Summer Vacation of 2003, Central Intelligence Agency, Training Facility
"Never fall in love," Agent Montgomery declared solemnly, his tone providing the seriousness needed while he twirled the glass in his hand, the martini sloshing in distracting circles up to the lip of the rim. "The first lesson of spycraft, you'll all do well to remember it."
Not a problem, Sarah thought casually, easy enough.
"Cadet Walker."
Her eyes flickered up to her instructor's face.
"With your CIA-engineered looks," he said purposefully, uncovering her main insecurity easily. He watched her bristle, an amused smile playing at his lips, "It should be easy for you to handle the opposite sex if needed."
She smirked, feeling the animosity of the class increase. She flipped her pencil easily around her fingers, watching him levelly, waiting for the question he was inevitably leading into.
"So what do you do if they're more interested in what's underneath?"
Sarah sat up straighter in the hard wooden chair, leaning her elbows onto the small desk and at the same time squeezing her breasts more front and center as she looked through hooded eyelashes at him. "Pull my top down even more," she responded innocently.
The class broke into laughter, some of the uneasiness gone. They didn't like the fact Graham was her personal patron, and everyone knew it. Everything was impossible to keep secret between eighty inquisitive spies living in close proximity for thirteen weeks.
"Amusing, Cadet Walker," Montgomery said dryly, sipping nonchalantly at the drink as he peered at her. "Let me know how that works out for you if that situation ever arises."
This was the class that Sarah found the most interesting and Roan Montgomery was known as one of the best instructors, he really knew his stuff and knew how to teach it. Roan taught Infiltration and Inducement of Enemy Personnel, or Seduction School as the young agents nicknamed it. The engineered looks was a snide comment that a lot of the agents went through. Sarah had work done, which was not unusual; a lot of agents have had plastic surgery.
It wasn't that long ago when Roan and the CIA makeover specialist, Sydney Price, had made an appointment to see her afterhours, She was eagerly awaiting in her dorm when they arrived carrying several packages. Sarah had a dorm to herself, her roommate didn't make it past the first exams got cut after a couple of weeks. There was a high dropout rate as many of the cadets didn't cut the muster. By now most of the dorms had only one occupant.
She opened the door and allowed the two senior officers access to her dorm. She was quick to note that the specialists were bearing what appeared to be gifts for her. Boxes and parcels wrapped in plain paper were placed on Sarah's bed.
Barely able to contain her excitement, because it was a long time ago when Sarah actually got a gift from anyone, her father was not a generous man and she hadn't seen her mother for years.
Roan handed her a package that he hadn't placed on her bed, Sarah opened the first present and was shocked to find that it contained lingerie, she gave Roan a stern look;
"What am I suppose to do with this" she cynically asked?
"Put it on straight away" came the instructors' response. "You can change in your bathroom and then come out and show us." The way he spoke was more of an order than anything.
Sometimes you just had to do what you are told so Sarah complied. Sarah disappeared into the bathroom and stripped off so she could put the lingerie on. The first thing she noticed that it was red. Lacy red bra and panties with garter belt and stockings. She started with the panties, then the garter belt followed by the stockings. She wasn't to sure how to quickly put them on or how to keep the seams straight. After much fuss she turned her attention to the bra. Sarah had never been concern about bras, she didn't have enough to fill one. She found that clipping the straps at the back awkward, so she cheated by clipping the clips on her front then spinning the bra around and up into place. The cups were obviously too big.
Once she was finished it was time to parade in front of the instructors. She was suddenly overwhelmed with a sense of modesty as she opened the bathroom door and re-entered the main room.
Sarah was feeling subconscious about standing in front of two of the instructors in nothing but her new lingerie. She didn't feel comfortable and it was clear the Roan had picked up on her uneasiness.
"What's the matter Cadet? You look uncomfortably stunning by the way."
Roan pulled what looked like a catalog out of one of the packages. It was a colorful magazine type and it was full of pictures of a young woman in lingerie performing a variety of poses. He hand the magazine to Sarah and told her to look at page 8. On page 8 was the woman posing in a sideways position that extenuated her curves.
"Copy that pose!" Roan instructed.
Sarah did her best to comply. To her the pose was a little bit awkward but she soon got it right. She could see her reflection in the mirror. If she didn't know better she would have thought it was someone else in the mirror.
"Very Good Cadet. Now turn around and pose the other side."
Sarah complied again but at her first attempt she had her legs the wrong way which she quickly corrected. The slip had not gone un-noticed by her instructors.
It was Sydney Price that spoke up.
"Hmm, from now on, every night I want you to practice every pose in that magazine in front of your mirror. I suggest you put on lingerie so you feel more comfortable as you do it. Remember lingerie helps you feel good about yourself."
It was then it dawned on her, the model in the magazine was a young Sydney Price, these shots were probably twenty years old but Sydney Price was still a fine looking woman. As fine as porcelain.
Roan then produced out of his pocket two soft silicone moulds. The thing was they were two different sizes. Sarah gave a puzzled look, what were those things for?
Reading Sarah's expression Roan put her out of her misery.
"These are two silicone implants that we will be giving you for your enhancement procedure. Sydney and I are still debating whether to go the B cup or the C cup? Now I want you to slip one into each bra cup and then pose for us. You can see for yourself the results in the mirror on the wall"
After inserting the two moulds into her cups as instructed she was ordered to stand side on to the mirror. Sarah could assess her body outline. She paid particular attention to the slightly expanded bra cup. She had to admit to herself that she liked what she saw, and that was with the smaller mould. She waited impatiently for the command to turn around and show the other side.
"Now show the other side!" Roan softly ordered.
The profile in the mirror was even better. This implant filled the cup of her bra and she felt a sudden warmth and growth in confidence.
"Well what do you think?" Roan asked the makeover artist.
"Hmm, I'm not sure, how about we see the other side again."
Sarah rotated and stood still
"And back"
"And back"
"And back"
"And back"
The two older instructors looked at each other and seem to come to an agreement. Suddenly Roan turned to Sarah.
"And what do you think, Cadet?"
"I like the larger one." The Cadet sound a bit more enthusiastically than she wanted to let on.
"Good we all agree!" Roan stated in agreement.
Sarah was feeling euphoric, but she schooled her delight as she didn't want to appear too ecstatic. She had seen around the complex a number of beautiful agents that she wondered if they were models in a previous vocation. It wasn't until one of her fellow cadets told her that in all probability these agents had been under the scalpel that she began to wonder if they were going to do something to her so she never felt like an ugly duckling again.
Roan delved into his pocket again a pulled out the larger implant's twin.
"Here you go Cadet. The matching one for the other side!", as he handed Sarah the silicone implant. Sarah quickly removed the smaller one for the one that didn't make her feel lopsided. She gave herself a quick adjustment so she felt more comfortable.
She was about to hand the small implant back to Roan when she had a thought.
"Sir" she said curty "What if I was to go larger?"
Roan tilted his head and gave a silly grin. Sarah's question was often asked by previous cadets, there was something about flat chested girls who wanted big boobies.
"Okay" he said, as he retrieved a smaller implant from his pocket, "Insert the smaller one into your cups so you a two each per cup"
Sarah did what she was told. The added implant didn't sit as easy as the first one did.
"Block my hand!" Roan commanded.
Roan stepped forward and thrushed his arm forward in which Sarah easily blocked, he repeated his thrust only a little more to the right, again Sarah blocked it away, and again and again each time moving his hand further to the right . Each time Sarah easily blocked his attack with her left arm. And then it happened, after one such block something made a plop noise on the floor. One of Sarah's silicone fillers had forced its way out of Sarah's bra and fell to the floor.
As all eyes looked down to the implant flat on the floor Roan smiled.
"And that's why we don't put oversized implants into our agents. Oversized implants can restrict your ability to fight and defend yourself."
"We'll leave you now. Give you some privacy and you can try on the rest of the wardrobe we've given you!" Sydney then shoed Roan out of the cadet's dorm.
With the closing of the dorms door, Sarah returned her attention to the image of her in the mirror. She really liked what she saw; a big cheesy grin appeared on her face as she looked at her image in the sexy lingerie. She couldn't wait to see what else the instructors had picked out for her.
Sydney Price had done an excellent job, every dress she tried on fitted her perfectly, especially with the implants. Her shoes fitted and with a variety of heals made her look taller and slimmer. When it came to the additional lingerie Sarah decided to try on a different set every night. That way when she practiced her posing in front of the mirror she would savior the moments.
The good doctors at the CIA had given her breast enhancement. Sarah had a very lean figure when she arrived at "the Farm", low body fat, and didn't have enough to require a bra. It was common for young women in the agency to have surgery to make them more attractive and desirable so to manipulate men. Removal of a few small moles, bit of rhinoplasty to straighten up her broken nose. And the one she wanted most, otoplasty, Sarah had always had a thing about her ears. She never used to have her hair back in a ponytail as she thought her ears stuck out too much. The powers that be also fixed up the scarring on her arms from when as a teenager she would cut herself. She spent the first weeks wearing sloppy Joes and long sleeves to disguise the surgery.
Fair to say Sarah spent many pleasurable nights alone in her dorm dressing and undressing in front of her mirror admiring her new looks and figure.
When Sarah left the farm she had put on 15 pounds of muscle and a pound of silicone. Her body fat count was the same.
January 2, 2009, Bartowski Apartment, California
"Blue, grey…black," Chuck counted in his mind, "charcoal, and black again…lilac?"
Opening the closet door, hanging on the inside was a suit and shirt already picked out for him.
Ah, white striped shirt, he mused, why didn't I think of that?
Almost reverently, he carefully pulled the cloudy grey suit from the hanger, laying it on the bed as he stared thoughtfully at it, knowing full well who had chosen it for him.
No tie, huh?
"Well," he commented, as he stripped off his shirt, "she always knows best."
For a moment, he couldn't speak, emotion filling his chest as he quietly dressed. Slipping his loafers on, he turned around to face the mirror, smoothing his collar down, trying to style his hair the way she insisted on doing it.
He stared at himself for a moment, surprised at the way everything matched, making him look taller and leaner. I would never have used this combination.
Brushing it off, he clomped down the stairs, footsteps echoing his loneliness.
Shopping list, dry-cleaners, pay the electricity, put the bins out…
Oh. The coffee wasn't made yet.
Sighing, he fumbled around, pouring the appropriate parts into the espresso machine, trying to remember how exactly he liked it made.
Briefcase, he reminded himself as he popped two pieces of bread into the toaster. Jacket, he laid the two over the chair so he wouldn't forget them.
The doorbell rang, and already frazzled, Chuck didn't even want to imagine his state at the end of the day.
"It's open," he called, "and you know it."
"Hi, Chuck," Bryce greeted as he closed the door behind him. He wasted no time in getting to the servery and pinching a slice of toast and stuck it in his mouth. "Yoush weady?"
The moment he put it in his mouth he knew he made a mistake, Chuck had already put a spread on it and the taste was unique.
"Ugh, What have you put on the toast?" Bryce had screwed his face up but continued to chew.
"Vegemite!" Chuck replied, "I developed a taste for it when we were holidaying on the Gold Coast"…. Chuck voice trailed away, The Gold Coast Holiday was one that gave Chuck a sense of guilt after what he did to his friend there.
"So," Bryce said, pretending not to notice the change in Chuck's demeanour and being the opportunist, "What are you having for lunch today?"
"Hmmm. Leftovers from last night! Why?"
"I was hoping there was enough for two."
"Okay, you know there is. You saw how much Ellie gave me to take home. Alright you can have some. I won't be finishing it for dinner later."
"Arh , You're a friend", Bryce was pleased with leftovers from the best cook he knew.
Grabbing a metal thermos, Chuck washed it out with hot water, leaving the sides heated up to keep the coffee temperature high for longer.
"Just a second," Chuck said, and bit his lip in concentration as he filled it up, picking up the remaining slice of toast before juggling all his belongings into his arms. "Let's go."
Bryce held the elevator lift door so Chuck could enter before riding the lift down to the car-park in the basement. Chuck by this time was organised enough to have one arm free so he could open the passenger door of Bryce's SUV.
Bryce started the car, before mentioning, "Morgan's called at least three times this morning asking about the deal with the Japanese. It's been put off long enough, especially with the season's festivities."
Chuck rested his head against the passengers side window.
"Chuck."
"Yeah," he said, "I heard you. The Japanese need to know that at this time of year everything gets put back!"
Bryce seemed to sense his mood, and just engaged his headset, asking the receptionist to put him through to Morgan.
'Business Trip' 2009, nondescript workstation, Washington
"Home Sweet Home," Sarah said aloud to herself, trying to fill the cubical up with her voice so it wouldn't feel so sterile and empty.
As she sat on her chair, she had this chair for many years but managed to sit in it on average of thrice a year. In some way she was surprised that it hadn't been pinched in her absence, the ergonomic chair still had gas in its canister.
The desk itself only had a LAN cable protruding from it, the rest of the desk was bare, no personable items were on it.
Sarah unpacked her laptop and then plugged it into the LAN cable for access to her employers system. She logged on and checked her emails, there were heaps of them.
"I wonder if he found the suit? He may have just walked straight past it as usual," She remarked, frowning unhappily.
Head in the game, Walker, she chastised herself, be professional. You cannot afford to slip up.
It was hard to concentrate here; there was no frustration or resentment. It felt oddly vacant.
She walked over to the deposit wall, she located her locker, inputed the six digit sequence and listened to it click open and proceeded to remove the contents.
Fingering the dog eared pages, she spread her documents along the desk, fingers automatically moving over the thick document where she had marked sentences and stuck several yellow post-it notes already.
Involuntarily, her eyes shifted down to the second to last paragraph, written in a bland, unemotional font. In italics, she noted neutrally, this isn't even a negotiation.
…only procedure, she read, skipping over words as she scanned the document,
Issue Clause 72c, Mr. and Mrs. Bartowski…
Aggravated and unable to ignore the 'suggestion' given to her, she tossed the sheaf of paper onto the desktop, the photo that rested on it fluttering to the carpet at the disturbance the stack made, she had to bend to retrieve it.
It is necessary to…for your protection as well as his…
Elbows on the desk and arms forming an arch, she let her head rest in her hands as she stared at the paperwork. She wished the blood rushing to her head would purge this whole predicament.
…annulment or otherwise. Please be aware…
The words just wouldn't leave her thoughts.
We express our regret.
'Chief's' office 2009, Pineapple Games Office Building, California
One thing about working for yourself was weekends didn't matter, when starting a business meant many long unpaid hours and the other favourite cliché the buck stops with you.
"Pineapple Games—Armed and dangerous," Chuck trying to sound as enthusiastically as the pretty brunette in the 11.00pm slot TV ad did it.
Pushing aside his embossed notepad, he dropped his pen and spun around in his comfy leather chair.
"Who was the genius who thought up that line?" Chuck muttered to himself, "Morgan".
Shaking his head, he leaned back into the headrest, crossing his fingers over his stomach. This morning's emails were tended to, the Japanese kept happy, doodles of new ideas scratched all over a piece of A4; sagging into the chair properly, Chuck settled in for a short nap.
… Bryce is out having lunch with some new investors.
He slowly closed his eyes again, but halfway his pupils rested on his half-finished anniversary gift for Sarah.
Suddenly he have an anxiety attack and didn't feel like sleeping anymore, but then reality sank in because he knew there was no way in getting it to her. He settled down again and closed his eyes; it wasn't long until he was dozing.
There was the dreaded tingled in his trousers. It woke him up from his slumper, he was slow in his actions when he pulled his iPhone out from his pocket. Turning it around, he pressed a random button, watching the light brighten up the sleep mode as the 'locked' screen turned up just as he put it out and gently put it down on the desk, intending to simply stare at it.
A small flash of writing flew past, "Encrypted message. Secure connection," before the prompt surfaced for his password.
With a small whooshing sound, the official looking document, completely adorned with military logo appeared on the screen as he gave a quick glance to make sure his door was closed.
"Charles Bartowski," he murmured, then the email opened:
"Mr. Charles Bartowski, The United States Army are in need of your services again for the good of the country. You are hereby recalled to serve at your previous rank of Captain. You will be contacted by our liaison officer shortly over a secure connection. You will then present yourself to FT Bragg on the Seventh of this month.
Chuck's hands started shaking again. He dropped his head to the desk and closed his eyes.
'Great, just what I need like a hole in the head, another fucking tour of Iraq. Although a hole in the head would solve everything.'
After a couple of minutes of thinking about his problems, an idea came to him, If he was going to have to go on another tour then he wanted several concessions for his team and company. When the liaison officer rang him Chuck was ready and he knew what he wanted to say and what he wanted. The liaison officer was taken back by Chuck's demands before eventually agreeing to all of them.