She tugged at the starched white apron of a chateau maid, the black dress hugging every curve the war hadn't rationed. "This corset is a more effective interrogation device than a pair of pliers," she muttered, adjusting the lace collar that did nothing to conceal her primary assets. The mission was simple: infiltrate General Klaus von Hammer’s soirée, locate the D-Day invasion plans hidden in his study, and signal the incoming airstrike.
The dress sagged, revealing the edge of a lacy black bra and the pale, freckled swell of her chest. For one crucial second, Von Hammer’s gaze was locked exactly where she wanted it. She tugged at the starched white apron of
The shot was a soft phut . Von Hammer crumpled like a sack of flour, a surprised look on his face. The dress sagged, revealing the edge of a
A floorboard creaked behind her.
The game was up. But Mackenzee Pierce didn't panic. She had another weapon. Slowly, deliberately, she reached for the top button of her maid's dress. Then the next. "You want to see what I'm hiding, General?" she asked, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. Von Hammer crumpled like a sack of flour,