," Bond protested.

"Not at all," Q responded. "Now pay attention 007." They had reached a table covered in devices of all kinds.

"This looks interesting," Bond commented, picking up what appeared to be an ordinary lighter.

"It is interesting," Q told him, snatching the lighter away from the agent. He showed them a small switch underneath. "Flick this and it becomes a portable flame thrower. Short range, obviously, ten feet maximum. Also it doesn't have much capacity. It's good for about a ten second burst before exhausting the fuel completely."

"Handy," Bond commented as Q handed the lighter back. He slipped it into his pocket.

"Then there are these," Q said, handing Bond three flat metal discs the size of a drink's coaster. "Magnetic mines. Simply place them onto a metal surface and they are self-activating. Five seconds later, boom!"

"A must for any party," Bond quipped.

"And this," Q said, holding up a mobile phone, "is a miracle of modern engineering. It's a homing tracker, radar and detonator. It's also a remote control device for your car."

"Very good," Bond said with a smile. "On the same principle as the one you gave me once before?"

"It is indeed," Q replied. "Though it would be nice to get this one back."

Bond smiled. "Talking of my car..."

"This way," Q sighed, directing them through to the garage area.

As they arrived, they watched a yellow vintage car being rolled off a car transporter.

"I really hope you're not going to tell me that's my new car," Bond said to Q.

"Relax, 007. That's the Doctor's car, sent over directly from the United Nations Intelligence Taskforce. Your car is over here."

They walked over to a sleek, silver sports car, which Q patted on the roof with some affection.

"The Aston Martin DB5. Outfitted with all the usual extras. Machine guns hidden behind the headlights, oilslick and smoke ejectors behind the rear lights. Satellite navigation and tracking systems as standard. The indicator switch doubles as the launch control for the driver and passenger ejector seats, so be careful when you signal to turn left or right."

"I always am, Q," Bond said with a smile.

"That's a matter of opinion," the older man replied with a sigh. He moved over to a cabinet near the car. "And finally, a couple of items for the lady." He picked up what appeared to be a perfume bottle and handed it to Charley. "If you twist the spray through ninety degrees, it will deliver a potent sleeping gas at short range."

"Wow! Thanks, Mr Q," Charley exclaimed. She turned the bottle over in her hands. They had even put her name on it. Pity they hadn't spelt it right, but she was too polite to correct them.

"And there's this," Q continued, handing her a slim cigarette case.

"Oh, I don't smoke," she told him. "I believe it's bad for the health."

"And you would be right, especially if you're holding this case. The inside lid folds down, thus." He demonstrated, revealing a tiny control panel. "Press the red button in the centre and it arms a small but effective bomb. You then have twenty seconds to deliver it to its target and get yourself out of the blast range."

"Which is?" Bond inquired.

"About thirty feet, for the sake of safety," Q said.

"You're very kind, Mr Q," Charley commented, reaching over and kissing the older man lightly on the cheek.

"Yes, well, its all in a days work," he replied, slightly flustered.

Bond opened the passenger door for Charley, then when she was seated he went round and got into the drivers side.

"One more thing 007," Q said, leaning on the roof of the car and speaking through the open window. "M asked me to put ten thousand pounds worth of Krugerands around the inside of the spare tyre. Try not to have a flat on the way to Zurich."

"I'll try," Bond responded with a smile. He turned the ignition, gunned the engine and, with a final wave to Q, shot out of the underground garage.

"And be careful, James," Q said quietly as the car disappeared from view.

Part Two - Coincidence

Switzerland, South of Zurich

Bond's Aston Martin DB5 sped through the countryside, a silver streak against the green fields and white topped peaks.

"So, how long have you been on Earth?" Charley asked her driver.

Bond thought for a moment. "Over fifty years now," he said thoughtfully. "Since around the start of the Cold War."

"The what?" Charley wanted to know.

Bond frowned. "Where are you from? Or maybe I should ask when?"

"Nineteen thirty," she replied. "So everything you know about I haven't experienced yet."

"I must try and remember that," Bond said, mentally cursing the Doctor for choosing companions from all over the timeline. "So, how did you two meet?"

"Well, the TARDIS ended up on the R101. You know, the airship."

Bond nodded. "I've heard of it. The Doctor seems to be attracted to disaster."

"You can say that again!" Charley exclaimed. "He told me he had even been aboard the Titanic." He face grew wistful. "My Aunt Matilda and Uncle Ernest were lost on the Titanic," she said quietly.

"I'm sorry," Bond said in the suddenly heavy silence.

"That's OK," Charley replied, brightening visibly. "I didn't really know them, I was only little at the time."

They didn't talk much more on the way to the hotel.

The Ritz Hotel, Zurich

"We have reservations," Bond told the receptionist. "Mr Smith and his personal assistant, Miss Pollard."

"Ah, yes, rooms 317 and 318," he informed them. "I'll get a porter to take your bags up."

"Thank you," he said, signing the register and passing it to Charley for her to do the same. Then they followed the porter who was heading for the lift with their luggage.

Within ten minutes Bond was tipping the porter as they settled into their rooms.

"This is wonderful!" Charley exclaimed, taking in the large suite she had to herself.

"It's all on expenses," Bond said with a smile. "Courtesy of Her Majesties Government."

"So, what do we do next?" Charley wanted to know.

"Well, maybe we should visit Goldfinger's bank and deposit those coins," he suggested.

She nodded. "Sounds like a plan to me."

The Auric Memorial Bank, Zurich

"Good morning. I'd like to make a deposit please."

"Your name?" the cashier asked.

"Smith. James Smith. I have ten thousand pounds in gold coin and I would like to open an account."

"Certainly, Mr Smith," he replied. "I'll pass you on to our customer services manager."

Bond and Charley waited a few minutes until a large man with slicked back brown hair approached them.

"Good day to you, Mr Smith. I'm Frederick Duval. I believe you want to open an account."

"That's correct. Miss Pollard?"

Charley handed Bond the briefcase she had been carrying. Bond clicked the catches and opened it, to show Duval the gold coins sparkling within.

Duval grinned. "I'm sure we can accommodate a man of your obvious means, Mr Smith. Would you like to step into my office?"

"I thought he'd never ask," Bond murmured as Duval led them across the reception area. Charley stifled a snigger.

***

In a back room, the encounter between Bond and Duval was being watched on one of many monitor screens. As the image changed to the inside of an office, the picture was switched from the monitor to the main screen of the observation suite.

"Ah, the lucky Mr Smith," said Michael Goldfinger, smiling slightly. "I was wondering when he would turn up again."

"You know this guy?" growled a lean, muscular figure next to Goldfinger.

"Indeed I do, Carstairs. He beat me at blackjack in Singapore."

A frown crossed Carstairs' rough, scarred face. "I've never known you lose at cards Mr Goldfinger."

"I never have, at least not by fair means. And anybody who has beaten me by foul usually ends up being put out of my misery. So Mr Smith is doubly lucky."

"You saying he cheated?"

"He must have, I just don't know how yet. And now he turns up here, of all places. How very convenient. But which of us is it convenient for, Carstairs? Me or him?"

"You lost me boss," Carstairs replied in his heavy London accent.

"That isn't too difficult," Goldfinger commented, watching the three people on the screen. It seemed the deal was nearing its completion.

The monitor showed Smith and his PA standing, while Duval shook their hands. Goldfinger smiled.

"Come along, Carstairs. Time for me to bump into Mr Smith again."

***

"That went off well enough," Charley said quietly as they left Duval's office.

"Probably a little too well," Bond admitted. "A shame Goldfinger wasn't here as well."

They were halfway across the reception area, heading for the main doors, when a hand fell onto Bond's shoulder.

He swung round instantly, reading for action. But the smiling face of Michael Goldfinger greeted him.

"Well, well, if it isn't my lucky friend, Mr Smith. What a coincidence seeing you again, and here of all places."

"Not such a coincidence," Bond said smoothly. "When I got home I checked you out on the Internet. Found Goldfinger Holdings Limited a very interesting group of companies. I was looking to invest some of my capital in a Swiss Bank and thought why not make it yours."

"A very smart move, Mr Smith. Banking looks set to be the growth industry of the 21st Century. And the Swiss know a lot about banking."

"Indeed they do," Bond replied. "By the way, this is my Personal Assistant, Miss Pollard."

"Charmed, I'm sure," Goldfinger said, reaching forward and kissing Charley's hand. "And you've not met my associate, have you? Mr Smith, this is Mr Carstairs."

Carstairs glowered, but held out a hand to Bond. The British agent accepted the gesture and they shook hands.

Carstairs gripped Bond's hand tightly, increasing the pressure. Unprepared, Bond felt the small bones in his hand grate together as Carstairs squeezed harder.

Unable to break free, Bond could feel his face changing colour. Smiling at the sight, Carstairs released Bond's hand.

"You have quite a grip there," Bond managed to say, hoping his words didn't sound as raspy to everybody else as they did to him.

"Are you alright?" Goldfinger asked, a look of mock concern crossing his face. "I'm afraid Carstairs doesn't realise his own strength sometimes."

"I'm fine," Bond replied, trying not to look like he was massaging the feeling back into his hand.

"Well, it was nice seeing you again, Mr Smith. I don't suppose we shall meet again soon."

"Stranger things have happened," Bond replied. He and Charley watched as the two men left the building.

"Are you alright, James?" Charley asked, concerned.

"I'm fine," Bond told her. "That ape with Goldfinger tried to break my hand, but it's all in a days work for British Intelligence."

"Now what?"

"Back to the hotel, we can plan our next move from there," Bond said, leading her outside and back to the Aston Martin.

***

Outside, Goldfinger and Carstairs watched Bond and Charley drive away.

"Follow them," Goldfinger instructed his associate. "And if you get the chance, try and arrange a little accident for our Mr Smith."

"He won't be so lucky this time," Carstairs promised, sliding into the driver's seat of a four wheel drive vehicle.

***

"So that was the infamous Mr Goldfinger," Charley commented. "He didn't seem to be the two headed monster you and M were making him out to be."

"Looks can be deceptive Charley, I would have though you would have learnt that travelling with the Doctor."

Charley considered the charming but evil Brigham Dashwood the Third who she had met during her most recent TARDIS adventure. "Yes, maybe you're right James."

She glanced across at Bond, who seemed more interested in the view from his mirror then in what she was saying.

"We're being followed," he stated, pushing his foot down harder on the accelerator of the Aston Martin.

"How do you know?"

Bond sighed. "When you've been followed as often as I have, you'll find it's almost an instinct."

"So who is it?"

"Probably Goldfinger's hired gorilla," Bond replied, taking a tight turn at speed. "Should be able to shake him loose in the countryside."

They sped through and out of the town, heading for the open country. Charley looked back over her shoulder, to see a big, chunky car following them.

"He's still there," she informed Bond.

"See how he likes this," the agent replied, sliding aside a hidden panel and flicking a switch.

Smoke started to billow out from a second pipe next to the exhaust. Swiftly, it filled the road, cutting off the view of the driver following them.

But the smoke canister wasn't limitless and it soon ran out. When it did, the other car burst free, still following.

"Difficult to shake," Bond concluded. In fact, the other car was getting closer.

Reaching for another switch, Bond began pumping oil onto the road behind, in the hope of causing the other car to spin out of control.

It was almost as if the driver of the chasing vehicle anticipated the move, as he swerved to avoid the slippery road, taking his off road car literally off the road and onto the grassed verve at the side.

The two cars were running side by side now. Charley could see that they had been right, it was Goldfinger's henchman in the driver's seat.

Swinging back onto the road, the larger car hit the Aston Martin broadside on, causing Bond to fight for control of his own vehicle.

The two cars were now climbing a steep mountain pass, still side by side. The sports car was on the outside of the road, with an ever increasing drop on its other side.

Bond brought the car back under his control, just as the four wheel drive thumped into them again. Charley let out an involuntary yelp, as the larger car pounded against her side of the smaller vehicle.

"Bit of a road hog, isn't he?" Bond commented as he brought his own car under control once more.

"Don't argue James, he's bigger than we are," Charley replied, holding on as the other car swept towards them again.

But this time Bond slammed his brakes on, causing them to screech to a stop while the other car, taken by surprise, sailed past them towards the edge of the road.

With a squeal of brakes and a cloud of dust, the four wheel drive stopped itself just before it would have plunged over the edge of the sheer drop. Recovering quickly, the driver swung the steering wheel, turning his car to face the Aston Martin.

"Hang on!" Bond advised Charley as he slammed his car into reverse and they shot backwards at an ever increasing speed.

But the other car now had the advantage. It was going forwards, forcing the smaller car to accelerate in reverse as it bore down on its prey.

Bond snatched the handbrake, forcing the protesting tyres into a spin that brought them around one hundred and eighty degrees, until they were facing the right way down the mountain. Then, with the other car virtually on his rear bumper, Bond pressed his foot down hard once more on the accelerator.

But the manoeuvre had cost them an advantage. The four wheel drive was now travelling faster than they were and it began bumping them hard from behind.

"Is there anything you can do?" Charley asked, clinging on for dear life.

"There is one option," Bond replied, his jaw set grimly. "Brace yourself Charley."

Ahead was a sharp bend in the mountain road. Gunning the engine, Bond hurled the Aston Martin fast into the corner.

Suddenly, they were airborne as their car sailed over the edge of the cliff and began dropping towards the ground far below.

The four wheel drive barely had time to pull up, almost following them. The driver, Carstairs, got out to watch his enemy plunge to his death.

Charley was too surprised even to scream, if such a thing ever occurred to her. Bond was deadly calm, reaching into the hidden panel once more and activating a series of controls.

Suddenly, the roof slid upwards, exposing them to the open air. It set itself on four metal supports about a foot over their head, then panels began to slide out from the sides.

Inside a few seconds, a rigid pair of wings had formed. The car, now caught on raising warm air, steadied from its plunge towards terra firma.

"Wow!" Charley exclaimed as Bond banked the car/glider into the upcoming thermals. "I thought we were goners!"

Bond smiled slightly. "You can thank Q next time we see him. It's one of his little modifications."

And on the mountainside, Carstairs let out a string of Anglo Saxon curses as he watched the newly created glider swoop down towards the main road at the foot of the cliff. He quickly returned to his car, pushed it angrily into gear and sped down the road, intent on catching up with Bond and Charley.

After five minutes of circling with the winds, Bond brought the Aston Martin in for a smooth landing on a straight piece of road heading back towards Zurich.

As they rolled to a halt Bond activated the control that folded the wings back into the roof of the car. The roof then slotted back into place with a soft hiss of hydraulics.

"Well, I'm glad that little adventure is over," Charley said as Bond put the car into gear and they resumed normal driving.

"I wouldn't speak too soon," Bond told her, again consulting his rear view mirror.

Charley looked back also, seeing a four-wheel drive speeding towards them. "Oh no, not again!"

"Persistent, isn't he?"

"I'll say," she replied with feeling.

"Well, let's see how he handles these," Bond said, reaching for one of his hidden switches again.

This time a small panel under the car opened, spilling specially designed spikes all over the road.

Unlike with the smoke and the oil, these were small and difficult to see. Therefore, Carstairs didn't spot them until it was far too late, as they imbedded themselves into all four of his tyres, bursting them and causing the thug to lose control of the big car.

It spun and flipped over, bouncing on its roof. The four-wheel drive screeched along upside down until it cleared the roadway and hit a tree, hard.

Bond slowed the Aston Martin, seeing that their pursuer was now no threat. "Sunday drivers," he commented before they pulled away again.

British Intelligence Headquarters, London

"The Doctor is here to see you."

M pressed the switch down on her intercom. "Thank you, Moneypenny. Send him in."

Moments later the heavy oak door swung easily and silently open and the Doctor breezed in. For a moment M thought how out of place he looked in his green velvet frock coat and grey cravat. But then, she reminded herself, that was probably all part of the effect. That almost anywhere he went the Doctor would look like he didn't belong.

"You have news for me, Doctor?" M asked as he seated himself opposite her.

"I have indeed. By the way, thank you for lending me those two scientists from Q Branch, they were very efficient. You should consider them for promotion."

"I'll consider it, Doctor. Now, if you've finished running my department for me, your results?"

"Oh, yes," he replied, grinning and reaching into the pocket of his velvet coat for a battered notepad. "Those bars, despite what they may look like, really are still gold."

"Still gold? But what has happened to them? They don't look like gold."

"That's exactly the point," the Doctor said. "There are traces of a chemical residue that has been sprayed directly onto the bars. The chemical has changed the nature of the metal at an atomic level, causing the colour change."

"But why would anyone do such a thing?" M asked. Then, before the Doctor could reply, she continued. "Of course, if the banking communities of the world believe that the gold isn't really gold, the confidence will drop. Gold prices will soar. The whole global economy could collapse!"

"All strong possibilities. But I think there might be a larger problem."

"Larger than the financial ruin of the planet?" M inquired.

The Doctor looked grim. "Indeed. The chemical used to change the gold does not originate on Earth."

M looked at him over the top of her spectacles. "Aliens? You think this attempt at financial terrorism could be the prelude to an invasion attempt?"

"It seems very likely to me," the Doctor replied. "Many of the races that have tried to conquer Earth before have begun by using a human agent. Goldfinger could be the latest in a long line."

"Any idea which race is involved?"

"Not as yet. There are many that could manufacture the chemical. I will need to investigate further."

"This could be a lot deeper than I had imagined," M speculated.

"Any news from Switzerland?" the Doctor asked.

"I'm expecting a call from 007 later today," M replied.

"I should head out there myself, see what's going on at first hand," the Doctor decided.

"Can I ask a favour of you Doctor?"

"Of course."

"Would it be possible for you to take a passenger?"

The Ritz Hotel, Zurich, Switzerland

Bond set up the screen of his laptop computer. He had plugged it into the portable satellite dish secreted in his suitcase. Within seconds of switching on, his call was accepted.

"What news 007?" asked the image of M on the screen.

"Good evening, M," Bond replied with a slight smile.

"Never mind the niceties, this situation could be more serious than any of us first thought."

"Has the Doctor discovered something?" Charley asked as she peered over Bond's shoulder.

"He has indeed. He believes that Goldfinger is working for some alien intelligence intent on invading Earth."

"How so?" Bond wanted to know.

"He'll explain it all in person, he should be with you tomorrow afternoon. He's driving over."

"In that old car?" Bond scoffed. "Maybe we should expect him next week."

"The situation is becoming critical, 007. There have been more reports of gold changing from all over the world. The financial institutions are getting edgy. The world markets are nervous. If any of this is openly confirmed, it could push the world over the edge into complete fiscal collapse."

"Sounds serious," Charley exclaimed.

"It is serious, young lady," M said, her face grim. "Now, what have you discovered?"

"Well, it seems Goldfinger is suspicious of me after all. We deposited the coins in his bank, then met the man himself by accident, along with one of his thugs. That thug then tried to use his car to push us over a cliff."

"I'm pleased to see he didn't succeed. What is your next move?"

"We're waiting to see if Goldfinger moves the coins."

On the screen, M nodded. "Keep me informed. And let me know when the Doctor gets there."

"I'll be in touch next week then," Bond said, cutting the connection.

***

"Carstairs, you're a fool!"

"But boss, he turned that car of his into a glider! How can I run him off a cliff if he can do that?"

Goldfinger thought for a moment, contemplating Carstairs, who had just returned from the hospital with his arm in a sling due to a sprained wrist. He also had a black eye for his trouble.

"There is only one thing to do," Goldfinger decided. "We will have to deal with our mutual nemesis some other way. Somewhere he is vulnerable." Suddenly, Goldfinger smiled. "And I have the perfect place!"

***

Bond and Charley left the Ritz restaurant, having consumed an excellent supper together. They entered a lift and headed for their rooms.

"Well," said Charley, stifling a yawn, "it's been a very exciting day, but I'm exhausted. I'm going to turn in for the night."

"I think I'll join you," Bond replied.

Charley glanced across at him, but his expression was unreadable. "Oh no you don't," she said. "The Doctor warned me about you and your reputation with the ladies. I shall be sleeping alone for the duration of this trip!"

Bond smiled his most charming smile. "You misunderstood. When I said I would join you, I meant I would be sleeping too. Alone."

"Oh," Charley replied, not sure whether to be disappointed or not that she had got him wrong. "Well, that's settled then."

The lift chimed and the doors parted. They stepped out and turned left, towards their rooms.

"Goodnight, Charley," Bond said, turning the key in the lock of his room.

"Night James," she called back, doing the same at her door.

Bond removed his jacket as soon as he had locked the door behind him. He dropped it over the back of a chair and set about removing the shoulder holster containing his Walther PPK.

As he did so he thought about Charley in the room next door. So the Doctor had warned her about him. That made him smile. Charley was a nice girl, but she was a little young for him. Then Bond realised that at the age of three hundred and seventeen, almost all the women on Earth were a little young for him.

Yawning, he turned his back to the large window of his suite, which overlooked the city. As he did so, he noticed a shadow moving across the wall, illuminated by moonlight shining through the window. The shadow of a man.

He dived for his gun and rolled, bringing it to bear on the window. But the shadow was just disappearing, working its way along the ledge to the next window along. Charley's window.

Gun still in hand, he sprinted across the suite, unlocking the door quickly. In moments, he was hammering on Charley's door.

"Charley, let me in!" he called.

"Go away James," her tired voice replied. "I told you, I'm not becoming another notch on your bedpost."

"You're in danger!" Bond insisted.

"I'll take my chances," Charley told him.

Frustrated, Bond brought his gun to bear on the locked door. Without thinking, he shot the lock off and crashed through the door.

Charley let out a yelp of surprise as Bond rolled through the ruined door, just as the window behind her shattered inwards.

As the glass sprayed across the room a man stood silhouetted against the remains of the window. Swiftly, his arrival was followed by three crisp, clear gunshots and the man lurched backwards, falling back through the window and down to the pavement below.

While Charley was still trying to process what had happened, Bond dashed over to the window and looked through the shattered remains, craning his neck to look downwards.

Spread across the pavement below was the body of the man who had tried to gain access through Charley's window. A small crowd had started to arrive and in the distance a siren began to wail.

Bond retreated, grasping Charley's arm as he passed her bed. As he dragged her towards the door she started to protest.

"Hey, what are you doing James?"

"We don't need to be here when the authorities arrive," he told her, pushing her through the door of his room and locking the door behind them.

***

Bond opened the door to the persistent knocking and stood there in his dressing gown, rubbing his eyes.

"Mr Smith, there has been an incident," said the nervous porter at the door.

"Really?" Bond replied, looking bored and tired. "What do you want me to do about it?"

"It was in the room of your personal assistant, Miss Pollard. Do you know where she is?"

"I certainly do," Bond told him with a smile, pushing the door open a bit more. The porter looked further into the room and saw Charley, sitting up in the bed with a sheet round her.

"What is it James?" she called.

"Something to do with your room, darling," he called back, pulling the door partly closed again. "So, what exactly happened?" he asked the porter.

"Well, we're not entirely sure. The window is smashed and the door too. And there is a dead man on the pavement outside."

"Seems simple enough to me," Bond told the man. "Somebody must have broken in and exited through the window, then fallen to his death."

"But the man was shot!" exclaimed the porter.

"Ah," Bond said. "You didn't mention that. Then I can't help you. Miss Pollard has been with me since supper. We didn't hear a thing, if you know what I mean." He winked.

"I know what you mean, sir," the porter replied, winking back as Bond closed the door.

***

"Well?" asked Charley as Bond stepped away from the door.

"Worked like a charm," Bond replied with a grin. "He believes we've been together all night."

"There goes my reputation," Charley complained, dropping the sheet to reveal that she was fully dressed, sat up in the bed. She swung her legs over the side and stood up.

"We'll have to get you another room," Bond told her. "And anyway, you won't be here for long enough to worry about your reputation."

"Well, I could always stay here tonight," Charley said, looking sideways at Bond.

Bond grinned, until she threw a pillow at him.

"You can take the sofa in the other room," she told him, laughing.

***

The following morning, after breakfast and finding Charley a new room, they were in Bond's suite. The agent was using his laptop computer.

"What are you doing, James?" Charley asked.

"Checking on the location of the coins we deposited yesterday," he replied. "One of them had a tracker implanted in it."

"That's very clever," Charley decided, nodding.

For a moment Bond studied the screen. "It's on the move," he announced.

"Do we follow?"

"Of course we do," Bond replied, folding up the computer and passing it to Charley. "Come on!"

Within minutes they were in the Aston Martin, following the trace through the streets of Zurich. Bond turned this was and that as he followed Charley's directions from the tracer on the computer screen.

They were soon travelling outside the city, through the countryside again. Despite the sunshine, Charley couldn't help but shudder as she remembered the events of the day before.

Soon they came in sight of an industrial complex. Bond rolled the car to a stop about half a mile short of the barrier across the main entrance.

"Looks like we'll need a cover story to get in," he decided, taking the laptop computer back from Charley.

She watched as he quickly manipulated the controls. He had given her a crash course when they arrived, in case she was asked anything technical, but there was no way she could match his speed at using the device.

He went to the Documents menu, called up a file entitled 'Official Papers' which gave him a new sub menu. From this he chose 'Health and Safety', then from the Tools Bar of the opened Document he chose 'Swiss'. He hit the Print button and smiled at Charley.

"All we need now is to wait a few minutes for the ink to dry and we can proceed."

***

The guard on the gate frowned at the documents presented to him by the man in the sports car. "But we're not expecting a Health and Safety inspection."

"Nobody expects a Health and Safety inspection, that's the whole point," Bond told him with a smile.

Still frowning, the guard contacted the main building, leaving Bond and Charley to wait.

"Do you think they suspect anything?" Charley asked quietly.

"No reason why they should," Bond replied.

Moments later, the guard returned, handed back the official looking papers and opened the barrier. As Bond was about to drive through, the guard spoke.

"Check in at the main reception and ask for Mr Jackson."

"Will do," Bond said with a wave as he drove through.

***

Jackson was a short, rotund man with sweaty palms and a nervous tic. He greeted them pleasantly enough and showed them through onto the floor of the factory.

"This is where we make budget priced medicines that we export to the Far East and the developing countries of the African continent. We also carry out research on the site, in the hope of improving the medicines we manufacture and looking for cures for some of the more persistent ailments of mankind."

Bond nodded and Charley listened politely, but even she, displaced as she was in time, noticed how smoothly the words rolled from Jackson's tongue. Obviously a rehearsed speech.

"Can we see these research facilities?" Bond inquired.

"Well, I don't see why not," Jackson said, looking nervous again. "I'll just let Doctor Chen, the man in charge of the Research Division, know we are coming." He started walking towards a phone mounted on a wall nearby.

Bond caught up with him, placing a firm hand on Jackson's shoulder. "I would much prefer to arrive unannounced, if it's all the same to you."

"Whatever you say, Mr Smith," Jackson replied, taking the hint that this was an order, not a request.

A tall, thin oriental man in a white coat looked round in surprise as the trio entered the research laboratory. A look of anger crossed his face as he approached the newcomers.

"What is the meaning of this intrusion?" he demanded, obviously addressing his remark to Jackson while glaring at Bond and Charley.

"Health and Safety inspection," Jackson said, not meeting the other man's eyes.

"Really?" he replied, raising an eyebrow. "Well, that does change matters." He executed a small bow to Bond. "I am Doctor Chen, Head of the Research Division."

"Smith," Bond replied, extending his hand. "James Smith. And my personal assistant, Charlotte Pollard."

"Charmed, I'm sure," Chen said, taking Charley's hand and kissing it. She blushed slightly.

"I'm sorry if we're disturbing your work," Bond said smoothly. He picked up metallic arm filled with complex circuitry. "This looks very interesting."

"We also develop artificial limbs," Jackson told him.

Bond nodded, putting the limb down again. He turned to Chen. "Please, feel free to continue as if we were not here at all."

"You are most gracious, Mr Smith," Chen replied. He bowed once more and headed towards an office with his name on the door. He paused on the threshold. "I'm sure we shall see each other again." With that he entered the office and closed the door.

Bond looked over at Jackson. "We're ready to continue the tour."

"Of course," Jackson said, looking flustered. He led them deeper into the laboratory.

***

Chen picked up the phone in his office and pushed just one button. A couple of seconds later his call was answered.

"Goldfinger. What is it Chen?"

"Did you know about this Health and Safety inspection?"

"What Health and Safety inspection?" Goldfinger asked, giving Chen the answer he expected.

"We seem to have a Mr Smith and Miss Pollard taking a tour of the factory, including the Research Division."

"Indeed?" Goldfinger said. There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Who are they with?"

"Jackson," Chen replied, speaking the name like it was a curse.

"Ah, why am I not surprised?" Goldfinger chuckled slightly. "Jackson is a weak willed fool who will soon be getting pensioned off. In a permanent fashion."

"Should I do anything?" Chen inquired.

"No, I'll take matters from here. Where are they now?"

"Heading for Sector Seven," Chen replied.

"Right. You've done very well, Chen. How did you know they were fake?"

Chen smiled. "Because we had a Health and Safety inspection last week."

Goldfinger laughed and put the phone down. Chen's smile widened as he watched the inspectors leave through a side door, towards their capture.

***

"And this is the main warehousing and distribution centre," Jackson said as they entered a massive warehouse complex.

"Impressive," Charley commented.

Bond was looking at the stacks of crates stretching into the distance. "What's inside these?"

"Medicines, bound for the Far East."

"Can we see?"

Jackson actually went white. "No, they are sealed, to prevent accidental contamination. I would have thought you would have known that."

Bond laughed easily. "Of course. I'm sorry, we have to test the employees as much as anything else. Had you opened the crate, I would have had to file a negative report."

"I would be surprised if you ever file a report again, Mr Smith," said a voice from behind them.

Bond turned slowly. Standing a short distance away were Goldfinger, Carstairs and a group of six guards, all armed with machine guns.

"Well, well, Mr Goldfinger. What a surprise," Bond deadpanned as he raised his hands over his head. Charley did the same.

"Hardly, Mr Smith. Or should I say Mr Bond."

Charley's jaw dropped slightly but if Bond was surprised, he didn't show it.

"What gave me away?" he asked.

"The fact that you keep turning up like a bad penny," Goldfinger replied. "You know, my Grandfather had a saying about meeting people. The first time is happenstance, the second time is coincidence. The third time is enemy action. Are you my enemy Mr Bond?"

"It seems you think so," Bond said, nodding to the guards and their guns.

"I've found it pays to be cautious," Goldfinger said with a smile.

"So what happens now?" Bond wanted to know.

Goldfinger seemed to consider for a few moments. "I interrogate the two of you. Then I hand you over to Mr Carstairs, who is keen to finish the job he should have completed yesterday."

Carstairs smiled. Charley decided it was a nasty sight.

***

"Well, nothing to say, Mr Bond?"

"What would you like me to say?" Bond asked Goldfinger, from his position tied to one of the support beams of the warehouse.

"Oh, I don't know. A confession. A plea for mercy. That sort of thing."

Bond smiled slightly. "You're looking at the wrong man."

"Such a shame," Goldfinger replied. "Acting the strong, silent type. But what about your girlfriend?"

"I'm not his girlfriend!" Charley exclaimed. She was secured to a chair in the centre of a flat boarded area.

"Well, whatever you are, tell me why we shouldn't torture the truth out of you?"

"Because she knows nothing!" Bond snapped.

"Really?" Goldfinger said, walking around the chair holding Charley. "You'll excuse me if I don't believe you, given your track record."

"It's true," Bond told him. "She's just along as window dressing, to act as cover and make it look good."

"James!" Charley said, surprised. Then she caught his look and shut up quickly.

"So, if we start hurting Miss Pollard, will you talk?"

"There is nothing to say," Bond replied stoically.

"Your choice," Goldfinger said. "I'm sure you'll excuse me if I don't hang around for this. I so hate violence of any sort." He snapped his fingers. "Carstairs! Deal with them."

"A pleasure, sir," Carstairs replied as Goldfinger left the warehouse.

"I suppose you expect me to talk!" Bond shouted after Goldfinger.

He paused on the threshold of the building. "No, Mr Bond. I expect you both to die!"

***

"Mr Goldfinger? Mr Jackson is here as requested."

Goldfinger smiled as he walked into his secretary's office. "Thank you, Melissa. I assume he's in my office?"

"He is sir."

Goldfinger opened the door to his office and saw Jackson, standing in front of the desk, ringing his sweaty palms.

"Jackson. Thank you for coming."

Jackson jumped, turning. "Oh, Mr Goldfinger. You wanted to see me?"

"I did indeed. Now, about these Health and Safety inspectors."

"Yes, I hear that they were not the genuine article."

"You hear correctly, Mr Jackson. So why did you agree to give them a tour of the complex?"

"Because all their papers were in order," Jackson replied.

"How closely did you check them?" Goldfinger demanded.

"Well, I heard from the main gate that they were on their way to the main reception..."

"You didn't check them, did you? Did you even ask for their documentation?"

"Actually..."

"I'll take that as a no," Goldfinger interrupted. He sighed. "What am I going to do with you, Jackson? You're an excellent administrator, but when it comes to other aspects of the work we do here, you let me down. And this is the biggest let down of them all."

"I'm sorry, Mr Goldfinger. I'll really try harder next time."

Goldfinger walked over to his nervous employee, putting his arm around Jackson. "I don't think I can trust you to get it right next time, Jackson. I'm afraid we're going to have to part ways."

"But sir, I've worked here for years. Your Father was always happy with my work."

"My Father was much less demanding then I am. I need a fully committed workforce to back me up and you're just not a part of that anymore."

Goldfinger placed his hands on the shoulders of Jackson in what appeared to be a friendly gesture. Then he squeezed, hard.

Jackson's scream was stifled in his throat as pain coursed through him, beginning in his shoulders and working its way through his entire body. He sank to his knees as Goldfinger increased the pressure. His heart pumping fit to burst, Jackson collapsed. Goldfinger dropped to his knees to keep up the pressure. His eyes bulging, Jackson's heart finally gave up and he died.

Not even breathing hard, Goldfinger got to his feet and pressed the intercom. "Melissa, when Mr Carstairs calls in, send him to my office. I have some rubbish that needs removing."

***

Carstairs had brought a chain with a hook on the end along an overhead beam and secured it to the back of the chair Charley was tied to.

"You look like a man who enjoys his work," Bond commented.

"I like doing a good job. I hate it when others get in the way. You two got in my way yesterday. Now you're going to pay the price."

"Do you enjoy picking on defenceless women?" Bond needled.

"I'm not defenceless," Charley said. "If only I wasn't tied to this chair, I would show this big thug that!"

Carstairs grinned. "I like my victims to struggle." He walked over to Bond and took the agents face in one of his large hands, squeezing slightly. "And I don't care who they are. Men, women, animals. All the same to me."

"You look the type that would pull the wings off flies," Bond managed to say.

Carstairs laughed in his face as he let him go. "Oh, I'm going to enjoy killing you. But first, the girl."

He snapped his fingers and two of the armed guards put down their guns. One went to operate the hoist now attached to Charley's chair, while the other stepped over to a nearby control panel.

At a nod from Carstairs, the one by the panel operated a switch and the boarded area of floor under Charley's chair started to slide away.

Under the floor was a tank of dark coloured liquid. The lights of the warehouse shone on the liquid but didn't cause much of a reflection.

Charley's chair dangled over the pit of dark liquid. She stopped squirming and looked down, her face paling.

"This is the waste pit from the manufacturing plant," Carstairs explained. "All the chemicals that are out of date, get mixed wrongly or are excess to requirements, get pumped into the pit." He signalled the other guard, who operated the hoist.

Immediately, the chair holding Charley jerked downwards. She let out a yelp of surprise, he face showing the terror she felt.

Another signal from Carstairs and the hoist was stopped. Charley was now dangling just a foot above the liquid.

"If you talk, Mr Bond, we'll consider sparing her life. If not, you'll be joining her down there." Carstairs grinned, showing which of the two he hoped Bond would choose.

"I have nothing to tell you," Bond said. Behind his back, he had managed to work his hands around so that he could reach the face of his watch. He turned the outer ring, then hoped he could manage to keep his hands clear of the miniature laser that Q had fitted into the winding wheel.

"Such a shame," Carstairs replied to Bond's comment. He nodded and the chair jerked again.

This time it stopped just above the liquid. The top of the dark fluid brushed against Charley's shoes.

"Last chance, Mr Bond," Carstairs told him.

"Charley, did you put your perfume on this morning?" Bond called.

"What?" Charley responded. "I'm about to drown in a vat of chemicals and all you can think of is if I smell nice?"

"Just answer my question!" Bond snapped.

Realisation seemed to strike Charley. "Yes, I did use it this morning," she replied quickly.

Bond nodded. He turned to Carstairs. "I'm ready to talk."

"Shame," Carstairs said, glancing over at Charley. "I think we'll leave the lady dangling, in case we don't like what you have to say."

"I would prefer her freed," Bond told the thug.

"Tough. We can't always get what we want. Now, you talk."

Bond coughed, clearing his throat. "Come closer and I will."

Carstairs stepped towards Bond, but stopped three feet away.

"I'll need you closer than that," Bond said.

Carstairs raised an eyebrow but stayed where he was.

Bond sighed. "Look, what I have to say may be for the ears of you and your boss, but you won't want the hired help knowing about it." He nodded over at the guards.

Carstairs seemed to consider this, then he grinned. He stepped close to Bond. "Why not? It's not as if you can do anything to me."

"Don't bet on that," Bond said. He lurched forward, suddenly free of his restraints. His forehead struck Carstairs hard on the bridge of the nose and the thug staggered back, yelping in pain.

For a moment there was confusion in the warehouse and Bond took full advantage. On a crate near him was Charley's purse. He reached in and riffled through the contents.

One of the guards grabbed him by the shoulder, spinning him around. As they came face to face, Bond triggered the perfume bottle, releasing the knockout gas.

The guards slumped to the floor and Bond scooped up the fallen man's machine gun in his free hand, while pocketing the perfume bottle for possible later use.

The action was over in a few brief seconds. At the end of it, Bond was free and had a machine gun in his hand, pointing the weapon at the head of the still agonised Carstairs.

"Release her, and he keeps his head," Bond ordered.

The other guards hesitated, so Bond aimed the gun at the ceiling and took out a couple of lights. "Do it!"

The guard with the hoist operated it again, this time taking it upwards. The one by the other panel threw the switch that put the floor back. Then the first guard lowered Charley's chair to the floor.

"Now untie her," he commanded. The guards did as he told them.

Charley stood carefully, massaging her sore ankles and wrists. She walked over to Bond's side.

"Thank you, James," she said, reaching up to give him a peck on the cheek.

"No problem," he replied with a slight smile. "Now, you lot," he addressed the guards. "I suggest those with guns drop them now." The three remaining armed guards did so. Bond nodded to Charley, who collected them all.

Bond gestured with his gun. "That office. Now! And take him with you." His foot nudged Carstairs, who was just beginning to recover.

The guards did as Bond ordered, helping the injured man to his feet and taking him into the office with them.

Bond threw Charley his gun and went to operate the hoist. He found a crate that was roped up, ready to go. He used the hoist to move it outside the door of the office, effectively blocking the doorway.

He took the gun back from Charley. "I think it's time we got out of here."

"I'm right behind you," Charley said with feeling.

***

Bond and Charley moved cautiously out of the warehouse. He was still carrying the machine gun, and had pushed a couple of spare magazines into his pockets.

They had barely crossed to the next building in the complex when the scream of an alarm klaxon blared around them.

"We need to get back to the car, quickly," Bond decided. Charley nodded and they sprinted between a couple of buildings.

But there were three armed guards coming the other way. They opened fire and Bond returned the favour before pushing Charley back the way they had come.

They chose another route, but that also had guards coming towards them. They were rapidly running out of options.

That was when the most amazing and welcome sight came around the side of a building. A canary yellow vintage car took the corner on two wheels. When it thumped back onto all four, they saw the driver was wearing a green velvet coat and had long chestnut hair flying behind him in the wind.

The Doctor screeched Bessie to a halt beside them. Charley scrambled into the back seat, while Bond hopped up onto the running board, gun still in hand.

"Where did you spring from?" Charley shouted as the Doctor pushed the fast little car back into gear and sped away.

"I'll tell you later!" he called back. "We're not out of the woods yet!"

Indeed, Bond was already firing a staccato burst at the guards that had jumped out from between two large buildings. He fired another as the passed, and some of the guards ducked back into hiding.

"Can you operate a remote control?" he asked Charley. She looked blankly at him and he realised it was a stupid question. "Doctor?" he inquired.

"I can give it a go," the Doctor replied over his shoulder as he took another corner on two wheels.

"Good." Bond reached into his jacket with his free hand and produced his mobile phone, which he tossed across to the Doctor. He flipped it open one handed and studied the control panel revealed.

"I can do this," he said with a smile. "Charley, take over."

Suddenly he vaulted into the front passenger seat. Surprised, Charley quickly scrambled into the driver's seat as the vintage car began to slow down. Shooting the Doctor a filthy look, she took over the driving.

Fortunately, she was as fast as her Time Lord friend. The pace didn't slow as they took another corner within the complex, Bond firing back at more guards.

"I assume this is for your car," the Doctor called, familiarising himself with the remote controls.

"It's parked in the visitors car park," Bond confirmed. "Can you bring it alongside us?"

"No problem," the Doctor declared, using his thumb to steer the Aston Martin via the mouse control on the remote.

Now some of the guards had found transport of their own. They were chasing the trio in a couple of jeeps, firing all the time.

Bond switched clips of ammunition and fired back. The Doctor kept working the remote and Charley drove for all their lives.

A screech of rubber from a side entrance signalled the arrival of the Aston Martin. Slowly, the sports car drew alongside under the expert guidance of the Doctor.

Bond fired his machine gun at the approaching jeeps. He managed to hit the tyre of the front one, which sent the vehicle weaving out of control. The second one, unable to avoid the weaving car in time, crashed into its fellow and both went up in a large explosion.

That was when a third jeep appeared from a side turning, almost on top of them.

"Charley, do you still have that cigarette case Q gave you?" Bond called.

"Here," Charley replied, throwing the case she had retrieved from a pocket of her trouser suit. Bond caught it deftly and set to work with the hidden controls.

"Didn't anybody tell you that smoking is bad for your health?" the Doctor asked Charley.

The bomb primed, Bond tossed the case over the roof of his Aston Martin, which was now almost level with Bessie, and into the third jeep beyond.

"Step on it, both of you!" he ordered. The Doctor and Charley increased the speed of both their vehicles.

As it fell behind, the jeep blossomed into a fireball. Bond smiled. "Maybe someone should have warned them about the dangers of smoking."

"That wasn't funny, Yames," the Doctor told him sternly. "All life is precious."

"They would probably have argued with you over that," Bond replied. "Now, can you get my car closer?"

The Doctor complied and the Aston Martin closed the gap between the two cars to about a foot.

"Roll down the drivers side window," Bond instructed the Doctor. "Control and Page Down."

"Got it," the Doctor announced as the window descended.

"I'll see you two outside," Bond called as he stepped across the gap and squeezed himself through the open window.

With a little wriggling he was soon safely behind the wheel. "You can release manual control now Doctor," he shouted across. The Doctor did so and Bond gave him a thumbs up. "Follow me!"

With that the Aston Martin leapt forward. The Doctor turned to Charley.

"You heard the man," he said and Charley floored the accelerator.

Within moments they were hurtling towards the gatehouse and the barrier to the complex. Bond smiled grimly as he reached for the hidden control panel.

The windows in the gatehouse exploded in a shower of machine gun bullets as the headlamps of the Aston Martin slid aside to reveal to Uzi's, fully loaded. The guard dived for cover and the car smashed through the barrier, its reinforced bodywork and toughened windscreen making short work of the flimsy wooden pole.

Bessie roared through after the silver sports car and soon both were lost from the view of those within the complex.

***

About a mile away, the Doctor got Charley to flash Bessie's lights, signalling Bond to stop. They were on the edge of a forest, with only a phone box to be seen.

"Why are we stopping here?" Bond asked, reversing to talk to his friends.

"I dropped off my passenger around here," the Doctor told him.

Bond was about to ask what passenger when a woman appeared from behind the phone box. She was in her early thirties, with shoulder length dark hair. She wore a red trouser suit and a sour expression, which marred an otherwise pretty face.

"James Bond, allow me to introduce Catherine Svensson, of the European Central Bank. Catherine, this is James Bond, the agent M told you about."

"Hello Mr Bond," she said frostily.

"May I call you Catherine?" Bond asked with a smile.

"Her friends call her Cat," the Doctor chipped in.

"You may call me Ms Svensson," she told Bond with a hard stare.

"I'll remember that," he replied, still managing to smile. "Now, we really should be getting out of here."

"Agreed," the Doctor said, offering Catherine Svensson his seat. "Hop over Charley," he requested.

"No way," she replied. "You can take the back seat for a change." To emphasise the point, she revved the engine.

"Very well," the Doctor sighed, clambering into the rear seat of Bessie as the two cars headed back for Bond and Charley's hotel.

***

"So how did you find us, Doctor?" Charley asked as the four of them ascended in the lift to the third floor.

"Well, when we reached the hotel and you were not here, I called M and asked where she thought you might be. She gave me the code for the bugged coin and we followed the plot on Cat's laptop computer."

"Then the Doctor dropped me off and said I had to wait until you returned."

"That still doesn't explain how you knew we were inside," Bond said as the lift arrived.

"I saw your car in the car park."

"And how did you know we were in trouble?" Charley asked.

The Doctor grinned. "Instinct."

"And how can we help you, Ms Svensson?" Bond asked as he unlocked the door to his suite.

"The European Central Bank contacted British Intelligence when somebody heard a rumour that you were working on the same problem we had."

"There have been incidents of gold turning into base metal in all the member countries, and possibly all the major powers of the world as well," the Doctor added.

"The ECB wanted assurances that everything was being done to correct the situation. They sent me along with explicit instructions to see to it personally."

"Now just wait a minute," Bond said. "You expect to tag along with me for the duration of this mission? Out of the question!"

The Doctor shrugged. "M's orders, Yames. Check with her if you like."

Bond glared at Ms Svensson. He knew the Doctor was telling the truth, so there was little point in contacting M. If he had thought he could change her mind he would have, but he knew just how difficult that was too.

"Looks like I don't have a choice," he growled.

"Correct, Mr Bond," Svensson replied. "But don't worry, I'm not looking forward to it any more than you are."

"It's bound to be dangerous," Bond told her, hoping it might put her off.

But she only shrugged. "I served in the Swedish Air Force as a fully trained combat pilot. I can handle myself in a crisis."

Bond looked impressed, but didn't comment. Instead he turned to the Doctor. "M said you had made a breakthrough in your research."

The Doctor nodded. "The gold is being sprayed with a chemical compound that alters it on an atomic level. Hence the colour change. Its still gold underneath, but nobody would know or believe it was."

"And I'll bet that the plant we just left manufactures the chemical," Bond deduced.

"Maybe, but its not something of local origin," the Doctor said cryptically, winking at Bond behind Svensson's back.

It took Bond a moment to catch on. The Doctor was telling him that the chemical was of alien origin. That was why M thought it was a prelude to an alien invasion. But Svensson, not having experienced alien worlds and cultures, would never believe that.

"Do you have any idea where the chemical originates?" Bond asked carefully.

The Doctor shook his head. "I do still have some research to do." He glanced across at Charley. "And I could use a little help."

Charley grinned. "Of course, Doctor. It's been fun playing secret agent, but I'm ready for our usual, quieter life now."

"We should start back straight away," the Doctor told her. "And I expect you'll be checking out soon too."

Bond nodded. "This is the first place Goldfinger's goons will look." He turned to Svensson. "Any luggage?"

"A small travelling bag, in the back of the Doctor's car."

"Then let's go."

***

Within ten minutes they were checking out of the Ritz hotel. The Doctor retrieved Ms Svensson's bag and she slid into the passenger seat of the Aston Martin.

Bond shook hands with the Doctor. "I suppose I'll see you again before all this is over?" the agent said.

"I think you can count on it," the Doctor replied with a smile.

Charley stepped forward and kissed Bond on the cheek. "Take care, James."

"Always," he replied with a slight smile. Without looking back he slipped into the driver's seat of the Aston Martin and the car soon disappeared from sight.

"Come along," the Doctor said briskly. "We should try and make the tunnel by morning."

"I'll let you drive this time," Charley decided and the Doctor laughed as they left the hotel.

***

In a side street across the road from the Ritz Hotel, a jeep stood. In the driver's seat was Carstairs, while in the passenger side was Goldfinger.

They watched as Bond pulled away in the Aston Martin, with the Doctor and Charley going the other way moments later.

"Which do we follow?" Carstairs wanted to know.

"Bond, of course. The other two are of no consequence. But Bond is our main danger."

Carstairs grinned at this news, gunning the engine and heading after the retreating silver sports car.

Part Three - Enemy Action

The Outskirts of Zurich

"So where do we start?" Catherine Svensson asked.

"Back where we just came from," Bond informed her. "Goldfinger Pharmaceuticals."

She looked at him as if he were mad. "But you just barely escaped from there with your life!"

He grinned. "So it's the last place they'll expect me to visit."

"And what do you hope to learn there?" she wanted to know.

"Well, I assume they are shipping gold out under the guise of medical supplies. It would be nice to confirm that theory."

"What about the coin you have bugged?"

Bond nodded. "Good idea. Can you call up the trace on it?"

"The Doctor configured my laptop to look for it," she said, reaching into the back for the slim computer. She busied herself studying it for a few moments.

"Any luck?"

"Yes," she replied. "It seems to be on the move."

"Heading?"

She stared at the readout. "Towards us. Almost on top of us in fact."

At that moment a large container lorry passed them. The name on the cab was Goldfinger Pharmaceuticals.

"The coin is now going away from us," Ms Svensson confirmed.

Bond didn't need telling twice. He spun the sports car in the centre of the road and set off following the lorry.

"We're gaining, I assume?"

"We are indeed!" she said triumphantly.

Neither of them noticed that the jeep that had been following them out of Zurich had also turned around and was still following them, at a discreet distance.

"It seems to be heading for the airport," Svensson told Bond.

"Air freight," he deduced.

A couple of minutes later they followed the lorry onto the grounds of Zurich Airport. They held back a little as it headed for the freight terminal.

"Now what?" Svensson asked.

"We get closer, find out exactly where it's going. Though my guess would be Hong Kong."

She raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

"Goldfinger has an import/export business on the island," he explained.

While they had been talking, the lorry had moved out of their sight. Bond pushed the accelerator down, in the hope of catching it up again.

They moved swiftly between stacks of containers, piled high and awaiting loading. Turning a corner, Bond saw their quarry disappearing around a bend up ahead.

Speeding up, he took the corner fast. Too fast to avoid driving straight into an open container.

Bond applied the brakes in time to keep from slamming into the far end of the large metal box. He pushed quickly into reverse, but even as he started to back up, the doors at the far end were shut and locked with a loud clang.

For a moment Bond and Svensson looked at each other.

"Well, looks like we'll get to see first hand where the gold is going," Bond said with a smile.

"What about the air in here?" she wanted to know.

"Don't worry about that. The car is fitted with an air filtration system. Should be good for about five days."

"Providing they don't decided to just leave us here," Svensson said mournfully.

As she spoke, there were more clatters and clangs from outside the container. After a few minutes, they felt the whole thing lift into the air.

"Well, I don't think we need to worry about being left. Seems we have tickets to Hong Kong."

British Intelligence Headquarters, London

"Moneypenny, can you get me the file on the Carbury Incident? And has there been any word from 009 in Warsaw?"

"Yes, and no," Moneypenny replied to her boss. She walked over to a nearby filing cabinet, rummaged through for a moment, then closed it again. She handed M a slim Manila folder. "The Carbury File. And as yet I've not heard from 009."

"Right. Well when he does get in touch, let me know please."

"I will," Moneypenny assured her.

M had turned away, heading back to her office, when a polite knock came on the outside door.

"Come in," Moneypenny called.

In strode the Doctor and Charley. The former was grinning while the latter was trying to get her hair back into some sort of shape.

"If he ever offers you a lift, refuse politely," Charley advised Moneypenny quietly.

"Come through, Doctor," M was saying and Charley quickly followed him into her office.

"Things went well in Switzerland then?" M inquired as the Doctor and Charley sat down.

"As well as can be expected," the Doctor replied. "I think Charley can relate the early part better than me."

Over the course of the next fifteen minutes, the two time travellers brought M up to date on what had happened in and around Zurich.

"And you left Ms Svensson with 007?" she asked.

The Doctor nodded. "Though neither of them seemed exactly thrilled at the prospect."

M smiled slightly. "Ms Svensson is probably a bit too independent for 007's liking," she commented.

"Anything new at this end?" the Doctor inquired.

"Actually, we do have something you might want to take a look at." She handed him a piece of paper.

The Doctor studied it. "It appears to be the plot of an orbital satellite."

"Correct. But it's not one of ours. Or, as far as we can tell, one of anybody else's. At least, anybody else native to this planet."

The Doctor nodded. "You think this is an alien satellite, probably keeping Goldfinger in touch with his allies."

"Again correct, Doctor," M said. "We discovered it quite by chance when the American's were fixing one of theirs using the Space Shuttle a couple of days ago. They spotted this satellite in geo-synchronous orbit over Hong Kong, but with no marks indicating a country of origin. The astronauts were advised to leave it alone, until it could be determined who it belonged to."

"And nobody is claiming it as their own?" the Doctor guessed.

"That's right. And this morning it transmitted a short message to the surface."

"To Hong Kong?"

"As far as we can tell. Goldfinger has an import/export business there."

"Can you get me the co-ordinates of the satellite?" the Doctor asked. "I think we should take a closer look."

M handed him a printout. "These will put you virtually on top of it."

The Doctor grinned. "Then there's no time to lose. Come along, Charley!" he said, bounding out of his chair and heading for the door.

Sighing, Charley shrugged at M and followed the velvet blur.

Zurich Airport

Goldfinger and Carstairs watched as a container was loaded aboard the freight airliner.

"I do hope Mr Bond enjoys his flight," Goldfinger said with a smile.

"I couldn't care less if he enjoys it or not," Carstairs growled. "Just so long as there is enough left of him at the other end to be entertaining."

"Oh, I'm sure you'll get your fun later, Carstairs," Goldfinger replied. He patted the man on the shoulder. "We should be getting to our own transport."

The two men walked away from the huge transport plane, heading for a small passenger jet that was just starting to warm up its engines, ready for take off.

The Doctor's TARDIS

The Doctor stood over the console, feeding in the co-ordinates he had got from M. With a final flourish, he sent the craft into the vortex.

Within moments of starting its regular rise and fall, the glass cylinder at the centre of the console slowed and stopped.

The Doctor activated the overhead scanner and the roof of the console chamber filled with stars. Near the inner doors, the Earth could be seen.

"There it is," said the Time Lord.

Charley followed his pointing finger. Floating in the blackness was a metal device that she assume was this satellite M had been talking about.

"Doesn't look like much," she commented.

"Hasn't anybody ever told you that looks can be deceptive?"

Charley remember a recent conversation she had had. "Actually they have, now you mention it."

"Then you should never judge a book by its cover. Unless it's a lurid pink cover, in which case it might be best to think twice at least."

The Doctor began fiddling with the controls again and the satellite seemed to leap towards them. He stepped around the console and studied the device.

"Definitely not of Earth manufacture. And it does seem familiar from somewhere. I just wish I could pin down where I had seen something like it before."

"It's moving!" Charley exclaimed.

Indeed, the satellite was beginning to turn. The Doctor smiled slightly.

"It seems like we're in luck, Charley. It's getting a message from home."

He was suddenly busy at the console again, plotting the movement of the satellite. Once it stopped, he turned his attention to another panel.

"Triangulating source now..." he murmured to himself.

Charley was watching over his shoulder, so when he stepped back, he almost trod on her toes.

"Hey, careful!" she said indignantly.

"Sorry Charley," the Doctor replied absently. He was tapping his chin in thought.

"What's wrong?" she asked, knowing that look all too well.

"The signal source seems to be coming from the Moon. The dark side, to be precise."

"So what are we waiting for?" she wanted to know.

"What indeed!" he said, galvanised into action. Setting the co-ordinates swiftly, the TARDIS once again dematerialised.

International Airspace

"So how do we get out of this?" Catherine Svensson asked. "After all, you are supposed to be the resourceful intelligence agent."

Bond considered for a moment. "I suggest we wait until we reach our destination, then let whoever locked us in open the doors for us."

"Is that it? Your great master plan?"

"Do you have a better idea?" he inquired, raising an eyebrow.

She sighed. "No, I suppose not. But I thought you secret agent types had all sorts of gadgets and gizmos for this sort of situation."

Bond patted the pockets of his jacket. "Damn! I left my Swiss Army Knife at the hotel!"

"Very funny, Mr Bond."

He sighed. "Please call me James. Only my enemies call me Mr Bond."

"And your point is, Mr Bond?"

He frowned, until he saw the faint gleam of humour in her eyes. He smiled and nodded. "You wanted a suggestion. I suggest we lie back and relax."

"And think of England? You can think again!"

Bond shook his head. "That wasn't what I meant! Don't tell me the Doctor warned you about me as well?"

"The Doctor didn't mention you much, except to say you were old acquaintances. But I know your type, James."

"Well, what I was suggesting was that we take the opportunity to get some rest. The seats recline. I think we would function better at the other end of this journey if we were refreshed."

She nodded. "That's actually quite a good idea. So British Intelligence isn't actually a contradiction in terms then."

"I don't know anybody that ever said it was," he replied. "At least, nobody living."

The Dark Side of the Moon

"Not much to see, is there?" Charley commented on the picture from the scanner.

"That's why they call it the dark side," the Doctor told her, examining the TARDIS instruments. "Now, if I can just locate the source of that signal... Got it!"

The picture narrowed in on the Moon's surface. Despite the shadows making individual features difficult to discern, Charley could just make out a regular shape that didn't seem to belong.

"Is that a spaceship?"

The Doctor nodded. "It is indeed. A crashed spaceship at that. And I would say it's been there for some time."

"How long do you suppose it's been there?"

The Doctor shrugged. "On the cosmic scale of things, hardly a heartbeat. In your terminology, about thirty or forty years."

Charley watched as a dark look suddenly crossed his face. "What's wrong?"

"I think someone, or something, just walked over my grave." He shivered. Then his face brightened again. "I think we should take a closer look at that ship."

As he busied himself at the controls, Charley wondered if she might not have been safer staying with James.

Hong Kong International Airport

"Ah, I'm glad to see you could join us, Chen," Goldfinger said.

The oriental man bowed slightly. "I am looking forward to meeting our Mr Smith once more."

"As am I. Carstairs, open the container would you."

Carstairs grinned and pulled the bolts back that secured the huge doors of the container. They creaked open, revealing two human figures standing blinking in the sudden sunlight.

Goldfinger recognised the agent, but the woman with Bond he had only seen from a distance. He stepped forward.

"Welcome to Hong Kong, Mr Bond." He turned to the woman. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure."

"Neither have I," Bond murmured, and Svensson dug him in the ribs with her elbow. He smiled at Goldfinger. "This is Catherine Svensson. Ms Svensson, this is Mr Michael Auric Goldfinger. That is Doctor Chen and the gorilla is called Carstairs." Carstairs growled, but Bond just winked at the thug.

"You shouldn't keep provoking Carstairs. He isn't the calmest of individuals."

"I would say that's an understatement," Bond replied.

"We really must stop meeting like this, Mr Bond," Goldfinger said. "You do have a bad habit of sticking your nose into my business. I think it's about time that nose got cut off. Permanently."

Carstairs pulled a gun from the inside pocket of his leather jacket and pointed it at Bond's head. "The red van parked over to your left. Move slowly towards it. Now."

"I see you've taught him right from left," Bond said to Goldfinger. "Shame you didn't teach him right from wrong."

Carstairs brought the butt of the gun down sharply on Bond's neck, causing the agent to stumble. As he recovered, the thug shifted his aim to Svensson.

"Now do as you're told, without the smart comments, or the lady gets a free bullet."

Rubbing his neck, Bond complied with the request. Goldfinger turned away with Chen.

"We'll leave you to your work, Carstairs. Goodbye, Mr Bond. Sorry we couldn't get better acquainted, Ms Svensson."

"Don't worry about it," she said, but Goldfinger could see the fear in her eyes. He smiled.

Bond was deliberately walking as slowly as he could get away with. Carstairs didn't seem worried, but neither did he let the gun waver.

"So now what, hot shot?" Catherine Svensson asked Bond as they walked towards the red van.

"I'm sure I'll think of something," he assured her.

Alien Spaceship, The Dark Side of the Moon

The lamp on top of the TARDIS was the only thing to illuminate the corridor as the craft materialised. When it solidified and the lamp stopped flashing, darkness reigned once more.

After a few moments the door of the TARDIS creaked open and briefly light spilled out from the ship as the Doctor and Charley stepped out. Each of them was carrying a torch, so that even when the Doctor closed and locked the door, there was still light.

The two time travellers were also wearing breathing helmets, as the atmospheric sensors had shown that there was no atmosphere in the crashed ship.

"So, which way now?" Charley asked.

The Doctor swung his torch around. Seemingly unable to decide, he reached into his pocket and produced a coin, which he flipped.

The coin seemed to take forever to rise and fall in the weak gravity of the Moon, but it eventually came down heads. The Doctor reached down, picked the coin up and pocketed it. Then he set off down the right hand branch of the corridor.

Charley had just turned to follow when she found he was walking past her, heading down the left-hand branch instead. Sighing, she followed his flapping coat tails.

They spent fifteen minutes wandering the corridors of the ship. A number of side doors were open, but they found nothing inside any of the rooms to help them or to indicate the nature of the rooms themselves.

The Doctor finally got fed up of just wandering the passageways of the ship and retrieved his sonic screwdriver from his pocket. He set to work freeing an access panel beside one of the closed doors.

"Do you really think this dead hulk holds any clues to the aliens helping Goldfinger?" Charley asked him.

"I don't believe in coincidence, Charley. And this ship is too much of a coincidence not to be part of the bigger picture."

The panel dropped away revealing a maze of circuitry inside. The Doctor reached inside and found a small length of metal, which he connected to a stubby protuberance. He then proceeded to pump in up and down.

The door began to open, inch by slow inch. Charley tried to shine her torch through but there wasn't enough space to allow her to see anything significant.

When the Doctor had opened the door about a foot he stopped pumping and stepped back. "We should both be able to squeeze through there," he decided.

"Well, I know I can," Charley responded. "You're the one with the jelly baby obsession, so maybe you should open it a little further just to be sure."

The Doctor stuck his tongue out at her and pushed himself into the gap. Grinning, Charley followed.

She bumped into the Doctor's immobile back as she freed herself from the gap. "Hey, can't you move a little further in?"

Then all of a sudden the lights came on, momentarily blinding her. When she got her vision back, she saw what the Doctor must have seen in the beam of his torch.

"Oh no," she groaned.

"I should have known!" the Doctor exclaimed.

"Welcome, Doctor," said the alien, looking down at the time travellers. "You have arrived in time to witness our victory."

Hong Kong International Airport

Bond noticed something out of the corner of his eye. Making an instant decision, he leaned closer to Catherine Svensson.

"Cause a distraction, quickly," he whispered.

She glanced sideways at him, but said nothing. Then she let out a groan and stumbled, clutching her head.

"What's wrong?" Carstairs asked, stepping forward.

"You are," Bond told him, swinging a rapid right hook to the unsuspecting thug's jaw. Carstairs went down hard and his gun span away across the tarmac.

Grabbing Svensson by the arm, Bond ran towards the sight he had seen from the corner of his eye. Beyond the van, a man had just parked his high powered motorbike and walked away.

As Bond had suspected, the man had left the key in the ignition. Turning it quickly, he leapt aboard and urged Svensson to climb on behind him. When she did he gunned the engine and the bike roared away with its new passengers.

Carstairs had recovered enough to reach his gun, but the moving target was difficult to hit and Bond managed to dodge the bullets fired by the thug. As he increased the speed of the bike, Svensson held on tightly around his waist.

Cursing, Carstairs jammed his gun into his pocket and ran for the van. He could still catch up with the man who was swiftly becoming his nemesis.

Bond saw the red van looming up in the rear view mirror and pushed the throttle further open. The bike leapt forward, heading for the main road into the city.

Carstairs followed grimly. He knew that Goldfinger wouldn't tolerate any more setbacks, and losing Bond again would definitely be seen as a setback. This was his last chance to stay in the favour of his boss.

The bike swerved out of the car park and into the traffic of Hong Kong. The van was only seconds behind, causing other car to swerve out of the way.

Bond saw that Carstairs wasn't going to be easy to shake off. If anything he was getting closer. It was time to take drastic action.

Not slowing his speed at all, Bond pushed the bike across the carriageways of vehicles, until he had crossed to the opposite stream. Behind him he heard Svensson gasp as she realised that they were now moving against the traffic.

Cursing, Carstairs got as close as he could without crossing sides himself. He wasn't going to risk his own life just to watch the agent throw his own away.

Despite the horns from the traffic coming towards them, Bond showed no sign of slackening his speed or swapping back into the correct carriageway. In fact he was moving steadily across the lanes until he could reach a slip road.

Seeing what was happening, Carstairs cursed again, long and loud. He had no choice now, he had to follow Bond. If he lost him this time, Goldfinger would have his head in place of the agent's.

Steeling himself, he plunged the van into the opposite traffic stream. But the van was much bigger than the motorbike and within seconds a car that couldn't avoid it in time had clipped it. Spinning out of control, the van was hit broadside on by a bus. Within ten seconds, the red van had become the centre of a multi-vehicle pile up.

As the centre of attention shifted away from them and towards the accident, Bond and Svensson found their slip road and left the road to the emergency services.

Hong Kong Side Street

"Has anybody ever told you you're a maniac on the road?" Svensson said angrily.

Bond pulled the motorbike up onto its stand. "It has been mentioned once or twice."

"You could have killed us back there, pulling that stunt on a busy road!"

"But I didn't!" Bond snapped back. "And Carstairs would have if he'd caught us. So you might like to consider the fact that you're still alive and that he is probably on his way to the hospital even as we speak."

She was silent for a moment. When she did speak it was to change the subject.

"What do we do now?"

"Well, as we're here, I thought we might check out Goldfinger's import/export business."

"You don't think that's a little risky?" she suggested.

"Life is risky," he reminded her. "Do you have any better ideas?"

"Not really," she shrugged. "So, which way is this warehouse?"

A Hospital Ward, Hong Kong

Carstairs came round to find himself flat on his back. As the surface he was lying on was soft, he decided he must be in a hospital bed. When he opened his eyes and managed to bring the room into focus, he found himself looking up into the face of Goldfinger.

"Good, you're awake. How are you feeling?"

"Rough," Carstairs croaked. "What happened?"

"That's what I was going to ask," Goldfinger said. "But I think I can probably guess. Bond got the better of you. Again. Then when you tried to redeem yourself, you ended up in here. And I assume he got away scot-free."

Carstairs licked his dry lips. "I did try to catch him, but he was on a motorbike and..."

Goldfinger held up his hands. "I don't want to hear the excuses, Carstairs. You've let me down. Badly. But I'm not going to punish you for that."

"Thanks boss," Carstairs replied with a smile.

Goldfinger smiled back, patting Carstairs on the shoulder. "I'm going to let Chen punish you." He snapped his fingers. "Chen. He's all yours."

Chen stepped forward, fitting a silencer to a revolver. Carstairs tried to struggle, but he was secured to the bed.

The silencer fitted, Chen pointed the gun at Carstairs forehead and squeezed the trigger. Carstairs stopped struggling.

***

"Where do you think the annoying Mr Bond will be now?" Chen asked his employer.

"If I know him, and I'm beginning to get an instinct, he will probably be poking around the warehouse on the docks."

"Shall I alert security?" Chen wanted to know.

Goldfinger smiled. "I've already removed the security patrol." When Chen looked blank, he chuckled. "I have alerted some special help to deal with Mr Bond."

Chen nodded his understanding. "Then may his God have mercy on his soul."

Goldfinger IE Limited Warehouse, Hong Kong

"Shouldn't there be some security around here?" Svensson asked as she and Bond stood in the shadow of the warehouse, trying to open a door.

"Maybe they're all inside," he replied.

"Yes, waiting in ambush. Had you considered that?"

"I had considered it, yes. As I asked earlier, do you have any better ideas?"

"I have the idea that I don't want to be Goldfinger's prisoner again," she shot back.

The door finally clicked open under Bond's hand. He grinned, putting his lockpick back into his pocket. "I don't relish that thought either. That's why I keep escaping him."

"But what if he kills us next time?" she demanded.

"Then we won't need to worry about escaping," he replied. Before she could make another comment he disappeared through the door. Fuming quietly, she followed him.

***

The swimmer cut through the dark water with strong, sure, powerful strokes. Fish seemed to sense to keep out of the way as the swimmer headed for the goal that had been set.

The target was in sight. Without any trace of visible emotion, the swimmer headed for the appointed rendezvous.

***

The warehouse was dark and empty. The only items in sight were the occasional empty crates stamped 'Goldfinger Pharmaceuticals'. An old newspaper lay on the floor, the pages ruffling in a slight draft.

Bond and Svensson headed deeper into the cavernous chamber. Bond's torch only highlighted how deserted the space was.

Something glittered at floor level over by the far wall, but on investigation it turned out to be a railed off area of missing floor, open to expose the lapping of small waves against the dock.

"What now?" Svensson asked Bond. "There's obviously nobody home."

Bond was deep in thought. They both leant on the railing around the exposed area.

"We could wait until Goldfinger or one of his people shows up," Bond suggested.

"That could take weeks," she protested. "Look at this place. It hasn't been used for some time, by the look of things."

Bond nodded. "You could be right. What do you suggest?"

"Well, I know I'm hungry. Any chance we could eat first, then discuss strategy?"

"We'll eat," he confirmed, pushing himself away from the railing. "Chinese?"

"I had been hoping for Italian," she commented, following him. "But I might not have much of a choice."

They hadn't gone five steps when a great whooshing noise and a spray of water signal an arrival behind them.

They both turned slowly. Svensson gasped his surprise and disbelief. Bond just stared grimly at the giant silver figure towering over them.

"Looks like dinner is cancelled," he said wryly.

Alien Spaceship, The Dark Side of the Moon

"I thought we had defeated the Cybermen?" Charley said to the Doctor as they watched their silver captors moving confidently about their crashed ship.

"We did, but that was in the future," the Doctor reminded her. "Anyway, over the centuries the Cybermen have had a number of experiments in time travel, with rather mixed results. So in this case time is rather relative."

"You said you should have known. How come?"

"The gold. As soon as I connected gold to alien intelligence I should have put them in the frame. Goldfinger's perfect partners, in one sense."

"What can we do against them?" Charley inquired.

"Hope. Wait and see what happens next. Grab any opportunity we get to make a quick return to the TARDIS."

The Doctor and Charley were being watched over by a single guard, standing in the corner of the control centre. Now the Cyberleader stepped towards them.

"The time of our invasion of the Earth draws near, Doctor. You have thwarted our plans many times in the past. This must not be allowed to happen again."

The Doctor gestured around the ship. "This was one of them, wasn't it? This ship was part of the invasion fleet preparing to take over Earth in the late sixties, until I halted your plot with Tobias Vaughn. Clever of you to base yourselves in a crashed spaceship though, I must say."

A Cyberlieutenant approached. "Leader, the scout in Hong Kong reports the capture of the humans in the warehouse."

"Give the order to hand them over to our agent for recycling." The Leader turned back to the Doctor and Charley. "You too will come to serve the Cyber Race. Your intellect, Doctor, will be put to more use with us than it has ever been."

"If that's an attempt at flattery, you still have much to learn," the Doctor said.

"There is nothing to be learnt from emotional states. The acquisition of knowledge is the only reason to learn."

The Doctor sighed. "Your race is so rigid in its logic, sometimes you make me want to scream. But that would be an emotional reaction, therefore something you didn't understand. But it might be worth it, just to see your reaction."

"My reaction would be the same as to any outburst of emotion."

"Pity. Your trouble is you have no range."

"We do not need range, we have power," The Cyberleader told him, turning and walking away from its strange prisoners.

"That went well then," Charley commented, raising her eyebrows at the Doctor.

He shrugged, watching the guard carefully. "Plenty of time yet," he replied.

Goldfinger IE Limited Warehouse, Hong Kong

"What is that thing?" Svensson managed to gasp as the still wet Cyberman advanced slowly towards them.

"How disbelieving would you be if I said it was an alien being?"

"Around you, I would believe almost anything," she told him.

Bond nodded. "In that case, it's an alien being."

Svensson gaped at him. "You're serious, aren't you?"

"They're called Cybermen," he told her. "I won't bore you with all the details of their history, except to say they were once very similar to you and me until they discovered spare part surgery and got carried away. Result, a totally cybernetic race who live to convert others to their ranks and thus perpetuate their own species."

Svensson was still looking awe-struck. "What's in doing here?"

"Presumably working for Goldfinger, though why I'm not sure yet."

"You are correct, Mr Bond."

Bond and Catherine Svensson now found themselves between the Cyberman and Goldfinger, who had entered the warehouse using the same door they had. Behind Goldfinger was Chen, who was armed.

"Even by your standards, Goldfinger, this is a big mistake. The Cybermen do not form lasting alliances with lesser beings. And to them, every being is a lesser being."

"I think you underestimate me, Mr Bond."

"I think you overestimate your value to these tin soldiers."

Goldfinger stepped forward until he was standing directly in front of Bond. "Then let me demonstrate to you my value to my silver colleagues."

His right hand shot out faster than the eye could follow. His fingers fastened around Bond's neck and he lifted the British agent bodily into the air with no effort whatsoever. Bond started to turn red, his eyes bulging from their sockets. With a satisfied smile, Goldfinger lowered him slowly to the floor.

Bond rubbed his aching throat. "Very impressive. I assume it's more than just clean living and exercise?"

In reply, Goldfinger ripped the arm from his jacket and shirt. It revealed an arm encased in fine silver skin, tiny pipes imbedded in the flesh like veins.

Svensson gasped. "What is that?"

Bond answered. "He's being turned into a Cyberman."

"Why?"

"Because it is the ultimate power," Goldfinger said. "Strength, invulnerability, knowledge. All mine when I convert fully."

"How much of you has been converted?" Bond asked.

"Arms, legs, torso, internal organs. The only parts left are the ones that give the impression I'm still human."

"I wouldn't have said that," Bond remarked.

"You can't provoke me, Mr Bond. Not like the late Mr Carstairs."

"Late?"

Goldfinger nodded. "I had to terminate his employment."

"I hope he got a good benefits package."

"He won't be complaining. Now, I think it's time you saw my secret base. Before you die."

Bond grinned. "I collect secret bases."

"Then I hope I don't disappoint you," Goldfinger replied. He gestured to the Cyberman, who ripped aside a wall panel covering the entrance to a lift. "After you, Mr Bond."

Alien Spaceship, The Dark Side of the Moon

"Our agent reports that he and the scout have taken the prisoners to the control area under the warehouse."

"Confirm that we received the message and prepare the transmat for operation."

"Yes, Leader."

The Cyberleader approached the Doctor and Charley. "You two will accompany me to Earth."

"Excellent idea," the Doctor said briskly. "Why don't you nip on ahead and we'll follow in the TARDIS?" He tried to head for the door, but a towering silver form blocked his path.

"No, Doctor, we shall all go via the transmat."

"If you insist."

"Doctor, what's a transmat?" Charley wanted to know.

"It moves matter from one point to another, providing you have the right technology at each end."

Charley grimaced. "I hope they have the right technology."

"So do I," the Doctor told her.

"Cease talking and move directly onto the transmat terminal," the Cyberleader ordered.

"Pushy, aren't they," Charley commented as she and the Doctor stood on the raised area indicated to them. They were joined by the Cyberleader, the Cyberlieutenant and another Cyberman. The remaining silver giant stood looming over a control panel.

"Operate the transmat," the Leader commanded.

The remaining Cyberman did as it was instructed. The air around Charley seemed to spin, making her feel giddy.

As the effect ceased, she started to fall forward, until the Doctor caught her.

"The first trip through a transmat is always a little disorientating. You'll get used to it."

"Where are we, Doctor?"

The Time Lord looked around the impressive room, with its flashing lights and monitor screens. "I would guess this is the Cybermen's base on Earth."

Goldfinger's Underground Complex, Hong Kong

"I would guess this is the Cybermen's base on Earth."

"You would guess correctly, Doctor."

The Doctor and Charley turned to see Goldfinger standing behind them. Behind him were Bond and Catherine Svensson, under the watchful gaze of Chen and a Cyberman.

"Looks like the gang's all here," Bond quipped.

"Indeed," the Doctor replied. "I see you've met the neighbours."

"Our Cyber-friends, yes. Seems Mr Goldfinger has been making strange alliances."

"Sorry to interrupt, but this is my base and I think I should be the centre of attention," Goldfinger told them. "Now, would everybody listen to me please?"

They all fell quiet and looked at Michael Auric Goldfinger.

"Well, you've all done your best to poke your noses into my business, to try and stop my plans and close me down. But you've failed. My allies and I are now in a position to take over this planet and make it our own."

"Take over?" the Doctor echoed. "But there can't be that many Cybermen on Earth, surely?"

"You wouldn't think so, would you?" Goldfinger replied with a smile. "In truth there wasn't, but my friends have been busy recruiting recently."

"And I suppose that's what you have in store for us?" Bond inquired. "Recruitment?"

"What do you mean, recruitment?" Svensson demanded of Bond.

"Remember when I told you how the Cybermen recreate themselves? They convert people like you and me into beings like them. That's why we've been kept alive, to swell their ranks."

Her jaw dropped open. "They want to make me like them? That's obscene!"

"Isn't it just?" the Doctor said. He turned to Goldfinger. "So there is quite a Cyber army ready to take over the world again? Well, I've beaten them before and I'll do it again."

Goldfinger shook his head sadly. "Not this time Doctor. Before you get the chance to disrupt our plans, you'll already be like us. We can use your knowledge to our advantage."

"So your big silver friend told me," he said, nodding towards the Cyberleader, who just stared impassively at them all.

Goldfinger clicked his fingers towards one of the Cybermen, indicating the Doctor and his party. "See that these four are locked up safely."

The Cyberman nodded. It turned to the humanoids and waved its gun at them, pointing towards a doorway leading off from the main control room.

"We have much to do," the Cyberleader said to Goldfinger after the prisoners had gone. "I shall be returning to the spaceship, along with some of my crew."

"I shall contact you when all the elements are in place," Goldfinger replied as the Cyberleader and two of its subordinates stepped into the transmat. Moments later, they vanished.

***

"Okay, Mr Secret Agent, how do we get out of this one?"

Bond looked at Catherine Svensson. "Why ask me? The Doctor has been in more than his share of tight scrapes." He glanced at his fellow Time Lord. "So, how about it? Sonic screwdriver?"

The Doctor shrugged. "The Cybermen took it off me, I'm afraid."

The agent sighed. "Looks like it's down to me again then." He wandered away from them, looking around the room as if trying to find a way through the walls themselves.

Svensson shivered. "Are those things really going to turn me into one of them?" she asked the Doctor.

He looked down at his shoes. "I'm afraid the Cybermen will be only too keen to turn all of us into more of their own kind. It is their reason for existing, to make more Cybermen. It's built into their brains when they are constructed. It becomes their overriding motivation when they are activated."

"Sounds appalling," she commented.

"It is," he replied grimly. "We must get out of here, find a way to stop them."

"Doctor," Bond called from the other side of the room. The Doctor smiled at Ms Svensson reassuringly and nodded to Charley meaningfully before joining the agent.

"Don't worry," Charley said to Catherine when they were alone. "I've been travelling with the Doctor for long enough to know that he won't let anything bad happen to us. And I spent some time with James and he's a very resourceful chap as well."

"You're saying we could be in worse positions, I suppose," Svensson said with a slight smile.

"Why not? I have been," Charley told her.

The Doctor and Bond rejoined them. "Yames has an idea to get us out of here," the Doctor told them.

***

An alarm cut through the main control room. Chen looked up from where he was checking some documentation on a computer.

"What was that?"

Goldfinger glanced up from his monitor. "Fire alarm." He looked at a status board. "It's the storeroom where we put the prisoners." He stood and gestured to a Cyberman. "Go and see what is happening."

"At once," the silver alien replied, leaving the room.

"I still don't know how you control them like that," Chen said with a sigh. "I know you are nearly one of their number, but why do they do as you say?"

"Two reasons I suppose. Firstly it's my plan. Simple as that. And secondly I'm going to be converted into a Cyberleader, so they naturally obey me."

Chen nodded. "When you explain it like that, it does seem logical."

"And the Cybermen are nothing if not logical," Goldfinger said with a smile, returning to his monitor after switching off the alarm.

***

The Doctor had his ear placed against the door of their prison. "Sounds like the first part worked James."

Bond got down off the chair, where he had been holding his lighter under the smoke sensor. He adjusted it as Q had shown him, ready for the second phase.

The door slid open to reveal the expressionless face of a Cyberman. "Where is the fire?" it asked, surveying the four occupants of the room.

"Right here," Bond replied. Charley held her perfume bottle close and squirted while he activated the flame thrower part of his lighter. A fireball shot across the room, engulfing the silver alien from head to toe.

The Cyberman had dropped its gun, which Catherine Svensson retrieved. She tried to figure out the exotic weapon as the Cyberman thrashed about wildly in the doorway.

"Let me," Bond offered, taking the gun from her as he slipped the lighter back into his inside jacket pocket. He quickly found the gun's firing mechanism and proceeded to shoot the Cyberman down.

"Now what?" Charley wanted to know as they edged past the still alight corpse in the doorway.

"We scout around," Bond said, trying to decide which was the best route. "See if there is anything useful around to help us stop Goldfinger and his silver friends."

***

Chen looked up from where he was working. "We haven't heard back from your Cyberman yet," he commented.

Goldfinger met his gaze. Then he frowned. "You're right. I wonder why not." He clicked his fingers again and another Cyberman stepped forward. "Go and check on the prisoners. And find out why the other Cyberman I sent didn't report back."

The silver giant nodded once and left the control centre.

"You're not worried that they might be free?" Chen asked, referring to the prisoners.

"Not really. There is little they can do, even given the run of the base. All major areas are protected, so they can't do any damage to the great plan."

"I hope you're right," Chen muttered under his breath.

***

Bond, carrying the gun dropped by the Cyberman they had left on fire, watched the corridor for trouble while the others went through a doorway. After they had passed through, the agent followed and the door slid shut.

The four of them were standing on a metal gantry, suspended high above six huge tanks. Five of the tanks contained a rich, golden liquid, while the sixth had a dull grey slurry swirling within it. Down at floor level they could see Cybermen marching about, operating panels of machinery.

"Is that what I think it is?" Catherine Svensson asked, indicating the liquid in the five tanks.

"If you think it's liquid gold, then yes," the Doctor replied.

Bond pointed down to the floor of the chamber. "How come they are this close to the gold? Isn't it dangerous to them?"

"I think we're about to get the answer to that question," said the Doctor, pointing to the nearest tank. As they watched, a pipe that terminated above the tank spluttered into action, pouring a clear liquid into the tank with the gold. Almost instantly, the surface began to change colour, the gold being suppressed by a spreading grey stain.

"They're adding the changing chemical to the gold," Charley deduced.

"That's right," the Doctor said. "This must be all the gold that Goldfinger has accumulated, melted down. The Cybermen add the chemical to it, changing its nature. The gold is harmless to them in this form, as the chemical renders it safe for them to handle."

"You're saying that once the gold has been altered, it's no longer deadly to the Cybermen?" Bond wanted to know.

"That's exactly right," the Doctor told the agent. He lapsed into thought for a few moments. "We have an opportunity now, while there are still four tanks full of liquid gold, to stop this invasion in its tracks."

All eyes turned to the four Cybermen on the ground floor.

"How do we get past them?" Charley inquired.

"We explore our options," the Doctor replied. "Spread out up here. See what you can find that might be useful."

The four of them set off along the interconnecting walkways, searching for any way to put a spanner in the Cybermen's works.

It was Svensson who found the equipment locker. She called quietly to Bond, who was closest to her.

He quickly arrived to see what she had discovered. When he saw the equipment, he smiled. "Go and inform the Doctor and Charley that we may have an answer."

The two time travellers soon stood with the agent and the bank executive, examining the find.

"What are they for?" Charley asked.

The Doctor was shrugging on the harness of one of the units over his green velvet frock coat. Bond was pulling the other on himself.

"I would guess they are used for spraying the chemical onto bars of gold," the Doctor said. "Now, we need to flush the tanks, just in case."

"There was a washroom along that walkway," Charley told him. "I found it during my search."

The four of them made their way into the communal wash area. With the help of the women, the Doctor and Bond flushed out the tanks on their backs with fresh water.

"Ready?" the Doctor asked, glancing at the agent.

"Ready," Bond confirmed. "Let's do it."

***

The Cyberlieutenant was busy at the controls, arranging to deliver a measured amount of the chemical to tank three, when it saw the two humans walking calmly down the metal stairway leading from the top of the tanks.

The two conformed to the images stored in its memory banks of the Doctor and the British agent James Bond. But before it could step forward to challenge them, one of the closer Cybermen did just that.

The Doctor turned towards the advancing silver figure and brought up the thin metal pipe in his hand. He squeezed an activator and the pipe squirted a stream of liquid towards the Cyberman. The liquid hit it square in the chest panel and the Cyberman collapsed, emitting an electronic howl.

Another Cyberman was advancing on Bond, who repeated the gesture the Doctor had made. The result was exactly the same, ending with the Cyberman on the ground, clutching at its chest unit.

The Cyberlieutenant deduced what was happening. The tanks strapped to the backs of the Doctor and Bond must contain liquid gold. As the third Cyberman in the chamber fell to Bond's spray, the lieutenant decided that the Leader should be informed.

It had barely reached the communications panel when it felt a human hand on its arm. Turning, it found Bond trying to restrain it. Shrugging slightly, it sent the agent flying backwards across the floor.

But that was all the delay the Doctor needed. He got in close enough and fired a jet of golden liquid into the Cyberlieutenant's chest panel.

Darkness formed at the edges of its vision as it felt itself sinking to its knees. With a rattle of clashing gears, the lieutenant collapsed to the floor, dead.

***

As the last Cyberman fell, Charley and Catherine Svensson edged their way down the metal stairway.

"Are they all dead?" Svensson asked.

The Doctor nodded. "There was only four of them in here. Apart from the army Goldfinger mentioned, which is probably stored all in one place, I don't suppose there are many Cybermen actually around the place."

"I've secured the doors," Bond told them, returning from the doorway.

"Then let's take a look at the computer station, see what we can find," the Doctor said.

The four of them crowded around the monitor and keyboard as the Doctor tapped at it. He brought up a number of different things, from pictures of various parts of the base to requests for equipment and chemicals. As another image flashed up on the screen Bond stopped the flow with a hand on the Doctor's arm.

"There," the agent said, pointing. On the screen was a plan of the base, showing corridors, floor plans and ventilation systems.

The Doctor followed his finger, seeing what Bond was trying to show him. He raised an eyebrow at the agent. "Yes, it might just work."

Svensson and Charley looked curiously at the two Time Lords as they began outlining the basics of the idea that had formed between them.

***

Goldfinger punched the button beside the communicator. "Goldfinger here. What have you found?"

"The prisoners have escaped. The guard sent has been destroyed."

Goldfinger frowned. "Return here. I'll deal with this."

"They are loose in the complex," Chen commented.

"So it would seem," Goldfinger replied. His fingers flew over the keys of a computer, calling up images from around the base. Eventually he found one that was just static.

"Goldfinger to Gold Control. Goldfinger to Gold Control." He was greeted by a hiss from the speakers.

"Seems you've found them again," Chen said from his seat across the control room.

"Indeed," Goldfinger replied, rising from his own chair. He pushed a communicator switch. "All Cybermen currently on guard duties report to me outside Gold Control. We have escaped prisoners. All other Cybermen, remain at your posts."

"The only other Cybermen in the base are in this room," Chen observed.

"Then they will remain at their posts," Goldfinger repeated.

"Good luck," Chen said as Goldfinger walked past him towards the door.

"I don't need luck, Chen. And it would seem that Mr Bond's run of good luck is finally coming to an end."

***

Bond had found a length of tough but flexible plastic pipe, which he connected to the end of a metal section on the ground floor. The Doctor was busy working on the computer at the control panel.

"How are things at your end, Doctor?" the agent inquired, dragging the other end of the pipe towards the far wall.

"Fine," the Doctor called back. "I'm closing down various sections and making sure that the quickest possible route is available."

"Good," Bond said, wrenching the front off a grill that was part of the ventilation system. He pushed the pipe into the gap and glanced across at the Doctor. "I'm ready when you are."

"Don't you think that might need securing?" the Doctor asked him, indicating the pipe. "Given the pressure it's likely to be under, we don't want it slipping, now do we?"

Bond nodded. "Good point, Doctor." He looked around, then spotted something that seemed to serve his purpose nicely.

When the Doctor looked up next, he saw that one of the bodies of the Cybermen was now keeping the pipe in place. Bond was looking satisfied with himself.

"Nice idea," the Doctor commented. "I'm ready here by the way."

"Good," Bond replied. He went over to a section of pipework and turned a wheel. For a moment the wheel resisted, then it began to spin easily under his hands.

The plastic pipe began to shudder slightly, but the body of the Cyberman kept it in place. With a glugging sound, liquid gold began to pump its way through the pipe and into the ventilation shaft.

Bond walked over to where the Doctor was standing, studying the control screen. "You've closed everything between here and the target?"

The Doctor nodded. "The gold will make its way from here direct to the control room. Within minutes it will flood them with liquid gold."

Before Bond could reply, there was a heavy knocking at the main doors. Charley, who had been listening there, ran over.

"It's Goldfinger, by the sounds of it," she reported.

Moments later, the communicator chirped. The screen flickered, with the image of Goldfinger replacing the vent system.

"Doctor, Mr Bond. I know the two of you are in there, possibly with your lady friends as well. You can't get away, you know. And there is nothing you can do there to stop the invasion from progressing as planned."

"You would be surprised what we can do, Goldfinger," Bond replied. He released the button on the communicator and turned to the Doctor and Charley. "The two of you should go and help Cat. I'll hold the fort here."

The Doctor shook his head. "You'll need somebody here to watch your back."

"I'll do it," Charley volunteered. "You go, Doctor. You can be of more use to her."

The Doctor considered for a moment, then shrugged off his backpack. He passed it to Charley and helped her into it.

"You know how to work this?" he asked her.

She squeezed the trigger and a thin stream of liquid gold came out of the nozzle. "I think so," she said with a smile.

"Be careful," the Doctor said to both of them, then set off up the metal stairway, heading for the other exit that Catherine Svensson had taken half an hour before.

***

Goldfinger turned to the five Cybermen standing behind him. "You two, come with me. The rest of you, break down these doors and secure the control room."

The Cybermen acknowledged the orders and Goldfinger strode away from the double doors of Gold Control. He led the two Cybermen to an elevator and hit the up button.

They got out four floors up and Goldfinger once more led them towards the goal he had decided upon.

As they passed a side doorway, the door opened a crack and an eye watched them. As they disappeared around the far corner, the Doctor stepped out from behind the door, watching the space where they had gone.

"Be careful," he whispered, thinking of Charley and Bond before setting off in the opposite direction.

***

When Goldfinger didn't contact them again, Bond realised that his enemy was mounting a two pronged attack. Telling Charley to watch the main doors, he headed up the staircase towards the other exit.

As he reached the top floor gantry, the door at the far end burst open and two Cybermen marched in, followed by Goldfinger.

In the narrow space of the walkway, the Cybermen had to walk in single file. Bond advanced towards them, meeting the silver giants halfway.

The lead Cyberman wasn't expecting the stream of golden liquid that Bond squirted from the pipe in his hand. The creature fell to its knees, hands scrabbling at its chest. An electronic roar burst from its throat as it died.

The second Cyberman didn't wait, it just pushed its colleague out of the way, sending the dead Cyberman over the edge of the walkway where it fell to the floor with a crash.

Charley, waiting nervously near the main doors, flinched when the Cyberman fell to Earth. She looked up, to see another one reaching for Bond.

The pipe spluttered in Bond's hand. The gold in the backpack was starting to solidify, he realised. Squeezing harder, he managed to get a thin stream out of the pipe.

The Cyberman caught the gold right in the face. It staggered backwards as if it had been struck by something hard and heavy. With a vibration that shook the walkway, it fell on its back.

With the two Cybermen down, Goldfinger was left to step over the corpse of his silver colleague. He reached out and grasped Bond by the lapels of his jacket.

The pipe was now well and truly blocked. Bond was powerless in the grip of his enhanced enemy.

"Now Mr Bond, it's time for you to die."

***

As she watched Bond dispatch the second Cyberman, Charley's attention was caught by the sound of the double doors finally giving way to the combined might of three Cybermen. She stepped back slightly as the three silver forms towered over her in the doorway.

Charley brandished the pipe and squirted it towards the Cybermen. The leading one fell as the gold clogged the panels of its chest control unit. The other two pushed past the dying form, trying to catch the girl in a pincer movement.

But Charley wasn't having any of it. She followed the alien on her left, again firing a jet of liquid. Instead of watching this one as it fell, she was already turning to the right.

The silver giant was almost on top of her. She fell backwards, triggering the mechanism as she did.

The Cyberman let out an electronic roar as the gold pulsed through its system. It died almost instantly, falling on top of the human girl that had killed it.

Charley felt the air pushed out of her lungs as the giant creature started to crush her. How ironic, she thought, to destroy the last of them then be crushed to death under its body.

***

The Doctor discovered Catherine Svensson three floors down, in the medical bay. She nearly jumped a mile as he tapped her on the shoulder.

"Doctor! Did you have to do that?"

"Sorry," the Doctor replied, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Have you had any luck yet?"

"Nothing," she replied. "Are you sure there will be some around here?"

"Must be," the Doctor said. "How else would they have created such a large base underground otherwise?"

She shrugged. "I suppose you're right."

"Well, two pairs of eyes can search faster than one," he told her.

"What is happening up there?" she asked as they began to search.

"Goldfinger and the Cybermen had arrived just before I left."

She looked up, concern clouding her eyes. "Will they be okay?"

"Charley and Yames are both capable people. And they won't exactly have an army to deal with."

"I hope you're right."

Fifteen minutes later they found what they were looking for three rooms away from the medical bay.

"Will that be enough?" she wanted to know.

The Doctor nodded. "I should think so," he replied. "If they are placed correctly these will prove more than enough."

"Then let's get back and help James and Charley," Svensson said, heading for the door.

***

The gurgling roar of a Cyberman screaming alerted Chen to the fact that something was wrong. It was only when he looked down that he realised what it was.

Liquid gold was washing over the floor. As he looked around the control room, another Cyberman fell to the floor with a splash. Of the three remaining, two of them were backing towards the far wall in a display of fear that Chen thought he would never see.

The Cyberman that was not backing away was heading for the door. Suddenly a ventilator grill burst from a shaft at ceiling level. A spray of gold caught that Cyberman and it went down with a howl.

One of the other two had slipped and the gold, now up to Chen's knees, washed completely over the creature, cutting off the sounds of its death. The final Cyberman had climbed onto a console to get away from the rising tide.

Realising that the liquid could also drown him, Chen headed for the door. The last thing he saw as he left was the remaining Cyberman jump from one console to another. As it did, the creature slipped and vanished beneath the rising tide.

***

Goldfinger lifted Bond into the air and dangled him over the edge of the walkway. His feet kicked empty air above one of the tanks full of gold.

"End of the line, Mr Bond. Consider yourself lucky that you won't be alive when the Cybermen take over the Earth."

"I'll see you in hell, Goldfinger," Bond replied, trying the trigger once more. But it was still jammed.

"You have been an annoyingly persistent opponent Mr Bond. Goodbye."

Goldfinger released his hold and Bond fell towards the tank.

***

The Doctor and Cat Svensson had decided to take the shortest route back to Gold Control, which meant they arrived at the lower double doors, which had been forced off their hinges by the Cybermen. A quick glance around showed three silver corpses, one of which seemed to still be struggling.

It quickly became apparent that the struggles were from Charley, who was pinned under the body. The Doctor dropped the bundle he was carrying as he and Svensson lifted the creature off her.

Charley breathed deeply with relief. Then she looked upwards, to see how Bond was getting along. "James!" she exclaimed.

The Doctor and Svensson followed her gaze. As they did, they saw Goldfinger drop the agent from the walkway!

***

Reaching out at the last moment, Bond's right hand snagged the edge of the walkway. Swinging by one hand, he looked up to see Goldfinger peering down at him.

"My, you do like to outstay your welcome, Mr Bond," Goldfinger said with a sigh. He moved his foot over Bond's fingers, crushing them.

Bond gasped. He was rapidly running out options. His free hand went into his inside jacket pocket and found the lighter. There might just be enough left.

He pulled it out and flipped it open. Goldfinger was still looking over, waiting for Bond to fall.

Bond triggered the flame thrower part of the lighter. Goldfinger caught a blast full in the face. He staggered back, his foot lifting from Bond's fingers. This allowed the agent to get a better grip and haul himself back onto the walkway.

Goldfinger was still trying to orientate himself. Bond took full advantage and barged into his enemy. With a final scream, Goldfinger fell over the side of the walkway and plunged into a tank full of liquid gold.

***

The four of them were reunited on the ground floor of Gold Control. Both Cat Svensson and Charley hugged Bond and the Doctor shook him firmly by the hand.

After a few minutes of excited chatter, it came down to one question.

"So what now?" Svensson asked.

"Well," the Doctor said, "there are two things that still need clearing up. The Cybermen on the Moon and the army that has been created here on Earth."

"Did you discover where the army has been assembled?" Svensson asked.

"They are on the lowest level of the base," the Doctor replied.

Bond nodded. "I think Cat and I can deal with them," he said. "Can you and Charley see to the ones on the Moon?"

"I'm sure we can manage that," the Doctor said. "After all, the TARDIS is still up there."

"Then this looks like the parting of the ways," Bond decided. He shook hands with the Doctor and kissed Charley on the cheek. Then he stripped off his backpack and handed it to the Doctor. "Good luck," he said simply, picking up the package the Doctor had dropped earlier and backing out of the doorway with Svensson beside him.

When they had gone the Doctor turned to Charley. "Come along, we have work to do."

***

Bond and Svensson dashed through the lowest level of the base. As they turned a corner Bond noticed something down a side passage and decided to investigate.

"Well, well," he commented. "Seems Goldfinger kept a small submarine. I love a villain who has an escape route."

"He certainly won't be needing it," Svensson said with a smile as they continued towards their goal.

At the end of the main corridor they found what they were seeking. A large chamber full of dormant Cybermen.

"Were all these poor souls once human?" Svensson asked, handing Bond the detonators she had been carrying.

"Every last one of them," he replied, setting the explosives that Svensson and the Doctor had found earlier.

Catherine Svensson tried to count the number of Cybermen but found it was impossible to comprehend them all. "How long have they been here?"

"Quite a few years, I should think. Goldfinger took over the businesses from his father nine years ago, so probably eight at the very most."

She shook her head. "What a waste of life."

"You're starting to sound like the Doctor," Bond commented as he set the last of the explosive charges. He saw the look in her eyes and he softened his tone. "But I do know what you mean."

Moments later, he had placed the detonators and a timer device. They turned and dashed out of the room.

"Come on!" Bond called to her. "We have a submarine to catch!"

***

After clearing the pipes and refilling the backpacks, the Doctor and Charley made it to the main control room without any major incidents. They found the floor coated with sticky gold.

"It's starting to solidify," the Doctor told her.

They made their way over to the transmat pad. That area was raised above floor level, so had been untouched by the gold.

The Doctor set the controls and the beam took hold of them. Moments later they were on a similar pad on board the crashed spaceship on the dark side of the Moon.

Two Cybermen were working in the control chamber and they turned as one towards the transmat pad. Both got a chestful of liquid gold, one from the Doctor, the other from Charley.

They stepped down from the pad as the two Cybermen fell dead to the floor.

"How many more do you suppose are up here?" Charley asked.

The Doctor had found his sonic screwdriver lying on a side console. "Can't be many," he said, pocketing the device. "But neither of these two were the Cyberleader, so he at least must still be at large."

They stepped out into the corridor and were instantly confronted by a looming silver figure. It slammed the Doctor into a wall before Charley managed to bring her pipe to bear and sprayed it with gold.

"Thanks," the Doctor said, getting his breath back.

"My pleasure," Charley replied with a grin.

They made their way cautiously along the corridor, heading back towards the TARDIS. As they rounded a bend, the blue bulk of the ship came into view and Charley relaxed at last.

So she was unprepared for the Cyberman that reached out from behind the TARDIS and grasped her by the shoulder, metallic fingers digging in hard.

The Doctor came to her rescue, spraying her attacker in the face. As the Cyberman thrashed and died, the Doctor looked around them.

"Still no sign of the Cyberleader."

"You were looking for me, Doctor?"

The voice came from behind the Time Lord. Turning, he saw Charley in the grip of the Cyberleader. He must have been waiting behind the TARDIS as well, the Time Lord realised.

"Put down the weapon, Doctor, and I shall release the female."

"How do I know you won't snap her neck?" he shot back.

"You don't. But I know that humanoids place a lot of faith in an emotional state called trust. You will have to trust me."

"That's rather like trusting a Dalek to hold its fire in a room full of Thals," the Doctor replied. But he slid the pack off his back anyway.

"You have destroyed my entire force," The Cyberleader said, not releasing its hold on Charley.

"You were going to let her go," the Doctor reminded it.

"So I was," replied the Leader. It snapped the straps on Charley's pack and pushed the girl roughly over to join the Doctor.

As it did so, Charley spun and slapped a metal disc onto the front of its chest unit.

Charley grabbed the Doctor and pushed him ahead of her. She glanced back in time to see that the Cyberleader had removed the disc and was turning it over in its hand.

They ducked behind the TARDIS as an explosion ripped through the corridor. When the shockwave had died down, the Doctor and Charley poked their heads out. Bits of the Cyberleader were strewn along the length of the corridor.

"What was that?" the Doctor wanted to know.

"One of Mr Q's magnetic mines," she replied. "James gave it to me before we left."

"If we get the chance, we'll have to thank him," the Doctor said, unlocking the TARDIS and stepping aside to allow Charley to enter.

Goldfinger's Underground Complex, Hong Kong

Chen had to admit he was well and truly lost. He had only visited the base once before, and then he had been with Goldfinger all the way. Now he wasn't sure where he was.

He had found Gold Control, but that had been littered with the bodies of a number of Cybermen. Now he was wandering the lower levels of the base.

He heard a clang from nearby and went over to one of the portholes. This part of the base was underwater and he saw that Goldfinger's personal two-man submarine was leaving its pen. This filled him with hope and he began searching for another vessel that would take him to safety.

He was still searching five minutes later when an explosion destroyed the lower levels of the base.

British Intelligence Headquarters, London

"Thank you, Doctor," said M. "I'll pass this formula on to Q Branch. As soon as it has been tested we'll pass it on to all the other countries affected."

"Well, I tried it in the TARDIS on that gold bar you let me use, and it worked a treat."

M glowered at him. "That wasn't supposed to leave these premises!"

"Wasn't it?" the Doctor said casually, taking the gold bar from his pocket and dropping it onto her desk.

She picked the bar up and studied it. "It certainly seems like gold again."

"It is," the Doctor assured her. "All elements of pure gold have been restored. You would never know it had been changed."

"It seems we are indebted to you, Doctor," M said with a smile.

"And James, of course," said Charley from the comfort of an armchair.

"Speaking of James," M replied. She pressed an intercom switch. "Moneypenny, has Q arrived yet?"

"Q has gone home for the weekend," Moneypenny informed her. "But R has just walked in."

"Send him through," M said.

Moments later a tall man with a thin moustache and thinning hair walked through the door.

"Ah, there you are," he said. He carried a portable computer under one arm, which he proceeded to set up on the desk.

"This will link us directly to 007?" M asked.

R nodded. "There is a holographic communications module built into his watch. Its still at the experimental stage but it could improve communications in the field enormously."

He had finished with the computer and stepped back. In the air about the device an image began to form.

"The watch will pick up anything within its viewing range and amplify the signal, which it then sends to us. The reverse is also true, as it will project an image of us via the webcam attached to the computer.

The image was still fuzzy, but slowly becoming clearer. Everybody leant forward to get a better view.

"Can you hear me, 007?" M asked into the computer's microphone.

The image changed slightly. It was now clear that it was showing two people, very close together and horizontal. As it refined further, Bond's head lifted.

He cocked an eyebrow at the screen. It was now possible to see that he wasn't wearing much.

"What is it James?" came a female voice, that the Doctor, Charley and M recognised as Cat Svensson.

"It's nothing, darling," Bond replied. The image changed to show a large hand, then blackness. There was a flushing noise and then silence.

"Well, as I said, its still at the experimental stage," said a flustered R as he packed up the computer and exited the room quickly.

M sat there open mouthed for a moment, then turned to the Doctor and Charley. But it seemed they had slipped away as well.

Sighing, M returned to her paperwork.

Goldfinger's Personal Submarine, Near Hong Kong

"It's nothing darling," Bond said, reaching out for his watch on the cabinet beside the bed. He reached over and dropped it down the toilet, flushing as he did so. "Now, where were we?"

"Well, you were promising me the experience of a lifetime," Cat Svensson whispered.

"I thought we just did that?" Bond replied with a smile.

"What about a repeat performance?"

"There are far too many repeats these days," he told her. But he kissed her passionately and did as she requested.

