Spy vs. Spy (Closed for Ambrosia_64)

[iamincognito45]

Alex Petrov was sitting in the dark corner of a nameless bar in downtown Moscow. As he did on many late nights. Working on his third vodka his attention was drawn to his vibrating cell phone announcing an incoming email. His was not the typical cell phone. It was a special, encrypted cell phone with an unlisted number. Not only was his number not public, it could only receive emails and calls from a select list of previously authorized fellow agents. The only question was whether the email would announce success or another in a long list of status updates and projected delays. He was hardly excited given the past reports he received as slowly turned the phone over and opened the email. It was from Dmitri, a lower level agent stationed in Madrid. He was on a mission researching various engineers at Cassidian, the large Spanish electronics and defense contractor trying to identify the weakest ones. Engineers that might be vulnerable to blackmail or bribery to get access to a critically needed electronic design for a new radar installation the Russians were planning in the arctic.

As he began reading the email, a smile broke across his face. It looked like Dmitri had identified a bright but lonely female engineer at the complex. She was a loner with few friends or interests outside of work. But through a series clandestine break ins and surveillance, he had discovered the woman had opened an online dating profile. And he had her profile name. The rest would now be up to Alex. He would head to the region, sign up on the site and began romancing the poor lonely lady.

Time to go! He drained his drink, left money on the table and slipped out without anyone noticing. Regardless of where he was or whether he was working, Alex was always perfecting his craft. Living in the shadows, moving like the wind. Always invisible to those around him. Silent. And deadly when he needed to be. That’s what made him the best. And he was not about to start letting his guard down now. He made his way back to his flat in the inner city to pick up his ‘go’ bag. Inside, he had two guns, three passports and $20,000 cash. It was enough to get him where he was going and get him started. And if he needed more supplies or cash, the agency could easily provide it within twenty four hours. He headed down stairs and around the corner to the subway on his way to the train station. Within six hours, he would be half way to Madrid.

 

[Ambrosia_64]

"Our man says an agent was sent to recover specs on the prototype bomb, as well as our new security grid. I cannot stress the importance that he -fails-. Anything suspicious, any cold calls, any lost -mail- I want to hear about it. He must be found and detained-eliminated if necessary." The man's deep, serious voice bounced off the grey walls of the meeting room, jokingly called the "war" board.

Men shuffled out as the former general dismissed them, serious, deadly men whose very lives revolved around the job. Snapping his briefing closed his eyes shifted to the last, solitary figure in the room, her back to him as she gazed out the window and down into the shop floor where heavy robots and machinery built.

She was a shapely woman dressed in a dark red turtleneck sweater, a black belt around her slender waist, black slacks. Her curled dark hair was loose down her back, making her seem more like one of the office drones than an operative. "He is not to leave this country alive." He told her, coming to stand to her right, gazing down on the shop floor. "We must send a clear message to these...terrorist communists."

Rachel Romeriez said nothing, her red painted lips pursing slightly. Her eyes were dark and almond shaped, lips full, nose pert. An attractive Spanish beauty, five feet six inches in her black boots.

"We will find him." She said simply, her head turning. "We always do."

 

[iamincognito45]

The train rocked back and forth in rhythm with the clackety clack of the tracks as it sped towards Berlin. There was no direct route from Moscow to Madrid. Going through Berlin turned out to be the most direct route. And he needed to stick to trains. They offered the relaxed security that allowed him to carry guns and money with little to no risk of detection. Unlike the airlines that would have been quicker. He sat in the back row of the car, as he always did. To get the best view of everyone within sight and to limit his visibility to others. Although he was a master at being invisible, in reality, it was difficult for him. He was tall at 6’3” and weighed two hundred pounds with an athletic build. Tall enough to see over most which was helpful when tracking someone but it also made him stand out from the crowd. So he had to be extra diligent. His other features were more typical. He had dark, medium length hair and a dark goatee.

As the train raced along the countryside, Alex got up and scouted the two cars on either side of his own. Taking a mental picture of everyone he saw. He had developed something of a photographic memory over the years and it had served him well. Watching the time, he hopped up in advance of the arrival in Berlin, sure to be one of the first to depart. As soon as he stepped off the train, he found a darkened corner where he paused and waited and watched as the rest of the riders disembarked. He was looking for the tell tail signs of someone following him. If they were, they would no doubt take a quick look around as soon as they stepped off the train, trying to locate him. But all he saw were people glancing up at the arrival/departure boards and generally scurrying about.

After enough time had passed, he stepped out of the shadows and moved over to the nearest sandwich shop to grab a quick bite before catching the direct line to Madrid. His car was relatively empty this time, for which Alex was grateful. He could relax a little and focus on the task at hand when he arrived. He assumed there might be someone looking for him when he arrived. It was an assumption he always made. Not that he was paranoid. But he was careful. A professional at all times. He checked through his two bags to kill some time and make sure he had what he needed. He had a laptop bag with his computer, and various other chargers and electronics along with one of the guns. The other gun was in his waistband, ready if needed in an instance. His second bag included two days change of clothes along with his papers, passports and cash.

At last, the train approached the main station in Berlin. As the announcement was made, Alex got up and headed toward the front of the train, seeming to swim upstream of the masses preparing to get off. The pint was, he didn’t want to get off the train anywhere near where he boarded or sat. On the off chance someone was looking for him. Including his agency contact that was planning to greet him. Again, he stepped off among a crowd and found the first darkened corner he could find. He stayed there and watched until he was convinced there was only one in the platform looking for him. From the email he saw before he left Moscow, it was his local contact. Still, there was a password exchange required to verify each to the other. He approached form the rear, taking the offensive as he always did before placing a firm grip on the man’s shoulder form behind.

“The rain was cold yesterday.” he whispered so only the man could hear.

The man was surely disappointed that he had been spotted and approached form behind with knowing it. But he didn’t show it, being equally cool under the pressure.

“My car was stolen so I have a rental.” was the reply. Not true, but the correct response he needed to verify his identity.

Without another word, the two men turned and walked out the front door of the station, each scanning the faces of the crowd for the slightest interest in them. As soon as they reached the car, the each looked around one more time before getting in and rushing out of the parking garage on their way to the highway into town. It was not until they were well clear of the train station before the spoke.

“Are you sure the room is clear? No one knows? No bugs?”

“We have been extra careful. New apartment. New identity. New car. And we have been watching it for two weeks now. No sign of anyone out of the ordinary.”

“Good. I’m anxious to get started right away.” And with that, not another word was spoken as they drove on into the city.

 

[Ambrosia_64]

Rachel's third floor flat was large for the city, a lucky find at a reasonable monthly rate. The building itself was short and so she had no upstairs neighbor, and downstairs lived a simple old woman retired from teaching.

The elevator was rickety and she did not like to use it, preferring instead to take the stairs, her left arm cradling her laptop to her chest, right hand firmly gripping the roll along briefcase that held several employee files for her review.

She let go of the briefcase's handle to draw her single house key from her pocket, the red lanyard a strong, gossamer material that had doubled as a garrote once, so many months before. Pushing open the door with her shoulder she moved inside, closing and locking it behind her.

The apartment lacked furniture and comfort, militaristic and bare-or perhaps instead, monkish. Her living room was empty, her dining room bare-the kitchen contained one sink and one stove, the refrigerator steel, pristine, and lacking magnets.

The two bedrooms of the flat were utilized-the master bedroom's carpet had been torn up to install a varnished, simple wood floor, some gym equipment and several full length mirrors so she could study her technique while she practiced kickboxing and judo.

In the other, smaller bedroom, Rachel had allowed herself one sole comfort-a plush comforter and woven quilt were neatly made on a comfortable, expensive mattress, the dark wood of the sleigh bed itself an art, carved with intricate spirals and shapes. Her grandfather, a proud veteran and cabinet maker, had carved it from a fallen tree.

A metal desk sat opposite the bed, absent any photos or silly bobble heads. Rachel beelined for it, unloading her laptop and files before going to make herself a pot of coffee. It was going to be a long night.
................
She spent the weekend poring through employee records, marking several disgruntled, overworked, and low wage employees as potential security risks. She made a mental note to have the HR manager speak to the factory at large about what to do if someone attempted to blackmail or coerce you for information, who to tell, where to report it, etc-the first step was to protect their loyal employees.

When she wasn't doing that or sleeping she was logging hours on the treadmill, her runner's body moving fluidly on the conveyer belt, giving her a much needed break from her thoughts and her rigorous training regimen toning on the weights.

Rachel was a woman who believed in keeping her form in peak physical condition, ensuring that her body could be pushed to the brink and not crumble.

Her hands and feet were her weapons of choice, and often-more deadly than the trickiest of gadgets or traps. She took her work very seriously, consumed by it.

 

[iamincognito45]

They pulled up to the curb and Alex hopped out, grabbing his two bags from the back seat as the driver shouted to him.

“Here’s the latest intel we have. On the girl and the local counter intel community.” he said handing a folder through the open window. And with that, he turned and was gone.

Unlocking the door, he moved quickly inside, exposing himself to the outside world no more than necessary. The apartment was unfamiliar, but as expected as he moved throughout the room taking stock. The agency took great pains to prepare in advance and this was no exception. The place was void of any unnecessary furniture. There was no TV, no couch, no extra chairs. They had been removed to make room for his workout routine. Because he was always on the move, it had proven more convenient and practical to develop a workout regimen that did not require bulky equipment or machines. Instead, he focused on core exercises and cardio workouts to keep himself lean, quick and powerful.

There were two desks in place at ninety degree angles to provide a large work area, a local number cell phone in addition to the secure phone he already had, a computer in addition to the laptop he brought with him, three large monitors and a color printer/scanner. The kitchen was pre-stocked with some nice coffee, juice, beer, wine, fruit, and several pre-cooked meals in the fridge. The bathroom was stocked with soap, shampoo, razor, shaving cream and a variety of toiletries typical of what he might need or use. Even the closet was filled, with two suits, a dozen dress shirts, half dozen slacks and a handful of casual outfits of jeans, shirts and workout clothes. And shoes to fit any occasion.

He tossed is bags on the bed, poured himself a glass of water and sat down at the desk, opening the file that had been handed to him outside. First on his list was the local counter intel. They were the threat, therefore much more important than the mark. Alex was struck but what he read. He never underestimated his counter parts, but he was surprised by what he read. The Spanish intel community was one of the best yet least recognized in the world. They went to great lengths to stay off the radar. Yet they were competent, thorough and lethal when required. Of particular interest was their use of female operatives. It was nearly a reliance. The intel Alex read showed there was one particular agent that stood above the rest. She had been involved in some of their darkest and most important operations. She was said to be beautiful, resourceful and cool under pressure. And she never failed. How many agents around the world could say that? Although Alex’s record was the best in Russia, his track record was not 100%. Her primary focus was in the area of protecting national assets and recovering or securing assets that might have been stolen while neutralizing any threats encountered. But there was no photo. No real description available. She may as well have been a ghost. His eyes kept going back to the one highlighted – She never failed…

 

[Ambrosia_64]

"Sorry Mal-the company is moving in a different direction. We wish you all the best in your future, but unfortunately that future won't include us." Kellie was apologetic but firm, and all the engineer could do was gape at her, mouth moving but not working.

"I...but I've been with the company for five years-"
"And you've done wonderful work. We're just taking a different direction."
"...yes I, I see."
"We'll write a good reference for you, if you'd like."
"Yes, t-thank you."

The HR rep smiled, walked him to the door to be escorted out of the building.
-----------
Rachel watched the befuddled, slumped little man hail a taxi. She wore a pantsuit today-black on black, the blazer cut sharply, defining her narrow waist.

Her dark hair was pulled back into a genie ponytail, the waves caught behind her head.

"You chose well. Malvin has been passed up for promotion six times. He was sending his resume out to every company in town-no loyalty." Said the man always sucking up to the big wigs. He had been trying to get in good with her ever since he realized the respect she commanded, the self ownership.

Trying, and while Rachel never showed it-failing miserably.

"He'll try to sell what he knows to someone." She agreed, wishing he would go away. She watched the black car pull from the parking garage, Malvin's tail. "It'll flush out our mark." Maybe. Maybe it would flush out their mark.

Or maybe they'd just find a two bit moron hardly worth the firing.

"Yeah...say, I had this re-organization idea I wanted to bring up to..."

Rachel tuned him out as he blathered about some terrible idea that he thought would put him on top-giving a noncomittal utterance before she got the hell out of there, excusing herself for "paperwork". She slipped headphones on and listened, idly, to a woman speaking Russian.

Immersion in a language was the only way to fully learn and understand it, to speak like a native-or so Rachel believed. She read and filed several reports from men miles and oceans away on various missions as the woman spoke about hotel rooms and train stops-until the retired general called her and asked her to sit in on a debriefing about some assassinated drug pushers in Barcelona.

The rest of her work day was spent scanning emails before, once again-Rachel went home with a pile of work and her laptop, taking a long shower before finally going to bed.

 

[iamincognito45]

So that is what he was up against. Agent X. No name, no photo. But one hell of a resume. There was so much information about her successes. And yet, no personal information he could use. How could that be? It seemed like a contradiction and Alex suddenly wondered if she were a myth. A local mirage created by the intel community to strike fear into foreign agents. A bluff of sorts. Creating this persona for no reason other than to deflect. To force others to spend resources and efforts hiding from someone that didn’t even exist. It had been done before to great effect. So it was not unheard of. But there was something in what he read that made him believe. Believe she was real. And someone to be taken very seriously.

He closed the one folder and opened another. There was a summation of the defense company Cassidian. Along with a first draft of potential marks. There was the engineering director, stressed and overworked with a failing marriage. He might be approachable through the use of a female agent. Someone to seduce him, make him feel powerful and worthy once again. He filed that bio away and moved on. There were a hand full of lower level engineers. Some enjoying their positions and living beyond their means. Fast cars, loose women and plenty of late nights at the local trendy bars. They might be approachable, but they would require a lot of work and time. Work he was not afraid of, but time was a luxury he did not have. There was a lone woman engineer, intelligent and on the rise. According to local intel reports, she was a bit of a loner. No friends, no family in the area. And very little interaction with coworkers outside of the office. There might be promise there but she would require some surveillance. Then there were the few recently fired and presumably disgruntled workers. Looking for work, opportunity and possibly even revenge. They would be the easiest to turn. Full of ego and self-worth, it would be easy to bait them into sharing something sensitive as condition for their full consideration for employment. Information they would blindly give in an effort to prove how smart they were, how valuable they could be as employees. But they would also be the most obvious to the local intel office. People to watched. They might be the easiest marks but also the most dangerous.

He organized his thoughts and prepared to get started. He fired up his desk top and verified the encryption on the drive as it came to life. He first banged out an email to the home office back in Moscow. He gave his initial report, identified the three possible approaches and suggested they send another agent to explore the engineering director. While it was against protocol, he went so far as to recommend they send Dacia. She was sexy, smart and experienced. Where others might be reprimanded for braking protocol like this, he knew he was given a certain latitude within the agency. Something he had earned the hard way. No one questioned him or his motives. Next he started a search for the woman engineer. Where she lived, home phone number if she had one, cell phone number, email addresses, you name it. Anything he could find on her. Within an hour, he had quite a collection of personal data on one Sophie Leclair. Finally, he ran down the list of recently fired engineers. There were only three. It took him close to two hours before he was able to determine that two of them had already found new jobs, for reputable companies consistent with their education and skills. The third, one Malvin Pinet was still looking. Another hour later and he had all the personal information he needed.

It had been a long day. Alex shut down the computer and grabbed another water from the fridge and a fresh orange off the counter. He ate slowly. Contemplating his next move. He stepped into the bedroom and set out some casual clothes. Dark and unassuming, they would make sure he looked as anonymous as the masses. He wanted to look around the city. Get his bearings and scout the area around his apartment to make sure he could come and go without being detected.

 

[Ambrosia_64]

Rachel moved quietly through the place, uneasy. Often, she delegated the small missions, the light distractions put on her desk and left for her to part out or handle. But a time like this, she trusts only herself to get the job done-and just this once, she welcomed the distraction from the waiting.

The house was quiet enough-standard size and décor. Rachel stepped into what looked to be a living room, the couch knocked over, some blood on the floor. It was dim in here, the dirty curtains drawn over the window, where the dying sunlight filtered in through the dust in the air. Rachel hesitated, dark eyes looking over the direction and pattern of the blood spray, brow furrowing slightly in worry. It wasn’t a lot, so not a bad wound-but she guessed a broken nose, maybe jaw from being struck with a fist or blunt object. She might be too late.

Grimly, Rachel jumped the couch, landing lightly and silently, moving quickly through the room and into the next-dining room. More signs of a struggle-like the bleeding woman had ran and gotten caught here. Knocked over chairs. A shattered vase that looked like it had been knocked off the table, the rug messed up.

The mark was a married woman, daughter to a mighty politician with enough weight to call in a favor to Rachel’s boss. His daughter was in over her head. His daughter had stopped returning his calls, was possibly held against her will.

Police work, Rachel had scoffed.

The husband was a powerful man however, and so police would do nothing. Fine. A recovery mission.

A muffled sob somewhere, and Rachel stopped, dark brown eyes cutting to the plain white door in the corner. Closet? No…sounded too far off. Rachel drew her weapon, more for the threat of it rather than to use it.

The woman was Bethany Uldricks, 32, and her father, Thomas Emmons, had been desperately trying to get her away from the abusive man she married. English family. Spanish husband. The husband was Stanley Uldricks, and the man was apparently paranoid. Considering the gate and the extensive locks on the windows and doors from the outside, Rachel didn’t believe he was one of good intentions…he was basically imprisoning Bethany here, not letting her father visit, and apparently not letting her out of the house.

So here Rachel was, breaking into a house to escort a woman out of here. Of course, she hadn’t expected her to be a literal prisoner…she had just thought that Stanley would need to have his ass kicked before Rachel could get Bethany out of here.

Moving silently towards the door, Rachel edged it open quietly. Stairs. A basement. A woman was down there, her muffled sobs making Rachel despise the man responsible for it. Giving a cautious glance behind her as her jaw set, Rachel moved down the stairs, closing the unlockable door. There was no sound of a man down here, just the occasional scrap and thud. It was lit by a single light bulb, this concrete basement. A washer and dryer were against one wall. Beneath the light bulb, head bowed and her hands bound behind her with handcuffs, sat a curly haired blonde woman in a kitchen chair. A red handkerchief was tied around her head, and as Rachel rounded around her-she saw that the woman’s blouse had blood on it, from a nose that had bled recently. She was gagged, and clearly terrified.

“Miss Emmons?” Rachel inquired, and the woman snapped her head up, grey eyes wide. She was afraid first-Rachel was wearing a grey turtlenecked, tight fitting sweater as well as dark colored jeans, a traditional cloth headpiece that concealed her hair and all but her eyes on her face. She was not of the religion, but it was an easy way to hide her identity. Only Rachel’s dark brown eyes showed, and the woman stared, but seemed a bit calmer.

She nodded, but looked to the side, unable to see the stairs because her back was to them. “I’m here to escort you out of here. Your father-he’s waiting in a hotel for you, I’m going to take you there.” Rachel said in slightly accented English before she drew a small pocket knife and cut the tight knot of the gag.

Before pulling it away though, she locked eyes with the other woman. “I need you to be calm.” She commanded quietly, and the woman nodded. Rachel tossed the gag aside, moved around to get rid of the cuffs. “H-he’s coming back. To k-kill me.” Bethany whispered, voice breaking twice.

“Not anymore he isn’t." Rachel was careful to keep her voice free of emotion, of inflection-she did not care. She must not care. Get the woman and leave. The end. A jingle of metal as the cuffs were popped. Rachel set them on the floor, nodded for Bethany to stand. The woman swayed a little, burst into fresh tears, but quietly.

Rachel hated men, sometimes. “Be calm, be calm-” She commanded, neither good at reassuring nor willing to attempt emotional connection. Rachel kept an eye on the stairs, but also on her current charge. If the mayor appeared, it could cause an incident. Incidents made agents look bad.

“J-jimmy. He’s got my Jimmy-g-going to c-cripple him.” Beth broke into more sobs, and Rachel felt a cold rush through her blood. Jimmy? A son? What the hell-no one had told her about a son! The absence of Stanley made sense now, and Rachel cursed herself for not searching the entire house before moving down here. “Where?”

“T-the d-den! Going to hurt my Jimmy, oh, not again, not my Jimmy…” Misery, and Rachel was furious with herself for not already finding and helping the boy-why hadn’t anyone briefed her abouta son?!.

“Calm down, I’ll get him, stay.” And pushing Bethany back into her seat, she turned and hurried back up the stairs. She couldn’t let the boy be harmed, damn it all-it was less about her reputation and more basic human -decency.- Rachel moved back up the stairs, skipping every other one, kicking the door open. Stealth was no longer required. Now, she wants a distraction, draw the fucker away from the boy that was here, somewhere.

She was not angry. Anger would compromise her. Rachel moved through the archway out of the dining room, into a kitchen. She kicked shit over and broke things as she went-and sure enough, a door burst open in the room beyond the kitchen-and a blotchy red faced man stood staring at her, holding a tire iron in one hand, a revolver in the other. “Who-who the Fuck are you?” He slurred. Drunk. Of course he was drunk. Apparently, he didn’t really care, because she’s being shot at just as she instinctively dropped into a roll.

Dropping into a roll, Rachel cut to the right and forward, popping back to her feet and kicking the gun out of his hand, ducking the wild swing with the tire iron as she dropped down into a crouch-and tripping him with a well placed sweep kick. He went down, cursing, and Rachel promptly tightened her fist and punched him in the nose. “Ow!” He reached and got a hold of her other wrist, but Rachel hit him again, and then a third time. He let go. Groaning, he was holding his nose now, the drunken idiot.

She kicked him in annoyance as she rose to stand and he whimpered, fainting. Rachel was disgusted by him, and briefly considered killing him. But no…he was too pathetic. If the boy was hurt though-well, no telling what might happen. Rachel kicked him again, turning him on his side so he wouldn’t drown in his own snot and blood, and then stepped over him.

If he remembered anything, he’d never peg her for it.

Rachel moved into the den. She searched along the wall with her left hand and found the switch, filling the room with light-and a growl. She blinked, looked around the room, and spotted a Dalmatian cowering in the corner, alert and watchful, warning her.

…you had to be fucking kidding. “Jimmy?” The dog ceased growling, ears perking, watching her now with expectancy. …Jimmy was a DOG?! Oh, yes, of course he was... God damn. Rachel rubbed her forehead, left hand holstering her gun.

The mutt edged forward, closer to her. Animals usually were not wary of Rachel. He was close now, and Rachel extended her hand, which the mutt sniffed, then licked once. Rachel exhaled. She had nearly caused a political incident over a damned dog.


>>>>>>>>>>>>

Two hours later she was back at her desk, typing the report. She felt clumsy-the mission not her usual grade A work-distracted. Still nothing from the enemy agent, or agents, as it might be. Frustrating.

 

[iamincognito45]

Alex glanced once more at the apartment before stepping thought the door and heading out into the night. Stepping out into the cool evening, he quickly joined the steady of flow of young people headed towards the city center for the evening. He was blessed with a young looking appearance. Although he was 43, he barely looked 30 and had a playful nature that earned him quick acceptance with the younger crowds he encountered during his missions around the world. Most of his missions involved older, established business men and military leaders. It was natural for his counterparts in other agencies to make the classic mistake of overlooking him and it gave him a built in advantage.

Others might have written notes, detailing the addresses he needed to find. But Alex knew better. He was better than most. He knew having any evidence on him was something to be avoided at all costs. He knew from memory the first stop would be the man that had been laid off recently, Mr. Malvin Pinet. As approached the street, Alex paused and stepped into the shadows, taking stock of his surroundings. He quickly noted the street lights and their positions, the coverage of their lights. There were a few folks on the sidewalk. Two young couples headed his way and three young men across the street that seemed to just be hanging out. Which caused a dilemma. Staying on the side of the street where he stood in the shadows would cause him t pass directly in front of the man’s apartment. He would quickly pass the two couples headed his way without drawing any attention. The opposite side of the street would be much better. He would have a much better vantage point of the apartment and windows. Allowing him to see more and for longer without stopping and being obvious he was watching the place. But to cross the street would have him approaching the young men. They would undoubtedly see him and watch him as he approached. They might even engage him in some way, asking for a light, or smokes. They might also remember him if it ever came up.

He decided to pass and move on to the next subject. Maybe the way would be more clear when he returned on his way back to his place. Three blocks further down, he repeated the process of stepping into the shadows and taking a look around. Unlike Mr. Pinet’s place, Ms. Sophie Leclair’s street was dark and deserted. He crossed the street and walked swiftly as he glanced back at the apartment. The entire complex was dark. It was not really late, but there was no obvious sign of anyone home in any of the apartments. At the end of the block, he crossed the street and stood in the shadows for fifteen minutes before heading back down the street. As approached the complex, he stepped into the foyer and leaned into the door heavily as he turned the knob. Had it been locked, he would have easily pushed his way through the flimsy lock. As it turned out, he was surprised to find the door unlocked. Not much security in this part of town he thought as he walked in and headed up the stairs. The woman’s place was on the second floor, first door on the right. Like the street outside, the hallways, were dark and cold, void of any movement. He leaned in and listened to the door. It was silent. Not even a hint of a TV.

Alex swiftly pulled the picks out of his coat pocket and worked the lock silently as he began turning the knob slowly. As the door opened, he slid inside quickly and closed the door as silently as he opened it. He stood there quietly listening. Again, he heard nothing. The apartment was empty. But for how long? He quickly walked through the place, checking the rooms and scouting for anything that might provide some insight into the best way to get close to her. He clothes were neat, stylish and organized. She appeared to be of average build and had an affinity for lacy bras and panties. He bathroom typical of a single woman filled with aromatic shampoos and conditioners and several trendy perfumes. No pictures of friends, family or boyfriends so it was hard to get a good read on her quickly. Looking around, he located her laptop on her dresser in the bedroom. Making note of its position before moving it, he lifted it gently and took it into the kitchen where we could take a closer look. He opened the lid and it quickly came out of hibernation. Even better, it opened up without requiring any password. First note, she was lazy and not overly concerned about her security. It just kept getting better. The first program that opened up was an online dating site. He quickly noted the site and her login name. That could be useful for sure going forward. Also open in the task bar was her web browser. Clicking on the tab, another window opened to reveal an online adult site. Again, he noted the site and her login name. Looking around, he wondered how long he had. No reason to be sloppy he thought. Still, he was curious now as he touched a few keys to pull up her adult site profile. Her online persona was clearly a more sexually aggressive version of herself. No doubt, acting out her fantasies in the safety of the online world.

He had what he needed for now, careful to get her laptop back to the screen it was before closing it and placing it back on the dresser. He glanced around her apartment once more before opening the door, locking it, and leaving down the stairs and out the door into the darkness. He thought about what he learned as he headed back to the other apartment to see if the area was safer than it was before. As he approached the intersection, he glanced down the street to see the three young boys still hanging out across the street. He decided to call it a night and head back to his place.

Walking into his apartment, Alex fired up his computer and entered the password before heading to the kitchen for a bottle of water. Returning to his desk he opened his email to see a report from Dacia. She had been assigned to the mission and was already inbound. She would be there later that night, would get settled in and begin working on the Engineering Director first thing in the morning. He then logged onto the online dating site, created a quick profile and sent Ms. Leclair an opening and rather inviting message.

It had been a long day. Alex slowly logged off and closed his computer. He pushed his chair back and headed for the bathroom, disrobing along the way and piling his clothes on the floor in front of the door. Starting the water, he paused while he waited for the hot water to make its way through the pipes. Dacia was headed to town. Nothing had ever happened between them but that didn’t mean that Alex didn’t fantasize about her from time to time. She was sexy, smart and deadly. And in all the missions he had seen her involved in, he had never seen her fail to seduce her targets. Testing the water, he wondered what it would be like to be seduced by her. He stepped inside the shower and felt the warm water run over his head, through his short hair and down his body. It felt good and he immediately started relaxing as he began washing his hair and lathering up his body. First his hair and face. Then his neck, under his arms, along his arms, over his chest. And then, moving his soapy hands down his body, between his legs. Lathering up his hair, down along the sides of his cock. Between his legs and around and around his heavy balls before finally, washing his cock. As his hands worked back and forth, his thoughts returned to Dacia…

 

[Ambrosia_64]

(I'm going to say two weeks have passed-perhaps he's gotten in with the female engineer in this time. Dacia could have been captured two or three days before, disappearing completely. Rachel orchestrated the capture but did not personally perform it.)

Dacia was detained in a grey, bland room void of warmth or comfort-her hands were firmly secured to either arm of the cold metal chair, her ankles likewise shackled. A male and female operative had taken turns interrogating her for hours and hours-the woman playing a friendly ear, the man full of threats and intimidating undertones. He had been the one to slap her around, to run his hand along the back of her neck and shoulders with implicit threat.

She had been allowed a bathroom break and a bit of water-but no food, no sleep, and certainly no Russian embassy visits.

They needed her to talk. Watching the black and white video feed in the adjoining room, Rachel scrutinized the Russian woman, her red painted lips pursed in displeasure. "She's not talking." Michael Crew said tiredly, leaning against the desk to run his hand through his hair. "I don't want to push it any further." He admitted, and the retired general murmured an agreement, paging through his files.

"You want to take a crack at her? Before...before we up the ante?" Torture. He meant torture, and Rachel's eyes narrowed on the screen. This woman had better talk, if she knew what was good for her.

Without speaking, the petite powerhouse left the room, passing the two stationed guards as she pressed her palm to the door reader. With a clang of loosening bolts and a hiss of air, the door slid open-allowing the five foot four Spanish woman to enter. She didn't look like the two operatives who had been questioning Dacia before-hell, she hardly looked like an operative-wearing a dark blue, form fitting sweater, pin striped pants with a black, shiny belt. Her shoes were simple, comfortable looking flats, her dark hair drawn up behind her head in a high pony tail, accentuating the almond shape of her dark, dark eyes fringed with dark lashes.

Rachel strode into the room, coming to a stop four feet away, her arms crossing beneath her chest, studying the woman up close as the door sealed behind her. For several moments, Rachel said absolutely nothing-even if Dacia spat an insult or a plea in her direction.

"We already know there's another here." Rachel said in slow Spanish, her lips forming the words carefully but seriously-sizing the other woman up. "We know because our source said a -man- was being sent, and you are no man." Rachel moved to walk around her silently, seemingly thinking as her eyes slid across the caught spy's frame.

"They've been playing the good cop, bad cop routine...but we both know you're too smart for that. Who are you, little spy? No...more important-who did you come here with?"

Rachel didn't want to turn this woman over to Eric. She was loyal to her country, her job was all that mattered to her-but when it came to the dark side of things...she would just as soon find other methods, other ways.

That, and Eric would enjoy the Russian woman's defiance. Rachel turned her mind to the task at hand, her smooth, quiet voice seeming to settle over the room. "I can send you home. On the books, it would be an exchange-your life and freedom for the life and freedom of one of ours. They would never know you talked."

She continued her slow pace around her, closer now as she paused before her, bending forward slightly as her voice dropped into a near whisper. "What angle is he working, Russian? Tell me, and you go home. My superiors would have you suffer at the hands of...less savory sorts. I would leave you be-out of my country, I care not where you go."

 

[iamincognito45]

Laying in the bed, awake and restless, Alex began taking stock of the situation. The missions was taking longer than most. Certainly longer than planned. He was a man that was focused, driven and relentless. Though he did have to admit to himself that he may have been wrong about the woman engineer. Ms. Sophie Leclair was not an easy mark. At least not easy in the sense of willing to give up the company secrets he wanted. Easy in other ways perhaps…

The night after he broke into her apartment, Alex went home and began working on his plan to let her find him. He logged into the dating site and created a profile and immediately sent her a message. He billed himself as a new to town single man that traveled the world in his job. He then logged onto the adult site, created a profile there and stalked her posts, trying to get a sense of her style and online persona. He eventually got in contact with her through the dating site, they met for coffee, then lunch and then it full on. He knew from the other adult site that she had some wild, aggressive desires that she hid well in real life relationships. But that night, when they got back to her place, Alex let loose on her and she responded.

He started a little slow, to test her and she let him know she liked it. As soon as they closed the door, he had pinned her against the wall and kissed her hard. She not only received his hard kisses, she growled like a cat and tiled her head back offering her neck. From there, it went to nibble and bites, a little light hair pulling and eventually with him tossing her on the bed like a rag doll. She might have been a librarian type in the outside world, but in the private confines of her apartment, she was an animal. The sex ended up hard and rough, bordering on abusive. The harder Alex gave it to her, the more she liked it. And after two long rounds, she was out. Alex was worn out too, but in the end, he was disappointed. Between rounds, they had chatted a bot and Alex tried to bait her into sharing some things from her work. He appealed to her ego and all but begged for a tidbit, but she turned out to be loyal and anything but forthcoming.

So here he was disappointed. Sure, he had an enjoyable romp in the sex, but he had failed to make any ground on the mission. And that was why he was here. The mission. The defense technology his country needed. And he wasn’t going to get it here. Not anytime soon anyway. Lying in bed with a wild woman was nice, but it was not furthering the mission. Maybe Dacia was having better luck with her mark. Being careful not to pull the covers or bounce the mattress, Alex slid out of the bed, got dressed quietly and left the apartment without saying goodbye. It would be the last time he would see Sophie Leclair.

As he approached his street, he began to look around closely. Mindful of the potential threats that might be lurking in the shadows. Seeing none, he slipped quickly into the foyer of his building, looking around once again before heading up to his apartment. Once inside, he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, started the water in the shower and opened his computer. He gulped at the cold water anxious to quench his thirst and replenish the fluids lost at Sophie’s. A small smile passed his lips as he thought of the wild woman he just left when his email finally opened.

There was only one message waiting. Labeled urgent. It was from the agency director back in Moscow. He wanted an status report immediately. And he was raising the alert level to five, the highest level Alex ad seen in his many years with the agency. Dacia had gone off the grid. It wasn’t unusual for agents to go quiet for periods of time. It happened. They got busy and sometimes had difficulty checking in daily. And sometimes, there was nothing to report. It was true of Alex too. He checked his email daily but had not submitted a report in two days himself. But they expected a report from her two days ago. And ever increasing efforts to reach her had proven futile so far. Normally, one agent would never interact with another while on a mission. It was part of the security protocol Never threaten a mission by compromising two agents when only one might be in danger of being discovered. But circumstances here were different. They were waiting on this critical technology. At a standstill in fact. Tens of millions of dollars of equipment offline and hundreds of scientists sitting idle waiting.

Alex thought back to those earlier reports. The stern warnings of the Spanish counter agent. A woman that was to be avoided at all costs. A woman that got results. And now, Dacia is missing. He knew Dacia was capable and strong and not one prone to mistakes. But it was possible something had happened. He knew nothing of her mission here other than the same end goal. Presumably, she had been working on one of the other marks. The engineering director most likely. But he had so little information to go on. The instructions in the email were clear. Drop what you are doing and focus all your time and energy on locating Dacia.

Things were getting complicated in a hurry. He had no leads other than the engineering director. He was sure this is the lead Dacia was chasing so that would be the first place he would start. But then again, if Dacia was working the mark and something happened to her, then the mark could be dangerous indeed. Maybe not the mark himself, but possibly the agency watching the mark. They could be protecting him. Or possibly using him and just watching him to see if anyone approaches him. Alex pulled up the file he was originally given when he arrived in town and started reading up on the engineering director. Danger or not, he had to go looking for Dacia. And it was still consistent with his mission. Which had hit a snag with Sophie anyway. She was a great little slut and a lot of fun, but she wasn’t going to offer him anything useful. Time to move on to the next mark and it might as well be the mark Dacia was chasing.

 

[Ambrosia_64]

Rachel didn't get anywhere with spy, reluctantly turning the her over to the interrogation experts.

They sent a message to their man on the inside, and the mole passed along an email address. Rachel wrote the email herself, telling the intelligence on the other side that they had their spy and demanded to know just what they were up about. A farce, mostly, since they knew -exactly- what the Russians were after.

Rachel frowned at her computer, thinking. Perhaps they would send their other spy to rescue this one. Perhaps. Rachel saved the document and picked up the laptop, walking down the street and around the corner to a cafe to send it. It had been a long day, and now that it was completed-she only really wanted a long work out and some coffee.

The director was being watched, something Alex would pick up on rather quickly-it seems he was a trap after all, cleverly set up to draw them in. And so was Mal-but Mal ran every day, and Alex would notice his detail-a black sedan parked alongside the street-didn't go with him.

It would be there he could contact the disgruntled engineer, a man eager to spill everything. What was more-he knew the names of several operatives, their -real- names, having glimpsed some payroll files a few years before.

Alex had a lead!

 

[iamincognito45]

Alex needed some time to think. He grabbed and orange and peeled before heading to the bathroom. He split the orange and began devouring the slices as the water warmed before stepping inside. He needed a plan but he needed to be careful. He was used to being the aggressor. He certainly was unaccustomed to being in a defensive position. How could he search for Dacia and still pursue the mission? The warm water cascaded over his body as he washed his hair and began lathering his body. His work out routines had become, well, routine. Even among the missions and he was in the best shape of his life. He washed his arms, then his chest as his soapy hands worked their way lower and lower, to his cock and, his legs and then back up to his ass before rinsing off and stepping out to dry off. Rather than dressing, he returned to the kitchen for a cold beer and then sat down at the desk in just a towel.

He has an email waiting. It was a message from the Spanish agency to his home office, forwarded to him. They had captured Dacia. It was a message but not a ransom note. Just a note saying they had her. Well at least they knew she was alive. Certainly not well. But alive for now. Truth be known, agents were killed in the field often. But rarely, almost never once captured. She would suffer one of three fates. She would spend the rest of her days in a Spanish jail. Or she would be traded in some spy swap of some kind. Or she would be rescued. Although the latter was rarely the case. They had no idea where she was. The only thing left for Alex was to pick up the pace and see what he could find.

Time to reach out for the engineer. If he was mark, it might help him find the agency that had Dacia. And he might turn the engineer to give up the secrets after all. He grabbed another orange, peeled it and headed out the door, headed to the engineer’s street. As he approached, he could see the black sedan still watching his apartment from across the street. He wondered if the engineer even noticed. Probably not, but Alex did. And he was cautious. Standing in the shadows on the corner, he was thinking of a way to get past the stakeout detail. But how? And then suddenly, he saw the man jump down the steps and take off down the street towards him. Watching closely, Alex was surprised the sedan did not follow. Could it be this easy? He pressed against the dark wall as the man ran right past him and turned the corner. Alex took off after him. Although he was not really dressed to jog, he could easily keep up with the man even if his clothes betrayed him somewhat. He kept a safe distance as the man turned again and headed into a dark park. Alex sped up quickly and caught him from behind. A sharp blow to the back of the head. Not hard enough to knock him unconscious, but hard enough to stun him. Alex grabbed the man in a choke and quickly got his attention.

“Don’t move or I’ll kill you. Don’t make a sound, or I’ll kill you. Do you understand?”

The man nodded dumbly.

“I’m not robbing you. But I am kidnapping you. Do as you are told and you will be let go safe and sound. You are not the one I want. Just a means to an end. Understand?”

Again, the man nodded dumbly, still stunned by the blow.

“Good. Let’s go. Walk with me and if you so much as flinch, You’ll be dead before you take another step. I’ll leave you bleeding and dying and be gone before you hit the ground.”

Alex grabbed the man’s arm and walked him quickly up the street. The man was uneasy on his feet and Alex wanted to get him back to his apartment before he regained his footing or his senses. Two minutes later, they were in the room and Alex had him tied securely to the chair. He then sat down and banged out a quick email to his head office.

The email was simple. Pass this note along to the Spanish agency. Tell them I have an engineer from the company. I want to meet with people that have Dacia. If they refuse, I’ll kill the man tomorrow and leave his body parts all over town. Along with notes that he is but the first of many to be killed. Brutally and randomly and there is nothing the police can do to stop them.

Alex hoped the terroristic threat would get someone’s attention. Dacia was not so great a catch that they could afford to have the entire city gripped by fear. Not when they knew they could stop it. He knew they would respond. The only question left was, would they simply release Dacia? Or would they try to find him too? Before he hit send, he left them a little bait. He could be found. Maybe. In the crowded city center. Tomorrow at noon.

 

[Ambrosia_64]

The reponse was as cold as it was callous. No engineers were missing, merely a fired, worthless man no longer working with them. Do what you will.

An international incident was building, they claimed-if Soviet spies were murdering citizens against Geneva conventions, Dacia would be tried and executed and the other man rooted out and murdered.

Knives in the dark, threats upon threats.

And the crowded city center was flush with men and women in the service of the Spanish government.

Some were obvious. others less so.

Rachel was there, looking like an everyday business woman, coffee in hand, a paper under one arm, a flat clutch in her free hand...but within the paper she carried a taser, her red sweater dress concealing the lethal blade sheathed at the small of her back.

Behind sunglasses, her dark eyes watched the people closely, searching for any who didn't belong. Her nerves were raw, drawn tight-but she was cool under pressure. They would get this guy.

 

[iamincognito45]

Alex wondered if the threat would work. It was a chicken shit threat. And they surely knew it. But he also knew they couldn’t take the chance. Governments were gutless like that. No one wanted to have to face the public outcry if random people starting dying suddenly. And no one wanted to face the political fallout if it was ever discovered they knew and did nothing about it.

It was a beautiful sunny day and the city center was packed with locals and tourists all rushing out to enjoy the beautiful weather. There were plenty of police and security around. Not unusual for a weekend but it was obvious to him there were more than usual. And they were being especially careful, looking in hidden areas, watching people more closely. As was Alex.

They would be sitting in the background watching, watching for him. He knew that. Looking up at the buildings, checking the rooflines, he tried to be as casual as he could. Looking around obviously could be as obvious as if he were holding a gun out in public. The man was sitting in a corner of a coffee shop. Looking back and forth, scanning the masses. Alex watched him for a long time. Watching where he was looking. The man was not watching, he was scanning. Could be a scout. Maybe. Alex looked around some more and then, something caught his eye.

She was a beautiful woman. Smartly dressed. But that was what caught his eye. This was a Saturday. She looked alert and tense. Which gave him an idea. He worked his way around behind her. Sizing her up. Which made him smile. She was wearing stylish black heels that were neither too high or too low. And they accented her calves nicely. Alex had a thing for women that were in shape and shapely, sexy calves drove him wild. He stared at her legs as his eyes worked their way up. She was wearing a mid-length red sweater dress that framed a nice round ass and hugged her full hips, accentuating her curves. A black accented belt around her tight waist rising to her full, high breasts. She was wearing dark glasses so he couldn’t see her eyes or where she was looking but her head was a little unnaturally still which made him think perhaps she was hiding, scanning behind her shades. He stood behind her for a long moment admiring her shapely form. She was a little taller than average with long dark hair and he imagined was firm and tight in all the right places. Bending down slightly, he could see she had something shiny tucked into her paper.

But how to flush her out? He decided to work back around in front of her. Standing in the open, he made an obvious attempt to scan around the crowd. He tried to look a little nervous and reached into the inside of his coat a couple of times as if checking to see if something was where it was supposed to be. Then he looked around the café where the woman was and locked his gaze directly on her. He stared at her for a long moment and then turned suddenly and hurried through the crowd and around the corner.

 

[Ambrosia_64]

Rachel took a long "sip" of coffee, murmuring a "check the shops" to the microphone within-when she sensed eyes on her. Her head turned slightly just as he moved on, dark eyes sweeping the area past her shoulder, a slight frown on her lips.

She could have sworn...

She faced forward again-and saw him. Clumsy. Nervous. Rachel moved to walk, casual, slow-but his eyes lit upon her and then she knew. "Dark medium length hair, some facial hair-six foot plus, athletic and moving." She bit off into the coffee, shielding her mouth from any other eyes as she kept her cover, hardly hurrying her pace as a few men peeled off to follow.

She quickened her pace, dispensing with cover altogether when he turned the corner-could it be this easy? No, something was wrong here, it couldn't be. Something off. It nagged at her but questions were sounding in her earpiece and she had to utter orderS.

"Lost him?" Her disappointment-and frustration were obvious. "Split up, now."

And then Rachel was tearing through the back alleys and streets of her hometown, taking the path SHE would have taken, were she a trained foreigner on the run. And yet...too easy, too easy. What had he hoped to accomplish, killing civilians? She had thought it'd be an empty threat, and as she sprinted down a side street that was eerily empty-it occurred to her it'd be a good place to ambush...some...one...

Shit.

Rachel turned and pressed her back into the wall, newspaper dropped to produce the taser- (Interruption, perhaps?~)

 

[iamincognito45]

Alex kept looking back to make sure he was seen as he rounded every corner racing through the tight inner city blocks. Through the moving traffic, around the parked cars, in and out of sight. To the woman chasing him, he seemed to be running a desperate, random pattern. Panicked running trying to escape. And yet, this seemingly random path was anything but. The trap was being laid out and executed far better than even Alex could have hoped. The woman was so desperate to catch him, she didn’t realize she was being led away from help. And witnesses. Until it was too late.

By the time she realized it, it was too late. In a single breath, she went from being the hunter, to suddenly realizing, she might be the hunted. She dropped the paper and readied the taser looking back and forth.

“Just like the Spanish to send a woman with a taser.” Alex said as he stepped around the small panel van. She was even more beautiful than the reports suggested. And probably more dangerous too. He would have to be very careful with this one.

“Give up now and make it easy on yourself.” The woman hissed as she reached for her radio.

“Not so fast.” Alex spat as he lunged at the woman.

Startled, she dropped the radio on the ground and swung the taser at him. He ducked and pushed her arm out of the way as she kicked him hard on the side of the knee. His leg half buckled before he regained his balance. He swung a backhand as she tried ducking but she was too late. His fist caught her heavily on the top of her head. Causing her to stagger and see stars. As she shook her head to clear the cobwebs, Alex grabbed the hand with the taser and pulled it behind her back, twisting it painfully as he pushed her hard up against the van. Leaning his considerable weight into her, he reached up with a free hand and opened the sliding side door as she fell in and he fell in after her. She continued struggling and kneed him in the groin as she fought with all her strength. She grabbed him by the hair and punched him hard face, splitting is lip and drawing a spurt of blood. But once again, his superior strength and weight advantage proved to be the difference. He grabbed her wrists to control them and used his weight to control her body as they wrestled before he was finally straddling her hips while holding her wrists over her head. She was feisty and strong and Alex had worked up quite a sweat in the struggle. His balls were aching from the knee he took and he could feel his lip swelling as blood continued to drip down his chin. She was breathing as heavy as he was now, struggling underneath him, her breasts heaving as her back arched in an effort to throw him off her.

 

[Ambrosia_64]

"Y los Rusos enviar hombres por una mujer del trabajo." She hissed in her fast, native Spanish, her body shifting, shoulders and torso lowering a fraction as her fit body took a stance. Reverting to slight accented English, she spoke in a lethal low tone. "Give up, Russian."

She brought the taser up just as he lunged, releasing the coffee cup radio as he came into range-he ducked and shoved her arm out of the way, Rachel turning slightly to deliver a powerful kick to the side of his knee that failed to break it-but did throw him off balance long enough for her to click the button on her pocketbook, a knife sliding out.

She pulled back that arm, aiming to stab down into his shoulder-but the fist came heavily across her skull, knocking her senseless for the precious few seconds it took for him to seize and twist her arm, slamming her bodily into the van.

Rachel grunted, slamming the pocketbook/knife against the side of the van to shove backwards into him-when the door slid open and she fell forward, dropping the book in order to twist around just before he too crashed in and on top of her. Violently she threw a knee into his groin, the fingers of her left hand threading through and pulling hard at his hair before she headbutted him with a furious cry, her right hand loosening, pulling the belt around her small waist free.

The split second she had gained with the headbutt Rachel looped the belt around his neck, pulling at either end to choke him-when he grabbed hold of her toned arms and forced them over her head, hands sliding to her delicate wrists. Her attempt to subdue him having failed, Rachel desperately, angrily tried to get her hands free as he moved up along her body to straddle her hips, limiting the range of her legs as she tried to kick him, toned, spandex covered thighs bumping into his back as she pulled at her arms, panting with her back arched, fighting to free herself from his grip.

Her fire was attractive, she was attractive, the delicate column of her throat exposed, that pool of dark hair behind her head-even as she tried furiously to throw him off, dark eyes filled with anger. She had never been captured. She had never failed a mission in her -life-, how dare this Russian best her!

How could she have been so foolish!?

She ceased her struggle to stream Spanish curses, the fiery words tumbling from her lips almost like a dark prayer as she glared up at him, gears turning to turn the situation to her advantage.

 

[iamincognito45]

She had finally stopped struggling, realizing she was not going to get free. His full weight was resting on her stomach, forcing her diaphragm high up preventing her from taking a full breath. And his grip was strong and relentless. His hands wrapped around her wrists tightly, causing them to ache. The more she fought, the tighter his grip became until she thought he might break them. Straddling her hips, he leaned into her face and hissed.

“И испанском отправить женщину, чтобы сделать работу человека.” He could see her eyes boring into his, struggling with the translation. He then reverted to English for a moment adding “Or if you prefer… Y los españoles enviar a una mujer a hacer el trabajo de un hombre.” He knew she understood by the sudden increased tensión he felt in her body.

The more she fought to get free, the more he toyed with her. Her had her in a very difficult position. He knew it. And she surely knew it too. But she was a fighter, trained to fight to the death if necessary. She tried in vain to roll her hips back and forth, trying to buck him off but his strong thighs just pressed harder against her ribs further hampering her ability to breathe. Alex could sense she was quickly losing her strength. Her struggles against his grip on her wrists was weakening. As was the strength in her legs trying to lift him off her. He just continued applying the pressure, sucking the fight out of her. And as he did, he couldn’t help but notice her beauty. He loved a feisty woman and she was certainly all that. No doubt about it. But she was also beautiful. Sexy in fact. Ina way that few spys were. Most women that moved into the spy world were rather homely. Brainy, but not typically attractive. But not Rachel. He knew of her. Had read her report. He knew she was supposed to be beautiful. But there had been no photo. No one had ever caught her on camera.

And now he had her. She was here. Right underneath him. And in spite of her fierce anger, she was still sexy. She was not thin. She was shapely. Curvy. But tone and firm in all the right places. He could feel her strength beneath him. Her breasts were large and round and firm as they protruded up in her red sweater dress, rocking back and forth. She couldn’t keep still as she continued to struggle to get free. It was then that Alex realized he was getting an erection. He could feel it straining against his slacks and wondered if she could feel it too as she rocked back and forth. This really was not the time or the place. Much less the woman. She was the enemy. And she just kneed him in the balls. And he was pretty sure she would jump at the chance to bite his dick off. He tried to will it back down, but the more she struggled and the more he leaned into, the more aroused he became.

So now what? What to do with her now that he had her? He really hadn’t thought that part through. He had her pined and overwhelmed. But they were in the back of a panel van in the City center. And he really hadn’t planned on capturing her this way. He started looking around the inside of the van for a way to restrain her when he spotted some rope in the back corner behind them. But it was out of reach given their current position. He tried spreading out his weight on top of her and reaching back with one of his legs but she kept fighting. As soon as his weight shifted, she struggled even harder. The only thing he could do would be to struggle and wrestle her around until he positioned her such that the rope was within easy reach of his hands. Alex started pushing and dragging and maneuvering her around the floor of the van inch by inch. With each shuffle, her strength seemed to increase as she sensed her desperate situation getting worse. And the more she fought, the more aroused he became. His erection was getting painful now, the only real relief coming from grinding his crotch into her as they wrestled around. He wondered if she noticed.

After what seemed like an eternity, he finally had her turned around. The constant struggle had exhausted her and he was easily able to release her wrists with one hand while he tied them together with the other. And then he tied her bound wrists to the interior hinge of the back door. She started to scream when he leaned over her and placed a hand over her open mouth. She tried to bite him but he cupped his hand while he kept pressing it over her mouth. Soon, she started getting lightheaded from the lack of oxygen and stopped struggling before she passed out. Alex was getting tired too as he sat up on her stomach to stretch and catch his breath now that her hands were bound. As he did, it became quite obvious he had an erection as it poked up, straining against his slacks.

“Look what you did bitch.” He growled as he looked down guiding her attention to his crotch. “If you’re a good little girl, you might be rewarded with a chance to enjoy it.” He said with a wicked little wink. “And if you’re a bad little girl, you just might get it shoved up your ass!”

 

[Ambrosia_64]

He dragged, wrestled and forced her further inside the interior of the van despite her struggles. Was he enjoying this? Rachel cursed him breathlessly as she tried not to panic. Her file would be stamped MIA. This would lower her success rate, force her superiors to arrange a trade...if they even would.

Would she even be alive TO be traded? He wrapped the rough rope around her wrists, and Rachel began to scream, quickly muffled by the hand pressed to her mouth and nose, her attempt to bite failing, her dark eyes angry, panicked, a bit fearful of him as her body twisted and pulled at the restraints, the edges of her vision darkening with the lack of air...

She went still, weak and restrained, drawing in shaky, half pants since he still sat upon her stomach. His taunts sickened her, full lips drawing back slightly, thinking to spit or something, but instead- "They'll find you. No where to hide, Russian." She said in that accented English.

 

[iamincognito45]

“Nowhere to hide you say? Ha!” he hissed back at her. “I don’t need to hide. How soon you forget. Or maybe you don’t even realize. I am the one the sniffed you out! In your own country. In your own town!” Rubbing her nose in it only fueled her rage as she bucked and hissed. She was losing her cool. He knew it. And she knew it too. She was no longer the calm, cool agent she thought she was. She was beaten. Defeated. And full of rage. In fact, she was close to breaking. “That’s it. Keep struggling. I’m really starting to enjoy it.” He said with a wicked laugh as he started rocking on her stomach, grinding his erection into her. His weight rocking on her stomach was really forcing the breath out of her now. Combined with the strain on her wrists now bound over her head and her struggle for the last thirty minutes had her on the verge of passing out.

She finally started to relent. Defeated, exhausted and out of options, she realized she had no choice. She might as well conserve what little energy she had left. “Now see? The easier you make this, the easier it will be for the both of us.” Alex looked down and could see her dress had ridden up her legs in the struggle. It was now bunched up around her hips and waist were he sat. He reached down and placed his hands firmly on her hips, holding her and her dress tight as he
slid down, over her full hips. He rocked a few more times just for his own pleasure. She was full and firm in all the right places and he twitched at the thought of what she would be like in the sack. Sliding further down her legs, he could now see up her under the hem of her dress. She was wearing a nice matching red thong. Once again, he rocked back and forth, only this time closing his eyes, imagining he was sliding his hard cock up under her dress, into her tight folds. Yes he thought, she would be good fun fuck for sure. But not yet. Not here. Not now. He shook his head slightly as he opened his eyes and continued to slide down her legs until he was straddling her ankles painfully. He kept them pinned and began lashing her legs. Fist together and then to the base of the front seat. She was now securely bound and no longer a threat. At least not physically. But he knew he would need to be careful with her. As soon as he rolled off her legs, she suddenly started to scream. He twirled around quickly and punched her square in the stomach. She let out a weak scream as the punch drove the wind out of her again and wracked her with pain.

Leaning close to her face he spoke softly, “You’ll pay for that later. Now listen to me carefully bitch. And listen good. You have been captured. No one can help you now. If you keep quiet and cooperate this will go better for you. Regardless it will be bad. But if you make so much as a peep, I will take off my dirty sock and shove it in your mouth before I tape your mouth shut with duct tape. Do you understand?” He could see her struggling with the instinct to fight and rebel and the will to live another hour to find a better opening to try to escape. She finally nodded meekly as he rose back up again and headed to the front seat.

Climbing into the driver’s seat, Alex started the van, glanced back at his captive once more and pulled away from the curb. The drive through the City Center was crowded and slow but uneventful. Which was good. He was still running on adrenaline. Odd that he was so calm during the dangerous part of the pursuit and capture and so keyed up during the fight inside the van. As he made his way back to the middle of town, to the residential areas, he thought about his captive. So beautiful and feisty. She reminded him of Dacia. And she was captured too. But what to do with this one? He really hadn’t thought that far along. Probably best to just get her back to his place and interrogate her. No need to call back home till he knew more.

As he approached the apartment, he realized he had another problem now. It was late in the afternoon, but still light outside. How was he going to get her in the apartment. Especially fighting the way she surely would. Turning back to check on her he said “So, we are a little early. Still light outside. Which means we get to stay here and get to know each other better while we wait for the dark to come.”

She turned her head towards the cab of the van and spit before hissing “You’ll get nothing out of me you Russian prick. You think you have me, but you have nothing!”

“I think I have quite a lot Rachel. The Spanish agency’s top female operative. Not so top now are you?”

 

[Ambrosia_64]

Rachel settled those enigmatic dark eyes on his, staring him down. There was no more struggling, no more cursing and hissing at him.

He moved down her body in distraction, and Rachel quickly turned her attention to her bound wrists. She had not managed to cross them, to give herself wiggle room-and as her fingers wrapped around the thick fibers, she recognized she would not be escaping them on her own. She drew in a full breath as he bound her ankles-and realized she was no longer wearing her ear piece, that it was on the floor of the van somewhere, lost in the struggle.

Her radio was still in the alley, having been dropped. It was still on. They surely had heard the struggle. Were they closing in? Did they even know which way she had gone? She called out the alley's side street and was promptly punched in the gut, ending her call of duress in a pathetic cough and wheeze.

So she was caught.

He made a threat and she gave a quick, simple nod before he slipped into the driver's seat, drove on. Statistically, she had a forty percent chance of survival, so long as her comrades held the woman, the Russian spy in league with this one. Ironic she had spoke against torture, and now she herself was captured and would no doubt NOT be shown any such kindess.

Rachel twisted her shoulders and hips for slack in the rope, but there simply wasn't any. Her toned legs were exposed, her body drawn taut between the hinge and the seat itself. She had never been captured. Had never been dependent on outside assistance before-and now she hoped like hell her second in command would know what to do, that he didn't offer the Russian his comrade on a silver platter just for her sake.

Rachel may be captured, but she was too committed to the mission to place her own safety over the protection of the company's secrets.

"“So, we are a little early. Still light outside. Which means we get to stay here and get to know each other better while we wait for the dark to come.”

Rachel narrowed her eyes at the ceiling of the van. "I have nothing to say to the likes of -you-." She said seriously, her breasts rising and falling in even, steady breaths as she composed herself...only for her to feel alarm when he spoke her name.

But she didn't show it. Oh no, it would do her no good for him to know just how important his capture was. "Is that who you think I am?" She said with feigned surprise, looking down towards her feet, towards the cab of the van. She laughed, but weakly from the punch. "No, you haven't captured that big of a prize, Russian fool."

Oh God he knew who she was. Or thought he did. Rachel didn't dare let him think she was who she was. She must be a nobody. She must know nothing. It would make denying his questions easier, later.

She hoped the agency had a plan. She knew she would not crack, but if she did...every agent, every security file would be compromised. What a -fool- she had been!

Still, to Alex-his prize was still a good one, given her toned curves and fit form beneath that sweater dress.