Spycubus Ch. 01
Dasha was undressing in the bedroom when the phone rang. She heard the heavy steps of Vitaliy cross the room followed by an abrupt end to the ringing. She froze, half undressed, as she tried listening for Vitaliy's low voice through the door. Unable to make out his words, she immediately assumed the worst. The phone clicked as it was returned to the receiver and Vitaliy cleared his throat before returning to the chair on the other side of the room. Dasha's heart was racing. She couldn't believe that she was getting pulled out. She had gotten so close only to have to leave without finishing the job. Collecting herself, she finished changing out of her clothes; even if she was right about the call she would still have to play along for a little while longer.
She chose the black lingerie from the wardrobe and quickly put it on before stopping to assess herself in the mirror. She had just turned 28 last month, but had been passing for 22. Her long dark hair fell almost to her firm breasts before she decided to tie it up in a tight bun. She was petite with round features, and with her clothes off it was evident that she was in very good shape and had spent time toning her muscles. Dasha smirked as she remembered the lie she told Vitaliy the other night about having trained as a ballerina in her youth. He might not have bought it—a little white lie that no doubt many young women tell their suitors every night across the Soviet Union. It didn't matter, she was still probably the finest piece of ass old Vitaliy could hope to get.
She donned a pink silk robe and with one last spritz of perfume she confidently walked to the door. Opening it, she asked, "Who was that on the telephone?"
As she spoke Vitaliy stood up and approached her. Brushing her cheek he said in a gruff voice, "I'm so sorry malishka, it's your father, I'm afraid he has passed away and you are to return home at once."
Much of her life over the past six months had been an act, but no one scene could be as pivotal as her performance in this moment. She stayed silent for a moment, her mouth agape, before letting out a quiet gasp and then falling into Vitaliy's embrace as she began to weep softly.
He held her gently without saying a word. He had bought it, or so it seemed. Dasha had summoned the saddest memory she could find, and the tears followed, but she didn't linger with pride in her performance, instead her mind raced. This was even worse than she thought, "...passed away and you are to return...at once" that meant get out immediately, don't make any calls, don't pack, run. She had expected to hear that her father was "very sick, please come before it's too late." Her life was in danger. Could Vitaliy know? Surely not, he was an old-fashioned, no-nonsense kind of man, Dasha didn't think he would be able to pull off any kind of act.
She could hear the bedside clock ticking, it must have been five minutes since the call came in, and every second now was precious.
Vitaliy interrupted her thoughts. "Dasha my malishka, I will arrange to have a car take you to the airport in the morning."
Dasha pulled away, tears still in her eyes. "No, I must leave tonight." She spoke firmly, staring him straight into his eyes, searching them for any trace of knowing."
Vitaliy pursed his lips and pleaded with her, "Dasha dorogaya, there won't be any flights to Babruysk until the morning. I'm afraid you'll--
"No, not Babruysk, Minsk," she hesitated ever so slightly before continuing quickly, "my family moved there two years ago. They live in Zavodski" She was faltering now. It was sometimes difficult to keep her false identity and her real identity straight. She was born in Babruysk and she had told Vitaliy that, what she hadn't told Vitaliy was that in 68' her father helped her family secretly emigrate to America. She never had any connection with Minsk, the only time she had ever been there was on her way to Moscow six months ago. Her contact was in Minsk, and if she hoped to get out of the Soviet Union alive she had to get there as soon as possible.
Vitaliy stood silently, his face betraying not an ounce of emotion. Of all her marks, Vitaliy was by far the hardest to read. With most men, Dasha could have them spilling their hearts and souls to her after a few drinks, some sweet talk, and of course bringing them back up to her room. Vitaliy was different. She wiped the tears from her face, "I will return to Moscow after the funeral, five or six days, a week at the most. Then we can be together, my dorogoi."
Dasha turned away towards the bedroom door but Vitaliy caught her arm.
His stone face now disarmed with a smile. "Fine. We leave tonight. But first, certainly you can afford me five minutes." Vitaliy let go of Dasha's arm and began unbuckling his belt.
She knew that every second counted, but she was also so close to accomplishing her mission. If any of the KGB agents knew the true identity of the agent "M" it would be Vitaliy and this would be the only chance she would get. But, she still had to play the part: no girl having just learned of her father's untimely death would be in the mood.
"Vitya please." She summoned the tears back, her eyes glistening ever so slightly. "Please, not now. Not like this."
Vitaliy's face became warm and kind. "Malishka, I am so sorry for your loss. You loved your father dearly, I see that. And surely he was proud of a beautiful daughter such as yourself. But meeting you this past week has changed my life, we eat together, we drink together, we laugh together, all the while you tease me. You make me wait. No one makes Vitaliy wait, but you do, and I wait for you because I love you dorogaya. I love you and I want to take you away to my estate where we can be together. So you must give me something to remember you by because poor Vitaliy will mourn for you when you leave."
Sounds like a load of bullshit, Dasha thought to herself, but she was losing time and she couldn't play hard to get all night long. Besides, she seriously doubted Vitaliy had five minutes in him.
Dasha allowed herself to blush as she broke a smile. She sauntered towards him. "Fine. Five minutes. But then I really must go." She gave him a deep slow kiss as her hands finished unbuttoning his pants and slipped them down below his knees.
Her official mission was to develop rapport and intimacy with various Soviet agents. Whether that intimacy was physical or emotional was left ambiguous. Dasha assumed her superiors preferred it that way. For Dasha the two were inexplicably linked in a way that made her particularly well suited for the task. Sure, plenty of state secrets could be learned by overhearing phone calls, reading letters and being arm candy at official gatherings. But it was behind the closed doors of the bedroom that Dasha learned the most.
Dasha released the kiss and opened her eyes as she stared deep into Vitaliy's soul. In that single moment she felt as though she understood him better than she had from spending all week with him. In that moment she knew that Vitaliy really did care for her, maybe it wasn't love, but he would be hurt when he learned of her true motivations.
She began kissing her way down his face and into the crook of his neck as she slid his briefs down and found his cock and began stroking it. She whispered, "I will miss you too dorogoi, her breath warm against his neck, before giving him a playful nip and then shoving him forcefully down into the chair.
She stood over him, biting her lip and pausing to let his desire grow, before undoing the tie around her waist and sliding out of the silk robe. Vitaliy now had his first full look at her stunning body. The sheer black lingerie left little to the imagination, her nipples stood at attention, poking through the lace and he could even just make out the finely trimmed hair of her bush. Vitaliy was far from Dasha's ideal companion, but for her, sex was always exciting. It made her feel powerful, and the allure of discovery never got old.
Vitaliy's cock twitched with excitement as she slowly descended down to him. She placed her hands on each of his knees and shoved them forcefully apart as she looked up at him. She again stared deep into his eyes, through them and into his soul as she playfully flicked her tongue around the tip before taking his hard cock into her mouth.
She was in. Whether or not a man intended to divulge his secrets to her, Dasha was able to probe their minds during sex. It was a skill she had learned to develop and hone over the years. At this point, during intercourse or while giving a blowjob, she could read a man's mind and even see into his memories. And if she focused hard enough on a single memory as he came inside her, she could steal it, taking it with her and erasing it forever from his memory.
She started slow, working up and down his cock with her mouth as her hands slowly worked their way up his inner thigh. He let off subtle grunts of satisfaction, and sank deeper into the chair. As he grew more aroused, he became more vulnerable and Dasha was able to dig deeper into his mind.
Her ability to read a man's thoughts during sex gave her unique insights into pleasure, and her line of work provided her with an abundance of experience. She was able to more or less operate on autopilot while giving head, and instead focus on the real task at hand. While she searched Vitaliy's mind for any significant traces of the letter "M" her mouth and hands took on lives of their own, responding instinctively to Vitaliy. Her left hand reached him first and with it she cupped his balls, gently squeezing them, while her right found his shaft and worked up and down in unison with her mouth.
He began to breathe heavier and reached down with one hand sliding it underneath the lace to cup her breast, grasping it firmly as it filled his hand before rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
Dasha felt a wave of pleasure surge through her, and with it the memories she sifted through took on a new vibrancy, she could see more clearly and hear more distinctively, she even got hints of scent from his memories. Underneath it all she felt her body's arousal in the present and her own yearning to be touched.
Letting go of his shaft with her right hand she took his cock fully into her mouth for the first time. He responded by grabbing and squeezing her tit firmly. Her hand slid into her lace panties which were soaked through and she began to rub her clit.
Her body radiated with warm pleasure as she resumed her search. Vitaliy was nearly panting now and she knew that her window of opportunity would soon close. She rubbed furiously at her clit with one hand while she fucked his cock with her mouth as fast as she could. In her mind's eye she was watching Vitaliy attend meetings and make phone calls on fast forward, never once did he meet with an agent "M." She expected such a prominent agent to take up a bigger space in his mind, but what if it was all just a wild goose chase?
Through the memories she could hear herself panting, was she really about to come? She had never had to strain so hard to find what she was looking for. She pressed the three fingers of her right hand as deep inside herself as she could and felt a surge of pleasure release. She opened her eyes wide as her orgasm began shaking her body. Her left hand squeezed Vitaliy's balls tight as she once again swallowed the entire length of his cock. She felt him tense up and knew he was about to climax.
Her own body continued to writhe in pleasure but she had to go back in once more. Just as he tensed up, about to come, she shut her eyes once more and finally found it. It wasn't an agent, rather an entire operation. Operation Minerva. That had to be it, she was sure of it. It was mentioned only briefly in a single handwritten letter between Vitality and a man named Leonid, but it was a start. She held onto the mental image of the letter as he grasped the back of her head and filled her mouth. She eagerly gulped down every last bit of him, and with it swallowed the memory whole, the image of the letter and its contents exiting his body and into her mind.
Her orgasm subsided just as she swallowed the last drop. She didn't like to make a habit of stealing memories, but a glimpse wouldn't have been enough. She needed full access to the memory so that she could recall it later and closely study it when she had time. If everything went according to plan, she would never have to see Vitaliy again.
* * *
400 miles to the northwest in Leningrad a man stood alone in the rain as he waited for a cab. His overcoat had soaked through and his clothes beneath were damp and cold. He carried with him only a briefcase which he held over his head hoping to shield himself from some of the deluge. Unlike Dasha, he had been alone when he received his call. As he waited he tried to remain calm, but feared the worst in every set of passing headlights.
Finally a cab approached and came to a stop in front of him. The driver rolled down the window and asked him where he was going. He replied in clean carefully enunciated Russian, giving the cab driver an address in the industrial district on the outskirts of town. The driver nodded and with one last look over his shoulder, Michael stepped into the car.
Michael Barnes had been living as Mikhail Ivanovich Orlov for the past 18 months. He spoke Russian well and without accent, but his cadence often came across as stiff but not so much as to blow his cover. Unlike Dasha, he had grown up not in the Soviet Union, but in Ohio. But Mikhail Ivanovich was not wholly fictional, last Michael had heard he was studying medicine at Johns Hopkins in Baltimore. Mikhail's father worked in the KGB as a silent member of the opposition. He used his position to make connections so that he could spirit Mikhail away to America. Michael's resemblance matched Mikahil's close enough, so he was sent by the CIA over the Atlantic in exchange to take his place.
He ran into his new father quite frequently and the two had to fein a fondness for one another. These interactions were awkward, but the two played their part well. For Ivan Alexandrovich Orlov it was more difficult. Michael was always a reminder of the son he would never see again, but he knew that one slip up by either of them would result in a bullet to the head for both of them.
Once in the backseat of the cab Michael finally felt safe. He would be at the safehouse within the hour and then maybe even back to DC by next week where he might finally be able to see...
Dasha. If he had been made then what about her? She was likely in danger as well, and there was nothing he could do. His heart raced, the unknowing gnawed at him from the inside as the cab sped through the deserted streets of Leningrad.
* * *
She rose from her knees to give Vitaliy a kiss and he took her face in his hands staring into her eyes as he said, "Never have I ever felt so close to a girl as with you just now. I will miss you malishka, please hurry back." He kissed her on the forehead and then stood up and walked through the open doorway to the bedroom and into the bathroom where he called out, "Pack your things dorogaya, we will leave for the airport at once" before shutting the door.
As soon as the latch clicked Dasha leapt into action. She moved through the bedroom, she had precious seconds to take whatever she might need. She had a bailout bag packed and ready to go underneath the bed which she grabbed and slung over her shoulder. She then picked up her evening dress and shoes off the floor before scurrying back into the living room. She waited for the toilet to flush before she unlatched the door to the hotel room and slid silently into the hallway.
She sprinted down the hallway still in her lingerie with her dress in one hand and shoes in the other. She passed the main elevator and swung a left towards the back of the building where the service elevator was. By now, Vitaliy would have surely noticed her absence, but what would he do? He couldn't move very fast, but were there others in the building he could call? And who made her? Where was the threat?
She turned right at the end of the hallway and busted through the door to the corridor which led to the service elevator. At the end of the short corridor she saw a maintenance man waiting for the elevator. The doors began to open just before she reached it and she ran inside behind the man.
She smiled and said hello as casually as she could before dropping her bag and throwing her dress over her head. Once clothed again, she pressed the button for the main floor of the hotel. She tried to ignore the man and focused instead on the floor number indicator as it clicked from 17 to 16, but she felt him staring at her. She smiled at him again and said "Good evening."
He took a step towards her, "You know, you look better without the dress."
There was a click as the elevator passed the 14th to the 13th floor. It seemed to move so much slower than the main terminal. She tried to ascertain the level of threat this man posed to her; certainly less than the KGB agents, but she couldn't afford to draw any attention to herself. Her main concern at the moment was whether or not anyone would be waiting for her when the elevator reached the first floor.
"C'mon kroshka, how much for a quickie?"
She inhaled deeply, smiled, and then turned to face him. "You can't afford me, malish."
He leered at her, grinning while chewing on what smelled like tobacco. He was in his mid-thirties and wasn't half bad looking except for his thinning hair and dirty work coveralls. His green eyes had a sort of off-putting placidity which made them hard to read.
"Oh yeah?" He spit on the floor and took another step towards here. He was glaring at her now.
The elevator clicked again, but Dasha dared not take her eyes off the man to see how many more floors to go.
He took another step and was now towering over her. "Maybe I'll just take what I want then."
As he reached out to grab her waist there was a loud ding and the elevator stopped. Dasha grasped the man's shoulder with her and brought her knee up as hard as she could into his crotch. He cried out in pain and fell backwards. She reached down and grabbed her duffel bag and ran out from the elevator.
She took a few steps before realizing that she hadn't gotten off on the first floor; this must have been the floor her comrade had intended to get off on. But, he wasn't going anywhere. He was still groaning on the floor of the car as the doors began to close behind her.
She quickly whirled around and stopped the doors just before they shut entirely. Looking up at her, the man spat, "Fuck you, bitch." She responded by planting her foot in his chest, shoving him back into the floor.
Smirking, she looked into his green eyes and said, "Looks like I'll be the one taking what I want." She yanked his key ring from his belt and then ducked back out of the elevator.
When she checked into the hotel she made a point to memorize the floorplan. She knew that there were stairwells in each of the four corners of the building so from the service corridor there would be a door to the stairs immediately to her right. But then what? Waiting at the bottom of those stairs would be her new eunuch friend, or worse. And if he was discovered it wouldn't be long before they knew what floor she was on.
Up. She had to go back up.
Once in the stairwell she sprinted up two flights taking the stairs two at a time and pulled open the door to floor 6. The hallway was empty and quiet. She walked briskly to the first guest room and assessed the keys she had stolen from the maintenance man. There were about twenty keys in all, but only four which resembled her own room key. One of those had to be the master.r"
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