Operation: Frozen Heart Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Character opinions do not reflect opinions held by the author.

Pierre trudged through town, keeping his head down and trying to look like every other miserable soul that walked these streets. It wasn't as bad as some other places, most of the buildings were still standing at least, and there were only air raids on every second Wednesday. Besides, they were far from the front, and the soldiers here were more concerned with patrolling the bars and whorehouses than the streets.

This meant Pierre also spent a lot of time in these places. Playing the cheerful drunk, a harmless inhabitant of the town, too stupid to make any use of the tactically sensitive information that poured from the mouths of officers whose lips had been sufficiently lubricated with cheap drinks. Pierre was, after all, a spy. He was a member of the Resistance, and a good one. Two weeks ago he had tipped off the Allies about a German convoy headed through Prague, and the week before he had almost been caught stealing an officer's code book when the man turned out to be more capable of holding his liquor than Pierre had anticipated.

Espionage was dangerous work, but he had a reason. Her name was Merrien.

He had met Merrien on the road far outside town, the slender blonde had collapsed to the ground in front of his eyes, unable to walk another step. He had carried her home and nursed her back to health, learning her story as he did so. She was from a village on the front that had been razed almost to the ground after being captured and recaptured by a new force every few weeks..

Her family had died during an air raid, their house collapsing on top of them. Merrien only surviving by a miracle, having snuck out to try and steal some of the ration packs the occupying soldiers brought with them. When she returned, her mission successful, she found only rubble where her house had stood. Pierre could still remember the tears in her eyes as she described how she had felt at that moment. She had clawed at the rubble with her bare hands, as if her family were beneath it, and if she could only move enough rocks, they would be there with smiling faces and rejoice at their rescue. She had dug until her palms bled and her strength gave out, then she fled. She fled from the ruin and from the pain, from the axis and the allies, from everything. She didn't know what she wanted, she only knew that she didn't want to be there. She had headed east without any goal, hoping only to survive long enough to get revenge on the evil men that had killed her family.

He had taken her in with entirely honorable intentions, but when he was no longer able to distract himself from her form by focusing on her condition, he couldn't help but notice her body. He caught himself staring any time he thought she wasn't looking. He would find excuses to put things down low so that she would have to bend to get them, giving him a view of her perfectly rounded ass. And he never did get around to fixing the washroom door, which left whoever was bathing in plain view of the house's other inhabitant. He managed to hold it together for almost a week after she was able to get out of bed. But then one day when he got home he heard noises from the bedroom. He went in to find Merrien naked on the bed, eyes closed and fingers buried in between her legs. Unable to resist any longer he had taken her right then and there, with her as a most willing participant. She later admitted to trying to seduce him, and that she had become enamored with him after he had saved her, seeing him as her hero

.He stepped up on the porch of the house he shared with Merrien, no longer having to hid his smile.

"Mon Cher, I'm home" he called out as he opened the door. For just a moment he panicked as everything went black, had they been compromised? Then he felt the tiny delicate fingers over his eyelids, and heard a giggle behind him. He could feel Merrien lift herself onto tiptoes, "Welcome home my hero, how was your day?"

She pulled her hands away and he spun around, pulling her close to him and into a kiss. "Every moment away from you felt like a lifetime of torture" he intoned. dramatically

"You know what today is, right?" She asked, a coy smile playing across her face

"Of course Mon Cher, today is 2 month since the fates brought us together"

"Well then, if the fates brought us together" she said, fiddling with the tie of her dress, " we shouldn't let anything come between us"

As she said this the dress fell away, revealing her bare body beneath. He wasn't sure how she did it, but even in wartime every inch of her skin was smooth and creamy, as if it had never been touched by the dirt and soot that seemed to be everywhere. He had asked her about it once or twice, but then, like now, he was distracted by her lips on his, her full bosom pressing itself against him as a long leg wrapped itself round his waist. She seemed almost to launch herself forward, pushing him down onto the nearest horizontal surface.

She slithered down his chest, working the buttons of his shirt free as if they had never been there. Unfastening his pants she pulled him into a standing position. With practiced movements, he hopped his way out of his pants without breaking contact with her as they slammed against one wall and then another, making their way to the bedroom.

She laid him out on his back, kneeling over him, her dripping sex poised over his cock. She began to grind her hips against his, rubbing her sex against his member but not yet allowing it inside.

"Tell me, my hero, did you learn anything about those kraut fuckers?" she moaned, [insert sexually stimulating action].

"Uh, yeah," he said, at the point of distraction, "they're planning something big."

"Oh something big?" she asked, sliding down his body so that her face was level with his cock. "Is it as big as my Little Pierre?" she questioned, her tongue flicking out against the head

He would have chuckled at the cheesy line if he could focus on anything but her. This was her foreplay. She had explained it once, she was attracted to power, and in her eyes, there was no greater power than for one man to bring an entire bring an entire army to it's knees. "Fuck me harder than you fuck the jerrys" she liked to say.

"I think it, ugh, has to do with," he paused, inhaling sharply as her tongue wrapped around his cock, "Ice Fox"

She stopped, and crawled up to look him in the eyes, her dirty blonde hair framing a wicked grin plastered across her round face, "So you finally found those dyke bitches?"

"Yes" he said

"Good" she said, then slammed herself down onto his erection, yelling "Now fuck me! Fuck my cunt like you're going to fuck the Ice Bitch!"

-Hours Later-

They'd had sex before, but never like that. Merrien had always been a fierce lover, but this time she had been like a woman possessed, each time it seemed like she couldn't be more insatiable, more wild, or more sensual, he would tell her something else about their plan to take down Ice Fox and she made it seem like she was only warming up the moment before. They had collapsed out of pure exhaustion, and he woke up spooning up against her. She shifted, turning her head to look up at him.

"Good morning my hero, how's breakfast sound?" She asked, giving him a quick kiss and hopping out of bed without waiting for an answer. She donned his shirt and bounced out to the kitchen, ready to work her magic with the meager foodstuffs they had managed to scrape together.

Pierre laidin the bed for a few minutes, as he listened to her bustling about. As he heard pans clank together he almost forgot that they were in the middle of a war, and wished they could stay like this forever. But, he was broken from his reverie by a crash and a scream. He rushed into the kitchen to see what was wrong, and was greeted by a sight that he had seen before in his nightmares. Merrien was sprawled out on the floor, and standing over her were 4 men in uniforms synonymous with evil. He rushed at them futilely, but within moments he was beaten down, and his vision faded. He was going to die now, but at least he would be with Merrien.

When he woke up he had both hands cuffed behind him to a steel chair, he was in a small concrete cell, lit by a single flickering light bulb suspended from the ceiling. As his vision began to clear he heard what sounded like a heavy metal door open and close behind him.

"Hello," Came an heavily accented greeting, "My name is Yuri Dekachoff, and you are going to tell me everything there is to know about the Flench and their pitiful resistance, or there will be pain. Or at least more pain"

"I'm not telling you shit, so you can fuck off back to whatever kraut-"

*KRACK*

A huge Gorman fist crashed into Pierre's face, interrupting his response, and drawing blood from his lip.

"So, I'm going to ask you a question, and you are going to answer me. Where do you report to?"

"Hell"

*KRACK*

"Oh my poor boy, I'm going to have fun with this" Yuri said, laughing, "You see, you and your friends have been quite a thorn in our side, now it's time for me to return the favor."

And so began a new haze, questions and pain, questions and pain. There was water, he was drenched, and bleeding. Time had passed but he had no idea how much, he couldn't barely think straight or speak even, , barely speak, but he hadn't given them anything, and even sleep deprived with his head ringing, he took small comfort in the frustration exhibited by his captors over this fact. At some point he had been turned and was now facing the door. He'd had a lot of time to study this door recently, as he sat staring at it, waiting for someone to come through it and the questions to start again. There was yelling outside the door now, then what sounded like a woman's voice, and the door opened again.

In stepped the now familiar face of Yuri Dekachoff, but instead of walking up to Pierre as he usually did to begin his questioning, he stepped, almost meekly, into the corner. Behind him entered a woman Pierre had never seen, but instantly recognized. One glance was enough for him to realize why she had earned the name Ice Queen. Her piercing blue eyes stared him down with a cold indifference he had never felt. The temperature of the room seemed to drop, and he could swear he saw ice crystals in her shock white hair. He averted his eyes, looking at her body, she was a beautiful woman, with smooth curves sheathed in a uniform very similar to that worn by SS officers, emblazoned with the insignia of a fox's head superimposed over a snowflake. She wore tall leather boots with a heel, and pair of long knives strapped to each ankle and hip.

She made the slightest of hand gestures, and he heard female screams, and scuffling. Black hair flailed about as a young girl thrashed about trying to escape the hold of the soldiers dragging her.

"BE STILL!" The Ice Queen commanded.

The girl stopped, standing just inside the door, she trembled, her face a mask of terror, but she dared not move. Pierre recognized her, it was Merrien, she was alive! The Ice Queen grabbed her by the neck, dragging her in front of Pierre. "So, my little hero" she said with a sneer, "this is your last chance, tell me what I want to know, or I stop torturing you, and I start on the girl."

She began to pace around the terrified girl, running a single finger over her body and around her neck, "You've held out so well I must admit I'm impressed, but how long do you think she will last? How long before she breaks? Minutes? Hours? Days? How long will you be able to listen to her screams? Her pleas for mercy?" She looked at him, eyebrow raised, looking for a reaction.

Pierre looked away, reminding himself of the lives his silence saved.

"I suppose we'll find out then"

He flinched as he heard the sound of tearing cloth and a scream.

"PLEASE!" The girl wailed, "My Hero! Please! I don't want to die!"

"Oh aren't you a tasty morsel" The Ice Queen taunted, then commanded "Make him look"

Soldiers grabbed Pierre's head and pried open his eyes, clamping them open with some painful metal contraption. He saw the Merrien, now naked, her hands trembling as they tried to cover her modesty. She looked him in the eye, pleading for mercy.

*KRACK*

The fist of the Ice Queen struck the girl in the jaw, knocking her to the ground. She looked at Pierre, smug indifference playing across her face "Anything to say?"

When he said nothing she shrugged and delivered a swift kick to the girls ribs, then grabbed the girl at the base of her neck and pulled her to her feet. Merrien whimpered as one of the kraut gorillas held her arms above her head, keeping her on her feet. The Ice Queen drew one of her knives. Merrien's begging resumed, tears streamed down her face as the knife touched her milky skin. Her breath caught, and she screamed as it broke skin, a line of red forming where it had been unblemished white.

The screams continued for what may have been hours or minutes or days, he couldn't tell, he could hear Merriens wails, boring into his skull. Forced to watch, forced to listen as the love of his life was broken, beaten, and cut. As the hours stretched on, as he looked into her eyes, and listened to her plead for mercy, his perspective began to change. He couldn't do it anymore, he couldn't think about the men he was saving while a girl died before his eyes. He had once clung to an ideal of a brotherhood, united against the ephemeral evil. But what good was an ephemeral brotherhood against a very real evil? What good was keeping a secret to save lives when lives would be lost if it was kept?

"Stop! Please!" The Ice Queen looked at him, curious, the tip of her blade still poised for another cruel incision, "I'll tell you what you want to know, anything, just please, let her go"

The Ice Queen snapped her fingers and the soldiers let the girl go. She crumpled to the floor, twitching, without the energy or the will to move. He looked down at her, and began to speak. He described hideouts, secret codes, formations, command organization, everything. He shed a tear for the lives that he was destroying as he did so, but all he could think about was the one that he had saved. When he had finished he looked up at the Ice Queen.

"Please Ma'm, that's all I know, just let the girl go. I don't care what happens to me, just please, she doesn't deserve any of this. Just tell her she's free to go and I can die in peace"

"Oh, she's been free to go this entire time, " She said, a wicked grin forming on her face, "just look"

The girl stood, her back to Pierre, seemingly unaffected by the cuts and bruises that covered almost every inch of her body. She shook out her hair and then reached into it. He was confused as pins began to drop to the floor, and his confusion grew worse when she threw away the blonde hair, which he now saw to be a wig, and long red hair tumbled out. Why would she hide the color of her hair? And what did it have to do with the Ice Queen? Was she some sort of prostitute?

Then she looked at the Ice Queen over her shoulder, as if to say "a little help?". The Ice Queen approached, and gently, almost lovingly, began to prod at the scar on Merrien's back that she had never let him touch. It peeled away, leaving slight gluey residue at the edges. Underneath, on the unscarred skin, was a tattoo. A tattoo of the insignia that was emblazoned on the uniform of every soldier here. As she turned to face him, sauntering over to the side of the Ice Queen, he realized his mistake. He had given information, betrayed his comrades, betrayed his country, and doomed hundreds. He had done all of this, to save the Red Fox.

She approached him, straddling his lap and sitting down, so their faces were inches apart.

"So tell me, was it all a lie?" he asked through tears, his voice raspy from dehydration

"Not all of it," She stated, as if they were having tea at a café, "I really did enjoy this" she clutched at his crotch, then she stood, swinging her leg around " I'll see you in hell, my hero"

The last words were laced with venom as she drew one of the knives from her sisters belt and in the same motion used it to slice through the man's throat.

Wiping it off on his clothes she handed it back to her sister, "It's good to be back"

"It's good to have you back," Elsa said, stroking the younger girl's hair, "Go get cleaned up and see Olaf, I have something I need to take care of here"

"Alright sis" Anna said, sauntering out through the door.

As soldiers began to file out, Elsa called out, "Not you Yuri, men whose failures hurt my sister are no men at all"

That night a pair of soldiers walking by the cell heard inhuman screams uttering forth from it.

"I thought the prisoner was dead" one said to the other

"He is, I helped bury the body" the other replied, "Hey, have you seen Yuri?"