Sharkman
Governor
Sigh …. All in the line of duty. What a team!
Sure? There seems to be a mole, Agent Moore. Ah, @Loinclothslave, do you know more than Moore?
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Sexpionage IV
- Thread starter Fossy
- Start date
Sure? There seems to be a mole, Agent Moore. Ah, @Loinclothslave, do you know more than Moore?
Room for one Moore?
It is not a slave’s place to divulge if it knows more or indeed if it has seen Moore!
All is discreet at Casino Royale
Sharkman
Governor
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Freedom Found (1)
The Basement Cells, X-Wing, at Hinseburg Prison, Frövi, Sweden
Lacey woke with a hand clamped over her mouth. It was dark. The only light in the room came from a cell phone propped against the wall, which blinded her. As her eyes adjusted, her heart nearly leapt out of her chest when she saw a pair of thin, depraved looking eyes … just staring.
The pervert was back.
Even as her mind snapped into full wakefulness, he slapped a fresh strip of duct tape over her mouth.
Wait, it wasn’t the pervert, well not THE pervert. It was Hansom … Fuck!
“We don’t have much time,” he panted, clearly infused by lust as he knelt by Lacey’s side. She bucked and slammed her bound wrists against his chest. The force of it knocked him on his ass. She tried to get to her feet, but with her ankles also bound, she toppled back to the floor.
“Stupid bitch. You think you’re too good for me, now that the South African cunt has you all to himself, huh?”
Erik Hansom rolled the exhausted girl onto her back and grabbed his phone, raising the light so he could see her naked body.
“Fuck, you are still so pretty despite everything they’ve done to you. If I had my knife, I’d mark you so every man who fucked you would know I was the first to have you when you arrived here.”
Tears leaked out of the corner of her eyes. Her body trembled in revulsion. The expression in his eyes was filled with evil malevolence.
“The world is divided into two types of men,” Hansom said as he slid a grubby, dirty hand over her breasts, down her quivering stomach, and then between her thighs. “Men who ask, and men who take.”
On the last word, he shoved his fingers into her dry core. Lacey’s head kicked back at the pain, hitting the concrete so hard she saw stars. The monster jammed his fingers into her body unmercifully, completely immune to her cries and body’s rejection of the intrusion.
“Come on, get wet for me, slut,” he said and picked up the pace. “We don’t have time for you to fuck around.”
She cried out as his dirty fingernails jabbed into the wall of her vagina. Despite her throbbing head and the hopeless situation, she struck out with her bound hands and managed to claw his face. He screeched and dropped the phone, throwing the room into complete darkness.
“You fucking bitch, that’s evidence against me now!” The blow came out of nowhere. Her head collided with the floor, and everything went black.
Room 216, Scandic City Central Hotel Örebro
“There! That should do it,” observed Barb as she gave the knot binding Niko’s wrists together behind his back a final tug. The SÄPO agent winced. He lay naked on his side in the middle of the hotel room bed, eyes focused on Jase who covered the bound and gagged Finn with the man’s own gun.
“Yes, he’s not going anywhere soon,” agreed Jase.
“What’s next?” she said circling around the foot of the bed to join Jase at his side.
She was still naked, having not taken the time to put something on before throwing herself into the task of tying up the man she had just enticed into having sex with her. And Jase couldn’t help but track her as she rounded the bed, his gaze fixated on the gentle ripple of her thighs and slight sway and bob of her breasts.
They embraced silently, during which Jase allowed his hands to roam downward to clasp, lift and gently squeeze the twin cheeks of her bare ass. There they lingered until he managed to put lust aside. Releasing her, he replied, “Why don’t you go and get some clothes on first, and then we’ll see if we can access his cell phone.”
“Alright,” she murmured, making a bit of a pouty face. Moving quickly to her bag, still sitting on the floor near the door where Niko had left it, she extracted a pair of black bikini undies, a pair of tight blue jeans, and a long green cable-knit sweater … and proceeded to put them on.
Meanwhile, Jase had begun to examine Niko’s cell phone, making various fruitless attempts to open it.
“Let me see that!” she demanded after watching over his shoulder impatiently. “Okay, it’s obvious he’s not using Face ID.”
“I figured that much, otherwise I’d have forced him to look at the phone!” snapped Jase with a trace of irritation in his voice.
“And it’ll take you forever to guess the password, if that’s what you’re wasting time doing, so let’s assume it’s a thumbprint. Here, help me press the phone against his thumb!”
“How do you know it’s not his forefinger?”
“Imaginative intuition. Something we CIA agents have in abundance, as opposed to our more hidebound MI6 cousins.”
“Smart ass!”
Together they wrenched Niko’s hand around to a position in which his thumb could be pressed against his phone.
“Voilà! We’re in!” she exclaimed triumphantly.
“Let’s see what’s in here that could be useful,” mused Jase, snatching the phone from her. “Ahhh, here we go. A contact number and a special code for a Pontus Sjöberg.”
“Who is that?”
“Appears to be a high-ranking Swedish official whom Niko has apparently been in touch with lately. I’m thinking a cleverly worded text message to that number might open doors for us once we get to Frövi.”
“You mean something like … expect two individuals driving a black VolvoXC40 with Finnish plates to arrive circa some point in time and admit?”
“Something like that, yeah. Although that’s a bit too crude. We’ll have to think about exactly what might work, but I would guess something along the lines of alerting Sjöberg to the imminent arrival of two of Niko’s colleagues from SÄPO.”
“We don’t have SÄPO IDs.”
“True … I guess we’ll have to try to bluff our way through on that little matter.”
“Peachy! But, here’s an idea. It might just work if you’re the one to drive Niko’s car, Jase. And then, when we reach whatever checkpoint there may be at the prison, you act impatiently, flash Niko’s ID at them real fast, and drive on without waiting for a response.”
“As good a plan as any. Hey, wait … take a look at this Barb!” he beckoned, turning the screen for her to see. “There’s some back and forth messaging here between Niko and Pontus Sjöberg.”
“Couple of days old,” she observed, taking the phone in her own hand. “Looks like Niko and Pontus have been sharing information … oh, and here’s a useful tidbit … says here that your Lacey was … or still is … being held in the prison’s ‘X-Wing’ … that’s good to know … and, oh my God, Jase! … there’s a picture of her here … the bastards! … just look at her! … poor thing! … obviously they’d been torturing her when this was taken … and … and … this is unbelievable! … they’ve crucified her!”
“What? Let me see that …. Fuck! You’re right. Poor Lacey!”
“We need to get there before it’s too late. Anything more of interest in that text thread?”
“Yes, apparently the chap in the picture with Lacey is the South African, Jan Bakker. I’ve told you about him earlier. Nasty piece of work if there ever was one! And, of course, there’s a fair amount of to and fro in these texts about you and me. It would appear that our friend from SÄPO, lying here on the bed, was keeping Sjöberg fully informed of our location and activities.”
“Which means we’ve been on their radar from the very beginning. They’ve known all about us from the get-go. Is it possible, Jase, that this is the doing of a mole at MI6? Could anyone there know about us charging off to Lacey’s rescue and have reason to leak the information?”
“Hmmm … Lacey meant the world to Grace, Barb. They were colleagues and had been through some awful things together. And I know that Grace had attempted to apply a lot of pressure on my boss, Roger Moore, to mount a rescue operation. Made demands he had steadfastly refused. The UK government has made a deal with the Swedes, a deal that had to be honoured, no matter how distasteful. And Lacey was deemed accordingly expendable. So, when I suddenly took leave in order to attempt what we are doing now, it’s quite possible that someone in Roger’s circle … probably not Roger himself … although, come to think of it, if it came down to King and Country … even Roger … well, we don’t know really, do we? … suffice it to say that … somehow, someone surely must have tipped the Swedes off.”
“Shit! Then we really have no time to lose! What do we do about Niko here?”
“Leave him exactly where he is. Housekeeping will find him tomorrow afternoon when they come around. We’ll be in Frövi and will have probably either done or died trying by then.”
Barb made a hushing sound, and standing on the tips of her toes she kissed him longingly and lovingly before breaking off the kiss and saying, “I fully intend that we both get out of this alive Jase, and you do know that I never intend to let you go again.”
To Be Continued …
The Basement Cells, X-Wing, at Hinseburg Prison, Frövi, Sweden
Lacey woke with a hand clamped over her mouth. It was dark. The only light in the room came from a cell phone propped against the wall, which blinded her. As her eyes adjusted, her heart nearly leapt out of her chest when she saw a pair of thin, depraved looking eyes … just staring.
The pervert was back.
Even as her mind snapped into full wakefulness, he slapped a fresh strip of duct tape over her mouth.
Wait, it wasn’t the pervert, well not THE pervert. It was Hansom … Fuck!
“We don’t have much time,” he panted, clearly infused by lust as he knelt by Lacey’s side. She bucked and slammed her bound wrists against his chest. The force of it knocked him on his ass. She tried to get to her feet, but with her ankles also bound, she toppled back to the floor.
“Stupid bitch. You think you’re too good for me, now that the South African cunt has you all to himself, huh?”
Erik Hansom rolled the exhausted girl onto her back and grabbed his phone, raising the light so he could see her naked body.
“Fuck, you are still so pretty despite everything they’ve done to you. If I had my knife, I’d mark you so every man who fucked you would know I was the first to have you when you arrived here.”
Tears leaked out of the corner of her eyes. Her body trembled in revulsion. The expression in his eyes was filled with evil malevolence.
“The world is divided into two types of men,” Hansom said as he slid a grubby, dirty hand over her breasts, down her quivering stomach, and then between her thighs. “Men who ask, and men who take.”
On the last word, he shoved his fingers into her dry core. Lacey’s head kicked back at the pain, hitting the concrete so hard she saw stars. The monster jammed his fingers into her body unmercifully, completely immune to her cries and body’s rejection of the intrusion.
“Come on, get wet for me, slut,” he said and picked up the pace. “We don’t have time for you to fuck around.”
She cried out as his dirty fingernails jabbed into the wall of her vagina. Despite her throbbing head and the hopeless situation, she struck out with her bound hands and managed to claw his face. He screeched and dropped the phone, throwing the room into complete darkness.
“You fucking bitch, that’s evidence against me now!” The blow came out of nowhere. Her head collided with the floor, and everything went black.
Room 216, Scandic City Central Hotel Örebro
“There! That should do it,” observed Barb as she gave the knot binding Niko’s wrists together behind his back a final tug. The SÄPO agent winced. He lay naked on his side in the middle of the hotel room bed, eyes focused on Jase who covered the bound and gagged Finn with the man’s own gun.
“Yes, he’s not going anywhere soon,” agreed Jase.
“What’s next?” she said circling around the foot of the bed to join Jase at his side.
She was still naked, having not taken the time to put something on before throwing herself into the task of tying up the man she had just enticed into having sex with her. And Jase couldn’t help but track her as she rounded the bed, his gaze fixated on the gentle ripple of her thighs and slight sway and bob of her breasts.
They embraced silently, during which Jase allowed his hands to roam downward to clasp, lift and gently squeeze the twin cheeks of her bare ass. There they lingered until he managed to put lust aside. Releasing her, he replied, “Why don’t you go and get some clothes on first, and then we’ll see if we can access his cell phone.”
“Alright,” she murmured, making a bit of a pouty face. Moving quickly to her bag, still sitting on the floor near the door where Niko had left it, she extracted a pair of black bikini undies, a pair of tight blue jeans, and a long green cable-knit sweater … and proceeded to put them on.
Meanwhile, Jase had begun to examine Niko’s cell phone, making various fruitless attempts to open it.
“Let me see that!” she demanded after watching over his shoulder impatiently. “Okay, it’s obvious he’s not using Face ID.”
“I figured that much, otherwise I’d have forced him to look at the phone!” snapped Jase with a trace of irritation in his voice.
“And it’ll take you forever to guess the password, if that’s what you’re wasting time doing, so let’s assume it’s a thumbprint. Here, help me press the phone against his thumb!”
“How do you know it’s not his forefinger?”
“Imaginative intuition. Something we CIA agents have in abundance, as opposed to our more hidebound MI6 cousins.”
“Smart ass!”
Together they wrenched Niko’s hand around to a position in which his thumb could be pressed against his phone.
“Voilà! We’re in!” she exclaimed triumphantly.
“Let’s see what’s in here that could be useful,” mused Jase, snatching the phone from her. “Ahhh, here we go. A contact number and a special code for a Pontus Sjöberg.”
“Who is that?”
“Appears to be a high-ranking Swedish official whom Niko has apparently been in touch with lately. I’m thinking a cleverly worded text message to that number might open doors for us once we get to Frövi.”
“You mean something like … expect two individuals driving a black VolvoXC40 with Finnish plates to arrive circa some point in time and admit?”
“Something like that, yeah. Although that’s a bit too crude. We’ll have to think about exactly what might work, but I would guess something along the lines of alerting Sjöberg to the imminent arrival of two of Niko’s colleagues from SÄPO.”
“We don’t have SÄPO IDs.”
“True … I guess we’ll have to try to bluff our way through on that little matter.”
“Peachy! But, here’s an idea. It might just work if you’re the one to drive Niko’s car, Jase. And then, when we reach whatever checkpoint there may be at the prison, you act impatiently, flash Niko’s ID at them real fast, and drive on without waiting for a response.”
“As good a plan as any. Hey, wait … take a look at this Barb!” he beckoned, turning the screen for her to see. “There’s some back and forth messaging here between Niko and Pontus Sjöberg.”
“Couple of days old,” she observed, taking the phone in her own hand. “Looks like Niko and Pontus have been sharing information … oh, and here’s a useful tidbit … says here that your Lacey was … or still is … being held in the prison’s ‘X-Wing’ … that’s good to know … and, oh my God, Jase! … there’s a picture of her here … the bastards! … just look at her! … poor thing! … obviously they’d been torturing her when this was taken … and … and … this is unbelievable! … they’ve crucified her!”
“What? Let me see that …. Fuck! You’re right. Poor Lacey!”
“We need to get there before it’s too late. Anything more of interest in that text thread?”
“Yes, apparently the chap in the picture with Lacey is the South African, Jan Bakker. I’ve told you about him earlier. Nasty piece of work if there ever was one! And, of course, there’s a fair amount of to and fro in these texts about you and me. It would appear that our friend from SÄPO, lying here on the bed, was keeping Sjöberg fully informed of our location and activities.”
“Which means we’ve been on their radar from the very beginning. They’ve known all about us from the get-go. Is it possible, Jase, that this is the doing of a mole at MI6? Could anyone there know about us charging off to Lacey’s rescue and have reason to leak the information?”
“Hmmm … Lacey meant the world to Grace, Barb. They were colleagues and had been through some awful things together. And I know that Grace had attempted to apply a lot of pressure on my boss, Roger Moore, to mount a rescue operation. Made demands he had steadfastly refused. The UK government has made a deal with the Swedes, a deal that had to be honoured, no matter how distasteful. And Lacey was deemed accordingly expendable. So, when I suddenly took leave in order to attempt what we are doing now, it’s quite possible that someone in Roger’s circle … probably not Roger himself … although, come to think of it, if it came down to King and Country … even Roger … well, we don’t know really, do we? … suffice it to say that … somehow, someone surely must have tipped the Swedes off.”
“Shit! Then we really have no time to lose! What do we do about Niko here?”
“Leave him exactly where he is. Housekeeping will find him tomorrow afternoon when they come around. We’ll be in Frövi and will have probably either done or died trying by then.”
Barb made a hushing sound, and standing on the tips of her toes she kissed him longingly and lovingly before breaking off the kiss and saying, “I fully intend that we both get out of this alive Jase, and you do know that I never intend to let you go again.”
To Be Continued …
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Freedom Found (2)
The Basement Cells, X-Wing, at Hinseburg Prison, Frövi, Sweden
The room was dimly lit by meagre candle light? Agent Anderson felt dizzy. Her head was swimming, and it ached like never before. As Bakker entered the room his face was split with a huge grin when he let his gaze fall upon the naked bound girl, his very own captive doll … her arms stretched high, wrists secured tightly with thick rope to a large steel ring that was in turn fastened to a long wooden pillar.
It was not her own cell, but a different room, a fact that made absolutely no difference at all to Lacey’s desperate situation. All that could be heard was her heavy and laboured breathing through the large ball gag, tightly strapped around her head, as she offered up the bare minimum of futile struggles. Her eyes rolled upwards as if she was contemplating her position, a small nuance that made Bakker harder still.
Slowly he let his gaze descend the full length of her nude body. Drool oozed from her gagged mouth, dripping in a sticky flow onto her chest to run all the way down the centre of her torso.
“Mmmmm,” he allowed himself the luxury of a moan when he focused on the double-looped rope that had been passed around her slender waist and then up between her legs, savagely splitting her pussy lips. As he followed the taut length of cord, he smiled at the way it was threaded through a ceiling ring to fall vertically towards the ground, where it was connected to a large weighted ball, currently resteding on the hard floor.
“Imagine Agent Anderson if I make you take the full weight of this ball … oh how that will bite into your squashed little clit.”
Lacey whimpered and groaned, her gaze now staring directly out front at her assailant, as Bakker's eyes reached the delicate feminine ankles, also secured by thick rope to the column.
He let his fingers move slowly, enticingly over the rope until they reached their goal, cupping the nubile, beaten girl’s battered pussy. Taking a moment or two to enjoy the feel of her slit, he then moved his touch slowly upwards, over her stomach, massaging the saliva into her skin.
“Already so wet, little cunt …” And Lacey knew that was true. As much as she fought it, she was indeed juicing. He continued, “It looks like you’ve been standing here a little while,” he mocked, “… drooling on yourself … through your pretty, red ball gag.”
Lacey groaned and attempted to avert her eyes, but Bakker was in her face.
His hands groped and roamed over her scarred and abused breasts, “What a gorgeous fucking slut you are, look at these tits, so fucking fine … and that sweet, swollen pussy.”
As he said this the monster’s hand cupped Lacey’s mound once more and his index finger pressed hard against her clit, trapping the engorged little nub even harder under the tight rope splitting her labia.
“Look at that, those lips are cleaved right down the middle, such a nice, wet slippery cunt!”
Lacey groaned again, unable to release any sound that was intelligible. Bakker knelt before her, his fingers toying with her, making Lacey writhe and moan. “What a fucking pussy that is Agent Anderson, so full and so … confined. So fucking red and raw!”
He stood again and, reaching out to her face, cupped her cheek with his hand. “Do you reckon you could hang from your pussy for an hour or so, until I get back and I’m ready to use you some more, Huh?”
Lacey’s eyes widened., and she shook her head.
Bakker grinned and stood. Moving to the rope holding the weighted ball he began to adjust it.
Words to the effect of “No, no please don’t,” were the intention of the hapless captive, but they came like desperate moans and groans, which of course they were.
“You know what little slut, you can whimper all you like ... the bottom line is, I don’t care, because you’re here, you’re tied up and you belong to me so that I can do anything I want to you … Including torturing that pretty little battered cunt of yours.
As the rope knot came loose, Bakker pulled on the length and adjusted it so that the large weighted ball was now clear of the ground, it’s full weight pulling the rope savagely against Lacey’s abused clit, which forced the poor girl onto the tips of her toes and made her mewl louder than ever before!
“I’ll be back in an hour little cunt, because now I’ve got to go and deal with a situation and an issue that I have with that guard of yours, Erik Hansom!”
Barn Owl Cottage, Edge of the New Forest, Hampshire, UK
Issy, Jason’s eighteen-year-old daughter, let out a loud sniffle. “Where is dad I needed to talk to him, that’s why I made mum drop me over here.”
Issy stayed with Grace and Jason frequently. She was only six years younger than Grace and so their relationship had evolved into something akin to sisters, which Grace was very pleased about, because Issy could easily have easily become a thorn in the side of their relationship.
“I want to go on holiday with my friends, but Mother won’t let me. I wish I was dead.”
“Uh …” Fuck, this was the last thing Grace needed as she worried not just about her husband, Issy’s dad, but also the fact that he was on an assignment to save her friend and former colleague, partnered with ‘that damn woman’.
If Jase left her, she didn’t know what she would do … but the fact that he had an affair with Kat whilst he was still married to his first wife, and then moved quickly onto Grace after Kat’s untimely death, told the former Agent that he had something of a history on not being particularly loyal or faithful.
Yet she loved him so much. She desperately wanted him back safely from this mission but also back to her!
Grace looked to the skies for help as Issy slumped into a kitchen chair and carried on crying.
Oh Lord, this girl!
What the hell do I do? Normally if a girlfriend is crying, I promise her gin and chocolates, but that doesn’t somehow seem right here … Grace’s mind was flipping into overdrive.
“I’ll go and find some tissues?” She settled for this as a temporary option.
Minutes later Grace returned and sat on the chair next to her ‘step-daughter’.
“He’s away Issy, you know, like he is sometimes.”
Issy sniffed again and looked up.
“Will he let me go with my friends, do you think Grace?”
Well, here I am going out of my mind with worry about whether he will actually survive and then if he’ll ever come back to me, and you want to know if he’ll let you go on holiday. Oh, the worries of a teenager! But Issy was at least speaking rationally now, and that was what they called in the service ‘situational-progress’.
Those thoughts remained inside Grace’s head.
“So how about this Issy? Why don’t you ring your mum, tell her you’re okay, say you’re sorry for arguing with her and you can stay here with me for a couple of days. Then tomorrow we will go into Southampton shopping, my treat. How about that huh?“
“Do you really mean that?” Issy broke out into a smile.
“I wouldn’t have suggested it otherwise.”
A pause. “I think I’d like that, Grace.”
******
It was later that night, when Issy was going to bed and Grace was sitting on the couch staring at her phone, that the younger girl came into the lounge.
“Night Grace,” Issy smiled as she turned to head upstairs. “… and thank you. I erm, think I’d like to spend more time her with you and dad, if that’s okay Grace?”
Grace looked up. If she appeared distracted it’s because she was. “Oh, yes, sure, I’d like that too Issy. So, get a good night’s sleep because we’ve got a heavy day’s shopping tomorrow,” Grace smiled back.
Then, as young Miss Underwood headed to her bedroom, Grace’s thoughts returned to her husband.
“Will I ever even see you again, Jason,” were the sad words that she whispered quietly to herself.
To Be Continued …
The Basement Cells, X-Wing, at Hinseburg Prison, Frövi, Sweden
The room was dimly lit by meagre candle light? Agent Anderson felt dizzy. Her head was swimming, and it ached like never before. As Bakker entered the room his face was split with a huge grin when he let his gaze fall upon the naked bound girl, his very own captive doll … her arms stretched high, wrists secured tightly with thick rope to a large steel ring that was in turn fastened to a long wooden pillar.
It was not her own cell, but a different room, a fact that made absolutely no difference at all to Lacey’s desperate situation. All that could be heard was her heavy and laboured breathing through the large ball gag, tightly strapped around her head, as she offered up the bare minimum of futile struggles. Her eyes rolled upwards as if she was contemplating her position, a small nuance that made Bakker harder still.
Slowly he let his gaze descend the full length of her nude body. Drool oozed from her gagged mouth, dripping in a sticky flow onto her chest to run all the way down the centre of her torso.
“Mmmmm,” he allowed himself the luxury of a moan when he focused on the double-looped rope that had been passed around her slender waist and then up between her legs, savagely splitting her pussy lips. As he followed the taut length of cord, he smiled at the way it was threaded through a ceiling ring to fall vertically towards the ground, where it was connected to a large weighted ball, currently resteding on the hard floor.
“Imagine Agent Anderson if I make you take the full weight of this ball … oh how that will bite into your squashed little clit.”
Lacey whimpered and groaned, her gaze now staring directly out front at her assailant, as Bakker's eyes reached the delicate feminine ankles, also secured by thick rope to the column.
He let his fingers move slowly, enticingly over the rope until they reached their goal, cupping the nubile, beaten girl’s battered pussy. Taking a moment or two to enjoy the feel of her slit, he then moved his touch slowly upwards, over her stomach, massaging the saliva into her skin.
“Already so wet, little cunt …” And Lacey knew that was true. As much as she fought it, she was indeed juicing. He continued, “It looks like you’ve been standing here a little while,” he mocked, “… drooling on yourself … through your pretty, red ball gag.”
Lacey groaned and attempted to avert her eyes, but Bakker was in her face.
His hands groped and roamed over her scarred and abused breasts, “What a gorgeous fucking slut you are, look at these tits, so fucking fine … and that sweet, swollen pussy.”
As he said this the monster’s hand cupped Lacey’s mound once more and his index finger pressed hard against her clit, trapping the engorged little nub even harder under the tight rope splitting her labia.
“Look at that, those lips are cleaved right down the middle, such a nice, wet slippery cunt!”
Lacey groaned again, unable to release any sound that was intelligible. Bakker knelt before her, his fingers toying with her, making Lacey writhe and moan. “What a fucking pussy that is Agent Anderson, so full and so … confined. So fucking red and raw!”
He stood again and, reaching out to her face, cupped her cheek with his hand. “Do you reckon you could hang from your pussy for an hour or so, until I get back and I’m ready to use you some more, Huh?”
Lacey’s eyes widened., and she shook her head.
Bakker grinned and stood. Moving to the rope holding the weighted ball he began to adjust it.
Words to the effect of “No, no please don’t,” were the intention of the hapless captive, but they came like desperate moans and groans, which of course they were.
“You know what little slut, you can whimper all you like ... the bottom line is, I don’t care, because you’re here, you’re tied up and you belong to me so that I can do anything I want to you … Including torturing that pretty little battered cunt of yours.
As the rope knot came loose, Bakker pulled on the length and adjusted it so that the large weighted ball was now clear of the ground, it’s full weight pulling the rope savagely against Lacey’s abused clit, which forced the poor girl onto the tips of her toes and made her mewl louder than ever before!
“I’ll be back in an hour little cunt, because now I’ve got to go and deal with a situation and an issue that I have with that guard of yours, Erik Hansom!”
Barn Owl Cottage, Edge of the New Forest, Hampshire, UK
Issy, Jason’s eighteen-year-old daughter, let out a loud sniffle. “Where is dad I needed to talk to him, that’s why I made mum drop me over here.”
Issy stayed with Grace and Jason frequently. She was only six years younger than Grace and so their relationship had evolved into something akin to sisters, which Grace was very pleased about, because Issy could easily have easily become a thorn in the side of their relationship.
“I want to go on holiday with my friends, but Mother won’t let me. I wish I was dead.”
“Uh …” Fuck, this was the last thing Grace needed as she worried not just about her husband, Issy’s dad, but also the fact that he was on an assignment to save her friend and former colleague, partnered with ‘that damn woman’.
If Jase left her, she didn’t know what she would do … but the fact that he had an affair with Kat whilst he was still married to his first wife, and then moved quickly onto Grace after Kat’s untimely death, told the former Agent that he had something of a history on not being particularly loyal or faithful.
Yet she loved him so much. She desperately wanted him back safely from this mission but also back to her!
Grace looked to the skies for help as Issy slumped into a kitchen chair and carried on crying.
Oh Lord, this girl!
What the hell do I do? Normally if a girlfriend is crying, I promise her gin and chocolates, but that doesn’t somehow seem right here … Grace’s mind was flipping into overdrive.
“I’ll go and find some tissues?” She settled for this as a temporary option.
Minutes later Grace returned and sat on the chair next to her ‘step-daughter’.
“He’s away Issy, you know, like he is sometimes.”
Issy sniffed again and looked up.
“Will he let me go with my friends, do you think Grace?”
Well, here I am going out of my mind with worry about whether he will actually survive and then if he’ll ever come back to me, and you want to know if he’ll let you go on holiday. Oh, the worries of a teenager! But Issy was at least speaking rationally now, and that was what they called in the service ‘situational-progress’.
Those thoughts remained inside Grace’s head.
“So how about this Issy? Why don’t you ring your mum, tell her you’re okay, say you’re sorry for arguing with her and you can stay here with me for a couple of days. Then tomorrow we will go into Southampton shopping, my treat. How about that huh?“
“Do you really mean that?” Issy broke out into a smile.
“I wouldn’t have suggested it otherwise.”
A pause. “I think I’d like that, Grace.”
******
It was later that night, when Issy was going to bed and Grace was sitting on the couch staring at her phone, that the younger girl came into the lounge.
“Night Grace,” Issy smiled as she turned to head upstairs. “… and thank you. I erm, think I’d like to spend more time her with you and dad, if that’s okay Grace?”
Grace looked up. If she appeared distracted it’s because she was. “Oh, yes, sure, I’d like that too Issy. So, get a good night’s sleep because we’ve got a heavy day’s shopping tomorrow,” Grace smiled back.
Then, as young Miss Underwood headed to her bedroom, Grace’s thoughts returned to her husband.
“Will I ever even see you again, Jason,” were the sad words that she whispered quietly to herself.
To Be Continued …
Lace
Assistant executioner
My God!
There’s always a mole at MI6, I’m pretty certain Roger Moore went to Cambridge…
I think there’s also one on Barb’s tight little, can I check?
Dr no?
Sharkman
Governor
Mole! Thight little! What's in your mind? My old friend!
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Freedom Found (3)
Wooded area, half a kilometre west of Hinesburg Prison, Frövi, Sweden.
Jase left the main road and eased the VolvoXC40 onto a dirt track leading into a small wooded area. The track didn’t go far, ending abruptly after a couple of hundred meters. But parked at that sheltered location, Jase and Barb had a good view, across an open field, of the whitewashed, red-roofed prison complex buildings. The field had been freshly ploughed in anticipation of spring planting, adding an earthy quality to the smell of the air. The late-afternoon sun, already low in the west behind where they were situated, reflected brightly off the prison buildings.
“What now?” said Barb, breaking the silence.
“We sit tight and wait. Best to approach the gate as late as we can in the afternoon, with the sun at our backs. And with any luck … the guards might be looking to go off shift and head home to their families. We could benefit from a situation in which they might feel hurried.”
“Some good sense in that, I guess. By the way, I’ve been rethinking our plan of approach. I think it best that I be at the wheel rather than you.”
“Why?”
“Because, assuming the guards are male, I’m more likely than you to … um … distract them. And, besides, I speak Swedish and you don’t.”
“So we abandon our original plan of flashing Niko’s ID at them and hitting the accelerator?”
“Yeah, I think we should opt for a little finesse instead.”
“Perhaps, instead of jeans and a sweater, you should have worn a very short skirt and something revealing for a top?”
“I said finesse, not undress.”
“Very funny. But okay. Besides, given that we’ve texted ahead on Niko’s phone, they should be expecting us. Between the advance notice and your obvious feminine charms, it’ll be a piece of cake.”
“Uh-huh.”
“But now we’ve got at least an hour to kill, maybe more, before the sun gets down close to the horizon. We’ll just have to sit tight here in these woods until then. We’re well screened from the road. I don’t imagine anyone will notice or bother us here. Perhaps a little shut eye might be a good idea? We’re both sleep deprived given all that’s happened since we left Turku.”
I think I’ve a better idea,” breathed Barb, her voice taking on a somewhat husky tone as she both spoke and removed her sweater. She hadn’t bothered to wear a bra that day.
“What? Here and now?” gasped Jase.
But she was already reaching across the console to grasp at and stroke the growing bulge in his pants.
“As good a time and place as any.”
“Fuck! It never works in the front of a car, Barb! Not with the console and steering wheel in the way.”
“What? They didn’t have back seats where you grew up? Besides … hopefully not … but if things go bad inside that prison, this could be our last opportunity.”
“Right! Good point! Back seat it is then!”
With a knowing smile, Barb wriggled her way out of her panties before shifting her position, in a series of provocative movements, into the back of the vehicle.
Several minutes later, naked, flat on her back with legs spread wide and knees raised high, and having already worked herself up to a high level of lustful need even before Jase could get his pants off … she took hold with one hand and guided him all the way in with while grasping at the hair on the back of his head with the other.
“Now! Now! Now! Oh my gosh … fuck me deeper Jason … fast and hard!” she demanded of him.
“This bloody seat really wasn’t designed for this,” he hissed, attempting to meet her demand by doubling down on her at first … but then deliberately transitioning to a series of long even strokes.”
“Gahhhhhh!”
“Not yet!” he breathed in her ear. “Hang in there a little longer!”
“I can’t! Hurry, damn it!”
He pinned her wrists to the Volvo’s blond-leatherette seat just above her head and quickened the pace … once again rutting hard and fast.
“Now Jase! Now!” she urged, breaking her wrists free of his hold to reach for and dig her nails into his back as they climaxed together.
“Jase, I love you,” she breathed as he withdrew. “And I don’t give a damn about Grace! I’m not ever giving this up! I love you and want you … need you … and, if necessary, I’m ready to fight her for you!”
“Hushhhh, Barb. Not now. We’ve a job to do. We need to focus and can’t think about such things. It’s just not the time.”
“I know but we can’t avoid it forever, can we?”
“Let’s get dressed. It’s time to move.”
“Alright. But the issue of Grace or me is not going away.”
A quarter of an hour later with the sun setting low in the west, they approached the main prison gate with Barb at the wheel.
As she pulled up, a man, clad in the dark trousers and blue uniform shirt of the Swedish Prison and Probation Service (Kriminalvården), stepped out of the booth alongside the gate. He had a rather friendly looking countenance that gave Barb hope. His partner, a heavy-set grim-faced woman, thankfully, remained inside the booth.
Barb slowed to a stop and lowered the window.
“You must be the visiting agents from SÄPO,” he greeted. “We were alerted to the fact that you’d be arriving around this time. Welcome to Hinesburg. IDs please?”
Jase flashed Niko’s ID from the passenger side, making sure that he did so as quickly as he possibly could and with his thumb partially obscuring the face of it. Barb shrugged, smiled sweetly and said, “Sorry, mine’s stuck in my bag in the back seat. Give me a second to get out and get it.”
“No need,” he replied, his eyes moving from her face to the rest of her body. “As I said, we’ve been expecting you.”
“Been a long day, has it?”
“Sure has. Thankfully, in a few minutes from now Greta and I will be off duty and on our way home. You’ll want to go off now to your left once you’re inside the compound. X-Wing is where you’re going and it’s the last one on the left. You’ll find a couple of Mister Sjöberg’s people there. They’re expecting you. Look for them in the canteen at the far end of the ground floor corridor. You’ll no doubt find them drinking coffee and wolfing down Kanelbullar. My wife Greta here was up late baking last night. She makes the best Kanelbullar in all of Örebro County. Should still be plenty left. You’ll have to try some.”
“Sounds lovely but not too many. I have to watch my figure,” laughed Barb.
“I hardly doubt that,” he grinned wolfishly a moment before Greta emerged with her coat on with the intent of leading him swiftly away.
In the distance their replacements could be seen headed for the main gate. Not wanting to risk a second encounter at the gate, Barb hastily put the Volvo in gear and pulled away before they could arrive.
“Whew, I thought she was going to drag him off by the scruff of his neck. If I didn’t know better I’d think we we’d been transported into Kansas,” chortled Jase.
“And I’m the good witch of the West?” giggled Barb.
“I think the good one was from the South.”
“Oh, then I must be the wicked one.”
“You truly are.”
Moments later Barb eased the Volvo into a parking space near the X-Wing entrance and marked ‘visitors’.
“This is it then!” declared Jase, sucking in his breath, patting Niko’s gun beneath his jacket, and opening the Volvo’s door.
“Right. Now or never. Let’s do it.”
The Basement Cells, X-Wing, at Hinseburg Prison, Frövi, Sweden
“Hold him.” Bakker’s voice was a growl.
Anders Nordin, Chief Warder of X-Wing had exited the room. “Sorry Erik,” he muttered as he left his terrified guard in the hands of Bakker and several selected heavies from the wider Hinseburg prison.
“Please, I just wanted a final touch …” Hansom begged.
“She’s not yours to touch fokker!” Bakker wasn’t happy at all about the fact that the guard had made a late night visit to ‘his pussy’. The fleeting image of Lacey naked, bound, cunt lips split by that heavily weighted rope made the South African business man and thug, pause … but only momentarily. She would still be there when he was done here, exhausted, body almost split in two … he could hardly wait.
Hansom had been stripped to the waist and was now held by two of the heavies, one on either side. With a sadistic grin Bakker pulled back his fist and walloped him in the solar plexus. The captive guard heaved and doubled over as far as the holding arms would allow, but his leaning angle was enough for Bakker to upper cut his chin and send the guard’s head flying back … only for it to fall forwards.
“He’s out.” One of the heavies said.
“Fucking snowflake,” Bakker sneered, “… well, unconscious or not he’s all yours and I don’t want you to leave him able to walk or feel his bollocks. Understand me?”
The guys nodded, a gleeful grin already taking over their face.
Bakker was not happy. This was a distraction that he did not want and now he needed to go back to his accommodation and change as well as apply a plaster to the cut across his right knuckles from where he had slugged Hansom so hard.
“Fuck,” he bemoaned, but equally it meant Lacey had an extra hour or so to enjoy the company of that cunt-rope.
This unplanned commotion in X-Wing had side-tracked the entire management team, and so neither Nordin nor Sjöberg were aware of the small visiting party … two SÄPO Officers being escorted to the room in which Lacey Anderson was secured. They had ID, or so it seemed, along with orders directly from SÄPO, to meet with the prison management and agree a plan to make Agent Anderson finally ‘go away’.
Barb turned to Jase with a wry smile, and in a barely discernible whisper said, “We’re in!”
To Be Continued …
Wooded area, half a kilometre west of Hinesburg Prison, Frövi, Sweden.
Jase left the main road and eased the VolvoXC40 onto a dirt track leading into a small wooded area. The track didn’t go far, ending abruptly after a couple of hundred meters. But parked at that sheltered location, Jase and Barb had a good view, across an open field, of the whitewashed, red-roofed prison complex buildings. The field had been freshly ploughed in anticipation of spring planting, adding an earthy quality to the smell of the air. The late-afternoon sun, already low in the west behind where they were situated, reflected brightly off the prison buildings.
“What now?” said Barb, breaking the silence.
“We sit tight and wait. Best to approach the gate as late as we can in the afternoon, with the sun at our backs. And with any luck … the guards might be looking to go off shift and head home to their families. We could benefit from a situation in which they might feel hurried.”
“Some good sense in that, I guess. By the way, I’ve been rethinking our plan of approach. I think it best that I be at the wheel rather than you.”
“Why?”
“Because, assuming the guards are male, I’m more likely than you to … um … distract them. And, besides, I speak Swedish and you don’t.”
“So we abandon our original plan of flashing Niko’s ID at them and hitting the accelerator?”
“Yeah, I think we should opt for a little finesse instead.”
“Perhaps, instead of jeans and a sweater, you should have worn a very short skirt and something revealing for a top?”
“I said finesse, not undress.”
“Very funny. But okay. Besides, given that we’ve texted ahead on Niko’s phone, they should be expecting us. Between the advance notice and your obvious feminine charms, it’ll be a piece of cake.”
“Uh-huh.”
“But now we’ve got at least an hour to kill, maybe more, before the sun gets down close to the horizon. We’ll just have to sit tight here in these woods until then. We’re well screened from the road. I don’t imagine anyone will notice or bother us here. Perhaps a little shut eye might be a good idea? We’re both sleep deprived given all that’s happened since we left Turku.”
I think I’ve a better idea,” breathed Barb, her voice taking on a somewhat husky tone as she both spoke and removed her sweater. She hadn’t bothered to wear a bra that day.
“What? Here and now?” gasped Jase.
But she was already reaching across the console to grasp at and stroke the growing bulge in his pants.
“As good a time and place as any.”
“Fuck! It never works in the front of a car, Barb! Not with the console and steering wheel in the way.”
“What? They didn’t have back seats where you grew up? Besides … hopefully not … but if things go bad inside that prison, this could be our last opportunity.”
“Right! Good point! Back seat it is then!”
With a knowing smile, Barb wriggled her way out of her panties before shifting her position, in a series of provocative movements, into the back of the vehicle.
Several minutes later, naked, flat on her back with legs spread wide and knees raised high, and having already worked herself up to a high level of lustful need even before Jase could get his pants off … she took hold with one hand and guided him all the way in with while grasping at the hair on the back of his head with the other.
“Now! Now! Now! Oh my gosh … fuck me deeper Jason … fast and hard!” she demanded of him.
“This bloody seat really wasn’t designed for this,” he hissed, attempting to meet her demand by doubling down on her at first … but then deliberately transitioning to a series of long even strokes.”
“Gahhhhhh!”
“Not yet!” he breathed in her ear. “Hang in there a little longer!”
“I can’t! Hurry, damn it!”
He pinned her wrists to the Volvo’s blond-leatherette seat just above her head and quickened the pace … once again rutting hard and fast.
“Now Jase! Now!” she urged, breaking her wrists free of his hold to reach for and dig her nails into his back as they climaxed together.
“Jase, I love you,” she breathed as he withdrew. “And I don’t give a damn about Grace! I’m not ever giving this up! I love you and want you … need you … and, if necessary, I’m ready to fight her for you!”
“Hushhhh, Barb. Not now. We’ve a job to do. We need to focus and can’t think about such things. It’s just not the time.”
“I know but we can’t avoid it forever, can we?”
“Let’s get dressed. It’s time to move.”
“Alright. But the issue of Grace or me is not going away.”
A quarter of an hour later with the sun setting low in the west, they approached the main prison gate with Barb at the wheel.
As she pulled up, a man, clad in the dark trousers and blue uniform shirt of the Swedish Prison and Probation Service (Kriminalvården), stepped out of the booth alongside the gate. He had a rather friendly looking countenance that gave Barb hope. His partner, a heavy-set grim-faced woman, thankfully, remained inside the booth.
Barb slowed to a stop and lowered the window.
“You must be the visiting agents from SÄPO,” he greeted. “We were alerted to the fact that you’d be arriving around this time. Welcome to Hinesburg. IDs please?”
Jase flashed Niko’s ID from the passenger side, making sure that he did so as quickly as he possibly could and with his thumb partially obscuring the face of it. Barb shrugged, smiled sweetly and said, “Sorry, mine’s stuck in my bag in the back seat. Give me a second to get out and get it.”
“No need,” he replied, his eyes moving from her face to the rest of her body. “As I said, we’ve been expecting you.”
“Been a long day, has it?”
“Sure has. Thankfully, in a few minutes from now Greta and I will be off duty and on our way home. You’ll want to go off now to your left once you’re inside the compound. X-Wing is where you’re going and it’s the last one on the left. You’ll find a couple of Mister Sjöberg’s people there. They’re expecting you. Look for them in the canteen at the far end of the ground floor corridor. You’ll no doubt find them drinking coffee and wolfing down Kanelbullar. My wife Greta here was up late baking last night. She makes the best Kanelbullar in all of Örebro County. Should still be plenty left. You’ll have to try some.”
“Sounds lovely but not too many. I have to watch my figure,” laughed Barb.
“I hardly doubt that,” he grinned wolfishly a moment before Greta emerged with her coat on with the intent of leading him swiftly away.
In the distance their replacements could be seen headed for the main gate. Not wanting to risk a second encounter at the gate, Barb hastily put the Volvo in gear and pulled away before they could arrive.
“Whew, I thought she was going to drag him off by the scruff of his neck. If I didn’t know better I’d think we we’d been transported into Kansas,” chortled Jase.
“And I’m the good witch of the West?” giggled Barb.
“I think the good one was from the South.”
“Oh, then I must be the wicked one.”
“You truly are.”
Moments later Barb eased the Volvo into a parking space near the X-Wing entrance and marked ‘visitors’.
“This is it then!” declared Jase, sucking in his breath, patting Niko’s gun beneath his jacket, and opening the Volvo’s door.
“Right. Now or never. Let’s do it.”
The Basement Cells, X-Wing, at Hinseburg Prison, Frövi, Sweden
“Hold him.” Bakker’s voice was a growl.
Anders Nordin, Chief Warder of X-Wing had exited the room. “Sorry Erik,” he muttered as he left his terrified guard in the hands of Bakker and several selected heavies from the wider Hinseburg prison.
“Please, I just wanted a final touch …” Hansom begged.
“She’s not yours to touch fokker!” Bakker wasn’t happy at all about the fact that the guard had made a late night visit to ‘his pussy’. The fleeting image of Lacey naked, bound, cunt lips split by that heavily weighted rope made the South African business man and thug, pause … but only momentarily. She would still be there when he was done here, exhausted, body almost split in two … he could hardly wait.
Hansom had been stripped to the waist and was now held by two of the heavies, one on either side. With a sadistic grin Bakker pulled back his fist and walloped him in the solar plexus. The captive guard heaved and doubled over as far as the holding arms would allow, but his leaning angle was enough for Bakker to upper cut his chin and send the guard’s head flying back … only for it to fall forwards.
“He’s out.” One of the heavies said.
“Fucking snowflake,” Bakker sneered, “… well, unconscious or not he’s all yours and I don’t want you to leave him able to walk or feel his bollocks. Understand me?”
The guys nodded, a gleeful grin already taking over their face.
Bakker was not happy. This was a distraction that he did not want and now he needed to go back to his accommodation and change as well as apply a plaster to the cut across his right knuckles from where he had slugged Hansom so hard.
“Fuck,” he bemoaned, but equally it meant Lacey had an extra hour or so to enjoy the company of that cunt-rope.
This unplanned commotion in X-Wing had side-tracked the entire management team, and so neither Nordin nor Sjöberg were aware of the small visiting party … two SÄPO Officers being escorted to the room in which Lacey Anderson was secured. They had ID, or so it seemed, along with orders directly from SÄPO, to meet with the prison management and agree a plan to make Agent Anderson finally ‘go away’.
Barb turned to Jase with a wry smile, and in a barely discernible whisper said, “We’re in!”
To Be Continued …
Sharkman
Governor
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
I feel very honoured to have your excellent ditties adorning our tale. Thank you 99 ...
twonines
LIMERICUS
No, you are the one with the talent who is providing this exciting, erotic and entertaining reading, which so many of us appreciate.
Very nice back seat interlude, Barb’s insatiable! Lucky Jase seems well up for it! 
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Freedom Found (4)
The Office of Roger Moore, MI6 HQ, SIS Building, Vauxhall, London
There was a knock on the door of Roger Moore’s office but he was in no position to answer it because he had a very irate Foreign Secretary on the line.
“So, someone is over there interfering with Swedish Justice Roger and that someone is from your team!” The FS was almost shouting into the phone.
“Yes Sir, but I haven’t sanctioned any assignment, none whatsoever. I can’t say that I agreed with the way in which Agent Anderson was extradited, but as a professional I have to accept it and move on. And Sir, for me that was the end of the matter …”
As he said these words Moore knew exactly what was going on. Major Jason Underwood, his Senior E-Squad Officer, had taken three weeks leave of absence. “Private matters, Sir …” he had said as he filled in his forms, eyes downcast at the table.
But how the fuck did the FS know?
“So, what do we do, Mister Foreign Secretary?”
“You fucking well find out who it is, Roger, pull them out and then dismiss their sorry arse as quickly as you can. In fact, have them arrested! In the meantime, I will try and placate the Swedes and the South Africans … you know that King Charles is keeping a watching brief on this whole affair, Roger, he seems to value our relationship with Sweden very highly indeed.”
The call ended. There had been no more knocks on the door. Roger Moore knew the calls he had to make, and it wasn’t to anyone in Sweden.
Westquay Shopping Centre, Southampton, England
“You should go in there, get something that dad will like, for when he gets back.” Grace turned to look at where Issy was directing her comment, only to see that it was the Ann Summers store.
“Issy Underwood, you are so bad … that’s your father you’re speaking about!” Both girl’s collapsed laughing.
“He really does seem happy Grace,” Issy was being genuine, and the ‘holiday with friends’ premise for her visit seemed completely forgotten, at least for now.
“I hope so Issy.” Grace replied in a tone that was far more melancholy than she intended. Issy linked her arm through Grace’s and said, “Oh he is, I’m sure of it.” Then added, “… Come on let’s go find somewhere to have coffee and cake.”
The Office of Clark O’Shaughnessy, Head Agent, CIA HQ, Langley VA
“Hey Roger, how are you? It’s been a while … too long buddy, and we did really good last time out. How can I help you?”
“I know, it’s good to hear your voice Clark, but I must get straight down to business I’m afraid.”
“Shoot Roger, what’s the issue?”
“Is your Agent Barbara Moore on leave of absence?”
“Why yes she is, how do you …”
“Fuck Clark, we have a mole at Whitehall, not one of my team, but it gives us a real issue. Agent Moore is with my Officer, Major Underwood, in Sweden rescuing an extradited MI6 Agent, Agent Lacey Anderson.”
Moore was putting two and two together and very much coming up with the right answer.
“What the f …?”
“I know, I know, but listen please. I had my suspicions they were, and, to be honest I hope they succeed. My Agent has been made a scape goat for circumstances-past and, in my opinion, illegally extradited.”
“Shit. Okay Roger … how can I help?”
Roger Moore took a deep breath. “So … I cannot be seen to support their rogue operation, but you …”
“I get you Rog, of course. Tell me what to do.”
“Make sure they get out of Sweden alive; Moore, Underwood and Anderson. Anderson will be in poor health I suspect, if she’s even still alive, and so have her taken directly back to Washington on a med-plane, nursed and given a new ID etc. Anderson needs to become an American citizen and ‘get lost’ in the system.”
“Okay, I can do that Roger. Is that it?”
“No, no there’s one more thing. Major Underwood cannot come back here either. Make sure he returns to Washington and then, once he is with you, you and I will complete the paperwork to have him transferred to the CIA …
“So we get a free Agent?” O’Shaughnessy chuckled.
“I guess, “Roger said just before the call ended.
As he looked out of his office window over the Thames Roger Moore’s first thought was ‘Poor, poor Grace …’
The Basement Cells, X-Wing, at Hinseburg Prison, Frövi, Sweden
Barb and Jase were Ill-prepared for the scene they encountered when led to the cell where Agent Lacey Anderson was held.
Up to that point their arrival at Hinesburg had gone remarkably well. Neither of the on-duty personnel, whom they found in the canteen where the officer at the gate said they’d be, had shown even the slightest interest in confirming Barb’s or Jase’s identity as SÄPO agents. Rather, they had simply introduced themselves as Karl and Ragnar, explaining that they worked the night shift. Like the gatekeeper and his wife, they were a pair of locals. Eager to share Greta’s Kanelbullar with the new arrivals, engage in light-hearted camaraderie, and remark repeatedly how pleasant it was to receive important visitors from SÄPO headquarters in Stockholm.
And Barb and Jase had been in good spirits as their newfound hosts led them through the dimly-lit, cell-lined basement corridors of X-Wing, eventually arriving at one of the more remote areas at that level. As they were deposited outside Lacey’s cell, Ragnar obligingly suggested … pointing to an intercom box on the wall … that they let him and his colleague know when they had finished their visitation with the prisoner confined in that cell.
Things were indeed going so well that Barb had even cheerily declared … after Karl had unlocked the cell door and headed off with Ragnar in the direction from where they had come … presumably to finish off the rest of Greta’s Kanelbullar … “We’re in!”
So the sight of poor Lacey, as Jase eased aside the cell’s heavy door had taken their breath away. For, in the dim light of a single flickering candle, her naked figure could be seen hanging, arms stretched high, against a tall wooden pillar.
The candlelight captured the sheen of sweat that covered her body as well as the dribbles and drool splatter on her chest. She was generously covered everywhere with a myriad array of bloody marks and bruising inflicted by what must have been an incredibly cruel and sadistic torturer. Her eyes were closed, her breathing shallow. She appeared to be unconscious.
The cell was otherwise empty. There was no one else around.
But what caught their eye, even beyond the aforementioned signs of maltreatment, as they stepped further into the narrow confines of the cell, was the double-looped rope tied tightly around her waist and extended downward to both split and exert pressure on her pussy … pressure brought to bear through the sheer weight of a heavy ball attached to the other end of the rope, threaded up and through a ceiling ring.
“Oh my God!” cried Barb, eyes wide open and open hand half covering her mouth.
Jase was speechless.
“I’m calling those fucking bastards back here, right now!” snarled Barb.
Retreating back out into the corridor, she screamed at the two retreating figures who by then had nearly reached the far end of the corridor, “Karl! Ragnar! Get the fuck back here! Now!”
They returned as beckoned, looking rather mystified by the strident tone of the summons.
“What’s the problem?” said Karl.
“Take a look!”
Both men peered into the cell and blanched visibly at the horrendous sight.
“Th … th … this is not our doing,” stammered Karl, when invited to look into Lacey’s cell. “We had no idea. No idea at all. That’s … that’s got to be the … the … the handiwork of Chief Warder Nordin’s people … and of that South African guy who has been hanging around here the last few days.”
“Yes, we honestly had no idea!” affirmed Ragnar, his ruddy face turned white as a sheet. “You have to believe us!”
“This needs to be addressed immediately!” shouted Barb, her tone commanding. “When SÄPO and the government learn of this, heads here at Hinesburg are surely going to roll.”
“We had no idea,” repeated Karl once again. “We knew she … the British girl, I mean … was being held down here. Sjöberg had informed us that she was a special case that he and Nordin were working on. Ragnar and I figured it was some kind of ‘cloak and dagger’ spy stuff, hence the involvement of SÄPO. But no one deserves what they’ve obviously done to her … poor thing! As we’ve both said, we had no idea.”
“I believe you. But now we need your assistance. We need you to go get us some blankets, some towels, and some antiseptic too. In the meantime, my partner and I will get her down off that post, then you can help us get her into our vehicle parked outside. She’s obviously in terrible shape and before anything else happens she needs to be rushed to the nearest hospital!”
“Right,” agreed Karl, grabbing Ragnar by the sleeve and ushering him out into the corridor. She and Jase could hear them conversing excitedly as they scurried off to do Barb’s bidding.
Working feverishly Jase and Barb freed the unconscious special agent and eased her limp form down from the post to the floor, taking care to cushion her head on Jase’s rolled up jacket.
“Lacey! Can you hear me? It’s Jase! We’re here and we’re going to get you out!”
“She can’t hear you Jase!”
“I know, Barb. Look at what they’ve done to her! Poor girl! Those animals!”
“Yeah, but let’s focus. This isn’t over yet. We still need to get her out of here. The monsters who did this to her are sure to be back.”
“Right.”
“Wonder what’s keeping Karl and Ragnar?”
“I think they’re on their way. I hear footsteps out in the corridor.”
“Thank goodness!”
“Oh Shit!” gasped Barb as the half-closed cell door swung suddenly open to reveal not Karl and Ragnar but four grim-faced prison guards with guns drawn. And standing directly behind them … Chief Warder Anders Nordin, Governor Pontus Sjöberg, Jan Bakker …. and Niko Haapala!
Acting on professional instinct, Jase drew Niko’s gun from its shoulder holster and set himself into a ‘shooter’s crouch’ while Barb threw her body protectively over Lacey’s.
It was a classic standoff. The scene seemed frozen in place. No one made a further move.
Seconds ticked by in awkward silence until Pontus Sjöberg finally said, “I suggest you drop the weapon; you’re hopelessly outgunned here.”
To Be Continued …
The Office of Roger Moore, MI6 HQ, SIS Building, Vauxhall, London
There was a knock on the door of Roger Moore’s office but he was in no position to answer it because he had a very irate Foreign Secretary on the line.
“So, someone is over there interfering with Swedish Justice Roger and that someone is from your team!” The FS was almost shouting into the phone.
“Yes Sir, but I haven’t sanctioned any assignment, none whatsoever. I can’t say that I agreed with the way in which Agent Anderson was extradited, but as a professional I have to accept it and move on. And Sir, for me that was the end of the matter …”
As he said these words Moore knew exactly what was going on. Major Jason Underwood, his Senior E-Squad Officer, had taken three weeks leave of absence. “Private matters, Sir …” he had said as he filled in his forms, eyes downcast at the table.
But how the fuck did the FS know?
“So, what do we do, Mister Foreign Secretary?”
“You fucking well find out who it is, Roger, pull them out and then dismiss their sorry arse as quickly as you can. In fact, have them arrested! In the meantime, I will try and placate the Swedes and the South Africans … you know that King Charles is keeping a watching brief on this whole affair, Roger, he seems to value our relationship with Sweden very highly indeed.”
The call ended. There had been no more knocks on the door. Roger Moore knew the calls he had to make, and it wasn’t to anyone in Sweden.
Westquay Shopping Centre, Southampton, England
“You should go in there, get something that dad will like, for when he gets back.” Grace turned to look at where Issy was directing her comment, only to see that it was the Ann Summers store.
“Issy Underwood, you are so bad … that’s your father you’re speaking about!” Both girl’s collapsed laughing.
“He really does seem happy Grace,” Issy was being genuine, and the ‘holiday with friends’ premise for her visit seemed completely forgotten, at least for now.
“I hope so Issy.” Grace replied in a tone that was far more melancholy than she intended. Issy linked her arm through Grace’s and said, “Oh he is, I’m sure of it.” Then added, “… Come on let’s go find somewhere to have coffee and cake.”
The Office of Clark O’Shaughnessy, Head Agent, CIA HQ, Langley VA
“Hey Roger, how are you? It’s been a while … too long buddy, and we did really good last time out. How can I help you?”
“I know, it’s good to hear your voice Clark, but I must get straight down to business I’m afraid.”
“Shoot Roger, what’s the issue?”
“Is your Agent Barbara Moore on leave of absence?”
“Why yes she is, how do you …”
“Fuck Clark, we have a mole at Whitehall, not one of my team, but it gives us a real issue. Agent Moore is with my Officer, Major Underwood, in Sweden rescuing an extradited MI6 Agent, Agent Lacey Anderson.”
Moore was putting two and two together and very much coming up with the right answer.
“What the f …?”
“I know, I know, but listen please. I had my suspicions they were, and, to be honest I hope they succeed. My Agent has been made a scape goat for circumstances-past and, in my opinion, illegally extradited.”
“Shit. Okay Roger … how can I help?”
Roger Moore took a deep breath. “So … I cannot be seen to support their rogue operation, but you …”
“I get you Rog, of course. Tell me what to do.”
“Make sure they get out of Sweden alive; Moore, Underwood and Anderson. Anderson will be in poor health I suspect, if she’s even still alive, and so have her taken directly back to Washington on a med-plane, nursed and given a new ID etc. Anderson needs to become an American citizen and ‘get lost’ in the system.”
“Okay, I can do that Roger. Is that it?”
“No, no there’s one more thing. Major Underwood cannot come back here either. Make sure he returns to Washington and then, once he is with you, you and I will complete the paperwork to have him transferred to the CIA …
“So we get a free Agent?” O’Shaughnessy chuckled.
“I guess, “Roger said just before the call ended.
As he looked out of his office window over the Thames Roger Moore’s first thought was ‘Poor, poor Grace …’
The Basement Cells, X-Wing, at Hinseburg Prison, Frövi, Sweden
Barb and Jase were Ill-prepared for the scene they encountered when led to the cell where Agent Lacey Anderson was held.
Up to that point their arrival at Hinesburg had gone remarkably well. Neither of the on-duty personnel, whom they found in the canteen where the officer at the gate said they’d be, had shown even the slightest interest in confirming Barb’s or Jase’s identity as SÄPO agents. Rather, they had simply introduced themselves as Karl and Ragnar, explaining that they worked the night shift. Like the gatekeeper and his wife, they were a pair of locals. Eager to share Greta’s Kanelbullar with the new arrivals, engage in light-hearted camaraderie, and remark repeatedly how pleasant it was to receive important visitors from SÄPO headquarters in Stockholm.
And Barb and Jase had been in good spirits as their newfound hosts led them through the dimly-lit, cell-lined basement corridors of X-Wing, eventually arriving at one of the more remote areas at that level. As they were deposited outside Lacey’s cell, Ragnar obligingly suggested … pointing to an intercom box on the wall … that they let him and his colleague know when they had finished their visitation with the prisoner confined in that cell.
Things were indeed going so well that Barb had even cheerily declared … after Karl had unlocked the cell door and headed off with Ragnar in the direction from where they had come … presumably to finish off the rest of Greta’s Kanelbullar … “We’re in!”
So the sight of poor Lacey, as Jase eased aside the cell’s heavy door had taken their breath away. For, in the dim light of a single flickering candle, her naked figure could be seen hanging, arms stretched high, against a tall wooden pillar.
The candlelight captured the sheen of sweat that covered her body as well as the dribbles and drool splatter on her chest. She was generously covered everywhere with a myriad array of bloody marks and bruising inflicted by what must have been an incredibly cruel and sadistic torturer. Her eyes were closed, her breathing shallow. She appeared to be unconscious.
The cell was otherwise empty. There was no one else around.
But what caught their eye, even beyond the aforementioned signs of maltreatment, as they stepped further into the narrow confines of the cell, was the double-looped rope tied tightly around her waist and extended downward to both split and exert pressure on her pussy … pressure brought to bear through the sheer weight of a heavy ball attached to the other end of the rope, threaded up and through a ceiling ring.
“Oh my God!” cried Barb, eyes wide open and open hand half covering her mouth.
Jase was speechless.
“I’m calling those fucking bastards back here, right now!” snarled Barb.
Retreating back out into the corridor, she screamed at the two retreating figures who by then had nearly reached the far end of the corridor, “Karl! Ragnar! Get the fuck back here! Now!”
They returned as beckoned, looking rather mystified by the strident tone of the summons.
“What’s the problem?” said Karl.
“Take a look!”
Both men peered into the cell and blanched visibly at the horrendous sight.
“Th … th … this is not our doing,” stammered Karl, when invited to look into Lacey’s cell. “We had no idea. No idea at all. That’s … that’s got to be the … the … the handiwork of Chief Warder Nordin’s people … and of that South African guy who has been hanging around here the last few days.”
“Yes, we honestly had no idea!” affirmed Ragnar, his ruddy face turned white as a sheet. “You have to believe us!”
“This needs to be addressed immediately!” shouted Barb, her tone commanding. “When SÄPO and the government learn of this, heads here at Hinesburg are surely going to roll.”
“We had no idea,” repeated Karl once again. “We knew she … the British girl, I mean … was being held down here. Sjöberg had informed us that she was a special case that he and Nordin were working on. Ragnar and I figured it was some kind of ‘cloak and dagger’ spy stuff, hence the involvement of SÄPO. But no one deserves what they’ve obviously done to her … poor thing! As we’ve both said, we had no idea.”
“I believe you. But now we need your assistance. We need you to go get us some blankets, some towels, and some antiseptic too. In the meantime, my partner and I will get her down off that post, then you can help us get her into our vehicle parked outside. She’s obviously in terrible shape and before anything else happens she needs to be rushed to the nearest hospital!”
“Right,” agreed Karl, grabbing Ragnar by the sleeve and ushering him out into the corridor. She and Jase could hear them conversing excitedly as they scurried off to do Barb’s bidding.
Working feverishly Jase and Barb freed the unconscious special agent and eased her limp form down from the post to the floor, taking care to cushion her head on Jase’s rolled up jacket.
“Lacey! Can you hear me? It’s Jase! We’re here and we’re going to get you out!”
“She can’t hear you Jase!”
“I know, Barb. Look at what they’ve done to her! Poor girl! Those animals!”
“Yeah, but let’s focus. This isn’t over yet. We still need to get her out of here. The monsters who did this to her are sure to be back.”
“Right.”
“Wonder what’s keeping Karl and Ragnar?”
“I think they’re on their way. I hear footsteps out in the corridor.”
“Thank goodness!”
“Oh Shit!” gasped Barb as the half-closed cell door swung suddenly open to reveal not Karl and Ragnar but four grim-faced prison guards with guns drawn. And standing directly behind them … Chief Warder Anders Nordin, Governor Pontus Sjöberg, Jan Bakker …. and Niko Haapala!
Acting on professional instinct, Jase drew Niko’s gun from its shoulder holster and set himself into a ‘shooter’s crouch’ while Barb threw her body protectively over Lacey’s.
It was a classic standoff. The scene seemed frozen in place. No one made a further move.
Seconds ticked by in awkward silence until Pontus Sjöberg finally said, “I suggest you drop the weapon; you’re hopelessly outgunned here.”
To Be Continued …
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Freedom Found (5)
Roger Moore’s Office, SIS Building, MI6 HQ Vauxhall, London
There was an uncomfortable silence until Roger Moore broke it.
“Grace?”
Still silence.
“Are you there, Grace?”
Then the young, former MI6 Agent let out a piercing scream!
Roger took the phone away from his ear and put it onto speaker. He was in his sound proofed office, no one would hear.
“Fuck politics Roger, he’s with that fucking American cunt, isn’t he?”
Stung a little by her venomous response, Moore paused for a second or two, then added. “Like I said Grace, Jason cannot return to the UK because he would not just be dismissed he would be arrested … and so he will be assigned to the CIA and staying in Washington …”
Truth was, Moore reflected, that Jason and Barb weren’t even home and dry yet, and so there may not be a future to even discuss, but Roger trusted his US Colleagues to make sure that Major Underwood, Barbara and Lacey, whatever state she was in, were extracted from Hinseburg Prison and taken back to the USA and so he felt he owed Grace this call.
“Fuck you Roger. You fucked up my head and now you’ve fucked up my marriage and my life, I fucking hate you and everyone around you …”
The call ended. Grace ended it.
Moore felt empty.
He hoped she would be okay … fuck, sometimes he hated this job, and he especially hated it when it was a mole from the service who had leaked the details of Jason’s assignment in Sweden. Bastards. He knew who the source was, finding that much out was easy
Anders Nordin was the Head of the notorious X-Wing at Hinseburg. He knew that Nordin was in direct communication with the Director General of His Majesties Prison Service – which gave him a route through to the very top if required.
Jason’s Black Op being ‘outed’ was yet another damning aspect of this whole sorry business. The UK Government couldn’t freely admit to the extradition of Anderson by Sweden, and equally could not do anything to either support or stop Jason and Barb’s mission. So, opening up unofficial lines of communication between the UK’s justice system and Hinesburg’s X-Wing was the Government’s way of keeping control.
Nordin was responsible for whatever had happened to Lacey Anderson and also now, for destroying Grace Miller. Moore was seething as he turned his safe-phone screen blank.
The Office of Clark O’Shaughnessy, Head Agent, CIA HQ, Langley VA
“Rubicon …”
The line went silent and Clark O’Shaughnessy had a knowing grin on his face.
“You’re threatening me with that?” The part annoyed, part concerned response came from Anna Von Eissen, the female Head of the Swedish Security Service.
Rubicon is the codename for the CIA led pan-country arrangement that enables several other countries’ Cold War (and subsequent) ‘secrets’, to be stored securely away from their native soil. During the Cold War Sweden had supposed neutrality, but the CIA knew differently.
“Instruct those monsters at Hinesburg to release my Agent and Major Underwood, along with the poor girl your people have brutalised. How you handle South Africa after that is up to you Anna, but you will make sure Anderson, Moore and Underwood are allowed safely out, and then airlifted to Madrid, where I have made arrangements for them to be taken care of.”
“… or else, exactly what?” Von Eissen was clearly lost somewhere between anger, fear and confusion … just where O’Shaughnessy wanted her.
“Otherwise the true nature of your country’s ‘neutrality’ during the 1950’s and 60’s will be leaked …”
“You couldn’t … you wouldn’t …”
“Try me Anna …”
Silence.
Then …
“Knulla …” Von Eissen cursed, and then added, “… Okay Clark, consider it done.”
Karolinska University Hospital Trauma Centre, Stockholm, Sweden.
It had been a close-run thing, Jase thought to himself as he paced back and forth in the Karolinska Trauma Centre waiting area. He knew that behind those doors, Lacey’s life hung in the balance. She might well make it, but the grim look on the faces of the triage people when they took her off the chopper had not been encouraging.
He was concerned about Barbara too, who was being treated by a second trauma team. Her condition was certainly not life threatening, but she had suffered considerably at the hands of the South African, Bakker, and Governor Sjöberg’s Hinesburg Prison thugs, before rescue had unexpectedly and thankfully arrived.
The standoff in Lacey’s X-Wing prison cell had ended when he and Barb had seen the hopelessness of putting up any resistance. As Pontus Sjöberg had said, they were outgunned and a fire fight would have ended badly, so Jase had dropped Niko Haapala’s gun and slowly raised his arms in surrender.
What had happened next was swift and harsh. Nordin’s people had quickly seized Jase, cuffed his wrists behind his back, and forced him to sit on the concrete cell floor. There they proceeded to make him watch, with Lacey lying unconscious at his side, as they forcibly stripped Barb naked and bound her, arms over head, to the same heavy post to which Lacey had previously been bound and tortured.
Over the next hour or so they had taken turns punching her repeatedly in the gut with their fists and slapping her across her face and her breasts with open hands. When they had tired of that, Bakker had lowered his pants, and, pinning her against the post … brutally raped her.
To see that and to hear her scream and cry out so pitifully had brought back painful memories of Jase’s and Barb’s joint mission to Havana, and the rapes she had been forced to endure there in his presence. What he and Barb had been through together in Cuba, and in their period of convalescence afterward, had forged a special bond between them, one that was both professional but also sensual, a bond that he had to admit had tormented his subsequent marriage to Grace … a problem that might well have been solved if their captors had gone on to kill them both, but they hadn’t, and miraculously they had been rescued.
Their deliverance had come shortly after Bakker finished raping Barb and yielded to Niko, who had a clear intent to ravage her as well … citing revenge for the way in which she had duped him in the Scandic Hotel back in Örebro.
The rescue came just as Niko was leaning into her, thrusting with his pelvis to force entry while mauling Agent Moore’s breasts with both hands.
An ashen-faced Karl had appeared at the cell door with Ragnar standing behind them. In his hand, the prison guard had a cell phone, which he held out in the direction of Pontus Sjöberg and said softly, “It’s Anna Von Eissen, head of SÄPO, calling from Stockholm. She says she needs to speak to you immediately.”
Pontus had snatched the phone from Karl. Within less than a minute into the phone conversation his ruddy face had turned ashen and beads of sweat had broken out on the high dome of a forehead exposed by a receding hairline.
What followed his one-sided conversation with Von Essen was a torrent of commands, ordering his people to release Jase, get Barb down from the post, and fetch gurneys to transport Barb and Lacey to the prison’s helicopter pad where a medivac chopper would reportedly soon be landing.
And that was that.
What happened to Pontus and company, and to Bakker was unknown to Jase, but he could well imagine significant time behind bars. Jase hoped that Karl and Ragnar might receive a commendation.
But all thoughts of their ordeal were cast aside because a doctor had just emerged from the surgery where Lacey had been taken.
The tall Swedish medic stopped, blinked, located the Major and walked swiftly over to him. Before Jase could say a word, he introduced himself as Dr. Nils Gustafsson, broke into a smile and said that Lacey was going to pull through, although the convalescence would be a long and difficult one.
“And my other colleague?” His description of Barb as ‘his colleague’ disguised the true nature of Jason’s desperate feelings for this confoundingly lovely American CIA Agent, with whom he had fallen in love.
“She’ll be okay too, but will also require time to convalesce. I’ve received instructions to arrange to have all of you airlifted to Madrid and on to the States as soon as it’s safe to move Ms. Anderson. Possibly in two to three days, I would guess, but exactly when remains to be seen.”
Walter Reed National Military Medical Centre, Bethesda, Maryland, five days later.
Jase stretched his legs. He was sitting in Lacey’s hospital room beside her bed, watching over her as she slept. It was a vigil he intended to keep until she was completely ‘out of the woods’. Barbara had been released the day before, and somewhat to his surprise had reported back to Langley that morning.
In fact, he’d received a text from her several minutes earlier. It said she had met with her boss, O’Shaughnessy, and had learned that His Majesty’s Government and the Swedish Government had worked out their differences over Bakker and Lacey Anderson.
In light of what had happened, Bakker would be serving serious time and Lacey was a free woman. Governor Pontus Sjöberg had been censored and roundly disciplined, and Jase would be asked in the future by the Swedish government for testimony as to the actions of Anders Nordin and his people, which could possibly mean him returning to Sweden for that purpose. Niko Haapala had been summarily dismissed from the Swedish Security Service and was facing charges of attempted rape. MI6 was reported to be looking into the matter of an internal mole, who probably had compromised Jase and Barb’s dark mission to Hinesburg, although in truth Roger Moore found himself wondering just how tenacious that search would be.
Barb reported that Jason’s assignment to Langley for the foreseeable future had been confirmed, and so he would not be returning to the UK anytime soon. This was apparently arranged by O’Shaughnessy and Roger Moore directly, and was non-negotiable.
Jase was aware of the note of glee in the way she had added that piece of information as a “by the way” addendum to the rest of her report.
It may have been a joyous prospect for her, but a dilemma for him.
How was he going to handle telling Grace the news? How was he going to resist the attraction that he and Barb felt for one another? Should he even try? As he buried his head in his hands, he had no easy answers.
By his side Lacey slept on.
To Be Continued …
Roger Moore’s Office, SIS Building, MI6 HQ Vauxhall, London
There was an uncomfortable silence until Roger Moore broke it.
“Grace?”
Still silence.
“Are you there, Grace?”
Then the young, former MI6 Agent let out a piercing scream!
Roger took the phone away from his ear and put it onto speaker. He was in his sound proofed office, no one would hear.
“Fuck politics Roger, he’s with that fucking American cunt, isn’t he?”
Stung a little by her venomous response, Moore paused for a second or two, then added. “Like I said Grace, Jason cannot return to the UK because he would not just be dismissed he would be arrested … and so he will be assigned to the CIA and staying in Washington …”
Truth was, Moore reflected, that Jason and Barb weren’t even home and dry yet, and so there may not be a future to even discuss, but Roger trusted his US Colleagues to make sure that Major Underwood, Barbara and Lacey, whatever state she was in, were extracted from Hinseburg Prison and taken back to the USA and so he felt he owed Grace this call.
“Fuck you Roger. You fucked up my head and now you’ve fucked up my marriage and my life, I fucking hate you and everyone around you …”
The call ended. Grace ended it.
Moore felt empty.
He hoped she would be okay … fuck, sometimes he hated this job, and he especially hated it when it was a mole from the service who had leaked the details of Jason’s assignment in Sweden. Bastards. He knew who the source was, finding that much out was easy
Anders Nordin was the Head of the notorious X-Wing at Hinseburg. He knew that Nordin was in direct communication with the Director General of His Majesties Prison Service – which gave him a route through to the very top if required.
Jason’s Black Op being ‘outed’ was yet another damning aspect of this whole sorry business. The UK Government couldn’t freely admit to the extradition of Anderson by Sweden, and equally could not do anything to either support or stop Jason and Barb’s mission. So, opening up unofficial lines of communication between the UK’s justice system and Hinesburg’s X-Wing was the Government’s way of keeping control.
Nordin was responsible for whatever had happened to Lacey Anderson and also now, for destroying Grace Miller. Moore was seething as he turned his safe-phone screen blank.
The Office of Clark O’Shaughnessy, Head Agent, CIA HQ, Langley VA
“Rubicon …”
The line went silent and Clark O’Shaughnessy had a knowing grin on his face.
“You’re threatening me with that?” The part annoyed, part concerned response came from Anna Von Eissen, the female Head of the Swedish Security Service.
Rubicon is the codename for the CIA led pan-country arrangement that enables several other countries’ Cold War (and subsequent) ‘secrets’, to be stored securely away from their native soil. During the Cold War Sweden had supposed neutrality, but the CIA knew differently.
“Instruct those monsters at Hinesburg to release my Agent and Major Underwood, along with the poor girl your people have brutalised. How you handle South Africa after that is up to you Anna, but you will make sure Anderson, Moore and Underwood are allowed safely out, and then airlifted to Madrid, where I have made arrangements for them to be taken care of.”
“… or else, exactly what?” Von Eissen was clearly lost somewhere between anger, fear and confusion … just where O’Shaughnessy wanted her.
“Otherwise the true nature of your country’s ‘neutrality’ during the 1950’s and 60’s will be leaked …”
“You couldn’t … you wouldn’t …”
“Try me Anna …”
Silence.
Then …
“Knulla …” Von Eissen cursed, and then added, “… Okay Clark, consider it done.”
Karolinska University Hospital Trauma Centre, Stockholm, Sweden.
It had been a close-run thing, Jase thought to himself as he paced back and forth in the Karolinska Trauma Centre waiting area. He knew that behind those doors, Lacey’s life hung in the balance. She might well make it, but the grim look on the faces of the triage people when they took her off the chopper had not been encouraging.
He was concerned about Barbara too, who was being treated by a second trauma team. Her condition was certainly not life threatening, but she had suffered considerably at the hands of the South African, Bakker, and Governor Sjöberg’s Hinesburg Prison thugs, before rescue had unexpectedly and thankfully arrived.
The standoff in Lacey’s X-Wing prison cell had ended when he and Barb had seen the hopelessness of putting up any resistance. As Pontus Sjöberg had said, they were outgunned and a fire fight would have ended badly, so Jase had dropped Niko Haapala’s gun and slowly raised his arms in surrender.
What had happened next was swift and harsh. Nordin’s people had quickly seized Jase, cuffed his wrists behind his back, and forced him to sit on the concrete cell floor. There they proceeded to make him watch, with Lacey lying unconscious at his side, as they forcibly stripped Barb naked and bound her, arms over head, to the same heavy post to which Lacey had previously been bound and tortured.
Over the next hour or so they had taken turns punching her repeatedly in the gut with their fists and slapping her across her face and her breasts with open hands. When they had tired of that, Bakker had lowered his pants, and, pinning her against the post … brutally raped her.
To see that and to hear her scream and cry out so pitifully had brought back painful memories of Jase’s and Barb’s joint mission to Havana, and the rapes she had been forced to endure there in his presence. What he and Barb had been through together in Cuba, and in their period of convalescence afterward, had forged a special bond between them, one that was both professional but also sensual, a bond that he had to admit had tormented his subsequent marriage to Grace … a problem that might well have been solved if their captors had gone on to kill them both, but they hadn’t, and miraculously they had been rescued.
Their deliverance had come shortly after Bakker finished raping Barb and yielded to Niko, who had a clear intent to ravage her as well … citing revenge for the way in which she had duped him in the Scandic Hotel back in Örebro.
The rescue came just as Niko was leaning into her, thrusting with his pelvis to force entry while mauling Agent Moore’s breasts with both hands.
An ashen-faced Karl had appeared at the cell door with Ragnar standing behind them. In his hand, the prison guard had a cell phone, which he held out in the direction of Pontus Sjöberg and said softly, “It’s Anna Von Eissen, head of SÄPO, calling from Stockholm. She says she needs to speak to you immediately.”
Pontus had snatched the phone from Karl. Within less than a minute into the phone conversation his ruddy face had turned ashen and beads of sweat had broken out on the high dome of a forehead exposed by a receding hairline.
What followed his one-sided conversation with Von Essen was a torrent of commands, ordering his people to release Jase, get Barb down from the post, and fetch gurneys to transport Barb and Lacey to the prison’s helicopter pad where a medivac chopper would reportedly soon be landing.
And that was that.
What happened to Pontus and company, and to Bakker was unknown to Jase, but he could well imagine significant time behind bars. Jase hoped that Karl and Ragnar might receive a commendation.
But all thoughts of their ordeal were cast aside because a doctor had just emerged from the surgery where Lacey had been taken.
The tall Swedish medic stopped, blinked, located the Major and walked swiftly over to him. Before Jase could say a word, he introduced himself as Dr. Nils Gustafsson, broke into a smile and said that Lacey was going to pull through, although the convalescence would be a long and difficult one.
“And my other colleague?” His description of Barb as ‘his colleague’ disguised the true nature of Jason’s desperate feelings for this confoundingly lovely American CIA Agent, with whom he had fallen in love.
“She’ll be okay too, but will also require time to convalesce. I’ve received instructions to arrange to have all of you airlifted to Madrid and on to the States as soon as it’s safe to move Ms. Anderson. Possibly in two to three days, I would guess, but exactly when remains to be seen.”
Walter Reed National Military Medical Centre, Bethesda, Maryland, five days later.
Jase stretched his legs. He was sitting in Lacey’s hospital room beside her bed, watching over her as she slept. It was a vigil he intended to keep until she was completely ‘out of the woods’. Barbara had been released the day before, and somewhat to his surprise had reported back to Langley that morning.
In fact, he’d received a text from her several minutes earlier. It said she had met with her boss, O’Shaughnessy, and had learned that His Majesty’s Government and the Swedish Government had worked out their differences over Bakker and Lacey Anderson.
In light of what had happened, Bakker would be serving serious time and Lacey was a free woman. Governor Pontus Sjöberg had been censored and roundly disciplined, and Jase would be asked in the future by the Swedish government for testimony as to the actions of Anders Nordin and his people, which could possibly mean him returning to Sweden for that purpose. Niko Haapala had been summarily dismissed from the Swedish Security Service and was facing charges of attempted rape. MI6 was reported to be looking into the matter of an internal mole, who probably had compromised Jase and Barb’s dark mission to Hinesburg, although in truth Roger Moore found himself wondering just how tenacious that search would be.
Barb reported that Jason’s assignment to Langley for the foreseeable future had been confirmed, and so he would not be returning to the UK anytime soon. This was apparently arranged by O’Shaughnessy and Roger Moore directly, and was non-negotiable.
Jase was aware of the note of glee in the way she had added that piece of information as a “by the way” addendum to the rest of her report.
It may have been a joyous prospect for her, but a dilemma for him.
How was he going to handle telling Grace the news? How was he going to resist the attraction that he and Barb felt for one another? Should he even try? As he buried his head in his hands, he had no easy answers.
By his side Lacey slept on.
To Be Continued …
Mmmm … I foresee much Moore sex and derring-do for these two Langley spooks in the future … Sexpionage’s new “dream team”.
Great episode. Love the pics!
twonines
LIMERICUS
How long will it take Jase to work out that the Moore tight little needs firm and regular discipline?Mmmm … I foresee much Moore sex and derring-do for these two Langley spooks in the future … Sexpionage’s new “dream team”.
Great episode. Love the pics!