“You know the routine,” said the driver handing Andrea a blindfold. As she did the last time, Andrea put it on and sat back for the ride. She thought to herself that she had been wise not to invest in a car of her own. In Berlin there always seemed to be someone to drive her where she needed to go.
After fifteen minutes, the car came to a stop. It was daylight, so this time the driver told Andrea to keep her blindfold on until she was inside the warehouse. He did not want to risk her identifying any landmarks that might reveal where they were. Inside, it was light thanks to a few overhead windows, but the driver gave Andrea a flashlight for the tunnel. While Andrea waited, he returned to the cab for the attaché case and Ursula’s luggage, then once more to carry Ursula herself into the warehouse. He dropped the unconscious blonde to the ground, where she lay with her ever-shifting dress providing scant coverage.
“There should be some men waiting on the other side,” he said. “I’ll contact them when I get back to my cab and they’ll be along shortly to help you.” Andrea was relieved that she didn’t have to drag Ursula’s body through the tunnel alone; she was quite sure that was beyond her capabilities. After Andrea thanked him, the cab driver took one last look at Ursula and left. As she had hoped, Andrea was left by herself for a few minutes on the west side of the secret passage.
Quickly, she used a discarded crowbar to pry the lid from one of a dozen crates stacked against the far wall. It was partially filled with cigarette cartons. “Perfect,” said Andrea to herself. She put the attaché case in the crate, then repositioned the cartons to cover it. Using the crowbar, she managed to loosely nail the lid back on before shuffling a smaller crate on top of it. Finally, she marked the base of the crate containing the attaché case with a slash of lipstick, and waited for the men to arrive.
A few minutes later, the hatch was pushed open and three men emerged from the tunnel. Andrea recognized them as participants in the interrogation she had conducted the previous month. A small shiver went up her spine. One of them had brought a few coils of rope. They wanted to make sure their cargo wouldn’t cause any problems in transit should she revive earlier than expected. The man with the rope took one look at Ursula, and virtually jumped on her in his eagerness to tie her up.
“No,” Andrea commanded. “She’s my captive. I’ll handle it. Just give me the rope... and a knife.” Reluctantly, rope man did as Andrea asked. Bending over Ursula, she got to work.
“Since she likes to show off all that skin of hers, she won’t mind if we leave this behind,” Andrea said while pulling on Ursula’s tiny outfit. She used the knife to slice it open from neckline to hem, exposing the front of the blonde’s body to the men’s gaze. Two more cuts at the shoulders, and the white dress was pulled away completely. After Andrea removed her shoes, Ursula was left totally nude.
With a dexterity that amazed the three men watching her, Andrea used the rope like an expert rigger. In fact, her bondage skills had been acquired just recently, under Lena`s patient tutelage, and she was pleased to have an opportunity to show them off outside the bedroom. Andrea became just as excited tying up a naked victim as she was being tied up herself. In less than five minutes, Ursula was roped like a calf at a rodeo. Her arms had been pulled behind her back, and multiple loops of twine were artfully wrapped around her chest, midsection, thighs and feet. [see Ursula Bound pic] “She’s all yours, guys,” said Andrea stepping back. “Now she won’t be any trouble if she comes to, and as a bonus she’ll be easier to carry.” Two of the men grabbed a five foot piece of rusty pipe which lay on the warehouse floor and ran it lengthwise along the back of Ursula’s body under the ropes binding her. They hoisted the pipe onto their shoulders, leaving the blonde hanging downwards between them. Ursula’s oversized breasts swung like cow’s udders beneath her, slapping each other as the men wrestled her through the opening to the tunnel. How very appropriate, thought Andrea.
She put the shredded dress and shoes into Ursula’s suitcase and handed it to the third man. “Take this. We’ll dispose of it later. I don’t want to leave any evidence here.”
A large, Russian-built ZiL limo was waiting for them on the other side of the tunnel. The two men carrying Ursula unceremoniously dumped her into the trunk of the vehicle, then got in the back seat, bringing the rusty pipe with them. The third man threw the woman’s suitcase in with her and slammed the lid closed before getting into the driver’s side of the car, leaving Andrea to ride in the passenger seat. The foursome sat in silence during the short ride to the warehouse, which served as a KGB interrogation facility.
Andrea had hoped never to set foot in this place again, but, after forming her plan, she knew it was unavoidable. Chernin was the only one who could -- or rather would -- provide her with what she needed to gain her freedom. She already had the money, but it was useless if she didn’t have a way out of Germany. Andrea needed to get as far from the East-West conflict as possible, and her only way was to barter an exchange. She hoped that Ursula and her ill-gotten information about the missile silos was enough to persuade Chernin to accommodate her.
The two men carrying Ursula again used the pole to shoulder her between them, and, along with their comrade and Andrea, they entered the main chamber of the warehouse. Chernin was waiting for them with a half dozen other men. Without acknowledging Andrea, Chernin walked up to Ursula’s dangling body. He admired her flawless figure and commented on the exceptional rope-work, grabbing her hanging breasts and pulling on them as if milking her, at the same time letting out a hearty laugh. Ursula did not respond.
“Propofol is a powerful sedative, Major,” Andrea said. “It will take much more than tugging on her tits to bring her around.”
“Yes, Agent Noraskaya. We will get to that shortly. But first I must speak with you in my office. I am very confused why you, rather than Agent Strom, have returned with this woman.” Chernin turned to the men. “As for this one...” he slapped Ursula’s rump. “Prepare her. We will deal with her shortly.”
Once alone with Chernin, Andrea told her carefully rehearsed story. “The mission was compromised. Someone discovered Strom was staying with me. Yesterday, she received the call from her contact, after which she told me she would leave this afternoon. I stepped out later that evening, leaving Strom alone in my flat. When I returned just before midnight, I found her dead – shot four times. I panicked, not knowing whether to report the death. Thinking the killers might return, I left and checked into a hotel.”
“And that is when you called us on the emergency line?”
“Yes. I asked my handler to arrange for a pick-up to East Berlin and told him I would try to bring Ursula Fuchs with me. After that, it was just a matter of my posing as Strom to arrange a meeting with Fuchs.” Andrea knew what Chernin would ask next.
“And how did you know about Fuchs and where to find her?”
“I confess that I listened in on the call between Strom and Fuchs. Perhaps not strictly within my orders, but, in case something happened to Strom, I thought you would want a back-up plan. And as it happened …” Andrea braced herself for Chernin’s reaction. If he did not agree that her capture of Ursula outweighed her failure strictly to comply with her orders, her plan was doomed.
Fortunately for Andrea, after a pause to consider her story, Chernin seemed to accept it. Yet how she got the information was not his only concern. “There is also the matter of the money.”
Andrea was prepared. “I knew from the call that Agent Strom was delivering payment to Fuchs, but not how much. Obviously, whoever shot her knew this, too. Strom’s attaché case was missing when I found her. I am guessing it was a covert Western operation to capture Strom and root out Fuchs that accidentally resulted in her death. The West did not get the information they wanted from her but did get whatever money Strom had.”
Again Chernin weighed Andrea’s words before finally nodding. “Yes... I suppose that is possible. But how did you persuade Fuchs without showing her the money?”
“To put it kindly, Ursula Fuchs is not the most insightful individual when it comes to such negotiations. I assured her that the payment was in the cab. She trusted me, just as she trusted that I was Agent Strom. Once in the cab, it was too late for her.” Andrea looked squarely at Chernin. “So I hope that I have fulfilled my duties to your satisfaction?”
“You have brought Fuchs to us, as promised,” said Chernin. “But I do not believe you have yet earned this.” He held up what Andrea had asked for: a West German passport issued in her name. Andrea’s heart skipped a beat. She had requested the passport less than a day ago, yet already Chernin had ordered his minions to create it. Which meant that he took her proposal seriously. She would be rewarded for her loyal service, just as she had hoped.
“But what else must I do? What else can I do?” Andrea asked. “The West knows that I was harbouring Agent Strom, so my cover there is blown. I am no longer of use to the KGB as a covert operative. If you offer me a desk job, I will tender my resignation. That’s not for me. I was hoping the passport would be... like they have in America... a gold watch for my retirement.”
“Do not worry, Agent Noraskaya, you will have your gold watch and your retirement. But just not yet. There is in fact more that you can do. We need to learn from Fraulein Fuchs where to find the information that she stole from the West. We have yet to discover the coordinates and plans for the missile silos.”
“That will not be a problem. Fuchs will break as easily as eggs on a punch press. Your worst interrogator will have her telling you everything in five minutes.”
“Then for you it will be the simplest of tasks. After your performance last month, I had been hoping to see you in action again. Since you will be retiring, this may likely be the last chance for me and my men to enjoy such a stimulating presentation. Once you have broken Fuchs... once we have the information, I will accept your resignation, and you will have your passport.”
Andrea felt a tingle run up her spine. Was this another test? Was Chernin just eager to see her put on another “performance”? Did he believe her? Of course he did, thought Andrea. Why would he have gone to the trouble of forging a passport for her if he did not mean to fulfill her request? He probably did just want to watch her put on what he called a “performance.” Regardless, Andrea realized she had no choice but to proceed. “Very well,” she said. “I hope this will be the last time I have to do this.”
“It will be the last time,” the Major reassured her.
There were several questions Andrea wanted to ask Chernin. Why had she been chosen to harbour Strom? Why had she been delegated only minor duties despite her excellent work breaking Krause, Schneider and Helling? Most of all, who had secretly taped the footage of that interrogation and why? Was Chernin even aware of it? But this was not the time to ask those questions. It was the time to fulfill her last task, get her passport and leave Berlin.
Chernin led Andrea back to the main chamber of the warehouse. As he had ordered, Ursula Fuchs had been prepared for interrogation. She was still tightly bound by the ropes Andrea had so deftly used to constrain her earlier, but now she was suspended from an overhead hoist which left her strung up by a steel hook which ran under the cords looped around her upper back. With her arms still tied behind her, this caused her body to arch backward slightly and left her vulnerable to assaults from all sides. Ursula hung just a few inches from the ground. The ropes which had bound her legs together had been removed and her ankles now were drawn far apart and chained to metal rings in the floor.
Andrea did not care much for this duplicitous woman and her mercenary ways, but she had to admit Ursula looked stunning trussed up naked and helpless, her buxom body almost daring her captors to abuse it. A familiar urge aroused her libido; the sadistic, sexual desires she fought desperately to contain could not be denied. Andrea had been asked – no, ordered – to interrogate, to torture this resplendent female, and suddenly she not only felt obliged to do so, she hungered for the opportunity. She closed in on Ursula like a tigress on a wounded deer.
Andrea looked around the warehouse. She was unconcerned whether she would be recorded, but wondered for vanity’s sake if this interrogation too would be filmed. She assumed it would. In fact, she hoped it would. She would give these lecherous men a performance to remember, one they would want to watch again and again.
She saw that Chernin’s men had already provided an array of tools Andrea could use to conduct the interrogation. She wondered why they did not indulge her the selection of her own arsenal, as they had the previous time, but figured it was simply to save time. Or perhaps the men had already decided on what type of entertainment they preferred. It didn’t matter. The choices were more than satisfactory: a full range of tools and a burning brazier of hot irons would be more than enough to get things started. If she needed anything else, Andrea knew all she had to do was ask.
As before, she began by stripping off her blouse and skirt, which left her attired in the brief black bra, panties and heels that now constituted her uniform when adopting her role as interrogator. The men’s eyes drifted from the completely nude Ursula, to the equally alluring Andrea. She took a moment to pose in her revealing ensemble before getting to the business at hand.
From the array of tools spread out on a table beside the suspended blonde, Andrea chose an industrial pipe scrubber. In size and shape, it resembled the toilet cleaning brushes found in most homes, but this one had a head covered with stiff, inch-long wire spines. Andrea ran the metal bristles over Ursula’s skin, tracing the curves of her body. At first she did not respond, but after a minute she twitched in her bonds and moaned audibly. Andrea delighted in pulling the head of the tool across Ursula’s bulging breasts, drawing thin red lines in the woman’s soft flesh. Andrea drew the scrubber through the deep cleavage of Ursula’s bosom and down the center of her torso, letting the top of the head come to rest against her clean-shaven pubis.
Ursula’s body lurched suddenly and her moans transformed to a high-pitched mewl. Her eyes fluttered, then went wide as her dire circumstances flooded her consciousness. At that precise moment, Andrea thrust the pipe scrubber deep into Ursula’s pussy, completely ravaging her vaginal canal in one vicious stroke. The wire bristles tore through the delicate tissue, severing her clitoris in the process. When the pointed spines collided with Ursula’s cervix, she let out a bestial scream and bucked wildly in her restraints.
As the rapacious tool could go no further, Andrea pulled it in the opposite direction – drawing still more screams – before shoving it in again, leaving about six inches of the handle exposed. Blood poured from Ursula’s vagina, streaming to the floor and across her wide-spread thighs. She continued to thrash in her bonds, but only succeeded in arousing Chernin and his men. All silently acknowledged that, if nothing else, Andrea knew how to begin an interrogation with a bang. She stepped back, leaving the scrubber buried inside the hapless blonde.
“You were a fool, Fraulein Fuchs... to think you could sell Western military secrets to us when we can forcefully extract them from you at any time. Were you really so feeble-minded to think that a low-level nobody like you could deal with us?”
"All I wanted was two million marks and asylum. What I offered was worth much more.” Ursula gasped and coughed, her voice just above a whisper. “You do not need to do this. Just give me what I have asked for, and you will have what you want. If you kill me ... we both lose.”
“That depends on whether you can hold out, leibchen. You have already demonstrated your lack of intelligence. I suspect, your physical strength is equally unimpressive. Now, for once, do the smart thing and tell me where you hid the documents. If you do so now, it will be easier for you. Perhaps we even will release you.”
“Fuck you, bitch,” Ursula spat. “You have no intention of releasing me. But you’ll have to keep me alive as long as I don’t talk... and eventually, you will realize the only way you’ll get those documents is on my terms.”
“You are a remarkably stupid woman,” Andrea said in an even tone. “But I do admire your audacity. Now... once again, where are the documents?” Ursula did not respond. Andrea grabbed the handle protruding from her subject’s mutilated pussy and twisted it. Ursula let out an anguished yelp, but said nothing. Andrea realized that she had underestimated the feisty blonde. Her job would not be as easy as she had thought.
Now that she knew that Ursula was tougher than she had expected, Andrea decided to forgo the secondary implements designed gradually to erode the resistance of a less defiant captive. Her initial assault on the woman had been deliberately extreme with the hope of breaking her quickly. But if the sexual obliteration Ursula had already endured did not succeed, reasoned Andrea, almost all the tools available to her would be equally ineffective.
Except, perhaps, the heated irons in the glowing brazier. Andrea examined them. There were a dozen heavy bars of different sizes and shapes, and all had been fired to a white hot intensity. Ursula watched her lingerie-clad tormentor appraising the wicked implements and tried to hide her terror, but the panic in her eyes was unmistakable. Andrea basked in the crimson glow cast by the brazier, her sweat-slicked skin assuming a lurid hue that matched her thick fiery mane. To the men watching her, Andrea had become a half-naked goddess of torment. To Ursula, she was the devil incarnate.
Andrea directed three of Chernin's burliest men to remove their shirts, don black leather aprons and select a pair of large tongs to use to safely handle the irons. They quickly did so.
“Fraulein Fuchs,” Andrea tried to draw Ursula’s attention away from the hulking brutes who now surrounded her, each holding a glowing iron. “The pain will go far beyond anything you have felt before. As the irons sear your flesh, you will slowly be transformed into a scarred, hideous monster. No man... no woman... will be able to stand the sight of you. So why don’t you tell me where you are hiding the documents before you suffer such a horrible fate.”
“You have already ruined my womanhood. So go ahead... do your worst.”
Andrea sighed and nodded at the man holding a one inch diameter rod ending in a four-inch X brand which glowed menacingly at the rod’s tip. Ursula twisted in her bonds, but there was no way for her to avoid the inevitable.
The man pushed the iron X deep into the blonde’s right thigh, leaving it in place for almost ten seconds. At first, there was only the sizzle of charring flesh, a waft of smoke, and a sickly sweet smell. Ursula’s mouth went wide in a silent scream. So great was her pain that she could not bring herself to inhale. Then, after the iron was drawn away, she at last breathed in and let out a howl of agony that left several of the onlookers covering their ears.
The blackened mark burned deep into Ursula’s thigh, leaving her branded like common livestock. Her screaming faded to wheezing moans as her head dropped forward onto her chest. Andrea grabbed her by the hair and pulled it up again. Tears welled in Ursula’s eyes and she gazed emptily at her tormentor. “Please…” she begged. Andrea just laughed.
“Please? Do you want this to end? Then you should not be pleading, but telling me what I want to know. Otherwise, we will continue.” Andrea waited but Ursula was not about to give in so soon. Andrea nodded at another of the men, this one holding a bar two feet long and one inch square. He walked behind his target and laid the white-hot metal across Ursula’s buttocks. Again there was sizzle and smoke mixed with a piercing scream. The blonde arched her body forward, thrusting out her large breasts in an unintentionally erotic display. When the man at last pulled the bar away, an ugly, festering wound ran across her shapely backside.
Again Andrea waited a few moments for the woman to recover her breath, but Ursula was still not ready to concede. Andrea nodded to the first man and seconds later the still glowing tip of the X brand was thrust against Ursula’s lower abdomen, burning another odious cross just above her groin. This time Andrea did no wait. “Again! Higher!” she shouted. Another X joined the previous one just above the still screaming victim’s navel. “Again!” As Ursula twisted desperately in her bonds, the man plunged yet another X against her flesh, this one into her deep cleavage, leaving another ghastly burn between her lovely breasts.
“Talk bitch!” Andrea barked. “Before we incinerate every inch of your flesh.”
“Never…” gasped Ursula.
“More! Give it to her where she can feel it!” The third man stepped forward carrying a long rod. But in place of an X, a one inch steel spike protruded from the centre of a three inch circular disk, like the tip of a ski pole. As Ursula looked on in horror, the man raised the glowing metal.
“Noooo...” she cried, as he jabbed the spike against her left nipple. He held it there long enough for Ursula to feel the searing heat blister her skin, then rammed it forward, impaling her nipple with the sharp steel. Relentlessly, the man pushed against her breast, burying the brand deep into her soft flesh as her animalistic wailing filled the air. After thirty seconds of continuous pressure, he finally pulled the iron free of Ursula’s breast, dragging strands of melted tissue with it and reducing her once enticing nipple to a blackened crater of flesh. Overwhelmed by the shock and pain, Ursula mercifully, passed out.
“You must be careful, Agent Noraskaya.” Chernin had called Andrea aside while some of his men set about reviving their captive. “Such severe methods... you do not want to kill her before she talks.”
“The burns are very painful and destructive, but the damage is not enough to cause death.” Andrea spoke with confidence.
“Perhaps not directly, but her heart could give out at any time. We do not know how strong she is.”
“This big-boobed bimbo is more resilient than she appears. Otherwise, she would have given in by now. Trust me Major, she can take much more.” Andrea looked at the men, who were taking turns punching the non-responsive Ursula in failed attempts to revive her. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I think your team of amateurs needs some assistance.” Chernin nodded and motioned for Andrea to continue.
“You won’t bring her around by beating her to death!” she chided the men. “Bring two large buckets of ice-cold water.” Then, looking at the nasty burns on the woman’s body she added, “Salt water!”
Seconds after the first bucket was emptied across Ursula’s back and the second thrown across her front in a freezing deluge, Ursula shuddered to consciousness with a start, gasping and thrusting against her restraints. The ropes around her upper chest, pulled tight by the hook hoisting her, had already dug deep furrows into her flesh, leaving blood streaming over her breasts. Her other bonds had also chaffed her skin, and the open wounds left by the hot irons left a plethora of exposed nerves. Just as the shock of the frigid volley ebbed, the salt seeped into Ursula’s wounds and inundated her in new waves of agony.
“Nooo... stop... I beg you...” Ursula babbled incoherently. Andrea could not help but revel in her victim’s suffering. She leered at the naked, glistening body hanging before her. “The documents, Fraulein Fuchs. Where are they?” Stone cold and impassive, Andrea continued the interrogation. Ursula just shook her head in resignation. Andrea grabbed the handle of the pipe scrubber, which still protruded lewdly from between Ursula’s spread thighs, and twisted it. Another cry of distress escaped Ursula’s lips and more blood leaked from her vagina, but her resolve remained.
“Very well,” Andrea sighed, revealing a hint of frustration. She nodded to the three brutes in their leather aprons. Each picked a new iron from the brazier. “Gentlemen, your canvas awaits you.” Andrea pinched Ursula’s remaining nipple between her thumb and forefinger. “This, for instance, requires some attention.” Once again the trio approached their captive ...
“Oh god... you bastards... you fucking bastards!” Ursula’s curses fell on deaf ears... but still, she did not talk.
* * * * *
An hour later, the “canvas” of Ursula’s body was covered with dozens of grisly burns of various shapes and sizes. None of the irons had gone unused during Andrea’s relentless interrogation. Again and again, Ursula’s smooth flesh had been incinerated by the inexorable heat, each application leaving her screaming for mercy. Few parts of her anatomy were spared The second nipple had been obliterated long ago, and previously unmarked parts of her back, legs, arms, and, of course, her ample chest had become targets of the men's attacks on her. Andrea had spared only her head and neck, thinking their destruction would crush any hope the woman still had. And hope was all that kept Ursula alive at this point – a fleeting hope that her tormentors would eventually give up their efforts and accept her terms.
“She must break! She will! But she knows we will not kill her, so she has that one advantage.” Andrea stood confidently in front of the seated Chernin, legs apart, arms folded under her breasts, her lithe body glistening with sweat. Behind her, now for the fourth time, the Major’s men poured buckets of freezing salt water over Ursula to revive her.
“Perhaps you are enjoying yourself a little too much, Agent Noraskaya. I suggest you do not lose sight of your objective.” As Ursula’s defiant curses signaled she had rallied once again, he motioned for Andrea to continue. “Fortunately for you, you were correct about this woman’s stamina. She is a strong one.”
Andrea returned to her badly scarred subject and smashed her fist into Ursula’s solar plexus, leaving her captive gasping for air. “You think you can hold out. But you’re wrong. Every woman has her limits, and you are no different.” Andrea grabbed the handle of the pipe scrubber still stuffed in Ursula’s sex, turning it slightly until she began to moan. Slowly Andrea pulled downward, dragging the stiff wire bristles through the blonde’s ravaged sex. Ursula’s moans quickly rose to an ear-splitting scream.
At last, Andrea pulled the scrubber free. The wire brush was covered with the bloody remnants of Ursula’s vaginal lining. Andrea lifted the gruesome viscera to Ursula’s face and pressed the gory mass to her lips. “As you can see, there are things I can do to you that are worse than death.”
“Bitch!” Ursula spat defiantly. “There is nothing else you can do to me.” Immediately, she regretted her choice of words. Challenging her abuser clearly was not a wise decision.
Andrea did not respond. She dropped the bloody brush and took a pair of tongs from one of Chernin’s men. At the brazier, she pulled one of the irons from the coals. It was over two feet long, thin and tapered to a sharp point at one end, not unlike a white-hot spear. Returning to her victim, Andrea raised the iron, sharp end outward, pressing the tip against the outside of Ursula’s left breast. Ursula writhed in her bonds, but could not evade this latest assault. The fiery tip pierced her flesh, sending a surge of agony into her sensitive breast. “Fuck nooo!” she screamed.
“The documents! Tell me where they are and at least you might save these tits of yours.” Andrea waited until she was certain Ursula would not reply, leaving her with no alternative but to carry out her threat. Slowly, Andrea plunged the searing metal into Ursula’s breast, impaling it lengthwise until the tip emerged in a smoky haze at her cleavage. Ursula’s anguished howls echoed throughout the warehouse.
Andrea paused for a moment, then continued to thrust the iron forward, puncturing the blonde’s right breast until the spear pushed through the far side of Ursula’s bosom. Blood poured from Ursula’s impaled tits. Her screaming suddenly stopped and her eyes rolled back. Her head fell forward onto her chest as consciousness left her once again.
For a moment, Andrea feared she had gone too far. She looked at Chernin, who stared back impassively. Andrea knew that her own survival depended upon Fuchs' survival, at least until she talked. Andrea felt for a pulse, and, to her relief, found that Ursula was still alive.
“But are you absolutely certain Baum is still working for the KGB?” Major Knox had listened carefully as Gerber explained the details of the abortive mission to bring in Fuchs. Gerber hated calling his superior with bad news, and this was worse than usual. Not only had they lost the opportunity to snare a rogue operative and seize the information she planned to sell to the East, but he had been played for a fool by an agent he had claimed had been successfully turned.
“What was her motivation to turn back... or ... had she never turned at all?” To Gerber’s surprise, Knox contained his wrath and focused on trying to fix the situation as best they could. But he knew that repercussions would certainly follow in the future – for Eberhart and Klammer, as well as for himself.
“It appears she never turned at all. We have a video that seems to reveal that Baum’s allegiances have always been with the East. It seems there was a great deal we did not know about Baum... or Noraskaya... or whoever she really is.”
“How bad is it for us?” Knox asked the question Gerber did not want to answer.
“Baum has likely taken Fuchs behind the wall. We don’t think that Fuchs would be stupid enough to carry the documents with her since they were her only bargaining chip. She probably stashed them until the East met her conditions. Which is good for us, but not good at all for her. The KGB is not known for bargaining with independent operators. I expect that Fraulein Fuchs will be offered neither money nor sanctuary, but, at most, a chance to keep her tits. So, even if she doesn’t have the documents, the KGB will find out where she hid them soon. Fuchs is no match for them.”
“Do we have anyone on the inside? Someone who could find out the documents’ location when Fuchs cracks?”
“No,” said Gerber. “Since Baum lied to us, we can't even be sure which branch Fuchs works for.”
Knox paused for an uncomfortably long time. “So how long our most sensitive military secrets will remain confidential depends on how long an ex-stripper defective is able to resist a KGB interrogation? Captain, is there any hope that this Fuchs woman will not break?”
“None. The KGB will tear all she knows from her... before rewarding her with an agonizing death.”
On Andrea’s command, the still unconscious Ursula had been untied and dropped to the ground. Her legs were released from the chains holding them to the floor and Chernin’s men dragged her limp body to a large wooden table on which she was stretched on her back, her arms drawn wide overhead and tied to the corners by her wrists. At the other end of the table, her legs were bent over the edge at her knees and drawn apart, her ankles lashed to the table legs. A rope was tightly looped around her waist and secured to the sides of the table.
Chernin approached for a closer look. He ran his fingers across Ursula’s abdomen and over her breasts. Her skin was slick with sweat and blood; her flesh maimed by the disfiguring burns. The spiked iron was left thrust through her chest, perforating her buxom tits. Chernin touched it and quickly pulled his hand away. “Shit! That’s still hot.”
““It takes quite some time for the iron to cool,” said Andrea. “The nerves in her breasts are being ravaged by the searing heat. It’s too bad she cannot feel it – all that pain going to waste. But we will have her back with us shortly.”
Chernin’s hand moved to the gory remnants of Ursula’s pubic area. He pulled a piece of bloody tissue from her torn labia to reveal her shredded vagina. “It’s quite sad, actually. She was exceptionally beautiful. She could have served us in many other ways, but she chose to let herself be destroyed instead.”
Andrea seemed impatient to continue and motioned for two of Chernin’s men to approach. One carried a hollow, glass tube more than a yard long and two inches in diameter. The other held a drug kit with an assortment of syringes.
“Revive her!” Andrea commanded. A few of the men lifted the buckets of ice water. Andrea shook her head. “No. She is too far gone for that.” She pointed to the drug kit. “The Cordrazine ... a triple dose.” The man nodded and filled one of the syringes with the powerful stimulant. He pushed the needle into Ursula’s chest, injecting the drug directly into her heart.
Seconds later, the blonde convulsed and regained consciousness. The pain from the scorching iron inflamed her breasts, intensified by the agony from the burns covering her body. With the stimulant coursing through her veins, Ursula was no longer allowed the luxury of unconsciousness. Nude and lashed to the table, she would have no choice but to endure whatever new horrors Andrea had in store for her.
“By now, you must know we will not meet your demands. So, until you talk, and you will talk, we shall continue. You have resisted the irons, but there are many other ways to extort your cooperation. For instance, there is this ...”
Andrea pointed to a 55 gallon drum standing a few yards away. She nodded at another of Chernin’s men. “Show our guest one of the barrel’s inhabitants.” Clearly not pleased with the task, the man looked into the drum, which was open and about three-quarters filled with water. Biding his time, he suddenly plunged his hands into the water, and, after a moment of splashing, withdrew a snake more than two feet long. It was grey with bluish bands and sported an odd, paddle-like tail. The man held the squirming reptile in front of Ursula, who tried in vain to turn away from it.
Andrea revelled in the woman’s obvious terror. “This is a beaked sea snake, sometimes referred to as a common sea snake. But it is far from common. Its venom is four times as deadly as that of a cobra, making it one of the most toxic snakes on the planet. It is also among the most aggressive.”
“Go to hell.” Ursula spat at Andrea. “If you think a snake bite will get me to talk after what you’ve already done to me, you’re dreaming.”
“I don’t think that you understand,” Andrea laughed. “You are right... you will be bitten. But from the inside!” Andrea took the long glass tube from the man holding it and positioned one end against Ursula’s mangled sex. With little effort, she pushed the tube into the bloody opening until about six inches of glass had been inserted. Ursula’s eyes went wide and she cried out in protest.
Andrea grinned. “I’m sure you now understand why this procedure is so effective.” The man with the sea snake held its head against the exposed opening of the tube and slowly guided it inside the glass tunnel. “As the tube is too small to allow it to turn around, the snake has little choice but to slither along the cylinder. But it won’t mind because, as a tropical creature, it will seek out a moist, warm place to nestle. Your womb will provide the ideal location. Did I mention the beaked sea snake can survive up to eight hours without oxygen?”
“Fuck... Nooooo... Please!” Ursula struggled against her bonds, and pleaded with her tormentor. She could not see the snake as it quickly slid down the tube and entered her. Only when it had passed entirely through the six inches of glass buried in her pussy could she feel its slimy head push deep inside her. Consumed by dread, she desperately wanted to scream her submission, to give in to this loathsome woman at last... anything to have her pull the monster out.
“Talk, bitch!” Andrea pulled the tube out of Ursula’s vagina, leaving only a few inches of the snake’s flat tail exposed.
“Nooo... never...” Ursula gasped. She gurgled and vomited as she felt the snake wriggle into her womb, pressing against the walls of her uterus to make more room in its new home. Andrea watched the snake’s tail vanish inside the remains of Ursula’s pussy.
“You fool,” she said, shaking her head.
Ursula writhed in paroxysms of anguish. This simply couldn’t be real, she thought. But she could not ignore the hideous sensation of the reptilian intruder twisting about in her uterus, making a mockery of what little remained of her womanhood. She let out a series of disgusted grunts and fought futilely against the ropes securing her.
Andrea knew that Ursula was almost beaten, and decided to hasten the process. She took the now empty syringe used earlier to inject Ursula with stimulant and held it over the woman’s lower abdomen. As the snake writhed inside her, Ursula’s skin crept visibly whenever the creature pushed upwards. Watching closely, Andrea waited for the next indication that the snake was close to the surface, then plunged the two inch long needle through Ursula’s flesh in order to prick the beast.
Ursula yelped, and a second later the enraged snake lunged inside her, sinking its fangs into her uterine lining. Ursula let out a much louder scream. Realizing what had happened, she looked up at Andrea, her eyes filled with terror. “You insane bitch! You said that thing was venomous!”
“That’s right,” said Andrea, looking at her watch. “I figure you’ll be dead in 40 minutes ... unless I administer the antidote.” She drew another vial from the drug kit and filled a fresh syringe. “If I inject you with this, you will most likely recover. Now where are the documents?”
“You’re crazy... I won’t tell you. You won’t kill me if you haven’t got the information, so you’ll give me that antidote either way.”
“Perhaps. Or perhaps I’ll just declare you the winner. The dead winner. But there’s one more thing you should know. Along with being incredibly toxic, the beaked sea snake’s venom is extremely painful. Without the antidote, the next 40 minutes will feel like a lifetime of agony to you, so intense that you will view death as a salvation.”
Andrea saw Ursula’s skin move and thrust the empty needle into her again. The tip nicked the snake, and once more it fiercely tore into her womb. “Oh... god... please stop! It’s pointless... Just free me and you’ll have what you want!”
“Wrong answer.” Andrea buried the syringe into Ursula’s abdomen a third time, leading to yet another ghastly snake bite. “That should be enough for now. In less than a minute, the tingling sensation that you’re now already experiencing will feel like thousands of skewers thrust into your flesh. The pain will be intolerable after five minutes. And, after that, there will be another five minutes ... and another ... and another. At which point you will be only half way through your ordeal.”
Ursula gritted her teeth, already beginning to feel the effects of the snake venom. “You ... will... fail!” As the first major surge of pain overwhelmed her, she let out a high-pitched wail of anguish. Andrea amused herself by inducing the snake to bite the blonde’s womb a fourth time.
* * * * *
After fifteen minutes, Ursula’s screams and struggles had diminished considerably. Her skin had turned pallid and her body shuddered as the poison surged through her bloodstream. The intense and relentless pain drained her energy until all she could do was gasp and moan despondently. Talking required extreme effort and her voice soon was no more than a barely audible whisper. “D... don’t k... kill me... please.”
“You’ll have to do better than that if you want to live,” sneered Andrea. She stood over her helplessly splayed victim holding the antidote-filled syringe in front of her eyes, tantalizing her with the prospect of survival.
“B... but you will kill... kill me anyway...” Ursula’s eyes began to glaze over and she started foaming at the mouth. Andrea knew there was very little time.
“The pain will stop. Isn’t that all you want?”
Ursula shivered, then stammered slowly and breathlessly. “Leopoldstrasse 19... Room 31... S... safe. Combination is 17... 42 ...56. Brown leather s... satchel.” She tensed suddenly as a wave of pain coursed through her body. “Now ... please ... the... the antidote. I beg you!”
Andrea turned to Chernin. “The bitch cracked,” she announced proudly, then relayed the information. Chernin immediately went to his office to place a call. Ursula looked pleadingly at her interrogator, her expression a mask of terror as she watched Andrea place the syringe back in the drug kit. “Sorry slut, but you of all people should know not to trust anyone. This anti-venom costs over 500 marks for a single dose. You didn’t really think we would waste it on a worthless whore like you?”
“Nooo... you can’t... you can’t let me suffer... not like this.”
“But I can. And I will. In fact, I’ll let you in on a little secret – I get turned on watching you suffer!” Andrea grinned, revelling in Ursula’s total subjugation. She picked up a knife and held it over Ursula’s belly. “But I do have some pity for that poor snake.” Andrea sliced the knife across Ursula’s lower abdomen, careful not to cut so deeply as to injure the beast. The blonde’s flesh parted cleanly, leaving a six inch wide incision just below her navel. It quickly welled up with blood which spewed over Ursula’s midsection and onto the table.
Andrea pulled the gash apart, ripping the tissue of Ursula’s uterus until it was open to the outside. The blood-covered snake, eager to exit its new home, emerged from its host. It slithered across Ursula’s belly and through the canyon between her breasts, squeezing under the iron bar that impaled them. Growing thickest at its mid-point, the snake’s body was too broad to push through the narrow space between the bar and the woman’s sternum. It became lodged in Ursula’s cleavage and thrashed about wildly in efforts to free itself, biting the hapless blonde repeatedly on the neck and face.
Too exhausted to scream and no longer able to move, Ursula could only look on in horror as she was continuously assaulted by the crazed serpent. As consciousness gradually gave way to all-consuming agony, she watched Andrea reach between her own legs and pleasure herself as she enjoyed the degenerate display. Andrea moaned in orgasmic fervour and Ursula realized her final act in life would be to satisfy the sexual desires of this perverted witch.
Spent from her climax, Andrea at last released the trapped snake by pulling the now cool iron from Ursula’s perforated breasts. The extreme heat had cauterized her flesh, leaving almost no blood to spill from the wounds. The snake flopped to the floor, only to be recaptured by one of Chernin’s men who returned it to the metal drum.
The interrogation was over. As Ursula’s body continued to convulse, the men placed bets on how long it would take her to die. After all, Andrea’s 40 minutes was only an estimate. But in time, even this didn’t matter anymore. Though the blonde’s body tensed and shook, her mind had already been destroyed by the overwhelming pain of the poison. She was no more than an animated corpse jerking about by involuntary nervous spasms. When at last her final quivers ceased, no one bothered to determine who had won the bet.
Andrea entered Chernin’s office and was surprised to find him in a surly mood. “What’s wrong, Major? My interrogation of Fraulein Fuchs was successful. We will soon have the documents.” She stood across from his desk, facing him.
“ Yes... it was. And I have alerted an operative in the West, one familiar with this affair. She will retrieve the documents if they are where Fuchs indicated.”
Andrea was surprised to hear someone else – apparently a woman – had been brought in so quickly in the West. Andrea had acted promptly, leaving the KGB little time to involve anyone other than herself. She had anticipated that she would be given her passport and allowed to leave before the documents were found and verified. After all, originally Andrea had offered only to bring in Fuchs, not interrogate her or endorse her claims.
“Major, I have completed my duties.” Andrea spoke with assurance, “So might I again request the passport?”
“Agent Noraskaya, I have duly noted your request, but when and if it will be granted is my decision alone.” Chernin’s words sent a chill up her spine. Somehow Andrea had lost all her leverage. Her freedom rested entirely in Chernin’s hands. Despite her best efforts to demonstrate her allegiance to the East, it was obvious the major did not trust her.
Andrea tried not to sound disheartened. “But if I return to the West, I will be killed. You have Fuchs and you will soon have the documents. What else do you want from me?”
Andrea shuddered. “An explanation for what?”
“This,” Chernin said coldly. From under his desk he retrieved Nina Strom’s attaché case. The one containing a million marks of the East’s money. The one Andrea thought she had carefully hidden in the crate of cigarette cartons. The one she had said was taken by Nina’s supposed killers. Chernin placed it on the desk and glared at her.
Andrea went pale, her plan to escape undone in an instant. “Agent Noraskaya, all that time you have been spending with your new Western friends has made you as soft and stupid as they are. You don’t really think we would release this much money in a high-risk operation without keeping tabs on it, do you?”
“A tracer signal...” The realization hit Andrea like a shot.
“Yes. There is a tracking device hidden in the case. A new technology we stole from the Americans. Something called global positioning. We have known the exact location of the money since we first entrusted it to Strom. We know it was taken to Western Intelligence headquarters, which confirms your story. But how did this case get to the Hotel Adler, and ultimately inside a crate in the warehouse which conceals the Western portal to Tunnel 9, the very route you used to bring the Fuchs woman to us?”
Andrea stood speechless. Chernin saw the fear in her eyes. The fact that she said nothing in her defence was all the evidence he needed.
“Since you are unwilling to provide an explanation, let me speculate. As we have long suspected, you turned on us and have been working for Western Intelligence. Sure, the last time you were here you had to do our bidding, but only to maintain your cover. Ironic that you were forced to kill one of its chief operatives in the East, wasn’t it? I’ll bet they didn’t like that.” Andrea could feel her body tense.
Chernin continued, “You killed Strom for W.I. after learning the details of her rendezvous with Fuchs. They set you up to complete the transfer, leaving you to impersonate Strom and giving you the money to convince her. At some point you realized that neither side ever trusts a double agent. You figured your best option was to keep the money for yourself and sell Fuchs to us. In return, we give you a passport. The West believes we have either killed you or given you a desk job in Siberia, and you are free and rich instead of wondering which side is going to send an assassin to dispatch you. How am I doing?”
“I didn’t kill her,” said Andrea weakly. “Nina is ... Agent Strom is still alive.”
“That hardly matters. If she’s not dead at this point, she might as well be. But I’ve got everything else right, don’t I?”
Andrea looked up and returned Chernin’s stare. “Yes.” And with one word she knew she had sealed her own doom.
Chernin called two of his men to his office. One grabbed Andrea’s arms and pulled them behind her back, forcing her body to arch forward . Chernin stepped out from behind his desk and moved in front of her until his groin pushed into her belly. She could feel he was hard, aroused by her anxiety and the anticipation of what would soon befall her.
Andrea twisted in the man’s grasp. Just ten minutes earlier she had felt in control, relentlessly crushing Ursula Fuchs while seducing Chernin and his men with her near naked body and her sado-erotic interrogation. She had exposed herself to them, and now they had exposed her. It had all been a sham. Even before she arrived at the warehouse, Chernin and his men knew of her duplicity.
“So why the charade?” Andrea asked. “Why make me interrogate Fuchs when these Neanderthals could have handled the job on their own?”
Chernin leaned forward, his face inches from hers. “Your previous performance was so stimulating, I was eager to see you demonstrate your skills one more time... before your, er... retirement. Oh, yes. You told me you wish to retire... and I’ve decided to grant your request. Unfortunately for you, your retirement may not be as carefree as you imagined. Oh, and don't say that I don't keep my word. Here is your passport, just as I promised." He slid it under the side of her panties. Chernin grinned broadly as the two other men laughed. Andrea felt her anger rise.
“You fucking pig!” Andrea spat directly in Chernin’s face. Reflexively, he reacted by punching her in the stomach. She gasped and bent forward before being pulled upright by the man behind her.
“Now don’t be like that,” Chernin said, regaining his composure. “You did get the bitch to tell us where she hid the documents. I’d say it was a very professional and creative interrogation. Who knows if my men would have done as well.” Chernin ran his hands over Andrea’s body. “And they certainly could not have made the proceedings as arousing as you did.” His right hand wandered to the front clasp of Andrea’s bra. He hooked his index finger under it and pulled forward, slowly stretching the flimsy garment away from her chest until it snapped open, exposing her breasts.
Andrea struggled against the man restraining her. “All right... I admit it. When my cover was compromised, I was forced to spy for the West. They would have killed me otherwise...”
“Yet somehow, the other two agents were able to resist.”
“And both are dead now. So what good did they do you. I spied for the West until I had my opening. And I used the opportunity to our advantage as best I could. I have uncovered a great deal for you, Major – and no Eastern intelligence has been compromised. I was still working for you, but I had severe limitations. If I slipped up in the end, it was because I thought you no longer trusted me. And I was right.”
“I must admit your efforts have proven to be quite beneficial for us, Agent Noraskaya, yet I suspect they were motivated more by your own self interest than loyalty to the East. But that hardly matters at this point. As you yourself admitted just a few moments ago, there is little else you can do for us now. The West knows who you are, and, after your involvement with them, not to mention your attempt to deceive us, you are correct that we no longer trust you.” Chernin cupped his hands over Andrea’s naked breasts and squeezed them. She winced. “Then again, maybe I am being a little too harsh. Perhaps there is one more purpose you can serve for us.”
Andrea felt her heart racing. “Asshole!” Chernin smashed her across the face, first left, then right. He tore off her tiny black panties, leaving her nude except for her heels. Her passport dropped to the floor.
“You are making it very easy for me to deal with you. Your impertinence and your mercenary ways are Capitalist attributes that underscore your treachery. So your punishment should be exceptionally severe. Even if you were coerced into spying for the West – and I strongly doubt that is true – you deserve to be chastised for your incompetence. Had you simply transferred the money to another case, you might not be facing the unpleasantness you do now.”
Andrea hung her head in defeat. Her carelessness had sealed her fate. She offered no resistance as the two men pulled her back into the warehouse’s main chamber, the scene of so many abominable tortures, several of the most recent that she herself had conducted. But now it was her turn.
* * * * *
Chernin followed the two men as they dragged Andrea to the table where Ursula’s lifeless body remained. He signalled the others to him. “Gentlemen, you have worked hard for me, and here is your reward: our own Agent Noraskaya, who we know is a traitor to our cause and deserves no more mercy than she showed the other traitors. Tie this double-crossing slut face down on top of the blonde’s carcass. I want to make sure she always is aware how close death is.”
“No!” screamed Andrea. She struggled against her captors as they pulled her prostrate across the dead woman. The men pushed her down, roughly crushing her breasts against Ursula’s. Her arms were wrapped tightly around the blonde’s neck and tied in place, forcing her into a humiliating coital embrace. Andrea gagged and tried to turn away as her face was pressed against the fear-frozen features of the woman she had killed. The sweat-soaked skin of her chest, abdomen and thighs rubbed against the pallid, cooling flesh of the corpse. It was revoltingly grotesque, but Andrea could do little to fend off the nine men securing her. Soon she was snugly strapped to Ursula’s body, her sex spread wide as her legs extended beyond the foot of the table.
Chernin nodded. “Ravage her... and do not be gentle.” The second order was unnecessary, but he wanted Andrea to hear it. For her self-serving treachery, her ordeal would be as cruel and drawn out as possible. Chernin wanted her to know this, even before it became a reality.
The men quickly lined up in anticipation of defiling the lovely agent. One of the more generously endowed among them was first to take his turn and wasted no time brutally penetrating Andrea with a single thrust. Her tanned, sweat-soaked body wobbled luridly, squeezing more tightly against Ursula’s lifeless torso as each man mounted her. One after another they violated her, orally, vaginally or anally as they chose. All the while Chernin watched, every now and then reminding his men to take their time.
“Are you absolutely sure?” Eberhart was incredulous, but there was no reason to doubt Lena. She had called him on a scrambled line to minimize the surveillance risk, but were it not this urgent, he knew she would have waited to return to headquarters. “The woman you observed is Sascha Busch?”
“I can only say that it is very probable.” Lena was calling from a public phone in the Volkspark Jungfernheide, the park Andrea had said was a favoured rendezvous location of her KGB handler. “We know that Andrea’s former contact manages several agents in the West, so I took a chance and staked out this place for the past few weeks, hoping he might connect with someone else. Today I got lucky. He showed up wearing the usual poor disguise and met a young woman. As expected, they were in an open area, so I couldn’t set up any recording equipment. However, I did listen in on the last part of their conversation using the shotgun microphone in my handbag.”
“It’s good to see you have not lost your field operations skills,” said Eberhart. He was pleased that Lena had uncovered a break just when they needed it most, even if he didn’t understand why she would undertake such a questionable pursuit on her own. “What did you learn?”
“The handler referred to the woman as Agent Busch on several occasions, and it appears her mission is to retrieve the documents hidden by Ursula Fuchs.”
“Which confirms Baum delivered Fuchs to the Communists,” added Eberhart, “and that the KGB has already broken the bitch.”
“Apparently so. Busch has been instructed to verify the existence of the documents when she finds them. She was told not to deliver them across the wall, but to guard them at the ‘usual safe house’ until another KGB agent picks them up within twenty-four hours. Unfortunately, her handler was careful enough to pass the location of the documents to Busch on paper, which she of course destroyed after reading. As for the safe house, it is evidently known to Busch, but not to us.”
“Then we must track this woman to her destination.” Eberhart stated the obvious. “I assume you are tailing her now?”
“Yes. Her contact left five minutes ago, and she is still sitting on a bench by the pond. With luck, she will lead me to the information when she leaves.” Lena paused for a moment, then continued. “Lieutenant, you realize that if Baum and Busch shared the same handler, then we were wrong about them being in separate divisions.”
“Yes, that had occurred to me.”
“Which means Agent Baum would have been aware of Busch’s identity and activity in the West. It makes me wonder what other crucial information she withheld from us.”
Eberhart sighed. “Clearly Andrea Baum never turned. She was playing us from the beginning. As a result, any intelligence she provided us is suspect. As for what she withheld from us... all I can say is that we made a grave mistake when we trusted her. We should have handed her over to Metzger along with Vogel. It would have saved me a lot of grief.”
“It would have saved both of us a lot of grief,” said Lena, trying not to sound bitter. “You’re not the only one she betrayed and screwed over.”
“I suppose that is true.” Eberhart didn’t know what Lena was referring to, but he did know that he was not the only victim of Andrea’s duplicity. “It’s a pity we don’t get any do-overs in this business.”
“You never know, Lieutenant. It’s odd how sometimes things play out in one’s favour. For instance, it looks like we may yet recover the Fuchs documents.”
“If we do, there will be a commendation waiting for you Lieutenant Klammer.”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” said Lena. Her voice rose slightly. “I need to go now. The Busch is on the move.” Lena hung up and Eberhart crossed his fingers.
For more than two hours Andrea endured the incessant violation of her body by Chernin’s savage louts until their semen dripped from her vagina, anus and mouth. More than once she had almost choked to death as her assailants rammed themselves down her throat and ejaculated into her gullet.
After the first hour, they had pulled her off the dead woman. They removed the cadaver from the table and flipped Andrea onto her back, binding her just as Ursula had been previously. Andrea was thankful that she was no longer forced to embrace a corpse, but her tormentors were anything but merciful. With their captive lying face up, they could now access previously untouched regions of her still luscious body.
Chernin chose not to participate in Andrea’s desecration. Instead, he waited expectantly in his office for confirmation that the documents had been recovered. He trusted that Andrea’s sexual degradation would not only boost his men’s morale, it would help wear her down for her final reckoning, a fate he was still contemplating. For now, he was more concerned with getting Fuchs' documents. If all went well, that would lead to his long-awaited promotion to Colonel. Without the documents, Andrea’s death would afford him nothing.
When at last the phone rang, the female caller’s voice was muted. “Someone got there ahead of us. The safe at the Leopoldstrasse address was open... whatever was inside is gone.”
Chernin’s heart sank. “How can that be? The wrong location perhaps. Maybe Fuchs was lying.”
“No. The location checks out, as does the combination to the safe. Fuchs must have told someone else, and that person got here first. I must go.” Chernin heard the click at the other end of the phone.
It was the only plausible explanation, but it still made no sense to him. Fuchs would never have revealed where she hid the documents to anyone in the West. That would have undermined her entire scheme. Nonetheless, Chernin had to assume that Western Intelligence somehow had discovered the location of the information and retrieved it. There was nothing else he could do. The opportunity had been lost.
Chernin returned to the main chamber of the warehouse. His men, naked and exhausted, had satisfied themselves sexually and now were using their bare fists to release still further aggression on their helpless captive. Loud, fleshy thumps combined with Andrea’s pitiful cries echoed throughout the warehouse. Chernin paused for a few minutes to revel in the suffering of the treacherous agent. Her torture of Ursula did nothing more than waste his time. It was time for her to pay the final price.
He motioned his men away from the table and walked up to their brutalized victim. Andrea’s skin was coated with sweat and the men’s bodily fluids. From the neck down she was covered with bruises and blood. She looked up at him, her eyes still defiant despite her ordeal. Chernin could not conceal his obvious arousal.
“You fucking animal!” Andrea shouted at him. “Why don’t you pull it out and jack off while you kill me? I’m sure it would add to your performance!”
“I must admit, seeing you like this... so vulnerable and so ... defeated ... is most stimulating. As someone who has caused me a great deal of trouble, you will provide me with some amusement before you die, just not the kind you suggest.”
“Prick. You know I don’t deserve this. I’ve always been loyal. I was the one who got you the documents!”
Chernin laughed. “Actually, I just learned that the information you coerced from Fraulein Fuchs proved to be worthless. There were no documents in the safe. It was empty.”
“Why would I admit my own failure unless it were true? Fortunately, I will not have to admit it much longer, as ultimately, the failure will be yours, Agent Noraskaya. As for your loyalties, they are obviously divided – a fact that seals your fate, and one that I intend to impress on you while you are still alive.” From the rack of torture implements, Chernin picked up what Andrea first thought was a long thin screwdriver with a plastic handle attached to a six inch metal prong. Unlike a screwdriver, though, an electric cord emerged from the top of the handle.
Chernin plugged in the cord and held the tool up for Andrea to see more clearly. The sharp tip of the metal prong quickly began to glow, first a dull red, then orangish-yellow, then white hot. “Yes,” said Chernin. “It is a soldering iron. Perhaps not the ideal instrument for what I have in mind, but it will do the job. Unfortunately, the tip burns at 400 degrees, so I’m afraid this may not be all that pleasant for you. Then again, I don’t recall you showing much concern when you branded Fraulein Fuchs.”
Andrea screamed as Chernin lowered the iron and pushed the tip against the upper left surface of her left breast. Her moist skin sizzled and a small plume of white smoke wafted upwards. Tears welled up in her eyes as Andrea fought against the pain. She did not want to give Chernin the satisfaction of reacting to his abuse. Andrea bit her lip and writhed in her bonds, but after her initial cry of pain, she refused to utter a sound.
Chernin did not care. He was too engrossed in burning the soft skin of Andrea’s breast to appreciate her silence, although it did make his task easier. Andrea had a moment’s respite as Chernin briefly raised the iron, but he quickly moved it to a new position and continued dragging it across her flesh. After several minutes of tracing the hot iron over Andrea’s left breast, Chernin started on her right, again charring the surface tissue in short, deliberate strokes.
When he was finished, Chernin grabbed her by the hair and pulled her head forward so she could see the results of his efforts. As the last puffs of smoke cleared, Andrea strained her eyes to see that across her right breast Chernin had burned the word “WEST” in her pale skin, on her left the word “EAST”.
“You see...” he said, smiling, “divided loyalties.”
“You bastard.” It was all Andrea could do to exhale a breathy curse. She was too exhausted to shout in anger. Chernin raised his fist and smashed it across Andrea’s face, instantly knocking her unconscious. He turned to his men and motioned for them to untie her.
“I think she understands the verdict. Now it’s time to kill the bitch.”
“Her lips are a bit fuller, and her hair is not quite so short, but otherwise that’s a pretty good likeness.” Lena looked over the sketch artist’s shoulder as he put the final touches on his interpretation of Sascha Busch. He held it up so Eberhart and Gerber could see. [see Sascha pic] The drawing was based solely on Lena’s description, and although she said she had never come closer than fifty yards to the woman, both men knew Lena was an astute observer. This was fortunate, as at this point the sketch was all they had to help them find Busch and the documents.
His work finished, the artist left the headquarters meeting room, allowing Gerber and Eberhart to continue Lena’s debriefing. “At least we know what she looks like,” said Eberhart, ever the optimist.
“Which hardly helps us if we don't know where she is.” Gerber sighed audibly. He wondered if his luck could possibly get any worse. After the Andrea Baum debacle, he knew his job was hanging by a thread. Major Schmitt had already been removed for his part in hiring Ursula Fuchs, but instead of being promoted to Schmitt’s job, Gerber was fighting to keep the position he already had. Locating the stolen documents was his last chance to restore his credibility and now that opportunity was dwindling fast.
“Tell us again where you lost her,” Eberhart said.
“I was tailing her through the Lichtenberg district, heading south.” Lena patiently repeated what she had already told him. “After the Highway 5 overpass, she crossed the S-Bahn tracks just before a train passed by. The road was blocked for five minutes. There was nothing I could do.”
“It’s not your fault,” Eberhart reassured her. “If you hadn’t gambled on a long shot, we wouldn’t have located her at all. Frankly, I was beginning to doubt Sascha Busch even existed. Now we know she’s real and we know what she’s up to.”
“She could be anywhere in the city,” said Gerber. “Without information to help us pinpoint the location of this safe house, we are no better off than we were before Lieutenant Klammer identified Busch. Do we know anyone else who associated with this woman or her KGB handler?”
“Other than Andrea Baum, no. It seems we were wrong in assuming that she and Busch worked apart. In fact, since Baum was responsible for snatching Fuchs and most probably for her interrogation, it’s not surprising that Busch has been put in charge of finding the documents.”
“So if we had Baum, we’d be able to find Busch and the safe house?”
“If we had Baum,” said Eberhart, “we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
“I swear... trying to turn that bitch was the dumbest idea we’ve ever had.” Gerber smashed his fist on the table. “If the two of you hadn’t been so damned supportive of her, I would have beat the truth out of Baum long ago. At least you're not still sticking up for her.
Lena tried to calm him, “Two months ago we didn’t know what we do now. Things have changed. We all were taken in by her... me most of all. But now, if given the chance – I will be first in line to ensure that Andrea Baum is suitably punished for her deceit.”
Andrea quickly regained consciousness as two buckets of freezing water splashed across her naked body. She found herself upright, hanging from the rafters, her wrists bound together and pulled overhead by a rope drawn across the beams ten feet above her. Andrea’s ankles were also tied together, the cords threaded through a fifty pound barbell to ensure her body remained tightly stretched. Her toes were a foot off the floor. Judging from the acute pain in them Andrea knew her arms and shoulders were absorbing most of the tension. She tried to bend her legs upwards but was far too weak.
Less than ten paces away, Chernin’s men had lined up side by side facing Andrea. They had dressed in full uniform, but the telltale bulges at their crotches revealed they had had time to regain their stature. Each man held an AK 47. The Major himself stood off to the side, his expression dour. Andrea knew she was facing a firing squad. This time she would be penetrated by something other than the men’s dicks. This time it would be forever. It seemed so long ago that she had saved Lena from a firing squad. But there was no chance that Lena would repay the favour now.
Andrea moaned. She did not want to die like this... stripped and helplessly bound, a pathetic captive executed as a dishonoured failure, although she knew that was what she was. Were she to die young, she had hoped to be killed in action. She wanted to be a courageous champion whose death had meaning, not a beaten victim abused and dispatched by sex starved sadists.
Yet this is what it had come to. Instead of escaping a senseless conflict she no longer cared to be part of, Andrea faced an abject, ignominious demise. She was a traitor to both sides, and a heroine to neither. There was only one comforting note to her impending fate: it would be relatively quick. But now, as her ordeal dragged on, even this shred of mercy seemed to vanish. Denied freedom in life, Andrea prayed for the freedom of death.
Chernin planned to grant her wish, but he would make sure she earned it. Andrea’s body was wracked with pain from being cruelly stretched by the weight at her ankles. Chernin could just as easily have tied her standing against a wooden post, the way the West did, but that would have been far less painful, and not nearly as entertaining.
Andrea was battered and bruised. The beating and rape she had endured at the hands of Chernin’s men compounded her agony, as did the burns across her bosom. The words etched into her chest embellished the profligate display and reminded her executioners of Andrea’s contemptible treachery. The men would feel not the slightest remorse when ordered to kill her.
To Andrea, it felt like hours as she hung motionless awaiting death. To Chernin and his men, the provocative sight of the suspended beauty was nothing short of ecstasy, and for as long as they could stand it, they hovered on the edge of climax. Yet like any impending orgasm, it demanded release. The performance had to come to a close.
But before Chernin could ordered his men to raise their rifles, an unexpected shout echoed through the warehouse. He turned quickly to its source and was startled to see a dozen soldiers march into the chamber led by Minister Dalyitch, the government official who had been monitoring Andrea’s progress during her original mission. Chernin thought the DDR had lost interest in his section’s work after Andrea had retrieved the US missile plans, but apparently Dalyitch was still involved. Chernin’s face turned red as he realized that this meant the government was aware of the Fuchs documents. It also meant he could not evade the consequences of his inability to locate them.
“Major Chernin,” Dalyitch greeted him respectfully. He did not seem angry as he looked over the scene of Andrea’s imminent execution. “We are aware that you have been unable to locate the leaked NATO intelligence stolen by Ursula Fuchs.” He pointed at Ursula’s body in the corner of the room. “Is that she?”
“Yes,” said Chernin. “We broke her, but it seems a Western operative beat us to the documents. How did you know we did not succeed? I received the news the documents were missing less than an hour ago.”
“My department was contacted as well... also less than an hour ago. It seems your counterparts in West Berlin have been equally unsuccessful at finding the Fuchs documents.”
“But how can you know that?”
“Because, Major, someone has offered to sell them to us... or more precisely, to make an exchange.”
“An exchange?” Chernin was baffled. “If not Western Intelligence, who could possibly have the information? Did Ursula Fuchs have a confederate?”
“Unlikely... but we are less concerned with the dealmaker than the deal. We have agreed to the terms and will make the exchange. Obtaining these documents is of utmost priority.”
“And what does this dealmaker want from us?”
Dalyitch paused a moment, then pointed at Andrea. “Her.”
“But the bitch serves no further purpose to anyone.” Chernin could not believe that someone would want Andrea at any price, much less the steep one of providing priceless military secrets. “Noraskaya knows nothing of the documents. And she is a traitor who likely has revealed all she knows to the West already. She even tried to steal the funds we used to lure Fuchs to the East. This woman has betrayed us on several occasions... She must be executed.”
“Not possible.” Dalyitch handed Chernin an envelope. “These papers confirm that your superiors have ordered you to release her into my custody. She will be ferried to the West, where we will trade her for the documents. As you say, she is worthless, so we are giving up nothing to make the exchange. Your need for ... vengeance is inconsequential.”
Chernin ordered his men to cut the cords suspending Andrea. Too weak to offer any resistance, she collapsed like a rag doll. One of Dalyitch’s men injected her with a narcotic and within a minute she was unconscious. Not bothering to cover her, two of the soldiers lifted Andrea’s nude body by the arms and legs and carried her out of the warehouse.
“Thank you Major, for your cooperation.” Dalyitch nodded and followed the soldiers out of the building.
Chernin felt completely frustrated and unfulfilled. He had come so close to dispatching the treacherous wench, only to have her snatched away by his own side. He could only hope that whoever wanted Andrea in exchange for the documents had an even bigger score to settle with her.
The sun had barely risen when Gerber’s car arrived at the desolate expanse of Potsdamer Platz. Before the Second World War, this part of the city had been the heart of Berlin’s night life, a busy district filled with clubs, hotels and high-end shops. Obliterated by wartime bombing, it became a rubble-strewn wasteland after being bisected by the wall. Neither side cared to reconstruct the shattered areas emerging from no-man’s land, so it remained an eyesore of interest only to morbidly curious foreigners.
Gerber ordered his driver to stop at the edge of a cordoned area surrounded by a half dozen police and military vehicles. He spotted Eberhart in a small crowd of uniformed men surveying the scene.
“Are you sure, Lieutenant? This is the last thing I would have expected.”
“See for yourself.” Eberhart pointed to a mound of crumbled concrete and other detritus. Sprawled on top of it like a discarded doll lay the battered, naked body of Andrea Baum. “I made sure no one touched anything. I’ve told the police she’s one of ours, but they insist they need clearance at your level before we can claim her.”
“Very well, I’ll speak to the officer in charge. I assume the police got here first?”
“Yes. A group of Australian tourists were wandering around at daybreak and found her. Naturally, they called the cops. Lucky for us, we’d registered Baum as a missing person, so they contacted me as soon they identified her.”
Eberhart introduced Gerber to the chief police inspector, then gingerly stepped across the rubble to get a closer look. He saw the words burned into her breasts and winced. Was she left here as some kind of warning? Or did the KGB dump her body in the West to proclaim they had the Fuchs documents? Eberhart took one last look at the gorgeous woman he had once hoped would be his protége ... even his lover. He reached down and touched her forehead to say farewell. Instantly, he pulled back his hand.
“Inspector Lang!” Eberhart called to the officer speaking with Gerber. “Has this woman been examined by a paramedic team?”
“No. One of my men gave her a quick once-over. That's all."
“Well, his assumption that she was dead ... was wrong !!”
To be concluded in CHOICE ALTERNATIVES 5