Agents of Love

Marta and Anthony Taken

"You look fine! Come on we will miss the performance." Anthony nagged halfheartedly. It was in his experience that no amount of urging would entice Marta from her dressing table until she was a masterpiece. Despite his reassurances that she was nothing but a vision of feminine charms, she would not budge until every hair was perfectly in place and her face flawless.

"Voila!" Marta met his eyes through the mirror, and grinned. "Now I am irresistible. The Fuhrer himself couldn't say no to me." She boasted playfully as she stood from her dressing table. "What do you care of the performance? You will be skulking in the shadows!"

Anthony rolled his eyes and groaned in mock horror. "A beast! A monstrosity!" He dodged the hairbrush she flung at him, smiling broadly. He liked this side of Marta, when she wasn't the agent, but simply a beautiful woman. A beautiful woman who smiled at him, who perhaps one day could care for him as he cared for her

"Now Antony, you're positive that Himmler will be at this particular party?"

"I am, luckily for us it's being held at the one hotel large enough for a party on such a scale. Here is your room key, you are visiting a friend, he doesn't show for your assignation. Desolate, you shall seek the arms of another man. Himmler." He frowned at the thought

An evil glint lit Marta's blue eyes, " And once I get him alone, I shall slip a little something in his champagne. He will be so incredibly intoxicated that he has an unfortunate fall from the balcony." She winked. "Of course I'll be absolutely inconsolable. "

"Are you sure this kind of blatant assassination will go unnoticed?" Antony asked.

Marta sighed with impatience. "You worry too much."

"And you my dear don't worry enough." Antony muttered petulantly

Twenty minutes later Antony watched from the shadows as Marta made her entrance into the hotel. She was a stunning woman, every curve hugged tight in a Ruby red floor-length gown. The neckline was daring, and her creamy shoulders were caressed by a white fox stole. Her blonde hair had been elegantly curled and pinned up, her delicate neck arched like a swan as she surveyed the hotel bar. Every man stopped and stared, even the musicians faltered. She stood a moment, for all the world a queen surveying her kingdom, before the smile faded from her Ruby red lips and she made her way to the bar. To the trained eye her steps were too precise. But to the German officers she appeared absolutely crestfallen.

She took a seat at the bar, her lithe grace almost sensual as she settled herself on the barstool. She smiled sadly as the attentive bartender took her order. "How are you this evening mademoiselle?" He asked.

She took the glass of champagne gratefully, "Not very well in afraid. I was supposed to meet an old friend for dinner but it looks as though he isn't coming."

"Then he is a fool, and you shouldn't mourn his absence. " the barkeep replied with the confidence of a man who had comforted many a drunkard, though  perhaps none as pretty. He left her with her drink, turning to another customer who approached from behind her. "Struchumfurer, what may I get you?"

Marta took a sip of champagne before slowly turning her head to view the man behind her. She nearly gasped as she took him in. The man had the most disturbing grey eyes she had ever seen. Cold, dead, utterly devoid of emotion. She felt a chill race up her spine even as she smiled at the man.

He returned her appraisal, a glint of interest lit his eyes. Much like a lion's eyes falling upon a lamb. "May I buy you a drink fraulein?"

She lifted her glass of champagne almost apologetically. "I have one thank you. Perhaps the next one?"

He gestured to the stool next to her. "May I sit?" It came out almost an order.

She turned to face him more, exposing a bit of leg as she did so. "Certainly you're most welcome Sturchumfurer...?"

He made a short bow, "Peiter Morwitz. At your service."

Marta extended her hand which he took gallantly and kissed. His lips were cold and dry. Inhuman. "Marta." She said a little breathlessly.

Peiter smiled a predatory gleam in his eyes. He took her hand in his and raised it to his lips. "Charmed mademoiselle. What brings you to the Hotel Mormon?"

Marta smiled a bit sadly, "I was to meet an old friend for dinner, but it seems he has changed his mind."

"How fortuitous for me, I too am here alone would you care to join me?"

Marta sipped her champagne, assessing him. He was a high ranking officer, perhaps she could extract information?  "That would be lovely!" She smiled warmly at him, allowing the full dazzle of her blue eyes to beguile him.

He slid onto the seat beside her, close enough that she caught the scent of his cologne. It was a heady mixture of evergreen and citrus. His leg brushed hers, and instead of jerking away as she instinctively wanted to do, she ran the toe of her high heel down his shin playfully.

"My business in Berlin just became infinitely more interesting." He said lowly. Gently running his hand over her thigh suggestively.

She turned to smile impishly at him, but the playful grin slipped from her face as Peiter roughly seized her arm just above the elbow. Marta gasped in surprise and her perfect eyebrows rose in indignation. "Owch you're hurting me!" She exclaimed.

Peiter forcefully lifted her from the barstool, his strength was both surprising and terrifying as he forced her across the floor. 

Marta did not know if it was the pain or shock that prevented her from fighting back. But she suddenly found herself outside, the chill of the night air raising goosebumps on her exposed arms. "Let go of me!" she hissed.

"I think not fraulein." He murmured close to her ear. "I have questions and you my dear have answers."

Marta's eyes widened in fear. She looked frantically over Peiter's shoulder for Anthony. What she saw made her legs go weak in defeat. Antony was struggling between two SS officers. He met her eyes for just a moment. His face flushed and angry, his eyes... apologetic? She held his gaze as long as she could, and then let out a cry of alarm as a third SS officer clubbed the still struggling Anthony across the temple with his gun. Anthony collapsed to the street like a sack of grain. The officers guffawed and roughly seized him under the arms. Dragging him towards a truck.

"There, there fraulein. You may join your friend." He roughly pulled her arm behind her back twisting it painfully as he half pushed, half dragged her towards the truck. "And we shall have some time alone very soon."

Marta spun to face him, spitting in his face.

Peiter smiled. "I think I'm going to enjoy you." Then without warning he hit her, hard.

Marta stumbled back a step her eyes swimming with tears. The last thing she saw was his fist as it connected with her jaw. Then, everything went dark.