On Her Majesty's Secret Service ~ H.S.

Chapter 9

"Listen up! Can everyone hear me?" General Sanders yells from the front of the mess hall. The rest of the recruits and I have just finished dinner. The day passed uneventfully- just a few running exercises and an hour in the shooting range. Now, however, it seems we have a new mission.

"You're being sent out into the field- for real this time. MI6 is in need of documents that are currently in the possession of a certain diplomat. You're mission is to retrieve these documents." Sanders starts. I can't help my heart from leaping with joy. Finally- A real field mission. A chance to prove myself- prove that I can handle proper missions, not just contrived tests at headquarters.

"Tonight, our target is at a night club in the south of London. Above this club are luxury suites, one of which we know the target has rented out. He may either carry the documents with him, or they may reside in his suite." Sanders goes on. I listen eagerly.

"We've been lead to believe the documents- which contain key codes to armed weapons in eastern Europe- are being held in a briefcase. Find the key codes." The General informs us. I nod astutely. So, if the documents aren't with our target, I'll need to find a way to get into their suite... A plan starts to form in my head. If we're going to a fancy night club- where I'm sure many elite will be- I need to approach this mission from a certain angle.

I notice for the first time that General Sanders holds files in his hands. He walks towards us and hands us each one. I open the manila folder, not sparing any time, and find our target- Charles Romanoff.

He stands at 5 feet 10 inches tall. He's 61 years old- obvious by his sagging skin and grey, thinning hair. In the picture we've been provided he stands tall, but his gut sticks out noticeably. He shouldn't be hard to find in a crowd.

"That's your target. You have until the end of the night to return with the key codes. Also, this is your final test before pairings are made. Understood?" He finishes his speech. Everyone responds with a curt 'Yes, sir' except for Harry, of course.

"You have half an hour before we leave." Sanders notifies us before turning around and walking out of the mess hall. I don't waste any time sticking around and discussing the new mission with the other recruits. I have an idea in mind- one that will help me complete this mission- and I have to start right away.

Alone, I pad from the mess hall to the dorm. I kneel down beside my bag and retrieve what may as well be my battle armour for tonight- a long, thin, clinging silver dress. A slit travels far up it's side and the neckline plunges rather low. Perfect.

I retrieve some makeup I packed with me and proceed to the bathroom before laying out a plan in my head:

I have tools at my disposal tonight that the boys don't have. Luckily, our target is a man. I learned over the course of my training at Oxford that sometimes guns and knives and violence are not the key to a successful mission, but rather using the tools you were born with can work better. Although I've always found my chest a bit larger than I would have liked, over the past couple months I've learned that although I may be subjecting myself to objectification, it can help me complete my missions faster and more efficiently. I'll be putting that to the test tonight.

I proceed to the washroom and slip the dress on. My breasts are definitely visible- but in a tasteful way- and the material of the dress clings to the curve of my hips and back perfectly. I dab some makeup on my face, hiding the obvious bags under my eyes and a couple bruises here and there. With a bit of eyeshadow and lipstick, I almost don't recognize myself. Perfect- my get up will act as a disguise, too.

I slip on black heels and make my way to the mess hall. I find that Sarah already sits, ready to go. She also wears a dress- but it's short and a little too girly for my taste. I flash her a smile nonetheless and take a seat next to her. It's another 10 minutes before everybody is ready. All the boys wear suits, and I find Victoria only wears a skirt and a blouse.