That the American hadn’t considered that possibility was written on her face once Svetlana finished.
“Look, I’m sorry… I just assumed… … … ” But Svetlana cut her off before she finished her sentence.
“Yes you did, didn’t you?”
Caroline half turned to leave and then stopped.
“It was you, wasn’t it… that night at the dinner party up at the house?”
“I’m sorry, but now what am I supposed to have done?”
“At the dinner table someone touched my leg; I thought either Scott or Max had allowed the wine to override their inhibitions. But when you put your hand on my leg at the roadblock… I suddenly realised that it wasn’t a hand I’d felt that night but a foot, and you were sat directly opposite me.”
The Russian seemingly ignored the statement, but continued looking levelly at the pilot before speaking.
“You don’t know Con well enough to get all defensive on his behalf, so why did you get angry tonight?”
“I just told you, I was mistaken.”
The sheets dropped down to the Russian girl’s waist as she sat upright in the bed, and although Caroline should have expected the other girl to prefer sleeping naked, she blushed anyway.
“I’ll tell you why you came here tonight Caroline, and why you got mad at me, shall I?”
Caroline looked uncomfortable but did not reply.
“You thought that someone had fucked me tonight, and because that someone wasn’t you, you got jealous.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, I’m not a… lesbian!” The rest of the house was sleeping, so the last word came out as a hiss.
Swinging her feet to the floor Svetlana walked naked to the door, drawing the American inside and closing it. Caroline had been entranced by the almost feline grace with which the Russian girl had crossed the room, so much so that she was taken by surprise, but now stepped back against the wall defensively.
“It has to be difficult for you; trying to do a job you love in what must be a very homophobic organisation?”
Caroline reached for the door but the nude Russian stepped in front of her.
“I saw it in your eyes the very first time we met.”
Caroline’s heart was beating fast but she couldn’t speak, she wanted to be gone from here before someone, someone like Patricia walked in and undid her career in the armed forces of the United States. But no one walked in and the house slept soundly on.
Svetlana stepped up until they were almost touching, and reaching up she began to unbutton the shirt.
“You mentally undressed me Caroline… and all I did at the table was to let you know that I was interested too.”
“Please don’t ‘lana.” Caroline pleaded with Svetlana but made no attempt to stop her, allowing the shirt to be slipped off her shoulders and fall to the floor. Moonbeams caressed both naked young women, the auburn haired Russian agent and the blonde USAF pilot. The former traced fingertips along the latter’s flanks before bending to take an erect pink nipple into her mouth to savour the salt taste of the other girl. Caroline trembled and gasped aloud until the Russian girl covered her mouth with her own, stifling it with a kiss filled with passion and lust. Her hands guided one of the Americans up until it cupped a breast, and Caroline moaned softly as she felt the Russian girl’s nipple harden at the touch. Svetlana raised a foot elegantly to rest, leg bent like a ballerina, against the inside of the opposite knee, and thus perfectly balanced on one foot she guided Caroline’s free hand down her flat belly, and beyond..
When the need for oxygen ended the clinch Svetlana led her by the hand to the bed.
“But what about Con?”
“Con was my Control in London, he knows about every man and every girl I ever slept with. He knows that I’m attracted to you, and knowing me as he does, that you’d probably end up in my bed sooner rather than later.”
On reaching the bed Svetlana seated her on its edge before kneeling before her.
“And this is what I was thinking about doing to you, that night at the table.” Caroline allowed her thighs to be parted before her back arched involuntarily, tossing golden locks about wildly whilst whimpering with pleasure.
The day shift found Timoskova still hard at work trying to clear the interference from the download, four hours after switching monitors and rebooting his system. He was not in the best of moods as despite his earlier optimism he was having little joy with the task. Never before had he encountered such sophisticated electronic counter surveillance, but he wasn’t beaten yet, his own apartment held superior equipment and software to that which he was currently using, and the CD was in his jacket pocket.
After noting an equipment failure in the log, giving the address of the dacha, he went home, setting his alarm clock to wake him in six hours, before going to sleep himself. He would rise early and get to work on the CD before performing the nightshift again.
The imminent arrival of Typhoon Lucinda to this area of the ocean was rather obvious on the surface, with deepening swells, rainsqualls and winds building in strength.
Below the surface it was less obvious, unless of course you worked in the sonar department and if that was the case then you had your work cut out for you.
HMAS Hooper’s Sonar Officer had undergone an exchange tour with the USN the previous year, spending six months aboard USS Seawolf on one of her cruises. Right now he was thinking wistfully of the state of the art sonar systems aboard the American vessel, as he struggled with the system aboard this vessel. They were cruising at 3 knots below the layer, whilst their tail was trailing above it as it listened for surface and sub-surface traffic; this meant that Mother Nature in a bad mood was degrading the reception.
Since reaching their patrol area they had seen not a single vessel, no smoke on the horizon, or sails either. They had seen contrails on the last ESM and visual sweep prior to transmitting a status report, which meant that the global wide cloud covering that resulted from the use of nuclear weapons in the Atlantic Ocean, was breaking up. He had felt a sense of relief as the periscope slid back down into its well, so maybe they would be spared a nuclear winter.
Twelve hours later they had been on the receiving end of communications, and their floating antennae received the daily intelligence and operational updates, along with a weather map. The weather map had told them what they would have deduced for themselves had they been a surface vessel, the glass was dropping fast.
Apart from the defective snorkel seal his boat was holding together, without anything else getting broken or bent, up to this point. It was a state of affairs that gave him peace of mind and allowed him to focus on the business at hand, but that changed a little before midnight when he was awoken by a summons to the control room.
His sonar officer was stood with the officer of the watch when he arrived, the look on the sonar officers face was one of frustration tinged with concern.
“Captain sir, sorry to disturb your rest.”
The captain could see he was holding a circuit board in his hands, an identical one lay on the chart table beside where the two officers waited.
“What’s the problem… and in lay terms, if you please?” he said indicating the electronic components.
“Captain, the central processor for the sonar systems went down, and when I replaced it with the spare I found that was crook too.”
If they couldn’t hear what was going on then there was no point them being there below the surface, they may as well be a surface vessel and go up top.