Sounds like a title of a James Bond movie.
I ordered a bourbon rose, "Madame Isaac Pereire" in 1997. It came with me when I moved the following year. Twice it was mowed to the ground by unsuspecting men riding on mowers. It returned both times. It was finally relocated to my current house in 2005 where it has done spectacularly by providing deep pink, fragrant blossoms each year.
Until this year. Alas, the vicious December winds and snow left my rose lifeless and brown. I waited and waited, coaxing the roots with organic fertilizer and mulch, but the plant remained lifeless, brittle, and brown. My oldest, most beloved rose was dead.
Despite the less than attractive appearance Madame left in my garden, I couldn't quite pull her up to plant something else. So the dead plant remained all summer long. Today, I was distributing hollyhock seeds around the garden (never mind that I have too many hollyhocks), when I saw from the base of my dead, dry rose plant, a green shoot of life!
So, for now, the rose lives. Perhaps in a year or two, my favorite blossoms will return to the garden.
[Insert writing metaphor of choice here...or not.]