The maid jumps as Olena makes her move, her hands pushing at the agent's shoulders to get away, until she feels cold steel at her waist, looking down to see the hand gun. "...Just spilled some bleach. Don't worry about it - unless you wanna help clean up?" There's a loud snort from the other side of the door. "What do I get if I help?. "My gratitude. And nothing else." The maid says, trying to keep a quiver out of her voice. "Hah! Fat chance, cyka." After a tense moment, Olena hears footsteps lead away from the door and back towards the stairs. The silence that follows feels interminable, and finally the maid speaks up. "Are you...Militsiya?" She asks quietly. "But if you were, why not just dob me in to the guards? Unless...You're not here for me."
Olena quietly stared at the door for a few moments longer than strictly necessary - an old habit her trainers had instilled into her, except she imagined getting a bucket of cold water dropped on her head wouldn't be the price of falling for the old "one walks, the other talks" trick... Well, she supposed she could pull the "my bodysuit is just my workwear, handsome," but she really needed to not get distracted- oh, too late, she was already thinking about the Khazak downstairs. Once the horny spy was sure there wasn't a second guard trying to trick the women, she holstered her pistol. "I'm going to let you go now. If you do anything, just know I have a high-kick that hits like a fucking cobra strike." With that, Olena followed through, releasing the maid - but staying close enough that she could still ensure any non-compliance was punished. "As for me, I work with the Militsiya," she lied as easily as she breathed, "but stealing jewelry isn't something I concern myself with." The redhead offered her brunette counterpart a sly smile as she ensured she was between the thief and the wardrobe. "So, I'm willing to let it go. But first, I want you to answer a couple questions. Can you do that for me, sweetness?"
The thieving maid - or perhaps just a thief dressed up as a maid - lets out a long sigh of relief as Olena lowers the gun. "O-Okay, yeah, I can answer questions. You won't tell the boss here I talked, will you?" She asks, still tense.
"Oh, I'm sure he'll be too indisposed to even think to ask such questions, my girl," Olena noted with a cheeky smile. "First things first, Comrade Andropov's office - does he still have that painting inside? Has it been moved? Is there any kind of alarm system I should be concerned about?" "The guards on the second floor. Was it just that one taking a leak or will there be any other active security measures I should worry about? Do they have an armory? What can you tell me about their temperament as a group? Do they know what they're doing? "Are there any locations where Comrade Andropov lingers alone? Does he take liberties with you or the other staff? By the way, what's your number?" "Uhh, ignore that. Are there any quick and quiet exits from the second floor? Is there anything of interest about the estate or Comrade Andropov that could help me get in and out of his office?"
"Woah, woah, woah... Slow down." The maid holds up her hands. "One question at a time, lady. Okay..." She takes a deep breath, gathering herself to try and answer the torrent. "Yeah, there's a painting in the office. Behind the desk - big surrealist nude thing. We're not supposed to touch it, even to clean. I thought there might be something behind it but I never got close enough to check. As for an alarm, I don't think so. If there is one, the wires are well hidden." "The guards are pretty complacent tonight. Most are thinking they can get lucky while the boss is focused on his guests." She smirks. "I think there should only be one other up here, next door to the office. There's a little, like... What would you call it, an antechamber?" She shrugs. "Armory? I dunno. They have a big security room downstairs - maybe there's one in there? The maids don't go in there. Well, one of us did, but I don't think she was there to look at guns. Not ones made out of metal, at least." She cackles. Tapping her foot nervously, she tries to think. "Locations where he's alone? Apart from his office or bedroom? Well, I've seen him wander the grounds by the forest late at night, sometimes. There's a gallery on the other side of this floor, too. He can spend hours in there, just looking at his paintings. Weirdo." She rolls her eyes. "Liberties? Kind of. He doesn't go around groping us like some bosses do, but he has 'relationships' with some of the maids." Her expression shifts as Olena asks for her number, lip curling up into a knowing smirk as her nervousness fades and she starts to see where the redhead's eyes are pointed. "Heh, maybe..." She takes a step forward, licking her lips. "Maybe we have an opportunity to...help each other."
Olena nodded along as she took mental notes of the information the maid was giving her. "So that confirms it as far as where the microfilm is. There probably isn't an alarm - especially if this one went over it with a fine comb as well as I would have... Only one guard being in the way isn't so bad, I definitely have plenty of options - some more straightforward than others - to get rid of him." The mention of another maid looking for a "gun" got an amused eyeroll out of the redhead. "Blonde? I think she succeeded." "Knowing where the armory is will have to be good enough. I don't need whatever they might be packing and trying to neutralize it isn't worth the squeeze when I could just be in and out... He's probably not going to the forest or the gallery, at least not until his guests are well and gone... Finally, I could go back to the disguise idea, try to get him interested in me... We'll see how things shake out. The objective needs to come first." Olena's internal ruminations had drawn her blue gaze inexorably to the thief's prodigious rack. It seemed the bold little thing had taken that as a challenge, as she promptly attempted to capitalize on it. The former farm girl reddened, temptation quickening her heartbeat. "W- well, uh, not to seem ungrateful, but we're both here on business. Yes?" Despite her words, Olena's gaze was fixed firmly on the maid's breasts, her mouth going dry as her mind screamed at her about how she really didn't have time to be dilly-dallying about... There was also the matter she didn't actually know much about this person or her motivations. "I, um... Don't even know your name. Or what you're doing with a box full of jewelry - you know, besides the obvious."
The maid smirks knowingly, clearly seeing where Olena was looking. "What do you mean? I am talking business. I could help you with the guard at the office, in exchange for some help from you." "You say you want to handle business, but now you say you want to know me better? Fine. My name is Lyudmila Anastasov Pavlova." She admits with a sigh. "Formerly of Leningrad. Before that, from Poltava. As for the jewels... I heard rumours about this place in Leningrad. About a member of the Ukrainian politburo who sometimes visits the city, with a taste for high class escorts, and for giving them nice jewels when they impress him. And I figured if he's got enough to give to whores, he must have some at home, right? And, well..." She gestures to the box. "I needed the money."
Olena managed to be polite and tear her gaze away from Lyudmila's breasts and focus on her eyes as she provided her backstory... Which seemed plausible enough, even if she wouldn't be surprised to learn it was fake. She nodded her head to the side while raising her eyebrows slightly at the admission of simply needing money. "Well, I figured as much... Okay, I'm intrigued. What could I do that would also help you in this arrangement? I'm not opposed to letting you keep what you've managed to swipe so far, but I'm assuming there's more to it than that."
Lyudmila looks around, and Olena sees chinks appearing in her jokey, flirty armor. She looks back to Olena. "I need permits to get to Berlin. If you're Militsiya, you should be able to do that, right?" She asks. Both women realise Lyudmila's taking a risk in the request. Olena immediately thinks of a reason why she'd want to get to East Berlin with a box filled with jewels - to pay for her transit across or under the wall, and to finance a new life in the West. "I...I just need to get into the city. You wouldn't have to do anything...else."
Olena's gaze grew softer at Lyudmila's fairly simple request - even if the subtext was not lost on her. "I'm not necessarily in charge of that sort of thing... But if you help me, I will do everything in my power to get you there." It was an easy promise to make. Whether Olena could keep it or not wouldn't be up to motivation, at least... However... "If that's all, let's talk about the here and now. You're going to get the guard away from Comrade Andropov's office, yes? How? Is there anything you need from me to get it done?"
"Well, depends what you want." Lyudmila says. "I could lure him away by claiming I heard something in the other room - I can do a great hysterical damsel." She says proudly. "Or... I could get him to drop his pants, and then you knock him out from behind."
"Well, we don't want him calling for backup or for your hysterics to attract any one else." Olena mused - the slightest bit of color entered her cheeks as she glanced down at Lyudmila's shoulder boulders again. "But I would bet a lot of money these mudaky have been trying to get their hands on those puppies for as long as you've been here, so that guy will want you to himself." Judging from the way the redhead was - once again - drowning in the sight of the thief's milky titflesh, she was perhaps a bit too eager to see them manhandled.
"Heh, just them?" Lyudmila flashes the spy a teasing smirk, before she grows rigid, steeling herself for the job ahead. "Alright, I'll signal you when it's safe to move in. Three knocks on wood." Assuming Olena doesn't stop her, she moves ahead to the door, silently turning the handle and pushing it open just a little. Olena sees her head disappear past the threshold for a moment, before withdrawing it back inside the room. "We're clear - no one's in the open on this floor." With that, she moves ahead, turning left and heading deeper down the hallway. Following, Olena watches as Lyudmila knocks on a door, then opens it and enters the room behind. The redhead wonders if Lyudmila might rat her out, but when she hears three knocks from through the door, peeking through, Olena sees that no one inside is lying in ambush. Lyudmila is pressed up against the far window, facing away from Olena. Her skirt is hiked up, and a tall man with tattoos creeping past the sleeves of his dress shirt onto his hand chuckles, as he slaps the Ukrainian's lingerie-clad behind. "Heheh, I knew you were a slut." He grunts as he paws away at the maid from behind her, whose reflection Olena can see in the window.
(This seems like a good time for a pervert roll for whether Olena gets distracted, stays focused, or even joins in)
Spoiler: Perversion Roll D100 - 20 => 56 (Partial Success) Looking at the lewd scene, and seeing that Lyudmila's ass is nearly as appealing as her chest, Olena begins to feel the lust creeping in. Her breath deepens, becoming harder to keep silent, her body heats up - luckily no one's looking at her face, because she's pretty sure it's going red. As the guard fondles and spanks the maid in front of her, plentiful lewd scenes play through her head, imagining herself joining in, or being in the maid's place, and her embarassment only increases as she realises she can feel the slightest hint of dampness between her legs. Olena's still in control here - but part of her doesn't want to be.
Olena was not only blushing full in the face at the sight of Lyudmila's lingerie - her mouth had fallen ajar, damn near drooling at the quivering fat of a bottom given a paddling it so richly deserved. Maybe the thug was on to something calling the thief a slut. "Who brings lingerie on such a risky venture?" The bodysuit-clad hypocrite thought. "Guess that's why they call her Lewd-mila." Olena's attempt at humor was a feeble attempt to distract herself from her rapidly deteriorating sense of self-control. The plan had been to creep up behind the guard and render him unconscious while he was busy flirting with Lyudmila. But apparently, either he never had a woman in his life to teach him right from wrong or the thief had done too much to earn his amorous advances, as he seemed intent on taking her right there and then... The sheer possessiveness, dominance, and Lyudmila's apparent compliance on display hit a particular cocktail that the redhead loved in her voyeuristic experiences. Whether she wanted it to happen in the moment or not, Olena's reflexive reaction to seeing her favorite kinks on display was to clutch the door with a white-knuckle grip, arching her back and flexing her derriere in erotic sympathy (or jealousy). Olena watched for a few moments before before realizing something was wrong as she rubbed her cunt against the doorknob, just barely suppressing an excited moan. "Okay, I need to really get serious about this-," she determined, before sneaking her way down the hall after Lyudmila and her hot- handsy assailant. When she got close enough, the double-agent combined a leg sweep with a rear-naked choke, hopefully taking him to the ground and inflicting a blood-choke on him to render him unconscious.
Spoiler: Physical Attack Roll D100 + 10 (Fist Fighter Skill) + 20 (Distracted Guard) - 10 (Distracted by lust) => 105 (Critical Success) Olena creeps forward into the room, her footsteps masked by the sound of the guard's zipper and belt before his pants and boxers fall to the floor. The man spits on his palm as Olena takes another step, sliding his hand between Lyudmila's legs, provoking a moan - real or put on, Olena can't tell - from the maid as he rubs her over her panties, before tugging them to the side. He's about to impale the maid when the redhead strikes, her leg striking him and sending him to the ground like a bowling pin as she moves to get behind him, letting him take the impact of the fall. He can only manage a shocked "huh?" as she slips her forearm around his neck, applying just the right amount of pressure to his jugular to make his hands seize up before he goes limp. As she slips out from under him and gets back on her feet, Olena looks down to see the guy resting peacefully, chest rising and falling at a steady pace, with his roughly seven inch erection pointed skywards, still ready for action even with the fun stopped early. "Took you long enough." Lyudmila says, and Olena faces her just as - to her dismay - the maid pulls her skirt back down to cover her lower body. She stoops down, moving to rummage through the guard's pants. Spoiler: Luck Roll D100: 67 She holds up a Tokarev pistol, examining it for a fraction of a second before discarding it with the casual disdain of those who pride themselves on not using violence. Her eyes light up, as she finds something else. "Yes!" She whispers. "Not all of them carry these. I was hoping he had some." From his suit pockets, Lyudmila pulls out a pair of steel handcuffs. "C'mon. you do his ankles." She says, moving around to cuff the unconscious man. "We'll gag him with his clothes."
Olena couldn't help but rise with a satisfied smile - that poor bastard didn't stand a chance. However, Lyudmila's comment goes unanswered as the farm girl stares at the pillar of flesh down below. Before she can get lost in more sordid daydreaming, she quickly sobers as the thief of questionable morals removes the thug's weapon - then relaxes as she tossed it aside. She flinches again when the pistol hits the deck. "Don't just throw loaded guns around!" She hissed. "Hold on, let's play a trick on him... We can cuff him to a bed somewhere, undress him, and... Help junior there relax," Olena suggested as she pointed at the thug's manhood. "He'll think he had some fun and fell asleep, we go about our business. That way, even if he wakes up or someone finds him, he might just think you drained the life out of him." The spy looked over her shoulder to where Andropov's office was tantalizingly close. "... I'd appreciate if you took care of that. I can help you move him, at least, if you need it."
"What? The safety's on, isn't it?" Lyudmila shrugs as she's chided about the gun. Olena looks at it, quickly noting that this model doesn't have a safety. At Olena's suggestion, the maid raises an eyebrow. "This is for the mission, right?" She rolls her eyes. "Fine, I'll take him to a bedroom. I can move him - you focus on doing whatever you're doing fast. I don't know when Andropov'll want to go back to his office." She gestures to the far door at the end of the waiting room, leading to the study, reaching down to grab her keyring and detach a small metal key, handing it over.
Olena tapped her fingers together as Lyudmila suggested "finishing" the guard off was more for pleasure than business. "W- well, I just think it might help." With the situation otherwise resolved, Olena accepted the key and made her way to the office. While it was doubtful she would find him here, the redhead chose to unholster her pistol - no faffing about, if she saw Andropov, she would end him on the spot if she could get away with it. However, what she was more worried about were any kind of traps or alarms. "Vixen" approached the office doors with utmost caution, checking it thoroughly for any signs of physical security beyond the lock that she might have to worry about. Hopefully the KGB had trained her thoroughly enough to recognize the signs of a trap...
