Always makes me feel a little meloncholy.
A grand old warship being ignominiously hauled
away for scrap.
The inevitability of time, don't you think?
What do you see?
A bloody big ship.
Excuse me.
007...
I'm your new Quartermaster.
You must be joking.
Why, because I'm not wearing a lab coat?
Because you still have spots.
My complexion is hardly relevant.
Well, your competence is.
Age is no guarantee of efficiency.
And youth is no guarantee of innovation.
I'll hazard I can do more damage on
my laptop, sitting in pajamas
before my first cup of earl grey,
than you can do in a year in the field.
Oh! So why do you need me?
...Every now and then a trigger has to be pulled.
Or not pulled.
It's hard to know which in your pajamas.
(Silence)
Q.
007.
Ticket to Shanghai
Documentation and passport.
Thank you.
And this.
Walther PPK/S 9 millimeter short.
There's a micro dermal sensor in the grip.
It's been coded to your palm print
so only you can fire it
Less of a random killing machine, more of a personal statement.
And this?
Standard issue radio Transmitter.
Activate it, and it broadcasts your location
Distress signal.
And that's it.
A gun...
...and a radio.
Not exactly Christmas, is it?
Were you expecting an exploding pen?
We don't really go in for that anymore.
Good luck out there in the field.
And please return the equipment in one piece.
Brave new world.