The Interventionists Ch 02

I had only just finished the department meeting when Jen phoned. Jen had been recruited straight out of Oxford university, in her mid 20s, slim and red-haired. She was bright, focused and had the makings of a capable operative. Currently attached to Harry's office on a promise that it was guaranteed fast track promotion. Jen was seriously pissed at being used as secretary and gopher for Harry and James and not yet trusted in the field.

There was only one reason for her phoning and after a couple of minutes social chat I asked, "What time am I meeting Harry, James or both?"

"Oh, so you were expecting the call? Now."

"Now?"

"Yeah, get on your bike and get your arse in here. Bye."

Jen hung up. The apartment was within walking distance to head office if you did not mind the exercise. Jen knew this fine, the 'on your bike' was just a turn of phrase. There were times when I really liked to be in the mountains with as few people around me as possible. Yet, I also liked walking through the crowded streets of London, with all the activity around and the noise from trains and busses and people. Today I tried hard to enjoy the experience yet the urgent summons seemed a little odd, even for a level 1 case assignment. I thought Jen was quieter than her usual self on the phone. What if they'd found out about Marie and me?

After entering headquarters and passing though security and placing my phone in one of the special lockers, I went to the Command floor. This was in point of fact a small area of a floor based in the lower centre of the building well away from bombs, microwaves and other eavesdropping techniques. I saw Jen, who told me to go straight to H's office.

I knocked and entered. I paused briefly mid-stride after seeing Marie sat there with James and Harry. I was only surprised there weren't two gents with Heckler & Kochs, cocked and pointing at me. Shit, shit, shit! Give nothing away. Admit nothing. Don't send me to some secret prison, please! It kinda happened. We didn't mean no harm, honest, were some of the thoughts racing though my head

Harriet's gaze bore into me. "Rab, I believe you know Marie? There is an operation that requires two operatives working together, and I thought of you two - or do you have a problem with that?"

Harry switched her gaze back and forth between Marie and myself.

"No". I said quickly. "No problem at all," Marie added.

Harry still staring hard said, "Rab, your body language spoke otherwise when you saw Marie here. If you two have 'issues' I need to know this now. What I have in mind requires you both to work together - intimately. I can't have this fucked up because you two had some falling out or bruised egos."

I cut in, "I heard Marie had been stabbed and that it was pretty serious, I did not know she was back."

Marie then assured me that it was a minor scratch - which I knew not to be the case. She was 3 days in hospital and nearly 2 months until full recovery after. However, Marie, not missing a beat, was saying what someone was expected to say to a relative stranger asking about an injury.

Harry was not totally convinced, "I say again, if you have a problem working together I can find other operatives. Don't say anything now and mess this up and you both have a major problem with me. I cannot be clearer."

"We're cool, really, truly," Marie responded. I nodded.

"If you're certain, I will continue the briefing." Harry responded. During the interaction James had sat and observed. He was by nature a man of few words, but no fool.

The briefing started with detail on target number one : Bethany Greenaway née Szabó, 31 and currently living in Greenwich. Her parents were Hungarian. Her father had been a professor of physics at Oxford before retiring and her mother a chemist. They had held research positions in Hungary during the '80s and then fallen foul of the Communist regime, perhaps because they also had been part of a group working for a democratic revolution. Luckily they were successfully smuggled out to Britain. Bethany had been born after their move to England. Her parents had chosen to live a quiet life in Oxford but not so her daughter. Beth was smart, educated, and liked thrills. Her original reason for moving to London was art school and she continued to produce some sculpture and paintings. She married Alistair Greenaway, second son of Lord Greenaway when she was 22. Alistair is bisexual, a swinger and into mild BDSM. Beth was a fast learner and the marriage broadened Beth's sexual knowledge and experience greatly. They had many lovers, together and separately. Beth soon was moving in all the high circles and they had a large apartment in Chelsea Harbour. Alistair is unkindly described as imaginative in bed but boring when out of it. He was the hunting - shooting - fishing type always going off to the family estates in Yorkshire or Scotland to kill some living thing. The two parted, apparently amicably, after less than 2 years married. She had apparently accepted a modest divorce settlement. Whether this was a pre-nup, an artist's disdain for money or that she wanted to keep moving in certain circles and did not want to be thought of as a 'gold digger' is unknown. Beth moved to a somewhat smaller and older apartment, but still in Chelsea, unfortunately with no harbour view. Beth is a known user of cannabis and cocaine, but is not thought a heavy user of any drugs.

The briefing continued with photographs passed around of a tall girl, thick blonde shoulder length hair, quite striking high boned facial features, broad shouldered, big tits, looked fit. Not the most objectionable target to get familiar with by any means I thought. There were many photos of Beth in different situations. In some she was dressed up as if for Covent Garden opera, and the opposite extreme were photos of her working on a sculpture. For the opera Beth had full makeup, hair up, lots of expensive jewellery and a red tight long dress with matching red elbow length gloves. In some she was standing next to an older man, grey hair and who looked familiar but I could not recall his name. In contrast the sculpting photo had her in dusty denim overalls cut off at the knee with only a t shirt visible beneath. She was wiping dust from her face and this photo looked by far the most sexy. There again, I always had a weakness for big sweaty women!

I refocused on the briefing. Harry was speaking.

"The first thing that caused her to register on our radar was a lot of encrypted chat between her and others - and I'm not talking about iMessage and Whats Ap. The second is that her friendship circles have graduated and now include a number of ministers and other senior politicians.

I'm sure from the photos you can imagine why politicians might be interested in knowing her better. One of those friends is our other target of interest."

Harriet paused and took a breath, "The other is Sir William Silversmith. My new boss."

So, the plot thickens! That's why the personal briefing.

Harry confirmed, stating, "You will report only to James or I in person. You will not discuss this mission with anyone, though some support staff will inevitably know you two are working together locally on an operation."

Marie and I waited silently for Harry to continue, which she did after a moment

"We have two concerns . The first is William's income sources. Whilst it is well known he inherited a small fortune, he has spent that several times over and yet money still flows into his accounts from various tax havens, regretfully the most opaque is channeled through British dependencies. A non-politician would have had an Unexplained Wealth Order slapped on him. However as a man with friends in high places and a member of parliament this was not possible. He was a Level 1 previously but a politician with income flowing from tax havens is hardly unusual so he was put back to level 2 after a few weeks. The second is his other main interest, that of big boobs, and whether in the excitement of the moment he may be indiscreet to some Ms Big Tits or other."

Marie cut in, "I don't understand why I'm here, being so modestly endowed, and given you have others more suited for his tastes."

I wanted to intervene as a gentleman to say that whilst her assets were not massive I would not describe them as modest, just perfect in fact, but that would have been a bit of a give away.

Harry, took control again, "Why do you think it's William that's your target? Initially at least, the target for you both is Beth. That's why you need to show chemistry together. Your legend which should be embedded by Wednesday is of a British couple that have established a base in France. You have an apartment in Paris, and have a ramshackle place in the Loire that you're far too modest to call a chateau. You collect art for both locations, You will both bed her, separately and together, because you don't believe in ownership of the other or monogamy - you learnt that from the French. Later when an opening comes up in William's office you, Marie, will be perfect for the role. Your not over large boobs might save you from being fucked by him but you may find that French is not the only oral skill required to stay in the job. Why am I sure a vacancy will arise? Because most women stay in the office for less than 6 months and then file a complaint about his behaviour. They then sign a NDA in return for a sweet payoff. Once established in his office you will determine who he meets and who we need to monitor."

Harry glanced at the wall clock. "I have another meeting to attend. James will fill you in with the rest and provide your legends. Go off to his office. Rab and Marie get your shit together, that's an order."

We went to James' office and were both given identical USB sticks. James explained that the sticks contained pretty much all we know about the two targets plus details of our legends.

James wrapped the meeting up quickly after that. "Go book a room where you can learn your legends and get to know each other so you can act like a couple who have been together a while. Jen has tomorrow's schedule for you both. I want to see you both tomorrow at 8:30. You will receive further instruction then."

He confirmed the meeting was over and we left. We found Jen and she took us through our schedule for tomorrow. It started with costume at 9:30, then identities, followed by property. In the afternoon we had a briefing in sculpture at Tate Modern followed by one on modern painting at the National Portrait Gallery. For that afternoon's events we had a separate legend of TV writer and producer investigating a new short documentary series for Amazon.

Afterwards we discussed with Jen ideas for hotels that were comfortable, secure and did not blow the department's budget. Marie and I would have been happy using one of our apartments but that would have been against regulations. The '5 Eyes' maintained a database of security at major hotels worldwide. Testing the security of their CCTV, internet, electronic door locking and other electronics to evaluate how easily hackable they were. A fact of life is pretty much anything can be hacked if someone / some agency has the time, resource and reason to do so. What operatives generally wanted to avoid are the hotels so insecure that other agencies might have them constantly monitored without the need of expensive resource. We settled on Black's in Islington. It was small, comfortable and at £200 a night, a virtual steal in central London. Jen booked a room with king size bed for us.

I grabbed Marie's hand in mine before leaving Jen, and said, "We need to practice holding hands now we're a couple."

Marie rolled her eyes for Jen's benefit, and hand in hand we walked across the floor. The hand holding stopped before we left Command Floor as it would have been a breach of protocol to indicate a togetherness to others in the rest of the building, and all areas were monitored by multiple cameras.

*****

Once on the street where the traffic would mask our words and with no cameras in site, Marie turned to me, saying firmly, "Christ, you came so close to blowing both our careers, Harry will certainly have us both monitored. If it's career or our relationship you know which I will go with."

"Oh so sweet to put me first." I said sarcastically. "What was I supposed to think? I was told to get my ass in to see H - walked in - then saw you sitting quietly at the desk." I added.

"It's not what you think it's what you display. You know this. Your life has depended on it before. Now let's split. I will see you at the hotel in a couple of hours."

With that comment she walked away, presumably to get things in her apartment and cool down. I returned to my apartment. In reality I needed minimal clothing however the legend said Black's was just one stay of a part business - part leisure trip so I packed to match the legend's story and added my secure laptop. As there seemed little point staying around the apartment I threw in swimming trunks planning a swim at the hotel before Marie arrived.

The hotel had been formed by knocking three very large houses together, Our room was large, expensively fitted out, but ones of those rooms that gave you no clue which continent you were in, let alone the country. I was not long back in the room after my swim when Marie arrived. She gestured with a sweeping arm and I confirmed I had swept the room for cameras and bugs by signing as well. She walked quickly over, pulled my head to hers and kissed me hard on the lips. This was followed by her pressing her body tightly against mine.

"Fuck you. I was upset and you know why. Luckily for you, there is no one I would prefer watching my back. An added benefit is that you're ok at knowing what to do with my private bits to get me gushing."

"Only your back you want me to watch is it? There are other bits that I like watching more" I retorted

Marie went down on her knees in front of me, undid my belt and trousers and pulled both trousers and briefs down. Was this makeup sex? If so, maybe I needed to piss her off more often.

"Well as we're supposed to be getting to know each other I will start with your prick Mmm I suppose it's alright. Can I make it any longer and fatter I wonder? Girls like them big - did you know?"

Marie set to work with both hands and mouth to good effect. After a moment she stopped and moved back to look at her handiwork.

"Better but is that really as big as it gets?" She asked, feigning innocence.

Two can play at the size game I thought. "Well maybe if you uncovered those boobs and brought them into use, modestly endowed though you may be, that could help?" I suggested brightly.

A firm squeeze of my balls told me to tread lightly in this game. None the less she removed her shoes, cream dress and white bra. I leaned on the bed and she removed my socks, trousers, underwear and pulled my t shirt up and over my head. I stood back up and she started with her hands and mouth again.

As well as the expert touch and suck the visual stimulation was massive. Marie was looking at me whilst at work her tits swinging wildly. After some minutes she paused and moved back slightly then straightened up a little so as to apply a titty fuck. The feeling was exquisite as she massaged my prick with her lovely soft, not modest really, tits. My prick was by them fat, red, and large. Marie stopped and put one finger on the tip of my excited prick and then to her mouth and sucked the pre-cum.

"A more satisfying size now." She said with a big smile, then added quickly, "from the back".

Marie crawled to the high bed and bent over it. I moved behind taking a second to admire the site of the firm curvy round bum covered only with the smallest slip of white cotton. Slipping my hand between her legs and moving up my forefinger came in contact with the dripping wet gusset. Throughout the last few days together we both appeared to get ever more ready for screwing each other. I was aware of my cock all day - never seeming 100% relaxed, warm, tingling a little sore from its intensive usage. Marie's cunt seemed likewise to be quickly wet and ready for action. I did not waste time removing her panties instead just moving the gusset aside and entered her very wet cunt, Sinking all the way in with one long smooth stroke. I paused and Marie used all her internal muscles to squeeze, release and squeeze again. I pulled out most of the way and cupped both breasts before driving in again. Out and in again - harder. A rhythm formed and the sex was clearly not going to last long - mind we had all night and could do the long and slow coupling later. I drove again and paused, then again - harder and again harder. Marie panted "one more time."

I drove in again and as I reached bottom we both orgasmed hard. After we got our breath back we cleaned up in the well appointed bathroom and them went back to bed falling asleep holding each other tight.

I woke up with a dead arm 45 minutes later and got up. Looking back at Marie with her hair all tangled and sticking at different angles. I smiled, remembering the time I told Marie how much I liked her thick, black, slightly curly hair when it was unruly and a bit tangled after sex - like it was right now. She acted annoyed and huffed about 'men' and how much time she spent trying to make her hair took good. That she should not bother if I did not appreciate her efforts. Secretly I think she was pleased at the idea she could still look good after a good fuck. To me there was nothing better than a woman still flushed and sweaty after a good fuck. Give me that over a woman with perfectly set hair, manicured nails, eyebrows plucked to nothing and cheeks full of God knows what funny high-priced foundation and anti-wrinkle compounds that robbed the face of all humanity.

I plugged the usb stick in the secure laptop and went through the unlocking and decryption procedures then got back into bed and started reading about our legends. I had read most of the detail when Marie awoke and asked our names.

"You are Mrs Horne, that's Horn with a silent 'E' in the end. Imagen Anne-Marie Horne to be precise or when you come to sign your name, 'I AM Horne'".

I sounded the normally silent 'e' at the end of Horne and receiving a punch in the stomach for that.

"Be serious." I was told with an attempt at a stern voice - but not a very good attempt.

"What makes it funny is that what I said is 99% true. We are Alec and Janet Anne-Marie Horne. You never liked your first name and so when in France you became known as Anne-Marie."

Marie responded, "Jen, obviously had some fun making up the legends I will have to have a word with her. I'm going for a warm long bath."

"Is it worth it? I'm just going to make you so hot and sweaty all over again."

"You men also always over-estimate your powers of recuperation. Aside from that, you've been lucky twice today already. What makes you think you're going to get lucky a third time? "

"Because you're Mrs Horney?"

"Go! Call down for some food to be served here in an hour. Then come in and tell me more about our legends. "

"Get in the bath with my computer?"

"No fool! You sit on the chair thoughtfully provided whilst I pamper myself."

*****

In that way Marie and Rab did what they had been ordered to do. For the rest of the afternoon and night repeatedly getting intimately acquainted.

In Chelsea, that very same evening, a stone's throw from the King's Road (which is no longer quite what it was - the road that is).

*****

Beth was proud of her body and did a lot to look after it. She was not one to starve herself, or even pretend to when in company, she did chose her foods carefully and exercise hard most days to keep her body looking good. Liking the desire her body could create in others, and the power that sometimes gave her. She had long got over any schoolgirl concern over her height or size of boobs. Realising that the mistake was to try and apologise for your size by attempting to look smaller. She walked with a straight back and boobs forward. She knew her boobs contributed much to the desire she saw in others at her body, whether they be men or women. Her only concession was to stay away from very high heels when in mixed company. Mens' egos tended not to like women looking down upon them.