#army tank dive miami

[unstoppableforcce]

dark side

—CHAPTER TWO: complicated

pairing: Javier Peña x reader

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a/n: this part may not flow the best but I think the next chapter is where a lot of it is going to come together. I just really love these two but to show y’all why, I have to get to the next chapter so bear with me here

There’s more to Colombia than drugs and communists.

He’d been in deep in this game for longer than he liked to admit, but he had never once heard a single soul at the Embassy acknowledge the country for anything more than America’s playground as moral authority. The United States government wanted to protect their interests, they put the DEA on the ground to stop the coke influx stateside and they put the CIA there to make sure their precious capitalism was protected.

That was drugs and that was communism. So what the hell did you mean when you said there was more?

He understood the greater sense of the sentiment, that it’s a real country with real people and real culture, but he figured that wasn’t what you had meant. When you said it, you meant there was another reason for you to be in Colombia.

Not something as big as coke and communism, otherwise Stechner would have never pulled you off of it, but clearly something big enough to piss you off about the new position you had in his bullpen. He just didn’t know what.

What he did know was that Stechner, for all that he was, was not lying when he said you were good at your job.

Javi spent the majority of his days trying to keep his head down in budget meetings and strategy discussions with the Ambassador, the Colombian government, and more men in suits than he cared to count, but you sat at your desk, and against every grain of rational thought you surely possessed, did work as you were ordered. Reviewing intelligence reports from the police that gave up nothing because the police were paid to give up nothing, transcribing summaries on useless movements of underling cartel members, making phone calls for tips that turned out to be nothing 99% of the time and most of all, leaving the room whenever he wanted to talk without CIA ears around.

In all honesty, he had never, in a million years, expected you to have been telling the truth when you said you didn’t want to be the spy you were placed there to be, but each and every day, he showed up to the office and there you were, already there before him, head down and doing work that wasn’t close to worth your time.

He just didn’t get it. He didn’t get you.

But against as better judgement, he was starting to think that maybe, just maybe, he was starting to believe you, to trust you.

So when the reporter outside all but told him explicitly that the accidental gas leak in Cali was a coverup, he got stuck on an idea he knew was bad the second it hit his mind.

“Can we talk in my office?”

Standing at the front of your desk as you listened to tapes through headphones, at first all he got was a finger held up to his face, asking him to wait while you tried to hear the last of the recording. From the looks of the files scattered across the top of your desk, it looked like it was probably a tape from a cornerstone interrogation in Miami.

However, from the look of the empty pad underneath the tip of your pen, it wasn’t yielding much in the way of information.

After a few seconds, you stopped the tape and pulled the headphones off, looking back up to him, “yeah?”

“My office?”

You nodded, following him in through the sliding glass door and waiting by his desk as he slowly shut it behind him. “Is there a problem?”

“What do you know about this gas leak?” He asked somewhat mindlessly as he slid around you and sat back at his desk. If this whole ‘putting a plant on his team’ thing was under the cover of interagency cooperation, shouldn’t he be getting something out of it too?

Judging by the way your brow quirked, he figured maybe not.

But after a second to steal a glance to the bullpen then to scan over him, your face returned to the look before the shock and you took a step closer with a shrug of your shoulders. “What do you know?”

“That there was a gas leak.”

You scoffed at that, shaking your head. “Amazing detective work there—“

“What do you know?” He was quick to cut you off before your sarcasm could make a full appearance but you merely shrugged again.

“They’re calling it an accident.” You took a step forward, resting your hands on the back of the chair across from him, “I think anyone with the ability to think for themselves know it probably wasn’t, or at least, not the kind they are going say it is.”

“You have more information that we do?”

“The CIA has guys on the ground in Cali, you don’t.” Everything sounded so matter-of-fact when you said it, like you had this infinite knowledge and his questions merely bored you. He hated that he wanted to know what you know, he hated it because he knew how you knew it.

Looking at you, he didn’t see you as the enemy anymore, but you certainly weren’t an ally, not as long as you were CIA. He couldn’t ignore that.

“I kind of got shit on the last time I had guys in Cali.” He tried to play off casually, like the weight of the mistakes made wasn’t still sitting on his shoulders, like he didn’t have to send two perfectly good agents back to the states to appease the absurdity of the situation...

But it got you to chuckle, a break in your serious disposition he had yet to see from you until now. And he really didn’t mind it. If anything, he wanted more.

“You have to play by the rules.” You smirked, “until you can’t.”

He quirked his head at that this time, “What do you know that I don’t?”

Another chuckle. He was in much deeper than he thought if you were going to keep doing that.

“The total tonnage of what I know that you don’t...” you shook your head as you trailed off, patting the chair gently before standing back up to full height. “You trust your people more than me anyways, right?”

He gave a curt nod.

“Then put some of them on the ground in Cali.”

With that, he gave you another nod and watched you leave, back to your desk to do more work that was so far beneath your skill level it wasn’t even funny. And that night, long after he noticed you leave with a stack of files under your arm, he turned on his TV to watch the news call the leak in Cali an accident, and like you said, it didn’t feel right.

He needed people in Cali, despite everything the ambassador wanted from him and Stechner expected of him, he knew what he wanted from himself.

He wasn’t so much as sleeping these days as he was laying in bed, threatening to succumb to the hellish weight of guilt on his chest. Both from the past and from now. And it certainly didn’t help that every time he fell to his bed even slightly sober that he was enraptured with thoughts of you and that one idiotic night.

The days of using woman as sources were over now that he was dealing with Cali and not Escobar, so his days of going home with anyone else had really ended the night he was with you and getting off to the thought of you, the CIA agent, and his hand certainly wasn’t helping his conscience.

He knew what he needed to do, he knew he needed to be a real agent again, supposed surrender or not.

So that night, before he left the office, he ordered Fiestl to Cali with his partner, and by the time he made it home, he actually caught an hour of real sleep.

Turns out you gave good advice.

Not just on putting men in Cali, but two days later, when he found you lingering by the coffee pot, you silently encouraged him to “follow the money”, and you were right then too.

The combined wit of himself, your sly commentary, and the ample help of the reporter and he found himself thanking Bill Clinton and knowing the name of the cartel’s money man within a matter of days. It was luck he hadn’t had in a very long time, so long that it felt way too good to be true.

He was getting back into the rhythm that reminded him of working on Escobar, doing real work, working towards real answers. He lacked good men to bounce ideas off of, missing Murphy and Carrillo more and more everyday, but he was doing good work. For the first time since he had been back in Colombia, he felt like he was doing the right thing.

He should’ve know the second he moved for a plane to Panama that nothing could ever work this perfectly for him, he just didn’t deserve it.

But you looked good in fatigues.

He wished he could’ve done more looking at the way you were practically highlighted against the drab airfield by the sharp cuts of your black tank top and the stilling army green of your cargo pants. He wished he could’ve taken a dive head deep into that distraction but he couldn’t.

As with every time he almost got caught staring at you, he was painfully reminded of exactly who you were. This time, it was you arguing with Stechner to pull him back to reality.

He didn’t hear the argument, he could just see the two of you were locked in it as he approached. By the time Stechner spotted his approach, he dismissed whatever you were saying and ended the conversation before Peña came close enough to hear.

He caught your stare briefly, noticing what he almost tricked himself into thinking was a blink of apology in your sincere stare, but he knew now that he didn’t have that kind of luck.

“What the fuck is going on?” He turned to the CIA station chief, trying to figure out if he really knew the definition of smug until he met him.

“Orders are orders, you heard the ambassador.” Stechner responded simply, the same kind of simple he always got from you, but at least a thousand times more superior in every way as he crossed his arms over his chest and gave a minuscule shrug. “Our friends from the senate want the down low from a real life hero.”

He heard your scoff from where you leaned against the helicopter, even as you tried to muffle it.

“Guess that’s you.” Stechner continued on, gesturing with a turn of his shoulders to the senators he had met earlier in the week, suiting up in vests and boots. “You got somewhere better to be?”

With that, he turned away completely, leaving just you, still leaning against the helicopter colored in the same shade of camouflage green as your fatigue pants were.

“You’re wearing the wrong shoes.” You tried to joke out but it was clear even through the heavy sheet of tension between the two of you that he didn’t find it very funny.

He let out an exhausted sigh and reluctantly loaded into the helicopter with you, Stechner and the two senators, pulling out his tie as he did. Unfortunately, as you moved for the empty seat next to him, Stechner grabbed ahold of your hand and redirected you to the seat next to him, leaving the prime real estate next to Peña wide open for the desperately chatty senators.

You tried to offer something of an apology in your stare as you pulled your headphones on and strapped in, but either he wasn’t reading into it what you were putting into it or he was just too annoyed to care. You certainly had no problem reading the frustrated annoyance in his stare, especially as the senator next to him tried to ask some question you couldn’t hear over the noise from the helicopter.

After a while of traversing over the seemingly endless green landscape, you felt the acceleration shift as the chopper began to land, but as you hopped out behind Stechner and tried to steal a glance back to Javier, he was back to ignoring you, stripping off he jacket and rolling up his sleeves.

He was terribly overdressed for a day in the jungle, which was a shame, it was a good suit on him.

As Stechner began his lecture for the Senators, you specifically hung back to be only a step in front of him.

“You were out, otherwise I would have warned you.” You offered over you shoulder once you were convinced the senators were entranced by the demonstration.

He was out tailing the king of cartel money laundering, he was making real progress... he couldn’t help but roll his eyes, no matter how genuine you sounded.

“I’m being serious—“

“I’m supposed to trust you?” He spoke in more of a whisper as he crunched through the jungle on your heel.

“Some things do exist outside my range of control, Peña.”

He starts making real progress and he gets detoured like this? No matter what you argued, mo matter what he thought about his own bad luck, coincidences like this didn’t just happen. He wasn’t needed here, ambassador’s orders or not, what the hell did the senators need to come out here for anyways?

Then came the smell.

The jungle had its own smell, but coke and dead bodies always managed to shine through.

“FARC or traffickers?” The senator asked.

“Both...” he heard Stechner say as he continued his explanation.

A blatant lie. All of this was a big fucking lie, one you seemed to have a personal hand in telling now that Stechner turned to you and easily coaxed facts from you, he couldn’t stand it.

He peeled off from the group, just trying to get out of his head but by the sound of crunching jungle beneath boots from behind him, he knew you were close following. Turning back towards you, he threw his hands up by his sides and let a scoff slip out, not expecting you to flinch but in no way comforted by your near robotic stare directed back his way.

Glancing behind you to be sure the senators and Stechner were out of range, he blew out a breath and turned back towards the jungle, “this whole thing is staged.”

You didn’t respond though, you just maneuvered around him, coming face to face with him.

“These aren’t traffickers.” He would kill for a cigarette as he stared you down, “they’re strapped with AK ammo and those fancy guns Stechner had you modeling are M-4s.”

“You know your guns...” you mused carefully and he purposefully scoffed directly in your face this time.

He was so far from amused, your comment barely registered with him before he continued on, “He’s using you as what? The pretty face behind all of this?”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing, like you’re the hero who brought down Escobar.” Shooting back, you took a challenging step up towards him. “He’s using you too.”

“You think I don’t know that?” He didn’t raise his voice, but his low shift in tone was just enough to send shivers down your spine.

But you weren’t one to back down, “Well you could’ve fooled me—“

“You’re the one who plays along—“ he was just as quick.

“It’s my job to play along, what the hell is your excuse?”

He stopped for a second, realizing just how close to argument brought him to you and took a step back, scratching at his brow as he did. He didn’t know why he let you get him so riled up, he didn’t know why you had the effect on him that you did.

Part of him figured it was because he liked you, that the determination and ability you demonstrate when you work as hard as you do is enough to distract him from who you are just long enough to let you in under his skin. But then he remembers why he isn’t supposed to like you, he remembers what you are a part of and it infuriates him. He can’t blame you for being what you are, he can’t even blame you for lying about it. Everything you had done up to this point was honest...

He could only blame himself for letting it get to him and he was pretty good at blaming himself for things.

“You have a cigarette?” He muttered as he turned back to you.

With your arms crossed over your chest, practically drawing his eyes to the low neck of your tank top, you shook your head, snapping his gaze back to yours. “I don’t smoke.”

He kicked the dirt beneath his shoes, the wrong shoes, and let out another hefty sigh.

“Were you lying about being in Colombia for something other that drugs and communism?” He eked out with a voice weaker than he could be proud of.

“I haven’t lied to you since I met you, Peña.” You were quick to retort, your voice never dropping in strength. “Why?”

He shook his head, settling his hands to his hips, “if you’re not here for this, why the hell do you let Stechner use you as a prop? Why do you let him get away with these lies for fucking fundraising?”

“It’s politics.” You scoffed back to him, taking a step closer. “You didn’t come to Colombia for it either, but here we both are.”

Great, he thought, another similarity between the two of you.

He hated that he couldn’t out-argue you, not that he was used to outsmarting the women he worked with, but most of the women he worked with were secretaries and assistants who were almost eager to bend to his will. You were smarter than him and he could tell the first time you opened your mouth in that bar.

He just wished he had realized then the shit he was about to bring down on himself and stopped before he even started.

But you were smarter than him, and he had to deal with that now.

“What did you come to Colombia for?”

You twisted your head, having not expected the question, but before you could open your mouth to give him the answer he was looking for, another voice called from behind the two of you.

“Agent Peña?” Both of you turned to see Stechner stood with his hands on his hips, “the Senators want to speak with you.”

He stole a glance back to you and you gave a heartless shrug, “good luck.”

A laugh nearly bubbled to the surface of his frustrated demeanor, like a joke the universe was playing. He had never had an ounce of good luck in his life, not before Colombia and certainly not now, as he scanned you over one last time.

You were his type, almost too perfectly his type. He couldn’t help but wonder if Stechner grew you in a tube just to mess with him, he certainly wouldn’t put it past the man. A beautiful woman, standing strong in army fatigues and a member of the CIA. He was shaking his head a lot more these days then his last time in Colombia, or at least it felt like he was.

Good luck...

He didn’t have any of that. All he could hope was that maybe Fiestl and Van Ness did.

-> tags: (let me know if you’d like to be added or if I missed you! I’m not great at tagging lol)

@the-feckless-wonder @arrowswithwifi @ms-dont-care @leo-moon @tiffdawg @readsalot73 @way-too-addicted-to-anime @keeper0fthestars @adikaofmandalore @opheliaelysia @magneticbucky

[rayni-day]

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[tkmedia]

2021 NBA Draft winners and losers: Magic accelerate rebuild with Suggs, Wagner

The 2021 NBA Draft has come and gone with a number of surprising selections and fun moments over the course of the evening.We won’t actually know how teams performed in this draft until years down the line, but in the immediate aftermath there appears to be some clear winners and losers from Thursday night. Winners Orlando Magic At the trade deadline this past season, the Magic went on a fire sale, trading away franchise cornerstones Nikola Vucevic and Aaron Gordon. It was a deliberate move to try to tank for the No. 1 overall pick, something that didn’t pay off as they only ended up with No. 5 at the draft lottery. Coming into this draft, Orlando was likely thinking it would have to find a way to make Jonathan Isaac co-exist with Scottie Barnes. But then the Toronto Raptors ended up taking Barnes at No. 4, and with Jalen Suggs on the board suddenly the Magic had a no-brainer decision on their hands, taking Suggs with No. 5 to help accelerate their rebuild. Suggs is a natural-born leader and could be just what Orlando has been needing to help turn their sorrowfully mediocre culture around. Throw in Franz Wagner, whom the Magic got with the No. 8 overall selection from the Chicago Bulls as part of the Vucevic deal at the deadline, and Orlando had itself a hell of an evening. And a large reason for that was because of the Raptors’ decision to take Barnes. Houston Rockets Another team in the early phases of a rebuild, the Rockets got themselves a major boost by taking Jalen Green at No. 2 and then adding defensive stud Usman Garuba and ultra-athletic guard Josh Christopher later in the draft with the 23rd and 24th overall pick, respectively. These look to be three building-block pieces for a Houston team that’s basically starting from scratch now after the drama James Harden and his exit put them through last season. Green, in particular, appears to be a young man with a legitimate star quality to him. From the way his game projects at the NBA level, to the swagger he carried himself with on draft day he looks like he could be a real foundational piece for Houston moving forward. Charlotte Hornets The Hornets may have gotten the steal of the draft in dynamic UConn guard James Bouknight falling to them at No. 11. Originally projected to go within at least the first eight picks, Bouknight kept falling and falling until he fell right into the Hornets’ lap, where his potential as a legitimate three-level scoring threat could pair very well with LaMelo Ball, even if there might be some positional and role overlap down the line between Bouknight and Devonte' Graham. Additionally, the Hornets got Mason Plumlee, a very serviceable centre, and the No. 37 pick – who ended up being JT Thor from Auburn -- from the Pistons for just the No. 57 pick as Detroit was desperate to dump Plumlee’s salary. And to top it off, Charlotte made a move with the New York Knicks to trade up for athletic big man Kai Jones at No. 19, a prospect who offers tremendous upside down line, particularly as a lob threat from Ball. This was some good work from the Hornets. Canadian basketball On draft night, five Canadians made the league, three of whom were outright drafted. The list includes Josh Primo, Chris Duarte (if you’re willing to count him that is), Dalano Banton, Eugene Omoruyi and AJ Lawson. Primo was probably the biggest surprise pick of the entire evening as the Toronto native went No. 12 overall to the San Antonio Spurs, way higher than where he was originally projected to go. Immediately following up Primo was Duarte, who went to the Indiana Pacers at No. 13. Duarte was born in Montreal, but was raised in the Dominican Republic so he identifies as Dominican more than anything. However, the Canadian roots still remain. Omoruyi and Lawson have reportedly signed as undrafted free agents with the Dallas Mavericks and Miami Heat, respectively as well. But the biggest win for Canadian basketball Thursday night came from Banton, who made history as the first Canadian to ever get drafted by the Raptors. A tremendous moment. Losers Traditional positions in basketball We are in the era of “position-less” basketball and for proof of this you need look no further than what the Raptors did Thursday night. At No. 4 they had an opportunity to take Suggs, a more traditional point guard who could’ve seamlessly stepped in as Kyle Lowry’s heir apparent, but they instead went with Barnes and his Swiss Army Knife-like skillset. Then, at No. 46, the Raptors took Banton, another long, versatile player who figures to be able to play multiple positions. It’s clear that the Raptors like these long, athletic, multi-positional players because they now have four of them on their roster in Barnes, Banton, OG Anunoby and Pascal Siakam. Whether or not they fit a traditional position on the floor seems irrelevant to the Raptors, as being as flexible -- both offensively and defensively -- is the name of the game these days. The Raptors aren’t the only team that thinks like this, either, they’re just the most apparent in pushing the idea of playing without actual positions. Los Angeles Lakers The Lakers are acquiring Russell Westbrook from the Washington Wizards. It’s costing them a fair bit as they’re giving up Kyle Kuzma, Kentavious Caldwell-Pope, Montrezl Harrell and the No. 22 pick in Thursday’s draft (who ended up being Kentucky big man Isaiah Jackson – whom the Wizards then flipped to the Indiana for Aaron Holiday), but the Lakers managed to land their man. With Westbrook in the fold the Lakers have a star trio of him, LeBron James and Anthony Davis that combine for 34 all-star selections and 30 All-NBA team selections. That’s some impressive stuff. It also does nothing to help shore up the Lakers’ needs. What Los Angeles needs is a guy who can help space the floor and give more room for James and Davis to operate around the basket. Westbrook is a brilliant talent who is the legitimate king of the triple-double, but he doesn’t do that for the Lakers and will, most likely, do the exact opposite of that for them as he wants to dive into the paint just as much as his new superstar teammates do. What’s funny is before this Westbrook deal came about there were reports about the Lakers looking to deal for Sacramento Kings sharpshooter Buddy Hield involving a similar package to the one they’re sending to the Wizards. Hield isn’t anywhere close to the star that Westbrook is, but his acquisition would’ve helped the Lakers more than this Westbrook one would have. “Expert” pre-draft analysis All of those mock drafts and big boards published in advance of the draft appeared to be for naught as this was a draft where it felt like teams were going off the board from all over. From the Raptors taking Barnes at No. 4, the Oklahoma City Thunder taking Josh Giddey at No. 6, Bouknight falling to No. 11 and Primo getting scooped up at No. 12, if you compare the actual draft results to the mocks from most of the foremost draft experts you’ll see a very different picture. It just goes to show, what media members value – even incredibly connected and informed media members – will differ to what actual team executive do. Read the full article

[ecotone99]

[MF] The Prince of Atlantis

As I ran out onto the beach and grabbed my blue and black surfboard, I felt the cool sea spray hit my nose. Then, the salty smell of the ocean burned my nose. My dad, Nathaniel Antoniuo, grabs his board and we hit the water. I heard the waves crashing and I got excited. Once we get out pretty far, I tried to ask my dad about my mother. I said, “Alright, I’m sixteen now, you need to tell me what happened to my mother.” All he said was what he usually says. “She died in a shipwreck,” he explains, “off the coast of Morocco after you were born.” I asked him, “Well, can’t you at least tell me what her name was?” He said, “I don’t like to talk to you about her because I miss her, and I don’t want you to obsess over who she was, what’s done is done.” I sighed and we sat in a moment of silence before he says, “Diana. Her name was Diana.” We caught a few great waves, then I ask him, “What’s with my stupid name?” He said, “Dylan, your mother loved that name and we found it fitting since I had grown up by the sea. In fact, that’s what it means, son of the sea.” He then asked me, “Do you want to go on an expedition tomorrow?” He explained, “It’s off the coast of Morocco, supposedly where Atlantis was. We might find some valuable artifacts.” I asked, “What’s the point, we already have billions of dollars from grandpa and grandma’s company?” He said, “It’s not about money, it’s about history and you are getting a chance no other kids get. Also, I want to finally visit the place where your mother died. At least you will finally get to meet the crew.” We went back in to the penthouse, stopping at the garage to drop our boards off on the way up.

That night, my dad showed me a video presentation of the crew and their purposes in the team. Dale was an ex-Navy SEAL who served as the muscle and munitions expert of the team. He was there if we would encounter any dangerous sea life or environments. Next was Laura, who was the technology expert of the crew. She piloted submarine and controlled the computer systems. Lastly, there was Cassie, who is a marine biologist. She was there to catalog any new or rare species of marine life we could possibly encounter. I went to sleep in my bed down the hall, with thoughts of the trip tomorrow.

The next morning, we met at Miami International Airport, and got on my dad’s private jet. It’s usually around a 13 hour flight from Miami to Morocco, but my dad’s plane can make it in 3 hours because Laura created a special hyperjet engine. Laura also engineered a special fuel cell that is way more efficient than conventional jet fuel and doesn’t burn up at supersonic speeds. On the flight, I noticed that Dale was reading a book that I had read before. I asked him if he liked it and he said he did. We talked about that for a little bit, then my dad and I watched a movie.

When we landed in Morocco, the bright sun hit my eyes like a train. The heat burned my skin. After my eyes had adjusted, it was time for us to get to the harbor. I stared at the beautiful ocean on our car ride to the harbor. We got the sub ready for the expedition. It was different from most subs you would see in military films or submersibles like you would see in documentaries about the deepest parts of the ocean. Instead, it had four turbines in the back, a big clear polymer window in the front, and multiple levels. It was overall a cube shape. The top level was the bridge and computer level. The level below was the sleeping level. The next level housed the galley and a meeting hall with a high ceiling. The level down was an armory that also stored our diving suits, oxygen tanks, and dive helmets. The level down from that had small speed boats that could go under water for brief periods of time and could make it to the surface for escapes. The bottom level was the marine biology level that consisted of: a database of all marine life, an airlock for bringing marine life into the ship, cameras with an artificial intelligence that could recognize marine life that had not yet been catalogued, a tracker rack, robotic assistants with arms that would help hold down large animals and a large examination table.

The trip to the dive site was around an hour away from the harbor. During this hour, I pretty much just hung out in my quarters. I watched a little TV, and about halfway through my fourth episode, all of the lights and systems went dark. I went and asked my dad, “What’s up?” He explained that all of the systems had been shut down except for the emergency lights, pressurization, engine, and oxygen hoses for the dive suits by some sort of electromagnetic pulse. He then explained that we were only about a half a mile away from the dive site and that we would be there very soon. He then debriefed the crew an me on our mission: we were to go out with our suits on and search for anything. We were to look for ruins, artifacts, or statues. Anything we found would be proof that Atlantis exists.

When my dad finished the debriefing, there was a loud bang and we all lurched forward as the sub suddenly stopped. We had arrived and it was finally time to suit up and go out into the deep. Laura would stay back on the sub and try and get the sub’s systems up and running while the crew, my father, and me would suit up and get into the water. We entered the airlock and the sound of the door slamming behind us startled me. Then, there was a hissing sound as the air lock’s vents opened up,the air was let out and the water rushed in. After that, the outside door opened into the dark blue water. We turned on the lights on our helmets and swam out. We saw some ruins and decided to swim deeper. Suddenly, a large rock fell on my suit and crushed my helmet. My dad told me to hold my breath as he and Dale rushed over. They tried lifting the rock, but the only way to get me out was by pulling my helmet off. There was no way I would survive the pressure, let alone be able to see or breathe.

My dad decided to pull me out. What was he thinking? There was no way I would survive! I decided to close my eyes and hope for the best. Once I was out of the helmet, there was a bright blue flash of light that knocked back my dad and the crew. It also destroyed my suit. I was wearing only my small diving shorts, the length of basketball shorts, but skintight. My heart started racing. How could was I still breathing? What was that flash of light? How could I see this deep underwater? I saw thousands of statues of people. I thought about the theory they something similar to what happened to Pompeii had happened to Atlantis and was the reason for its disappearance.

Then, I noticed that in front of these statues was what appeared to be a trident. It was tarnished and covered in barnacles, but I was still drawn to it. I noticed that my birthmark on my back was glowing and with each step closer to the trident, it became brighter and brighter. As I got closer, I realized that the statues truly were statues and not people that had been encased in pyroclastic ash, for they were very detailed and their facial features had been preserved. When I touched the trident, I realized that my birthmark was actually a tattoo and it was starting to mark the rest of my body with tattoos. Then, I adjusted my grip on the trident and the rust and barnacles fell off.

Then, I heard a deep voice in my head, “I am the spirit of King Triton. Do not be afraid my grandson, for you are home. This is Atlantis, the birthplace of your mother. She is Diana, queen of the warriors. The people have gone through a process that combines both science and magic. It is to ensure that they do not age during the years when the royal head of the people is missing. In Atlantis, my daughter–your mother–ruled over the warriors of Atlantis while I served and ruled over my people. Then, I was killed by an unknown warrior from the surface world and Atlantis was forced to go into hiding and cut ties with the surface world. Eventually, we decided it would be time for a new heir to the throne of Atlantis, so I let your mother become flesh once more to carry the baby of a successful explorer of the mighty seas. She then returned to us and became a statue again, giving you father the impression that she had died in a shipwreck. The people went through a process called stuatization, where enchanted rock is bonded to their bodies, which will become flesh once Atlantis is restored. Also, the buildings of Atlantis shall be rebuilt. You have the power to do just that, by rising up this trident, you shall raise Atlantis.”

I raised the trident and Atlantis started to build itself up, almost growing like an organism. The people became flesh again and were overwhelmed with joy. Atlantis was lifted up by very large stilts that were pushing up against the ocean floor. A dome formed. Its purpose was to drain the water and be full of oxygen so that humans could come to Atlantis. The light shone over the throne of Atlantis once again. I finally got to see my mother. She was beautiful, just as I had imagined her as a child and seen in pictures. She brought my father over to us and then spoke with him. The crew would stay here, in Atlantis. Dale would join the Atlantean Army. Laura would learn about Atlantean technology and and magic. Cassie would modify our submarine with Atlantean parts to find more species and catalogue them, then stay at Atlantis for some time, then go on another expedition.

It had been a few weeks since Atlantis was raised to my coronation ceremony. I wanted to get the city up and running before I could have a fancy ceremony. The first thing I did was make sure the seaweed farm was ready. Algae would grow on the seaweed, which would then be eaten by snails. Those snails would be eaten by fish, and those fish would be brought to the Atlantean fish farmer to be fed to bigger fish. After that, we built factories and power plants for Atlantis. I then had Atlantis go public. We would no longer be secluded from the rest of the world. We declared ourselves to be allies of the United States, and even built an embassy. My father decided to stay in the Royal Palace of Atlantis with me and my mother. He donated his fortune to companies cleaning up the world’s oceans and to building various orphanages.

My ceremony was one of extreme joy. The Royal Band of Atlantis played. The palace was adorned with banners with tridents on them. My throne was covered in gold and my trident shone in the refracted sunlight from the dome over Atlantis. I walked up to my throne, sat, and the people–both human and Atlantean–erupted in applause. There was a gala following the ceremony. At the gala, there was the finest fish in the sea, fresh seaweed, squid, and various other traditional Atlantean dishes. I talked with an Atlantean girl for a long while. We planned to go out to dinner the following week. When the gala was finished, I explored the Atlantean Palace and went to sleep in my new bed.

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Scuba Diving Army Tanks off of Key Biscayne, Miami

A long, long, long time ago in an ocean near you….

Not one, but Two Army tanks sit near Key Biscayne Miami, Florida in 48ft of water. At one point in time, there was a surplus of 6,000 M-48 and M-60 Army Tanks. These tanks were used by our armed forces in Vietnam and Korean Wars. My uncle Ernie served in the Korean war, and maybe it’s possible, that he could have seen these tanks in action. These tanks were no longer in use, so Florida’s artificial reef program was able to acquire them, and put them to good use as a new home for our ocean friends. The idea is to help boost Florida tourism, and of course scuba divers are always looking for something new and fun to dive.

The army tanks weigh in at close to 50 tons each. Wow, that sure is some heavy machinery. The engines and transmissions were taken out, so that they don’t pollute the ocean with oil and diesel fuel. Our friends of the ocean need clean water to thrive. The tanks are about 8ft high, and 30ft long, and they were stored at the Anniston Army Depot in Alabama, before being placed in the ocean. The tanks were taken offshore by a 150-foot-long barge, then lowered into the sea by a crane to their final resting place. Now, they are a part of a reef system called the Wreck Trek. This includes a nearby wreck called Mathew Lawrence. 1060 tons of lime rock boulders have been placed close to the tanks by the Department of Environmental Resource Management (DERM) to help build up the reef system.

The army tanks turrets and cannons were still intact when the tanks were sunk. However, divers will not be able to enter the structures underwater. All the hatches have been welded and blocked by thick bars of steel. The names of the people that worked on the project have been sprayed painted on the tanks. Over 20 years later the names have been covered with a variety of corals, and sponges. If you are lucky you may see some barracudas guarding the area to make sure all is safe. The thick steal on these tanks will last a lifetime. With the tanks and boulders there are plenty of places for fish, lobsters and crabs to hide from predators looking for their next meal. The sea life you see there is amazing. If you are like me and you want to go on a great dive adventure, then let’s get tanked. Below are the GPS coordinates for the dive site.

Waypoint: ATANK1 Latitude Longitude Degrees 25.8112 -80.0908333333333 Degrees/Minutes N 25 48.672 W 80 5.450 Degrees/Minutes/Seconds N 25 48 40.320 W 80 5 27.000

Waypoint: ATANK2 Latitude Longitude Degrees 25.8112333333333 -80.0912333333333 Degrees/Minutes N 25 48.674 W 80 5.474 Degrees/Minutes/Seconds N 25 48 40.440 W 80 5 28.440

This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed without permission. © 2016 Joe Labara Film Productions, All Rights Reserved.

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Scuba Diving Army Tanks off of Key Biscayne, Miami

Scuba Diving Army Tanks off of Key Biscayne, Miami

Scuba Diving Army Tanks off of Key Biscayne, Miami

A long, long, long time ago in an ocean near you….

Not one, but Two Army tanks sit near Key Biscayne Miami, Florida in 48ft of water. At one point in time, there was a surplus of 6,000 M-48 and M-60 Army Tanks. These tanks were used by our armed forces in Vietnam and Korean Wars. My uncle Ernie served in the Korean war, and maybe it’s possible,…

[scuba-flix]

Scuba Diving Army Tanks off of Key Biscayne, Miami

Scuba Diving Army Tanks off of Key Biscayne, Miami

A long, long, long time ago in an ocean near you….

Not one, but Two Army tanks sit near Key Biscayne Miami, Florida in 48ft of water. At one point in time, there was a surplus of 6,000 M-48 and M-60 Army Tanks. These tanks were used by our armed forces in Vietnam and Korean Wars. My uncle Ernie served in the Korean war, and maybe it’s possible, that he could have seen these tanks in action. These…

[one-of-us-blog]

Casino Royale (2006)

Today Drew is forced to watch and recap 2006’s Casino Royale, the twenty-first James Bond adventure. Everyone knows James Bond becomes the most famous and infamous spy of all time, but did you ever wonder how his career in espionage began? Well wonder no more, because today we’re hopping in the Wayback Machine and joining the newly minted 00 agent on his first big mission. Can Bond play with the big boys, or is he going to get sent back to spy school with his tail between his legs?

Keep reading to find out…

Eli, I’m back from my mini vacation and I want to jump right into the action, but I have to take a moment to congratulate you on two more wonderful recaps! I know you’re still not loving this batch of The Golden Palace episodes, but I’m loving your recaps all the same. Okay, you’ve waited long enough, it’s time to dive in!

Buttocks tight!

Screenplay by Neal Purvis, Robert Wade & Paul Haggis, film directed by Martin Campbell

We start out in Prague, Czech Republic, and this crazy black and white style makes me think maybe I’m watching the wrong version of Casino Royale. MI6 section chief Dryden heads up to his shadowy office, where he’s confronted by James Bond (Daniel Craig). He informs Dryden that M isn’t crazy about him being a double agent. Dryden lets us know right away that this is a prequel by informing Bond that he’s not a 00 agent because he hasn’t killed anyone yet. Well, about that. Some flashbacks show Bond in the process of doing said killing while Dryden pulls a gun on Bond. Bond anticipated this, however, and took the liberty of removing the bullets from the gun. Bond unceremoniously kills Dryden, and in one last bit of flashback we see him kill Dryden’s contact, Fisher, in a bathroom. Bond shooting Fisher leads us right into the coolest gun barrel sequence so far, and now we’re onto the opening credits!

Chris Cornell belts out “You Know My Name” while a stylized rendition of Bond fights dudes and hearts, spades, clubs and diamonds whiz around. Everybody’s really getting into the spirit of this whole casino thing, but, wait a second, something’s missing! Where are all the silhouettes of naked ladies dancing around? Could it be? Will my gay spirit finally know peace? Bless you, Casino Royale, bless you! We get a shot of someone confirming Bond’s new 00 status, and Bond regards us with his steely blues as the sequence comes to an end.

After that jam session we head to Mbale, Uganda, a man called Mr. White (Jesper Christensen) is making nice with Steven Obanno (Isaach de Bankolé), the leader of the Lord’s Resistance Army. Mr. White, who works for a mysterious and conspicuously unnamed organization, is introducing Obanno to a man who will be entrusted with the Army’s considerable pile of cash. The man in question is Le Chiffre (Mads Mikkelsen), who promises a hefty return on investment and promises Obanno no complications. Obanno is convinced, and Le Chiffre promptly calls his accountant. I don’t know how stocks work so I’m going to do a bit of summarizing here. Basically Le Chiffre is using Obanno’s money to buy put options on an aerospace company called Skyfleet, and all that means he’s betting that the company will fail and he’s doing said betting with somebody else’s money.

With that economics lesson behind us, we jump to Madagascar, where a large crowd is horny as hell to watch Rikki-Tikki-Tavi fight a cobra to the death. Bond and another MI6 agent, Carter, are here to capture a bomb maker named Mollaka (Sébastien Foucan), but Carter is really bad at being a spy and Mollaka makes a break for it. Bond chases after him, and the two end up on a construction site where Bond nearly runs Mollaka over with a bulldozer. The two scale a skyscraper in the making and Bond causes a man with a welding torch to fall to his death, setting off an explosion. That dude wasn’t a spy or anything, by the way, he was just a dude trying to do his job and Bond got him blown right the hell up. No time to worry about collateral damage, though, Bond and Mollaka take their fight to the tippy top of a crane. Mollaka tries to take a shot at Bond, but he’s out of bullets by this point so he just throws his gun at Bond’s head. Bond catches it like a badass and throws it back at Mollaka, then they fight and Mollaka jumps onto another crane and then onto a building where he continues to run away. Bond’s not one to be outdone, so he too makes this crane-to-crane-to-building journey and continues giving chase. They cut through crowds of people still hard at work despite there being a huge explosion outside a minute a go, Bond Kool-Aid Mans through a wall, everyone’s jumping all over the place and things are just going a mile a minute here.

Mollaka eventually draws near to his destination, which turns out to be the Embassy of Nambutu. Mollaka arrives in the embassy, but Bond’s not going to let a little thing like that stop him from getting his man. He storms the embassy and continues kicking Mollaka’s ass, which results in an alarm getting raised and him being shot at by a bunch of guards. A lot of innocent office works are caught in the crossfire, but eventually Bond ends up holding a gun on Mollaka while surrounded by a bunch of armed guards. Bond surrenders Mollaka only to shoot him in the back, grab his backpack, blow up a nearby propane tank causing a lot of damage to the embassy (again, there were a lot of office workers just minding their own bee’s wax in there) and make a break for it. In the backpack, Bond finds a bomb and a cell phone containing a mysterious text which only says ELLIPSIS.

From here we jump to Le Chiffre’s yacht, where he’s in the middle of a high stakes card game and also crying blood from his scarred-up eye. Le Chiffre is notified about the situation in Madagascar and he’s not happy about it. Ellipsis, whatever that is, expires in 36 hours and Le Chiffre says that’s all the time he has left.

We hop over to London, where M is not happy about all of the press coverage Bond’s adventure in Madagascar is getting. Okay, just to address this, the Daniel Craig movies take place before any of the other films I’ve covered for this blog, but M is still being played by Dame Judi Dench. That doesn’t make sense as she was very explicitly first introduced to Bond in GoldenEye, but, honestly, she’s the best M there’s ever been by a long shot so I’m cool with letting the timeline weirdness slip. Anyway, she wants to know where the hell Bond is so she can rip him a new one, and right on cue we jump to Bond who’s hacking into Mollaka’s cell to find out who sent the message about Ellipsis. He traces the text to the Bahamas, specifically the Ocean Club on Paradise Island. M arrives, because this is her house and Bond broke in, and commences her plan to rip him a new one. He’s fine with one less bomb maker in the world, but M wanted Mollaka alive so MI6 could find out who’s been funding terrorist organizations all over the world. Mallaka was just a gun for hire, and thanks to Bond they don’t know who hired him in the first place.

M laments promoting Bond to 00 status too soon, but Bond points out that spies don’t live too long so she shouldn’t have to worry about that mistake for too long. She tells him to go chill out somewhere while she handles the Madagascar incident, and Bond takes the initiative to head to the Bahamas. He quickly finds his way to the Ocean Club where he’s mistaken for a valet. A club member gives him the keys to his fancy car, and Bond purposefully crashes it to cause a distraction so he can sneak into the Club unnoticed. He’s able to sneak right into the security office, and uses recordings of the date and time when the Ellipsis text was sent to get a shot of the guy who sent it. Bond talks to the receptionist of the club under the guise of booking a room, and in no time at all discovers that the man in Alex Dimitrios (Simon Abkarian) who just happens to live right up the beach.

Bond goes for a swim, emerging from the ocean like Honey Ryder’s illegitimate son and catches the eye of Solange (Caterina Murino), Dimitrios’ wife. MI6 knows Bond’s been using their system to gather intel, and they figure out he’s doing digging on Dimitrios. M checks him out, and finds out he’s a known associate of Le Chiffre. Guessing by M’s reaction to this, that’s bad news, son. Later that night, Bond joins Dimitrios in a game of cards and stomps him while once again taking notice of Solange, toward whom Dimitrios is noticeably cold. Afterward, Bond gives Solange a ride to his place in the car he won from her husband.

Dimitrios is called to Le Chiffre’s yacht, and Le Chiffre isn’t happy about Mollaka, the man Dimitrios hired for Le Chiffre, being under surveillance by MI6. Dimitrios doesn’t care if Le Chiffre trusts him or not, but he does value his reputation so he offers to hook Le Chiffre up with another bomb maker. Meanwhile, Bond is in the process of seducing Solange, but this extramarital fun is interrupted by a call from Dimitrios informing Solange that he’s flying to Miami. Bond ditches Solange to follow her husband, and in Miami Dimitrios discovers him. The two get into an intense knife fight that they manage to keep secret from the huge crowd of people around them, and Bond kills Dimitrios. Dimitrios has already hired another bomb maker, though, and Bond has to chase after the guy to stop whatever the hell is going on. The two wind up at an airport, where Bond discovers that Ellipsis is actually the passcode needed to get into a secure door. Bond calls MI6 to give them a heads up, and they find out that Skyfleet (remember them from earlier?) is unveiling a new airliner that Dimitrios’ man is here to blow up.

Bond pursues the man to the hangar holding the airliner, where he attaches a tiny little bomb to a fuel tanker and drives it toward the airliner. Bond manages to hitch a ride on the tanker and, after quite a bit of difficulty and a lot of collateral damage, he manages to foil the plot and stop the airliner from being destroyed. He’s then promptly arrested because he caused a lot of damage at this airport, but at least he got the satisfaction of watching the bomb maker accidentally blow himself up with his own bomb.

We cut to Le Chiffre, who was really banking on Skyfleet going belly up following the loss of their airliner. Because of Bond’s interference his plans have failed, and he just lost all of the money Obanno gave him to invest. Le Chiffre thinks his plans failed because someone talked, and when Bond returns to the Ocean Club after getting bailed out by MI6 he finds that Solange has been tortured and murdered. M explains Dimitrios’ connection to Le Chiffre to Bond, and tells him that since Le Chiffre lost all his money betting the wrong way he’s now set up a high stakes poker game at the Casino Royale in Montenegro. M explains that Le Chiffre will score a ton of money if he can win the tournament, but MI6 can’t let that happen. If Le Chiffre loses even more of his clients’ money they’ll be after him, and he’ll have no choice but to accept MI6’s offer for sanctuary in exchange for him spilling the tea on the mysterious, conspicuously unnamed terrorist organization he works for. Bond’s known for being good at cards, so M’s putting him in the tournament (after injecting him with a tracking device so MI6 can keep tabs on his location).

We jump straight to Montenegro, where Bond meets Vesper Lynd (Eva Green), a British Treasury agent who’s tagging along to protect the $10 million the government had to provide Bond as a buy-in for the tournament.  Lynd’s already taken care of the $10 million, and she has another $5 million in her pocket if Bond gets into trouble during the tournament. Bond and Lynd flirt by psychoanalyzing each other and soon arrive at their hotel. Bond immediately drops his MI6-provided cover name and checks into the hotel as James Bond, because he knows that a man as well connected as Le Chiffre already knows Bond’s with MI6 and has agreed to let him in the tournament anyway. Wait a second, a legitimate reason for Bond to be using his real name? Casino Royale, you’re making all my dreams come true!

Lynd isn’t crazy about Bond being reckless and leaves him to drool over the car M has had delivered for him. Bond and Lynd soon meet up with René Mathis (Giancarlo Giannini), Bond’s Montenegro contact, and prepare for their evening at the Casino Royale. Bond and Le Chiffre come face to face as the tournament is about to begin. To start things off, all players much choose a password to give to the money man so that if they win he can use their specific password to wire their winnings to them. Bond is up first and he chooses a password that seems to tickle him pink. With all of the pleasantries out of the way, the tournament begins!

Bond loses the initial hand to Le Chiffre, but Bond, Mathis and Lynd meet at the bar and Bond assures Lynd he has things in hand. He’s already discovered Le Chiffre’s tell, and Mathis has provided him with a bug which, after the game goes on a break after four hours of playing, Bond is able to slip into Le Chiffre’s inhaler. During the break Le Chiffre heads up to his room to meet with his girlfriend/henchwoman Valenka (Ivana Miličević), but, uh-oh, Obanno is there to crash the party and he wants to know what the hell Le Chiffre did with his skrilla. He threatens to cut off Le Chiffre’s hand for betraying him, but Le Chiffre will need his hands to play cards so he plans on taking one of Valenka’s instead. Just kidding, he’s not that bad of a guy! With his message delivered he leaves, but he and his goon spot Bond and Lynd eavesdropping nearby and attack them. This leads an intense fight in a stairwell, during which Bond kills both men with Lynd’s help. Bond sends Lynd off to get Mathis so he can dispose of the bodies, but Lynd is pretty shaken up by all this.

After another round of play, Bond returns to his hotel room and finds Lynd sitting fully dressed in the shower. He joins her clothing non-optional shower party and comforts her as she processes her recent trauma. The next day of the tournament soon begins, and Bond is fed his own ass by Le Chiffre. Turns out that tell he discovered so easily earlier was a deliberate plant by Le Chiffre, and after calling Le Chiffre’s non-bluff Bond’s lost his entire $10 million. Lynd is pissed, and she refuses to use the $5 million she has in reserve to bail Bond out, so it seems 007 is double 0 fucked. His ego not being able to handle losing, Bond grabs a knife and is ready to just straight up kill Le Chiffre. He’s stopped at the last moment from another tournament player who introduces himself as Felix Leiter (Jeffrey Wright, beloved by yours truly for his role in Westworld). Leiter knows Bond is a spy and admits he’s with the CIA. He tells Bond he’s not going to last much longer in the tournament, but offers to buy Bond back in. There’s a condition, however: when Bond wins, the CIA gets Le Chiffre.

Bond agrees, and soon there are only a handful of players left in the tournament, including Bond, Leiter and Le Chiffre. Le Chiffre has Valenka secretly poison Bond’s martini, and soon Bond’s rushing off to the bathroom to make himself throw up. That doesn’t quite do it, though, and he has to stagger back to his car to take advantage of the cache of antidotes he has stored there. He calls MI6 and they walk him through injecting a cure and working the car’s defibrillator, but there’s a loose wire in the defibrillator and he passes out before he can fix it. Luckily Lynd arrives at the last moment and saves him. He jumps right back into the tournament against MI6’s advice, and it’s a good thing he did because Leiter just lost his last hand to Le Chiffre and, as he expected, he’s out of the game.

The final phase of the tournament begins, and the hot poker action culminates with all the remaining players going all in on one final hand. Despite Le Chiffre having a solid hand, Bond wins the day with a straight flush, much to the nearby Leiter’s delight. Bond lets Leiter know he’s good to make contact with Le Chiffre and he and Lynd go out for a romantic dinner. The dinner is cut short when Lynd is called away by Mathis. Something gets Bond suspicious, and sure enough he gets outside just in time to see Lynd snatches by Le Chiffre’s men. He gives chase and finds Lynd tied up in the middle of the road like something out of a Snidely Whiplash cartoon. He’s forced to swerve to avoid running her over and gets into a nasty car accident as a result.

Bond survives the wreck, only to be snatched by Le Chiffre’s men himself. Le Chiffre informs Bond that Mathis works for him, and his men cut the MI6 tracker out of Bond’s arm. Bond and Lynd are taken onto a boat, with Lynd getting thrown into a room by Valenka while Bond is stripped naked and tied to a chair with the bottom cut out of it. Le Chiffre begins to torture Bond by striking his bare ass/balls/dick region with a knotted rope, and golly gee is it ever intense as hell. Le Chiffre assures Bond that if he keeps this up for too long Bond’s entire dick situation will be wrecked for life, but Bond refuses to give up the password that will give Le Chiffre access to the tournament winnings. Bond holds out against the torture so Le Chiffre prepares to just chop his dick off with a knife when suddenly Mr. White (remember him from earlier?) bursts in. Le Chiffre tells him he’ll get the money for White’s mysterious, conspicuously unnamed terrorist organization, but White says he’ll pass and shoots Le Chiffre in the head.

Bond wakes up in the hospital some time later and hazily recognizes Lynd and Mathis. Bond lets MI6 know Mathis is dirty and some agents come to drag him away. Lynd and Bond give into their attraction to each other as the money man from earlier arrives to give Bond his winnings. Turns out the password he chose was V-E-S-P-E-R, which is adorable, and the money is deposited just like that. Bond and Lynd head to Venice for some romantic alone time, and Bond tells Lynd he’s ready to quite MI6 and spend the rest of his life with her. All seems to be going well, but while sailing Lynd catches sight of a man with an eyepatch and seems unnerved. She and Bond are still planning to run off together, though, and she goes to withdraw some cash while he buys road trip supplies.

Things go south from here. Bong gets a call from M, informing him that the cash from the tournament was never deposited. Bond calls the money man and asks what happened to the money, but he says not only was the money already deposited to the account Lynd gave them but it’s actually being withdrawn right now. Dang it, Vesper! Bond rushes to the bank where Lynd is getting the money and follows her to an old building where she’s meeting with that guy with the eyepatch from earlier. They notice Bond and take Lynd hostage while Bond chases after them. Bond holds his own against a whole squad of assassins, but the old building is so damaged that it begins to sink into the canal. Bond continues to fight his way through the sinking building, but Lynd is trapped in an elevator. She refuses to let him rescue her, instead choosing to drown and golly gee is it ever intense as hell.

Bond manages to drag Lynd to the surface, but she’s dead as can be and he can’t resuscitate her. Bond breaks down while Mr. White, with Lynd’s suitcase full of stolen cash in hand, watches on before making his exit.

Later, M calls Bond and explains that MI6 found out that Lynd had a boyfriend who was captured by the same mysterious, conspicuously unnamed terrorist organization that hired Le Chiffre. They threatened to kill him unless she did what they wanted. Bond has shut down his feelings and is ready to move on, but M points out that the only reason he wasn’t killed by Mr. White after Le Chiffre was dead is because Lynd made a deal; she’d give White the money in exchange for letting Bond live, even though she knew they’d probably kill her.

M says they probably won’t know who’s behind all of this since the trail’s gone cold, but Lynd left her cell phone for Bond to find and with it he’s able to track down Mr. White. Mr. White receives a call from Bond and asks who he’s speaking to, which sets Bond up to shoot him in the leg and then introduce himself as Bond, James Bond.

The End

~~~~~

What a great movie! I knew this was well-received by Bond fans, but even outside of the franchise it was just a really solid film. I loved Craig as Bond, and I loved Lynd’s take on a Bond girl. I know there’s a whole copyright issue that keeps the movie from being able to call the terrorist organization SPECTRE, but I actually liked the way it was introduced without being named. I thought Mad Mikkelsen was great at Le Chiffre, and this movie was so engaging that it actually managed to get me excited about a game of cards. I’ve seen a lot of takes on the character of Bond while making my way through this franchise, to the cheesy but lovable Moore to the overly gritty but flat Dalton, and I have to say I think I like this version best. He wasn’t overpowered or perfect and he made a lot of mistakes, but that makes sense to me since this is supposed to be the beginning of his career. I know people have a real boner for Connery’s take on the character since he was the first Bond, but honestly I just wasn’t that impressed by his run and his films are among those I found least enjoyable. I can’t wait to see Craig in action again, though, and that’s something I haven’t really felt since the end of GoldenEye. There were a lot of things, like the wild gadgets and the never-ending vehicle chase scenes, that I was glad to be rid of, and in their place we got some buck wild fight scenes that had me on the edge of my seat and some wonderful tension between Bond and Le Chiffre. This was an amazing movie and by far the best Bond film I’ve watched so far!

I give Casino Royale QQQQQ on the Five Q Scale.

Tune back in soon to catch Eli’s next round of fantastic recaps as he covers the next two episodes of The Golden Palace, “A New Leash on Life” and “Pros and Concierge”, and once he’s done blowing our minds with that I’ll take the stage and deliver my recap of Quantum of Solace, the next James Bond romp. Wait a second, Quantum of Solace? How can I already be on Quantum of Solace?! There are only two more movies left after that one! Can you believe we’ve come so far?

Until then, as always, thank you for reading, thank you for grappling with the unflinching passage of time and thank you for being One of Us!

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