James Bond In WW2

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-Bond's P.O.V-

The grandeur of Château du Sangreal was almost distracting.

The masquerade ball was in full swing, the air buzzing with laughter and music.

Gilded chandeliers cast a warm glow over the grand ballroom, and elegantly dressed guests moved in rhythm to a waltz played by a live orchestra.

I don't know what was worse to endure, the pompous aristocrats or the Nazis in the crowd pretending to belong.

It was nauseating to be surrounded by both.

In spite of this, Evelyn and I blended in seamlessly—we just copied the arrogant personalities around us. Turns out it's easy to act like you're better than someone you hate.

"Stop glaring at the chandelier," Evelyn murmured, looping her arm through mine. "You're supposed to look enamored by the spectacle, not ready to burn it down."

"I'll take that under advisement," I replied, forcing a polite smile as we passed a group of laughing officers.

We moved through the crowd with calculated grace, navigating the sea of opulence to find our target.

The masquerade provided perfect cover; no one questioned who we were or why we were there, too absorbed in their own revelry.

Then I spotted him—Count Jean-Claude Charlemont, the man of the hour.

The Count was every bit the picture of nobility, a sharp chin jutted out of his black crow mask, which contrasted well with his graying hair. And his demeanor was cold as the champagne in his hand.

He stood near the head of the ballroom, entertaining a cluster of high-ranking Nazi officers with anecdotes I couldn't hear but assumed were tedious.

"That's him," I said softly.

Evelyn followed my gaze, her expression hardening. "What's the plan?"

"You distract him," I said, already scanning for my next move. "I'll slip away and handle the rest."

Her grip on my arm tightened. "Don't get yourself killed, James."

I gave her a brief, reassuring nod. "I won't."

Evelyn released my arm and moved toward the Count, her smile dazzling as she approached him.

I watched as she effortlessly slid into the conversation, her charm drawing the attention of the officers as if she were born for it.

Satisfied, I turned and slipped through the crowd, heading toward the servants' corridors.

---

The hallway leading to the castle's power room was deserted, the noise of the ballroom fading with each step.

My shoes made barely a sound on the polished floor as I approached the control panel, hidden behind an unassuming wooden door.

I pulled out a pair of wire cutters and quickly found the main power line. With one precise snip, the lights in the castle flickered before plunging into complete darkness.

I pressed the radio in my pocket, whispering, "Evelyn, lights are out. Get to the Safe-house for extraction."

The sooner she got away from the Castle before shit hit the fan, the better.

Her reply came through static but clear: "Understood. Be careful, James."

The line went dead. I turned on my flashlight at a dim setting and proceeded downward.

---

The castle's underground levels were a labyrinth of stone corridors and iron doors.

The smell of damp earth and oil filled the air as I moved carefully through the shadows.

Two German soldiers stood guard at the entrance to the lower levels, a lantern providing light amidst the black out. Their casual posture suggested they weren't expecting trouble, which made my job easier.

I stepped into the light, a pistol with a silencer in hand, and fired twice. Both men fell without a sound.

After stripping one of the guards of his uniform, I donned it and hid their bodies in a nearby storage room.

The German outfit fit snugly, and I adjusted the cap low over my face to obscure my features.

Opening the entrancd I descended a flight of stairs, following the faint hum of machinery, my thin flashlight leading the way.

---

The laboratory was as horrifying as I had imagined.

A massive Swastika flag hung above the entrance, its crimson and black a grim reminder of the enemy I faced.

Inside, the lab was dimly lit by the eerie green glow of bubbling canisters. Each one was marked with the Nazi insignia and labeled in German script.

Rows of gas chambers lined the far wall, their doors open to reveal twisted bodies within.

The victims looked poisoned, their skin discolored and their expressions frozen in agony.

I swallowed back bile and forced myself to keep moving.

A bit of searching led me to the main office, where I found a desk cluttered with documents. Transcripts, rough drafts...nothing substantial.

I was about to move on when I found a locked drawer under the desk. I picked the lock- a skill I'd learned from the streets- and voila, a large folder with Research Documents.

"Bingo."

I quickly but silently rifled through the papers, scanning schematics and reports. The contents were in German, but easy to understand even with my relative skill in the language.

A few seconds later, the truth hit me like a freight train.

Chemical weapons.

Gas bombs worse than the mustard gas used in the Great War decades prior, capable of wiping out entire cities in hours.

"This is the work of a madman," I muttered, horrified as I read the target list. At the top of the page was a name that made my blood run cold: London.

The sound of boots on stone jolted me from my thoughts.

I flicked off the flashlight and pressed myself into the shadows. Two guards entered, their flashlights sweeping the office.

One of them froze, his beam catching the edge of my boot. Fuck.

"Da ist jemand!"

The first shot missed me by inches. I lunged across the desk, grabbing the nearest guard by the neck and twisting sharply. His body crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

The second guard raised his rifle, but I was faster. I tackled him, the two of us crashed into a table.

Vials shattered around us, the air filling with the acrid stench of chemicals.

The guard's knee slammed into my ribs, knocking the wind from me, but I didn't let go.

Using an Aikido hold, I twisted his arm and slammed his head into the table.

His body went limp, and I grabbed my pistol, finishing the job with a single shot to the head.

My cover was blown. It was time to go.

---

Alarms blared as I moved through the underground complex, clutching the stolen documents to my chest.

Guards flooded the lab, their shouts echoing off the stone walls. I ducked into a side room, my mind racing. Luckily the lights were still out, providing a measure of cover.

Time to improvise. My eyes fell on a chemical vat near the lab's main support column. A detail from the research papers stated the chemical in it's liquid form was highly flammable. I held the flashlight next to the pistol and pulled two successive shots.

The resulting explosion rocked the entire castle, throwing me off balance and plunging the underground levels behind me into chaos as the burning green liquid spewed into the chamber.

Wearing a gas mask I pulled from an office, I passed by guards rolling on the floor and dying from the gas produced by the burning chemicals. Just like their victims.

At the entrance of the Lab, I threw a grenade I got from the Nazi guards inside and fled to the upper levels in the wake of the blast.

I passed by more guards, who let me pass after seeing the uniform.

The ball room was now lit up by Lanterns and the guests huddled in hush groups, protected by soldiers. I kept to the wall and left the Castle, nodding to anyone I met.

Once on the courtyard, my heart pounded as I sprinted toward the jeep I'd spotted earlier, just as a commotion started at my back.

"Wait! You there! Halt in the name of Dë Fuhrer!"

The sounds of shouts from the castle's enterance echoed through the open, reaching my ears like a distant, rhythmic drumbeat.

I threw open the door of the Jeep, sliding behind the wheel, just as a new round of gunfire rang out across the courtyard.

A hail of bullets struck the jeep, ricocheting off the armor. I slammed my foot down on the accelerator, the engine roaring to life.

The wheels kicked up gravel as I tore away, speeding and blasting through the stone gates of Château du Sangreal.

Behind me, a pair of jeeps pulled out from the side of the castle, hot on my trail.

I pressed my radio, activating a communication line to Evelyn, only to be greeted by static. "Evelyn? Come in. Are you there?"

Nothing.

Damn it. I assumed she was out of range, perhaps back at the Safe-house, too far to reach me now.

I stole a quick glance over my shoulder.

The cars were gaining, the headlights piercing the wooded night of the French landscape.

A plan formed in my mind. I swerved the jeep violently to the left, sending the vehicle careening down a narrow side road, barely wide enough for it to fit.

The pursuing vehicles followed, not willing to let me escape so easily.

I was no amateur driver, but this was going taking every ounce of skill I had.

The first jeep came too close, and I slammed the jeep into a hard left, narrowly avoiding a stone wall.

The second tried to brake in time, but it clipped the rear of the jeep, sending it into a spin.

I gripped the wheel, pulling it hard to the right to straighten the vehicle, narrowly avoiding a crash.

But the pursuers were relentless.

I reached into my pockets and pulled out a grenade, glad I carried them with me.

I pulled the pin with my teeth, counted out 3 seconds and tossed it behind the jeep, watching it explode in a brilliant burst of orange fire.

The first car skidded, its driver unable to maintain control in the chaos.

The car flipped, rolling across the road before coming to a wrecked stop, smoke pouring from its wrecked chassis.

The second jeep had swerved to avoid the debris, but I had already launched another grenade.

The explosion was deafening, and the car was tossed into the air, landing in a heap of twisted burning metal.

The adrenaline coursed through my veins as I pushed the jeep to its limit, the castle growing smaller in the rearview mirror.

Mission complete.

But even with the pursuers gone, the danger wasn't over. The documents in my lap contained secrets that were far too horrifying to consider. The Germans would be after me in full force.

I needed to find Eveyln so we could get the hell out of there. I just hope she made it out.