He closed the door and turned around.
Jourdan pushed him gently back against the door and knelt in front of him, liberating his manhood from his trousers in one easy and practised movement.
Her mouth closed around him and she commenced a brief but intense demonstration of her skills as a fellatrix.
His approaching orgasm overtook him and the contents of his hands fell to the floor, her head replacing them in his grasp as he worked her on him, gaining more impetus with each pull of her soft mouth onto him.
Jourdan kept her mouth around him as he moaned, shuddered and expended himself.
Even though she stayed firmly fixed to him as he came back down to earth, her eyes nearly burst open when she spotted the ‘Top Secret’ stamp on the file mixed with the Polish Liaison reports, the Polish-language newspaper, and the Stars and Stripes.
She instantly memorised the few things she could see, even as her Polish lover expended the last drops of his lust inside her.
Gisela knew what she had to do.
Having left Kowalski snoring, victim of post-orgasmic torpor, Jourdan sorted out her uniform and stepped smartly out into the corridor, wishing to appear unconcerned should she be spotted.
She wasn’t so much spotted as nearly knocked over, as a Legion Captain barrelled into her in his haste.
“My apologies Fraulein…err… Sergent.”
She regained her composure.
“Accepted, Capitaine.”
The Legion officer did not ask her what she was doing there; neither did he seem to want to prolong the contact, so Gisela quickly saluted, leaving both of them free to move on.
At the signals section, she begged a telephone so that she could call her lover.
“Hello Max? So sorry to leave it so late, but can you tell Captain Logan that I won’t be able to honour our date tonight and ask him to ring me at my quarters as soon as possible?”
That told the OSS agent on the other end of the line that the call was extremely urgent.
“OK, will do Gisela. Two minutes.”
Smiling at the ex-SS NCO, she pointed at a small office presently unoccupied.
“I will get a call shortly. Can I take it in there, please?”
The Signals Sergent-Chef nodded and pointed her to the seat, taking in her fabulous legs all the way from his desk to the leather chair some yards away.
The phone rang and one of the staff answered. Under the direction of the ‘peeping tom’ NCO, the call was passed through to Gisela, who ensured that the German Legionnaire’s attention was fully on her legs and thighs, and not on whatever she was going to say.
The voice on the other end was all business.
“This better be good.”
“My man is in possession of a folder marked top secret. Code-named Spectrum, sub-named as black, blue and possibly red. I couldn’t see any more. It had ‘Normandie’ and ‘Camerone’ clerking receipt marks. Instructions required.”
Colonel Sam Rossiter knew exactly what the folder contained, and he also instantly knew that he could not risk the information in any way.
Gisela smiled at the leering NCO, almost popping his eyes out of his head as she ran a hand over the suspender that was now the focus of his attention.
“Keep him occupied. Do whatever you have to do, but don’t let him out of your sight. No way, no how. And that goddamn file is your priority. Nothing matters more. Nothing. Clear?”
“Very clear, Captain Logan.”
“I’ll have a team with you…within two hours. We will do this discreetly if we can, but that file is too valuable to risk.”
Jourdan giggled as if sharing a smutty joke with a familiar lover, further enticing the German signaller with the promise of more thigh and a wicked sexy smile.
“I understand my instructions.”
“That file is your priority. Clear?”
For the benefit of the drooling watchers, Jourdan finished the conversation in a louder and more playful fashion.
“But of course, Darling. You may have whatever you want later. Au’voir Cherie.”
Straightening her skirt, Gisela strolled from the room.
“Thank you so very much, Sergent-Chef. I shall remember how kind you have been. Perhaps you are off-duty tomorrow evening.”
She actually knew that he wasn’t.
“Another time then. Thank you again.”
Three minutes later, she was back in Kowalski’s room.
The file was nowhere to be seen.
The rules had been broken but, as ‘Amethyst’ finished deciphering the message, he understood why.
The old man who had bumped into him as he entered the billet spoke a keyword, as well as an apology, so that he would know that he had been passed something of importance.
‘Amethyst’ read the message again, drinking in every syllable, and confirming his interpretation.
‘Tonight.’
It wasn’t just a random thought based around the urgency stipulated in the three-sentence communication.
The man named was four rooms down the corridor from where the Soviet agent had his temporary sleeping quarters.
He rubbed his left arm, somehow bruised when he had bashed into that woman driver, the thought that she no longer occupied the ‘Polish’ bastard’s bed an advantage he knew he should take advantage of.
“Tonight.”
‘No! Now!’
‘Amethyst’ changed into an old uniform, one not out of place in the headquarters, but certainly one that could go missing without problems. He removed his Walther P38 and holster, both of which had been his companions in the field since he had first fought the Allies in Normandy.
Fishing about on top of the wardrobe, he grabbed the old nail and slid the bed to one side.
Inserting the nail in the gap between the boards, he turned it and pulled up, the bent end providing just enough purchase to bring the old board out of its place.
Inside, wrapped in an old piece of cloth, were a few pieces of important paper, all forgeries of course, and another cloth package.
This he opened carefully, exposing a British-made Welrod silenced pistol, an item he had clandestinely purchased whilst training at Sassy some weeks beforehand. It had been offered for sale by an ageing French Maquisard, and the old resistance fighter had died silently when the pistol was tested.
‘Amethyst’ had not been in the first wave of ex-SS Legionnaires to go into action, joining up with Camerone only recently.
Even though he knew that the magazine was full and the weapon ready for use, he still went through the checks, inspecting the .32ACP rounds and testing the bolt action.
He quickly rolled an old map and slid the twelve inch long barrel inside it, concealing the magazine and trigger in his hand.
He took a deep breath, and opened the door.
Jourdan had spotted the file without too much effort. Kowalski had awoken and remembered his acquisition, hiding it in plain sight in a small pile of paperwork, whilst concealing the ‘Top Secret’ markings. The red colour attracted her eye none the less.
Seizing the moment, he had leapt on Gisela as she removed her clothing and taken her roughly and hard, quickly expending himself and falling back onto the bed once more.
Gisela Jourdan had neared orgasm herself, but he had finished too quickly for her liking.
She slipped from the bed to where a washstand was concealed behind a screen.