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</div>Jasmine Bond was not entirely happy at being packed off to some English college for the Rich and Famous. "Mummy, seriously, there's plenty of great colleges around Edinburgh, Why do I have to go to an English one?" She was still complaining as her uncle's<a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fhips.hearstapps.com%2Fhmg-prod.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fimages%2Fno-time-to-die-set-visit-matera-07-1633708069.jpg%3Fcrop%3D0.888xw%3A0.446xh%3B0.112xw%2C0.295xh%26resize%3D1200%3A%2A&amp;hash=217e6f98b81a4e27efc5892bc4370a3b" href="https://hips.hearstapps.com/hmg-prod.s3.amazonaws.com/images/no-time-to-die-set-visit-matera-07-1633708069.jpg?crop=0.888xw:0.446xh;0.112xw,0.295xh&amp;resize=1200:*" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">Aston Martin</a>roared along the M4 from Heathrow, heading for an undisclosed location that so far as she knew was "on the coast". Her voice had the light Scots burr of a lowlander, unlike her Mother Arlene Bond (nee MacGregor) who had a proper Highland brogue.<br/><br/>"Och sweetie we've bin aever this a'reedy sae many times, Ye need te stae yer haverin', and dae wha' ye're taeld." Her mother's voice was slightly distorted by the smart phone she was using to try one last time as the car took the turn onto the M5, heading for the West Country with it's seemingly infinite supply of smugglers' coves and granite cliffs.<br/><br/>"Uncle James...?"<br/><br/>"Oh no. Don't get me involved in this one..." The infamous Double-Oh agent had a stoic expression on his face, his eyes glued firmly to the road as he tooled the Aston through the traffic around Bristol.<br/><br/>Jasmine sighed and ended the call, relaxed into the seat and closed her eyes. This was probably the safest car in the world to be driven in, given that it was capable of withstanding anything up to a tank main gun round at point blank range. She'd lost the fight and was doomed to spend three entire years studying Political Science at a place with no academic references that no-one had ever heard of (except, apparently, her Uncle). And all because her dad, whom she'd never actually met, had suddenly turned up at 85 Albert Embankment... At least, his head had. Where the rest of him was, no-one knew. From what she understood, the late brother of James Bond had gone on some deep undercover mission when she was six, and had never been seen again until the postmaster at SIS headquarters had x-rayed a suspicious package and found it contained a human head.<br/><br/>Jasmine wasn't exactly upset about it, after all she didn't know the man. No. what upset her was that she was now forced to cancel her hard earned spot at Edinburgh University because it wasn't safe.<br/><br/>She must have dozed off because the next thing she knew Uncle James was shaking her awake. "We're here," he told her, rolling his Rs the way she did.<br/><br/>She muttered something that might have been "Thank you," as she clambered from the car. The boot popped open and she retrieved her bags. Including the one that the<a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fi.pinimg.com%2F564x%2F08%2Fc1%2F8f%2F08c18fff3b9d651460dbbc9c90f72f54.jpg&amp;hash=3fbc215763990dd6dfefb3b1becf3ecd" href="https://i.pinimg.com/564x/08/c1/8f/08c18fff3b9d651460dbbc9c90f72f54.jpg" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank"> wrinkly old quartermaster</a>had thrust on her as she was leaving Heathrow. Uncle James had said something about "Starting a back to school range now, are we now, Q?" To which the old man had responded "Oh grow up, Double-Oh Seven," and then proceeded to explain a variety of extremely lethal devices concealed within what looked like a perfectly ordinary backpack and handbag.<br/><br/>Uncle James lifted her holdall easily onto his shoulder, grunted and dropped it to the ground, allowing the wheels to take the weight as they headed for the front door. A grey haired man with a moustache waited to greet them, along with a cute is somewhat stuck up loking girl about Jasmine's age. The man greeted Uncle James like an old friend, and then turned to Jasmine.<br/><br/>"So this is your niece. My condolences on your loss, my dear."<br/><br/>Jasmine shrugged. "I never knew him..." It had become a formula, a rote reply that she gave whenever anyone mentions the death of the British Agent that noone had even known existed, for twelve years.<br/><br/>"Ah. Hmm. Well... This is my daughter Tracy, you'll be rooming with her."<br/><br/>Uncle James' eyes did that thing they did when he saw a pretty woman. "My my, Tracy. you've grown. Last time I saw you, you were this high and in pigtails...!"<br/><br/>"Oh Grow up, Uncle James!" Jasmine couldn't resist it, and only just managed to stop herself using the code number. She didn't know how much people here knew. But she did do a pretty good impression of Q's voice.<br/><br/>"Hmm, Yes, you two run along. Principle Milbanks and I have matters to discuss."<br/><br/>Jasmine sighed and took the tow handle of the holdall from her uncle. "Okay, well, Lead On."