Young Miss Moneypenny

An imagined series with a young Jane Moneypenny when she joined MI6 in 1950. I imagine a young Lois Maxwell in the role. I do not own the rights to James Bond or other characters. This is just written for fun. This should be considered a prologue and has no sex scenes.

xxx

By a coincidence it was Jane's nineteenth birthday when she stepped into the grey looking building in Central London. Located at 54 Broadway, near to St. James Park underground station, it had been home to the SIS since 1926. To the general public the service did not officially exist but since the outbreak of war it bad been responsible for obtaining secret information and conducting covert operations around the world. Born in August 1931 the vibrant and attractive brunette had spent the past year working as a junior cipher clerk but had been yearning to step up the ladder for some time. Her friend Loelia Ponsonby, a principal secretary at headquarters, had told her of a lack of field operatives in the service, especially female agents, and Jane had applied for any and all vacancies.

"You're just the type they want Jane," said Lil. "Young, attractive and eager. You should get a position with the greatest of ease."

Jane had spent the best part of the morning getting ready and yet still she was undecided. As she gazed into the mirror she saw a tall, quite good looking brunette with clear blue eyes. She wore her hair in the latest fashion, that is a short cut bob of rolled curls and a centre parting. With outstanding long legs and wasp waist Jane had chosen to wear a check close fitting straight skirt and tight sweater. At five feet eight she chose flat heels as she didn't wish to appear to be too imposing at her interview.

"Could be worse." She said with a smile.

After what seemed an age filing and reading various codes Jane had been thrilled to be summoned for a meeting with the head of the Secret Intelligence Service. Known only as M he had been head of the service for many years and had dedicated his life to the job. Lil had told her not to be upset by his curt or even angry manner. It was just how he was.

"Thanks, Lil."

Jane had duly arrived and had made her way down a long corridor on the seventh floor to a large and imposing door. This led to M's staff office where she found his personal secretary sitting at a desk with typewriter clattering away and three different coloured telephones.

"You may go straight in." The woman said without lifting her eyes.

"Thank you."

Moneypenny opened the adjoining door and entered a quiet office where M himself sat hunched over his desk in a cloud of pipe smoke. He wore eyeglasses and looked about sixty with a bald spot at the back of his head. She stood on ceremony until he waved to a seat opposite him as he wrote on a single sheet of paper. Jane sat and looked around at the paintings of galleons and warships on all the walls. She sat straight backed with her hands folded in her lap. M finished writing with a flourish and tossed his fountain pen with the green ink aside.

"I'll be perfectly blunt with you, I disapprove of female agents in the field but realise that they are a necessity."

He removed his spectacles and looked at her with a steady gaze. Affectionately known by his admin staff as the 'old man' he ruled the house with an iron fist. At his advanced age he had an old fashioned view of women and their place in society.

"I'm trying to build up a team that I can rely on, efficient, dedicated and disciplined. Seven days a week. What makes you think you are up to the task?"

Jane has been temporarily mesmerised but blinked hard twice to clear her head.

"Well, I have a year's experience in the cipher section and have signed the official secrets act. I am fit, healthy and have a sharp mind. I like to think I have a low threshold of pain, and have no problem in working alone or in teams. I can speak Spanish and French and understand a little German, thanks to the war."

"You are quite attractive."

"Why, thank you."

"It wasn't meant as a compliment. Married? Got a boyfriend?"

"Happily single, Sir."

"The war has changed the way we live in countless ways. Even Mata Hari appears as a timid school mistress compared to these times we live in. There may well be occasions where you will be required to seduce, or be seduced by enemy agents or others we suspect on harming the interests of the country. Any thoughts on that?"

Again he scrutinized her as she nervously crossed her legs. Indeed, would she cope in such a situation? Was she getting out of her depth?

"As Churchill said we are in the grip of a cold war thanks to the Russians lowering an iron curtain through the heart of Germany. The service is going to called upon more and more often in these so called peaceful times."

"I think I'm up to it, Sir. If you would allow me a chance."

"Very well, Moneypenny. I shall give you a chance. Everybody in the 'Firm' is required to complete a training course, whether they be secretaries or agents in the field. Once completed I will keep you in mind. You will need a passport, one in your real name and one with an alias. I have a man in mind to take you under his wing. Name of Bond. Heard of him?"

"No Sir."

In fact Jane did know about Mister James Bond, being how he was a popular topic of conversation of the so called powder vine, a ladies cloak room gossip network. James Bond, legendary seducer and lothario. At heart he was a sex addict. He drove a customised Bentley and liked fine food and drink. Smoked seventy a day. He had served in the War where he had risen to the rank of Commander in the Royal Navy. Born in 1930 his parents had died when he was only eleven and an aunt had raised him up until the outbreak of war. He was single and driven by an ambition to succeed. He was fearless and bold and astonishingly good looking.

"Ever fired a weapon?"

"Never." Said she as she emerged from her daydream.

"First thing tomorrow go down to the basement where you'll find the firing gallery. I'll have Bond meet you."

"Thank you, Sir. I won't let you down."

"Quite, that will be all."

x

The next morning Jane arrived at eight sharp and descended in a slow moving lift to the basement gallery where she met a young firearms officer who showed her the rest room. Then a Major Boothroyd, the head of Q Division which was the armoury of the service, came in and introduced himself. Bond was thirty minutes late and appeared somewhat bemused and unattached as he came in. He straightened his two piece suit and Jane noted his remarkable physique under it.

"Miss Moneypenny, I presume? The name's Bond...James Bond."

He held out his right hand and she took it in hers and was astonished at the strong shake, as if holding a bear paw.

"Mister Bond. Delighted to meet you."

He held onto her hand for an unusually long time as she studied his rather cruel good looks. Steely grey eyes looked back at her as an errant lock of his short black hair fell over his right brow. His only flaw was the three inch vertical scar on his right cheek.

"Thank you Major, I'll take it from here."

Boothroyd withdrew with his junior and left the pair of them alone. "I understand you wish to join the Firm and need a lesson or two in shooting a gun. Well we all need to know how to protect ourselves in the field. Firearms serve two functions. One is to attack, and the other is defence. Right handed I presume?"

Jane had been listening while she peered directly into the eyes of the young man. She had to blink hard to come back to earth.

"Yes, that is, I'm right handed."

The table in front of them had an array of different handguns and Bond picked up the ACP Beretta .25 calibre pistol. She watched him as he unloaded the magazine, checked the ammunition and reloaded the gun with a loud crack.

"Take it and let your hand feel the shape. Let it feel like it's a part of your palm."

Jane turned it over in her hand and jiggled it up and down. Light in weight and cold to the touch. She pointed it up in the air and Bond cried out.

"No! Always point downwards in the company of others. You'd be surprised at how many accidents take place in the home so to speak."

"Of course, silly of me. Carry on."

"I will. Where do you suppose you will carry the gun on your person?"

"Why, I never gave it any thought."

"I always wear mine on my left just under the armpit. Doesn't spoil the line of my suit and is good for a quick draw. How about behind your back?"

Jane had a light cotton swing dress in teal with a scoop neckline and spaghetti straps. The skirt flowed full and had two handy side pockets. Her shoes were strappy sandals in mint green with a modest two inch heel.

"Excuse me?"

Before she could utter another word she had been spun around and bent forwards at the waist as Bond examined her rear. He held her by the hips as he shook her from side to side in a rocking motion, his eyes firmly on the small of her back.

"Steady!"

"I can see that might be a problem. Maybe the thigh."

With mouth agape Jane had the hem of her dress lifted above her pantie line as Bond ran his hand across the outside of her right thigh. He lingered at the soft flesh of her slender leg between the top of her stocking and the bottom of her knickers.

"Hey! You're a little fresh aren't you buster?"

Bond ignored her as he gave a final squeeze and down her dress again.

"Hmm, that's something that needs a bit more thought."

Really, she thought. This guy was a fast mover that's for sure. Only ten minutes in and he had her dress up to her navel! Bond handed over a pair of ear protectors and heavy duty glasses.

"Here, put these on and watch me."

She stood back slightly and watched intently as the confidant man looked down the range, stood with feet apart and raised his pistol in a two handed grip.

"Always have a firm hold on the grip and focus on the target with one eye closed."

He looked down the sight and squeezed off six rounds rapid at the bull which was fifty feet away. In the small confines of the gallery Jane could not help but yelp and flinch with each successive round. Emptying the magazine he reeled in the target with a winding contraption and brought the ruined paper bullseye in. Six bulls.

"You shoot rather well. Ever kill anybody?"

Bond shot her a look that made her want to bite her tongue. What an idiotic thing to say!

"Now you try."

Jane took the reloaded Beretta and tried to imitate her tutor. She raised her arms and stretched them out straight in front of her. Holding her breath she paused until suddenly Bond yelled out "fire!"

"Oh!"

Jane shot off six rounds, each one punctuated by a two second gap. The recoil was to be expected but not too bad. Bond wound in the target and examined the results. The thing had numbers going out from the centre, 10 to 5. Jane had hit the ring numbered seven three times and the number six three times.

"Pretty good for a first attempt. How did it feel?"

"Good. The gun is light and fits in the palm nicely."

"Right. I always like the Beretta. Fits under my shoulder perfectly and is never noticed. And no. Despite my being in the war I have never killed."

With that James Bond turned on his heels and was gone. The junior officer rejoined her and handed her a note, written in green ink.

"Report to my office tomorrow morning for further instructions concerning a matter of most urgency. M."

"So soon."

This is what she had signed up for she thought as a flutter of excitement made her shudder.