Credit Photograph by Andy Lyons/Getty
007 stood in the doorway at MI6 headquarters, his ebony skin a stark contrast to his white dinner jacket.
“Sir?”
“Black James Bond, come in,” M said, motioning to a chair. He handed Bond a dossier. Inside was a picture of a chubby infant with a cherubic face—cherubic, if you ignored his paintbrush mustache and dead, evil eyes.
Bond looked up at M with a quizzical expression.
“Your assignment,” M said,…
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