97D: Spy versus Spy, by Gark

Part 1 in the 97D saga

[Setting: England, January 1944, somewhere northeast of London on the road to Billingford.]

I awoke abruptly, doused by a glass of water splashing over me. I shook my head back and forth, trying to regain my senses. As my eyes cleared, I saw a tall, buxom woman standing over me, gesturing with a short whip in a threatening manner. I couldn’t discern much about her as a black leather mask covered the upper half of her face. All I could make out was a large, cruel-shaped mouth with luscious scarlet lips, bright blue eyes and thick blond hair, which was braided into two long pigtails reaching halfway to her waist. She was wearing dark slacks and a simple white blouse. Her legs were long, probably quite muscular I decided, as I watched her move confidently, circling about me. Somehow she seemed familiar, but I couldn’t quite place her.

“Achtung Amerikaner!!” she shouted suddenly, shaking me from my stupor. I was still groggy, but started to recall what had happened. I’d been returning to Thorpe Abbotts from London to rejoin my unit, the 100^th Bomb Group, when my car had been forced off the road. Two burly men promptly grabbed me and knocked me out with chloroform. That explained my current inability to focus.

“Gut, gut!!” she continued threateningly, noting my growing awareness. “In a short time you will be responsive enough to begin the interrogation. Do not worry, though. Soon you will willingly disclose all of the secrets of the Norden bombsite to me. But where are my manners? I shall give you a few more minutes to regain your senses and then we will begin.”

It was then that I noticed that I was seated on a sturdy chair, bound hand and foot. I struggled against my bonds but they held fast.

“Do not bother, Amerikaner,” the woman sneered. “You will not get loose, unless I choose to make it so.”

Then she snapped her whip across my bare chest sharply, the sudden pain immediately raising my level of consciousness. I was naked, except for my underwear. At least I had some small measure of modesty, consoling myself that if I still had my undies, perhaps she wouldn’t whip me directly on my manhood.

She turned her attention to the other side of the room, where the two burly men relaxed on the couch. “Max! Bruno!” she commanded. “You are dismissed. Return to London and continue with phase two of tonight’s plan. I’ll continue the interrogation alone. You can return for us at daybreak.”

The two men replied “Da!” simultaneously, smiling wickedly at me as they left. The door opened briefly before they closed it behind themselves, allowing me to see a heavily wooded area beyond, no doubt far from any main thoroughfare. The woman walked over to the door, and securely bolted it, the implication being that I was helpless with no hope of escape.

And, maybe that was the case. Perhaps my plan had worked too well, I contemplated, realizing what her plans for me must be. I had no doubt that the woman was the infamous and mysterious Agent 97D, the German spy I had been sent from Washington to eliminate. My job as an OSS counterespionage agent was to seek her out and neutralize her spy ring before it did further damage to the Allied war effort. She was already credited with pilfering some of England’s most prized secrets - radar, jet propulsion, Atlantic naval deployments and African troop deployments, to name but a few.

England’s MI5 seemed helpless to stop her, losing their top counter-spy in the process. His body had been found floating face down in the Thames a few days after he went missing. The only mark on his nearly nude body (underwear only) was a strange pattern around the neck, seemingly small flowers, where he had been garroted. The assumption was that there was an active mole within MI5. That was why the OSS had deployed me to Thorpe Abbotts without the knowledge of MI5. I was on my own with no hope of aid!

But the one death was an anomaly for 97D. Other than that one case with the MI5 counterspy, her modus operandi, though an odd one, had not included killing her prey. Apparently she had a few scruples, though I was unaware of any others. However, Agent 97D apparently enjoyed ‘toying’ with her victims, male or female, challenging them to wrestle her for their freedom, before drugging them with truth serum and relieving them of their most vital secrets. But she always released her captives once the damaging results of their disclosures had been concluded. Typically, the victims were dumped, bound and tied, along the side of some isolated country road, relatively unharmed some weeks later. But the implication to her victims was clear… if they went back to work supporting the war effort, they would be killed outright. Thus, all of her victims had refused further government assignments, fearing for the lives of themselves and their loved ones. Agent 97D was formidable, indeed.

I had tried for months to track her down, but no one I’d encountered knew anything. She’d always worn a mask, so no one had seen her face. The only information I’d been able to glean was that she was about 5'10" tall with blue eyes and a dynamite figure. Her English accent was perfect when she wanted it to be, regressing partially to German when aggravated. I’d discounted the accounts of her having long blond hair, as it was probably a wig. All in all, there was not much to go on.

My cover was a technical specialist for the 100^th Bomber Group stationed in Thorpe Abbotts. I’d been chosen for my fighting ability, particularly my wrestling skills. The plan was to allow myself to be captured, act helpless, waiting for her to challenge me to a wrestling match. Then I was supposed to defeat her, capturing her in the process and breaking her spy ring.

I had pretended to be a meek, mild mannered science-type who liked to occasionally tip a few brews. While drinking myself into a seeming stupor at a local pub in nearby Billingford, I’d let it slip a few times that I was stationed there because I was an expert with the Norden bombsite. A few days ago, I had been on leave in London, pretending to do research in one of the few undamaged libraries. I had paid attention, hoping to spot any tails, but I’d seen no one following me. Other than the helpful (beautiful leggy brunette) librarian, no one had paid me any mind. Thus, I was not on my guard when the large sedan came up suddenly from behind, forcing me off the road. I should have been pleased that the operation had gone off without a hitch, the simplicity of my capture probably putting her at ease. But, I was unhappy about how I’d been so easily caught unawares.

My mind returned to the present situation and I took an account of my surroundings. I appeared to be in a one-room rustic cottage in the middle of nowhere. There was a small bed, couch and several chairs in the main living area with a large potbellied stove for heat. The kitchen was off to the side with only rudimentary amenities. The sanitary facilities must have been outside. As 97D approached me once again, I happened to notice a brown wig lying on the kitchen table. So, the blond pigtails were probably real.

“Do not worry,” she said soothingly, in a major change from earlier. “Max and Bruno are gone and we are quite alone - just you and me… and my whip.”

She motioned with the whip once more, but refrained from striking me this time. Maybe this was a good cop / bad cop routine… now being somewhat friendly. “If you cooperate, you will be freed relatively unharmed in a few days. However, if you do not… well I’m sure you can imagine.”

Even though her speech had been meant to be reassuring, I knew my life was forfeit once she injected me with truth serum and discovered my true identity. I had to play along and hope that she followed her pattern and challenged me to wrestle her.

“I’m a loyal American. You’ll get nothing from me,” I replied defiantly.

“Such bravado. You Amerikaners can be so stupid. I will have your secrets whether you cooperate or not. The only difference will be the amount that you suffer,” she challenged. “Still, your defiance piques my interest…” she continued as she circled the chair, inspecting my nearly naked form as she went. “You seem to be quite fit, physically. Perhaps you might be interested in a sporting contest between us.”

“Somehow, I doubt it will be very sporting,” I replied cautiously. “But I’m hardly in a position to refuse.”

“Gut. Gut,” she purred, her face literally glowing in devilish delight. “How do you feel about having a wrestling contest? If you win, you may go free immediately, unharmed and without being interrogated.”

“And should you win?” I asked.

“You’ll suffer the same fate - drugged, interrogated, followed by release after a few days.”

I pretended to give it some consideration before replying, “OK, I’ll wrestle you. But I doubt you’ve left little to chance here and my odds are actually quite slim.”

As she grinned wickedly, I could see that I had made her day. “You are correct to be skeptical. Unlike you weak Amerikaners, German girls are trained in the fighting arts, especially wrestling, from a young age. I have never been defeated… by female or male…” she boasted.

“There’s always a first time,” I chided.

“Gut. Gut. I like this. You are spirited after all. The contest may yet prove challenging.”

97D tossed her whip onto the couch and then began to take off her clothes as she stood in front of me. She slowly unbuttoned her blouse, revealing a scarlet red brassiere with huge cups. Then she slipped off her slacks and tossed them & blouse out of the way to the side. Her panties were a light shade of pink. My eyes were fixated on her enormous chest, imagining the fine breasts contained within that huge brassiere. She knew I was captivated by her assets, but didn’t shy away, instead moving closer so that I could have a better look.

“I see that you like large breasts. Would you like to see them naked? Defeat me, and they can be yours to do with as you please,” she taunted. “By the way, do you know why my codename is 97D?”

That had been a mystery at both MI5 and OSS, but I kept my cool. “Is that your designation…? I really have no idea.”

She approached me even closer, spreading her legs wide, straddling me and sitting on my lap pressing her womanhood firmly against my manhood. My rod responded instantly and was soon throbbing against her in return. I had not expected this turn of events… being aroused by the enemy. Then she pressed her cleavage against my face, suffocating me briefly. When she finally allowed me to breathe once more, my eyes caught sight of the unusual design on her brassiere just inches from my face. Little flowers were embroidered onto the strap between the two cups of her brassiere. The flower design appeared to be woven around a thin, but strong, ropelike material. Understanding dawned as I realized the true fate of the MI5 agent. The bra was actually a kind of garrote, and when the need arose, 97D used it to throttle her foes. At least the MI5 agent had not died in vain… unintentionally revealing in death a secret that might be the answer to my survival.

“Are you sure you don’t know the meaning of 97D?” she asked again.

To my dismay, I was still captivated by her cleavage and the proximity of our private parts. But, I was still puzzled as to the meaning of ‘97D’. Her twin blond braids swung loosely at her back, and I realized that 97D’s hair was done this way to accommodate her wrestling habit. So, the long blond hair was definitely real!

“You Amerikaners are pitifully stupid. Think Metric!!”

She swung her breasts slowly in front of my face. I understood immediately, doing some quick math. “I see, 38D… the size of your brassiere.”

“Very good! And good in mathematics, too. That must help in your work on the Norden bombsite.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” I lied. And, I thanked my lucky stars that I was indeed good in math. This had been a test… and I had passed.

“Yes, yes, of course. But together, we shall see whether it is the truth.” 97D stood back up, sauntered away for a moment, probably so that I could get a good look at her rump. And, it was a fine rump indeed. Nicely rounded, protruding nicely behind, and just the right size - not too large, and not too small. She must have been 38D-24-36!! Jeez… I’d better snap out of this trance soon, or I’d end up with the same fate as the MI5 agent.

97D turned around and gazed intensely at me, and the bulge in my undershorts. She was definitely freaked out on this wrestling thing, possibly a sexual high of some sort. I’d have to do my best to defeat her, or I was doomed. I tried to snap out of my trance as she stepped behind the chair and untied my legs and arms.

I stood up and stretched, trying to restore some life to my atrophied limbs. I saw 97D watching as I did, so I continued the stretching show a little longer than necessary, hoping to distract her in the same way she had distracted me.

“It seems you are quite stiff,” she said with a smile, staring straight at my still rock-hard manhood.

“Yes, more so than I’d imagined,” I replied staring directly at her cleavage, arching my back some more as I did, doing my best to display my bulging manhood. “But I think I’m ready to begin now. Are there any rules I should be aware of?”

“No not really. Just remember this is a wrestling match, and everything will be fine. However… there is one rule, and you must obey it. ‘Do NOT attempt to remove my mask!!’ If you do, I will have to kill you.”

“OK, I’ll keep that in mind.” I replied. She was still staring at the bulge in my undershorts. I confess being surprised at my arousal, as I was about to fight this beautiful woman, quite possibly to my own death. Then I noticed a particularly pungent female scent wafting my way in the short distance that separated us. 97D was in heat the same as me. I was confused about what was to come - fighting, lovemaking or death?

“We fight until submission… when one of us confesses the other to be their superior. Let’s start!”

And with that, we slowly began to circle each other on the rug in the main living area. She moved slowly and smoothly, eyeing me like a predator would its prey. “You know, unlike our Amerikaner counterparts, we German women enjoy a good fight,” she threatened, grinning widely as she tried to intimidate me.

I sniffed the air noticeably, saying in turn, “Yes, I can tell that you do.”

“Amerikaner schwein,” she snarled, staring at my bulging crotch. “I can see that you do, too. It seems the match will be even in this respect.”

With that, she lunged at me, using little guile, expecting minimal ability on my part. I quickly sidestepped her move, grabbed one of those long legs and forced her to the floor facedown. I landed on top of her back with a thud, knocking the air from her lungs and quickly secured my position on top by twisting her right arm behind her back. She hadn’t expected much of a fight from me, and had only been thinking of subduing / humiliating me. In turn, I was fighting for my life, which she hadn’t yet realized.

97D lay there quietly beneath me for a time recovering her wind. I took the opportunity to secure her other arm behind her back, too. I twisted hard and she grimaced in pain. After a few more moments, she began struggling hard, attempting to get free. But I was having none of that as I cruelly twisted her arms back, bringing a loud gasp of pain from 97D. My sexual arousal became total as I struggled to hold her there - very strange indeed!

“You fight too well!” she gasped. “I realize now your true identity… Amerikaner spion. Your fate is sealed now… you will die just like your British counterpart.”

“From where I’m sitting, that doesn’t appear to be the case,” I replied hotly. I cruelly twisted her arms again, bringing another loud gasp from her lips. If anything, her pungent female scent had become even heavier now.

Suddenly, she bucked her back upwards and rolled, freeing herself from my clutches. We rose to our feet to face each other again. “Perhaps this was meant to be,” she stated matter of factly. “Spion gegen spion. Soon you will be dead!”

I knew enough German to understand what she had said - spy versus spy! “Don’t count on it sister!” I replied hotly.

It was at that point that I saw her notice the whip on the couch. Earlier she had thought she wouldn’t need it. Now she raced me to the couch and control of the whip. Her hand closed on its grip first, but I had a good grip on her wrists as we struggled for control of the one weapon in the cottage. Our legs intertwined as the struggle brought us into full frontal contact. Her warm, curvaceous body felt very inviting as we struggled face to face. But I dared not lose my focus as she meant to cause my death. I, on the other hand, wanted to take her alive. I wasn’t sure if that would be possible. We appeared to be locked in a struggle to the death.

Her red-laced breasts pummeled against my chest as she ineffectually tried to knee me in the groin. The angle was all wrong, but at least I was now aware of her intent, as I rolled free of her for the moment.

97D came to her feet fast, flailing the whip wildly in my direction. I assumed she’d had some practice with it, and kept my distance as best I could. She carefully herded me into a corner and then struck. The whip raked across my chest viciously, leaving heavy red marks, but thankfully drawing no blood.

As she continued to pummel me, I finally got a good grip on the tail of the whip. I yanked hard in turn, throwing her across the room, tripping her to the floor as she crashed over the chair upon which I’d been tied earlier. The whip came free of her hand and I quickly grabbed it and threw it into the potbellied stove.

97D rose to face me, saying, “Too bad! That was my favorite whip! I will have to punish you destroying it. But now it appears we are both weaponless. You’ll pay for your insolence!” she sneered, moving again to the attack.

“How sad for you, 87B,” I taunted. “That designation would be much more appropriate, you know.”

97D’s eyes glowed with hatred. Apparently she couldn’t handle any derogatory remarks about her body. She screamed loudly and rushed at me, tackling me to the floor before I could prepare. We rolled around, snarling at each other like wildcats in heat. The fight was both sensual and vicious, as we struggled to subdue, or possibly kill the other. Then 97D managed a fairly effective kick to my groin, and I went weak momentarily. She quickly rolled me over facedown onto my stomach and mounted me, straddling me at the waist. I heard the sound of her brassiere unclipping and realized that my life was in imminent danger. Fortunately, she’d had to let go of my arms in order to unsnap and remove the brassiere. That gave me enough time to get my hand over my Adam’s apple scant moments before the brassiere / garrote (b/g) made contact. She had a good grip as she tried to work the b/g away from my hand and directly onto my throat. I rolled to the side, but she stayed with me, continuing to try to work the b/g under my hand. Then she encircled her legs around my waist from behind, and I was caught doubly. But at least there was hope, as I wasn’t yet being strangled. I rolled and thrashed around futilely, mostly just keeping her busy until I could devise some sort of strategy.

Apparently, my efforts had proven very frustrating to 97D as she released her grip on one end of the b/g and tried to remove the hand that was protecting my throat. At the moment, 97D was on her back and I was caught in her powerful leg scissors upon my waist, facing away from her. But now, with the threat of immediate strangulation removed, I could plot some sort of escape. I spun my body 180 degrees within her leg scissors and now faced her from above. Sure, she still had those powerful legs squeezing me, but there was no immediate danger from the b/g, and I was above her with my hands free.

Her huge naked breasts were like two large melons below me. Her nipples were bright pink with large aureoles and hard erect… obvious targets. I grabbed one huge orb in each hand and squeezed hard. It wasn’t a sporting move, but a brassiere / garrote was hardly sporting either. She screamed loudly, releasing the b/g. I grabbed it quickly and flung it towards the potbellied stove, narrowly missing.

“It’s lucky for you that you missed. That was my favorite brassiere,” she hissed from below, squeezing hard on my waist with her legs repeatedly.

“Your threats don’t concern me,” I spat. “You’re weaponless again and I’m gonna clean your clock!” She was momentarily mystified at the expression. So I grabbed at her mask, ripping it off over her head, tossing at the potbellied stove, this time scoring a direct hit. 97D was already trying to kill me, so the threat about her whip and mask meant little now. To my great surprise, I recognized her. It was the beautiful, leggy brunette librarian that had been so helpful a few days ago in London! I should have known!

She glared up at me evilly, fuming at the loss of her mask. “You were completely without clue as I pretended to help you at the library!” she spat.

“Yeah, but so were you!” I muttered in return as I began squeezing her huge breasts once more.

97D grimaced in pain, realizing she’d have to try something else. Soon she released the scissors lock on my waist and managed to pry my hands from her breasts. I rolled away to the side and away from her powerful legs.

We rose to our feet to face off. 97D made no move to regain her brassiere / garrote. Apparently she was content to face me with no weapons at hand - possibly overconfident, or possibly aware of something I wasn’t. The uncertainty made me nervous.

Her large breasts swayed ominously, the dim lighting off the stove shimmering across their curvaceous surfaces. 97D paused for a moment, possibly to let me comprehend her incredible beauty. Her large, pink nipples were erect. She was obviously very aroused by our current situation, locked in mortal combat. It disturbed me to realize that I was in the same condition. We began to circle each other warily, preparing to resume. I saw her eyes following the bulge in my undershorts as she realized our mutual condition - very strange, indeed.

“What’s the matter, Amerikaner - suddenly not so sure of yourself?” she goaded.

“Not really. Just watching that you don’t take some unfair advantage again… some weapon or whatever,” I replied testily.

“Do not be concerned. I need nothing other than my fighting skills to defeat the likes of you,” she sneered in return.

97D suddenly lunged at me, but I was ready for her. I slapped her outstretched arms away and ducked behind her quickly, applying a full nelson before she could counter. I maximized the pressure on her neck and was rewarded with a loud cry of pain from her beautiful lips. “Amerikaner Schweinhundt!!”

97D thrashed about, try to get free of the full nelson, managing to force the struggle to all areas of the cottage. As we passed in front of a mirror in the dressing area, I managed to halt her progress long enough to view her stunning body in the mirror as I continued to stretch her arms behind her head. 97D’s magnificent breasts jutted out from her torso, like two powerful orbs of destruction. Her face was contorted beautifully as she resisted the pain I inflicted with the full nelson. Her two long pigtail braids were trapped between our bodies. 97D’s arms, legs and abdomen were beautifully shaped, even muscular in appearance. My eyes were drawn to her crotch area, which was drenched with sweat from our exertion. I could see the blond thatch of pubic hair through her now transparent panties - definitely a natural blond!

Apparently, I let up on the pressure as I admired her physique, because suddenly we were propelled across the room with great force. I managed to maintain the hold as we collided with the kitchen table, and slammed into a wall. But then 97D forced us into the (interrogation) chair, and the hold slipped off as we slammed onto the floor together.

I was shaken up by the fall, staggering to my feet slowly. 97D apparently suffered few ill effects and captured me in a standing headlock as we rose. Her right breast was pressed against the left side of my face and I found myself enjoying the close-up view of her breast more than I should have.

As 97D had done while I was in control, I forced the action around the room as she maintained her mastery over me. I tried to force her to trip over the chair, but she managed to steer us clear of it, instead positioned once again in front of the mirror.

“How do you like the view now, Amerikaner?” she mocked as she made her breasts shimmy for my benefit. I saw she was grinning from ear-to-ear, clearly enjoying my predicament.

“You’ll get yours,” I spat back as I struggled to get loose.

“You seem very interested in my most awesome weapons, Amerikaner. Perhaps you’d like a closer look?” she continued.

I could see she was weaponless, so I didn’t know what she was talking about. 97D gradually began forcing us toward the couch, headlock still clamped upon me. I figured maybe I could crash us into the couch and get loose, so I went along with it. But I discovered her true motive as she tripped me and spun me around onto my back upon the couch. 97D landed square upon me, and I became worried about getting another knee to the groin. When her mammoth breasts slammed into my face, I finally realized what 97D had meant by her ‘most awesome weapons’. She meant to smother me to death with her massive breasts! Her arms wrapped around my head as she pressed her breasts hard against my face, easily covering my mouth and nostrils. I nearly panicked as my breath began to run out.

“You fought well Amerikaner,” she spoke with mock admiration, “but ultimately I am victorious, while you suffer the ultimate defeat.”

I could hear her saying something else, but had little comprehension as my consciousness began to fade. My arms flailed around her and against her back, eventually connecting with her two long pigtail braids. I had enough awareness remaining to recognize a possible escape. I grabbed her pigtails, one in each hand and yanked for all I was worth. 97D bellowed a horrific scream and reared back to relieve the pressure on her scalp. I gasped a life-giving breath of fresh air as her breasts came off of my face.

I didn’t dare release the pressure on her braids, or I’d find myself in the same circumstance again. I pulled even harder, and was rewarded by her tumbling off the couch. But she clamped onto my arms as she fell and I was pulled along with her. We rolled around furiously on the floor bumping into the chair from time to time, back and forth across the floor, crotches brushing together as our legs intertwined, trying to gain the upper hand over the other.

Soon our hands found each other’s throat as we tried to throttle the other before succumbing ourselves. It was the ultimate hold, both simultaneously trying to destroy the other. I pressed on even as I felt my life-force fading. 97D seemed to have endless reserves, and I wasn’t certain I’d survive. But finally, her grip loosened and I could breathe normally again. 97D had passed out! It was a moment before I regained my senses, realizing that my mission was not one of death. I needed her alive to interrogate. I badly needed her information so that we could round up all of her compatriots, especially the mole within MI5. I quickly released her throat, and after a moment I heard her begin to breathe once more. I was greatly relieved, but for reasons more than professional, I realized, as I stared at her unconscious, nearly naked form. My erection vied for my full attention, but I managed to resist my desires.

97D was unconscious, but probably not for long. I finally stirred myself to action, continuing to marvel at her exquisite body, especially those huge firm breasts, as I worked. I dragged her over to the chair and sat her up on it. I quickly tied her hands and feet to the chair, which was fortunate as 97D awakened just as I finished. I sat up to appraise my work and was very pleased to see her huge breasts jutting out prominently, as I’d tied her elbows together behind her back.

I was sorely tempted to grope and fondle those huge orbs, and she knew it as well. “You’ve won. Untie me and we can make love. I’m yours to command,” she purred softly.

I knew better than to believe her. I settled for a short breast grope, then let go and began to search the cottage for the truth serum that I knew must be somewhere nearby. My search was quickly rewarded. The syringe and serum were in one of the kitchen drawers. I quickly filled the syringe to the mark and expertly injected it into 97D’s left arm before she realized what I was doing.

“You’ll never get away with this!” she spat venomously. “I’ll tell you nothing!”

She continued to thrash around and curse in German, slowly calming as the drug took effect. She continued to threaten me all the while, saying, “I’ll hunt you done, and… and…”

It was clear the drug now had control, so I asked her, “So what will you after you hunt me down? Kill me or something?”

“Nein. I want to hunt you down so I can make mad, passionate love to you. No one has ever dominated me, and I wish only to be taken by you. And, I would also challenge you to a rematch, but pure form wrestling rather than a death-match.”

This was quite a revelation, and, it must have been the truth. Even so, I still doubted that she would follow through with her promise if released. Instead, I allowed myself one brief spoil for my victory. I left her tied up, and then sat facing her on her lap, straddling her legs as she had her straddled mine in this very same chair earlier this evening. I groped one of her magnificent breasts in each of my hands. Then I kissed her hard on the lips. She responded eagerly as we continued for several minutes.

Finally, I wrenched myself free of her, my desires nearly overcoming my sensibilities and duty. I stood up and took a few steps back, regaining control the farther away I got. 97D wept quietly, begging me to return. It was difficult, but I refused to listen to her pleas for sexual pleasuring as I began the interrogation.

“First of all Miss 97D… it is miss isn’t it?”

“Ya. I am unmarried,” she replied quietly.

“What is your given name and when & where were you born?” I asked.

“My birth name is Greta Hofmeister. I was born on February 20, 1921 in Heidelberg, in the northern region of the German state of Baden-Wurttemberg.”

“It seems only fitting that I should introduce myself to you,” I told her. The female agents at OSS call me Agent 11, similar to the reason you are called 97D.”

“That is sad news indeed. You must have the shortest pecker ever,” she replied with no tact whatsoever.

“That might be true, but you’re still thinking in Metric. Take a moment to do the math,” I told her.

She gasped loudly, “Ausgetzeichnet!!” Then momentarily, she calmed down and spoke truthfully, but in a monotone. “You must take me now. I must have you.”

“Calm down now, and tell me about your operations against England and the United States.”

Greta began detailing the whole operation to me, and I realized after just a few minutes that this would take all night. I interrupted her report and asked where the radio was hidden. I quickly tuned it to the frequency used by OSS and arranged for a team to pick up Max and Bruno in London at the address Greta supplied.

Then I arranged for a car to be left nearby the cottage at my disposal. In the remaining hours of the night, Greta told me everything! We’d have little trouble dismantling her much vaunted spy ring. But after hearing her confession, I couldn’t bring myself to turn her over to the authorities, despite the fact she had tried to kill me.

Her explanation was simple. “We harmed no civilians! You and the MI5 agent were exceptions because you were spies, like myself.” I guess it was a code of honor of sorts.

I knew she was no longer a threat, so I loosened her bonds slightly before leaving. I kept the brassiere / garrote as a souvenir/trophy/spoil of war. As I drove away, I actually felt sorry for 97D. Her superiors would not be so forgiving. 97D was most likely doomed.

The End

[Author’s note: Any similarity of names used in this story to actual persons was unintentional and purely coincidental.]