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I actually think the poster looks great! I prefer it to the Skyfall official poster.
Very interested for sure! :)
Re the poster, try using a sans serif font, this would be cleaner, easier to read and classier. I'm afraid old English is a no-no.
Dalton is my favourite Bond and I would have loved to have seen two or three more Bond films with him.
@Lancaster007, thanks for your input, but trust me I have ABSOLUTELY no photoshop skills. Just a small chickenscratch attempt. Thanks anyways.
Alright, here we go.
Prologue (Part I):
Watching the clock on the wall tick tock. Tapping her fingers on her desk, sighing impatiently, is Dawn Wallace. Getting more impatient and obviously nervous, she checked her wristwatch. The time wasn't much different.
'Waiting to go home, Dawn?' asked the man sitting at a desk across from her.
Dawn nods her head, 'Just seems like hours.'
'Well, why don't you go ahead? I'll cover for you.'
Dawn smiled. 'Would you really? Thank you so much.' She slid her desk drawer open, grabbing her purse out of it, and hurried out of the office in the elevator.
Exiting the Mi6 headquarters, she hailed for a taxi cab, which came to her rescue from the rain.
Finally at home, Dawn went to work on a small project. She sat her at the workbench in the garage, on a clock. The final screw came loose and allowed Dawn to open the back of the clock. She sighed, realizing she's taking a serious risk. She ducked down to pull out a chest from under the bench. Unlocked, she opens it to find a lone envelope, just sitting there, staring back into Dawn's uncertain face.
'You need to do this, Dawn,' she whispered to herself. She shut her eyes, taking a deep breath, and relocated the letter in the clock's empty body.
Sotheby's was crowded, usually filling the rooms with the rich and the famous, ready to acquire expensive items. The odd one out there, was Dawn, sitting alone at an auction. Items were bid while Dawn showed disinterest and boredom. It wasn't until a clock- Dawn's clock- appeared. Suddenly, Dawn sat up, tense.
'An original Peter Carl Fabergé, this clock was purchased by Tsar Nicholas II and the Empress Alexandra Feodorovna in 1896,' announced the auctioneer, 'just weeks after they were married. One of the first... '
Tuned out, Dawn thought about it- running up to the clock and smashing or stealing it.
'We'll start at fifty thousand pounds.'
Alert, Dawn coughed. A black man in a grey suit across the room took notice and bid.
'Fifty thousand for the man in the grey suit. Do I hear sixty?'
A bidding war occured between the man in the grey suit and an older man, which led to the victory of the grey suit.
'Sold, to the man in the grey suit.'
In the lobby, Dawn waited. A feeling of relief and regret washed over her. Those feelings turned to fear after a hand was felt on her shoulder. Dawn turned around to see the man in the grey suit.
'You'll be hearing from us soon,' remarked the stranger.
'I did my part. Can you do yours now?'
The man chose not to answer and left.
'Please' she begged, 'don't hurt her.'
After a ride home which seemed like hours, Dawn entered her flat and shut the door before she broke into tears. She dropped herself to the floor like a sack of flour, unable to control herself. She wept, as it hit her like a train, realizing what she had done. After taking a deep breath, she noticed something amiss. She looked up to see a figure sitting in the corner.
'Who's there?' No response. 'I'm calling the police.' Dawn stumbled up back into the wall, flipping the light on. ''James?'
Bond stared back, still not saying a word.
'What are you doing here?'
'M really doesn't mind you having a hobby, Miss Wallace. He'd just prefer it if it wasn't selling secrets.'
'Look, I... you have to let me explain.'
'You don't have to. I get it. We did a little checking up on you. Your sister was in the States, wasn't she?'
Dawn's silence confirmed Bond's question.
'She went missing, without a trace. No clues, no leads. Then one day, you got contacted, didn't you?'
The silence answered again.
'Somebody kidnaps your sister, threatens to kill her if you don't cooperate.'
'You would have done the same.'
'No, that's the difference between us. You're a... a low level government employee, easier to manipulate. But I can help you.'
Silence filled the room. Dawn and Bond were locked in a staring contest.
'How?'
'Tell me everything. Who are they, what you told them, anything that can help us.'
'I just want my sister back.'
'And you will, provided you tell us enough to track down the people who did this.'
Dawn sighed. 'Would you be interested in tea?'
'Help yourself.'
Dawn goes into the kitchen, somewhat relieved that someone is finally here to help. An answer to her prayers, even.
Shatter.
Bond peeked into the kitchen. 'Did you drop something?'
Dawn fell to the floor, gasping. Bond came to her side, concerned for her well being. Blood, in her torso.
'I'm sorry,' Dawn moaned as she went on.
Bond jumped up his feet, finding the broken glass by the window still. Sniper, Bond thought, There's no other explanation.
Part II coming soon!