Vrs.  

     Bond didn’t realize it, but he had arrived in the late thirteenth century Scotland. One group of people rushing at him was none other than William Wallace. The other side was led by a rival Scotsman, a lord who followed the British.
     Bond knew he had no time to run out of the way. He could only dodge as the first lines clashed into each other. He was largely ignored at first, but soon, after both sides recognized him as a stranger, he was attacked. Bond knew he needed a weapon. As the first person attacked him, Bond dodged out of the way of the man’s blade, moved in close, and smashed his fists against the man’s temples. The man staggered, and Bond took his sword.
     Now armed, Bond fought his way through the crowd, trying to avoid fighting as much as possible, although he did defend himself when necessary. Bond didn’t know exactly where or when he was, but he wanted to have as little impact as possible. That was why he had not merely drawn his gun for protection. Bond tried to fight his way past one of the groups. To William Wallace, however, it looked like the man was trying to break into his ranks. Wallace moved to intercept the odd stranger.
     Bond ducked in time to avoid having his head lopped off. Even Bond could see from Wallace’s commanding presence that he was the leader, and he tried to get Wallace to stop fighting him.
     “Wait,” Bond said as his sword absorbed a blow from Wallace’s that shook his whole body. “I’m a British agent from…” Bond stopped, realizing too late the possibly fatal mistake he had made. Having heard that Bond was British, Wallace fought even harder now. Blow after blow rocked Bond until he staggered. He struggled to maintain his balance, but Wallace pressed in. Bond was very familiar with sword fighting, but he was better suited to fencing than broadsword fighting. Wallace was much bigger, and easily twice as strong as he was. Bond could only block Wallace’s advances, having very few opportunities to press his own attack. Bond knew he had to do something soon.
     Bond gathered that Wallace’s side had one the skirmish and that the other side was retreating. Wallace’s men now created a large circle around the men with their bodies. The two men fought in the circle. The other men dare not interfere.
     Bond threw down his sword, and having dodged a swing by Wallace, moved in and hit the man in the ribs. He jumped back as Wallace turned and swung again. Bond knew that broadswords were hard to wield quickly, even for a man as strong as Wallace. After each swing Bond had about a second to move in and strike. Bond kept just out of reach of Wallace’s swings, and then delivered quick blows before he could swing again. Wallace finally threw down his sword. This is what Bond had wanted.
     Wallace was a strong man, and a bold warrior, but Bond knew ways to fight that Wallace didn’t. Bond held his own at fisticuffs. Being more agile and better trained, Bond hit Wallace many more times than Wallace hit him. Still, Bond’s hits, though forceful, didn’t hurt the tough body of Wallace much. Each of Wallace’s few hits hurt Bond immensely.
     The fight continued for several minutes, and both men were quickly worn down. The fighters were very evenly matched. Finally, Bond knocked Wallace to his knees. Wallace may have been back on his feet fast enough to defend himself, but one of the men in the circle acted first. Seeing his leader in trouble, the man had hurled a large rock at Bond.
     Instinctively and instantly, Bond drew his gun and fired, blasting the rock into many pieces, which rained harmlessly on him. Everyone froze. Bond took the opportunity to speak.
     “Listen to me. I am not your enemy. I am merely a traveler trying to reach my home. I beg pardon for the misunderstanding, but I was merely in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Bond offered his hand to Wallace, who warily took it.
     “You have fought bravely, strange traveler. If you profess to be not our enemy, you may go your way. Yet you say you are British and have a strange weapon. Be warned, if ever we meet again, I will kill you.” Bond did not speak, but walked out of the circle, which parted for him. Bond took the neuralyzer, which was still in his pocket, and checked to see that it was not broken. He called to the men, and they all instinctively looked. Closing his eyes tightly, he flashed the neuralyzer. The entire group, to a man, was frozen.
     “You fought a successful battle today,” Bond shouted. “Now you will go home to celebrate.” The memory of the odd stranger was erased from their minds forever. Bond took the time-splitter, which he had pocketed on his arrival here, out of his pocket. J had taught him how to set it, and he now set it for his own time. Bond was worried. Supposedly, the time-splitter was not meant to allow for space travel as well, yet Bond had traveled through both time and space to arrive many miles north of where he had been. The time-splitter was damaged. He could only hope that it could get him home.
     His hopes did not come true, however, as he stepped through the window created by the device. Bond was closer to his own time, but he ended up in 1970’s America…To Be Continued in James Bond vrs. The Six Million Dollar Man