Mission, Christmas Tree:
Mark knew when he signed up that espionage missions do not take a break for the holidays. The world was full of ‘Red’ bad guys and sometimes in the case of the retired KGB agent had flowing long blond hair and even at middle age their bottom’s were shapely and noteworthy of his attention. Mark viewed the small patch of ten almost picture perfect Frazier Christmas trees in the wooded area. It was what he had been looking for all day, but right now he had other worries. He had not seen or heard from his the CTU team who had dropped him off almost two hours ago by helicopter in the rural snow-bound countryside of winter Russia. Mark set off on his mission while in contact with his mom, Marilyn Semones heading up the recon team. The former math teacher had shown in the past a willingness to put the mission’s safety ahead of her son the agent in the field. therefore she was highly trusted Moscow. Mark was not sure where the pre-arranged pick up spot was located and her tracking were never mirrored by command.
Mark knew from reconnaissance to take the two trees in the middle, although he knew it was the large capsule under that the spot he was to take and spend the rest of the daylight hours trying to find his team and the safe how near Moscow. He spent some time trying to decide which of the smaller trees were the best of the lot, and then got his axe out to chop down the two he had picked. He was bent over the first of the trees clearing the snow away from its base, when he became aware of someone else now almost standing beside him. Before he had a chance to stand up he felt a something hard smash into the back of his head and he lost conscious. Just mini-seconds before that he felt a rope sliding over his head, he knew that was not good.
When Mark woke up, he knew some time had passed as the sun was setting, and within a very short time it would be very dark. That was not the worst of his immediate concern. He found his hands and legs were tied to a sled that was being pulled slowly down a trail he was not familiar with by a person who knew the area much better than he did. His torso was also tied down, preventing any chance he had of rolling off the sled.
He yelled out. “Hey, what are you doing? Why am I tied to the sled. Let me go, I can stand up now.”
There was no response from the person pulling the sled, except for the two large dogs that had been accompanying the person. The dogs bounded back toward him and it was obvious by their snarling and threatening gestures, that he was in some sort of trouble. Exactly how much trouble he would not find out until he was able to talk to whomever was pulling the sled.
He saw the small cabin come in to his view about thirty minutes later. He had been told this area on the mountain was deserted for many years, so the cabin was a complete surprise. The sled stopped moving and the person disappeared in to the cabin. Soon Mark could see smoke coming from the chimney, something that at least told him he may have a chance to get warm, as the air outside was now getting cold.
He yelled again. “Hey, whoever you are. Are you going to leave me out here to freeze to death? Let me loose. Please, just untie me and we can talk this out.” He was starting to worry exactly what the person would do as he was completely at their mercy.
He saw the door open and the person came near his feet. “No noise. No talk.” That was the only words he heard said before the person raised up his snow pants and long underwear to jab a needle into a vein in his leg.
Mark passed out within a few minutes, but not quite before he felt his feet being set free. He struggled to kick at the person, but they easily avoided his clumsily kick and stood back until he had fallen more under control of the whatever drug they had administered. He did hear the person say one thing before he passed out completely. “You no worry. You not freeze.”
Mark had no idea of how long he was asleep, but a glance out one of the two windows in the cabin told him it was now completely dark outside. There were two small lanterns shining in opposite corners, giving him just enough light to make things out. He found he had been completely stripped of any clothing and his hands and feet were bound, except this time he was tied to a heavy duty chair that had him positioned so his upper body was sitting up on about a forty-five degree angle. He tried to move his arms and legs, but any movement was limited to about three inches in any direction. He saw a shadow over by the stove area now apparently cooking something that at least smelled good. Mark found the sheet that covered his body up to his shoulders did keep him fairly warm, and the food smell made him hungry, but the worry about his personal safety was now his main concern.
Mark spoke again, this time trying to keep his voice and tone under control. “Who are you? What do you want from me? You have taken my wallet, my watch and anything else I had when I was out cold, so what do you want?”
The person turned toward him and for the first time Mark could tell whoever it was, the person was a middle age female with a Russian accent and spoke poor English. It was obvious to him the lady, if he could call someone like her a lady, was not interested in make-up or a hair style out of the latest magazines. She came closer and Mark was pleased in her appearance. She had long flowing golden blond hair and the most mouthwatering bottom at her age in her blue jeans that Mark had ever seen. The playboy style agent much like James Bond wanted to reach out and spank it like he had seen 007 do in the spy movie, Goldfinger. Now he wanted to just reach out and spank it.
My name is Charlotta and I am a KGB Agent. She spoke in a terse alto voice. “Don’t want your money, watch, or anything to do with cheap axe. It no good up here. that Vladimir, her boyfriend blabbed to save his ass at CTU about my insurance policy. This is something and keep me from disappearing off the face of the earth. You need not worry about your friends. I know where they will start looking for you at daylight. You no worried, they will find you alive. Now time you answer questions.”
Mark nodded. He now knew her name and a Russian Agent, but he was in no position to argue. “What is it you want to know?”
“Why you dig up my Christmas trees? They are Frazier Furs and quite valuable in Moscow. The capsule under the snow is mine and you were going to steal it.”
Mark gulped as Charlotta’s round bottom was bent over in front of him which caused his joy to rise in his pants at the pictorial sight. throwing caution to the wind he spanked her blue jean-clad butt HARD!
Charlotta grabbed her bottom, then turned her attention to the naughty spy-boy. She clenched the brown hair on his head and pulled hard with her hand making a fist. “One should not spank. Did not your parents teach you good manners? Never spank, it is bad.”
To say Charlotta smiled was almost true, except he did not know if it was a smile or something else too sinister to think about. “Of course you will pay for trying to steal the capsule. Right now we eat, then you pay.” the blond rubbed her bottom where Mark had spanked her. then she brushed her long blond hair out of her face and went toward the stove and put whatever she had been making into a large bowl. Picking up a small wooden spoon she came near him. It was obvious she was going to feed him.
Mark grimaced, wondering what ever she could have cooked up. “What is that?”
The Russian spy grabbed his hair again and indicated for him to open his mouth as the spoon full of stuff was already up by his mouth. “No talk. Eat now, We talk later.”
It was the twenty third of December very close to Christmas. Marilyn Semones like most mom’s the bond to her son strengthened and her heart brightened at this time of year. Mark’s safety became her most important, although it secret objective as she sat in front of her computer and manipulated satellites, drones and gathered intel.
It all had started at J’s a restaurant with checkered tablecloths and distinctive red roof like Pizza hut had in the seventies. I remember it well because my former algebra teacher came up to the table where I was eating with Mark and said hello. I remember it well I was wearing my short white tennis skirt with my legs crossed that were lightly kicking up beside the table. Well, the sight confounded Marty and he blurted out. “You are looking fine.” Poor boy, he was tongue tied. That was his way of launching into a new career for me not an algebra teacher, but as an analyst tracking my son the spy on his missions along with other assignments. All was well until Christmas Time rolled around and I had a brain fart!
So, here I was at the Christmas Party on the afternoon on the twenty third of December waiting for retribution from Marty who had recently arrived aboard his private plane at the spy school secretly hidden in the Savannah Lakes Resort and the modern strand bridge that went Savannah. The CTU Director and our art benefactor had not left the confines of the Head’s office. When suddenly, I heard such a clatter and I got up to see what was the matter. The door opened and the art collector who had used his some of his prized pieces to found a state of the art spy school. a working organization and my former student had hired me to run logistics for his operations. I must admit it felt kind of funny to be working for my former student. I had taught him algebra in high school just a few years ago. Hard times called for desperate measures, so when Marty made me an offer I couldn’t refuse our roles reversed and he became my boss. For security purposes only I knew his real identity.
.... There is more of this story ...