"Oh, I do think most women are pretty crazy about sex deep down. But there is something to it, the rich people have less breaks when it comes to wild adventures ~" He smiled. "Oh, now talking from experience? Maybe you will be the one, to spin me a tale?"
"Oh, is that right?" She rolls her eyes at his comment about women. "But I've seen a few things over the years. Not as many as you, I'm sure, but then again, I haven't had as many years as you." She grins. "There was one time when I was bartending not far from here. A pair of beauties came in. They were American tourists - an older woman, and her son's wife. You see, the younger woman loved her mother in law, but thought she was boring. So she slipped a little pill into the older woman's drink. Loosened her up a bit. Then they took some cocaine in the bathroom. Then they started flirting with the bouncers... By the end of the night, the poor Christian mother ended up fucking half the patrons in the bar. Of course, the daughter in law did break the rules by spiking a drink, so the bouncers had to teach her a hard lesson too."
Alistair raised his hands. "Just speaking from decades of experience." He then chuckled good naturely. "Yes, yes, I am old. You don't have to remind me that." He listened to the story, then slowly nodded his head. "Ah... that' quite an interesting story. What happened with the two later?" He asked curiously. "And did you join in?" He hoped his stories were enough, but he should really start seducing the woman.
"We made sure they got home safely to their hotel. Last thing we need is people poking their heads around here because some rich Americans got hurt or went missing." She rolls her eyes. "And as for me, I needed to watch the bar. That kind of business needs constant attention. Not like this one, where I can close for an afternoon whenever I like."
"Hmm~" Alistair hummed. "I was hoping for information on what happened with them later... ah, I might be just an old man into gossip~" He chuckled. "Well, my dear, would you grace me with adventure if my own?" He asked, as he put his hand on her elbow, lightly. "Allow old man to gain some fond memories from the antique shop?" He asked.
Spoiler: Seduction Roll D100+30 (Honeypot)=88 (Success) "Hah, you're a bold one!" She laughs, the sound rich and pleasant. "What kind of dirty old man walks into a store, tells a naughty story and moments later tries his luck? Ah, but I suppose it was a good story, and this is a day of celebration, after all." She looks behind him, just briefly glancing at the far wall. "Okay. Go lock the door and flip the sign to closed."
"Ah, young lady, it seems that this old man still has some fire in him~" Alistair chuckled. "Besides, you seem like a fun gal~ I would regret it if I did not at least try to seduce such a beautiful woman~" He said as he bowed with a flourish. "Already making the old man work? You know, I might collapse..." He chuckled as he turned and made his way to the door, making sure to observe the reflection of the woman in the glass as he followed her instructions. He flipped the sign and locked the door, carefully keeping an eye on her reflection.
"I hope your energy will last - it'll need to." She chuckles. As he moves to lock the door, he sees her look up at the corner of the room, where a small camera hangs - one that looks quite modern for such an old shop. Her hands, though, move to the laces of her bikini top.
Alistair made sure the door were locked, before turning and walking back to the counter. "I return, with my quest completed, oh fair lady~" He said as he approached.
Olena blinked blearily as she ended up rolling into the sunlight, blue eyes enflamed by the orange glow of the morning. She looked down on Uranus's snoozing form, before a small smirk spreads across one side of her face. She took some twisted pride in knowing just what she had wrought out from the older man, even more than he had apparently thought he was able to do. The redhead carefully clambered out from around him, intent on getting her catsuit and gear back on... Especially before anyone noticed Andropov's financial folder was still stuck inside the former. When Bagration banged on the door to awaken the two, Olena thought about Uranus's words last night. "Eh... I'll make it up to him," she determined. "Alright, be out in a minute!" The Amazonian Vixen called back, before finishing getting her gear on. If Uranus somehow managed to sleep through all that, she would begin lightly smacking him on the cheek like a truant student refusing to get out of bed. "Hey. Hey. Comrade. Hey, it's time to go. Hey. Hey," she mischievously parroted, intent on annoying the older man just a little bit.
"I'm sure it was very difficult." The dusky skinned beauty laughs softly, her bikini top falling loose and her sizeable breasts spilling free. "Come on - unless you want to do it here over the counter." She gestures to the door leading further into the store.
"Oh, my~" Alistair chuckeled. "I shall not refuse such a request, especially, from such a beautiful woman~" He said as he followed the woman, keeping an eye on her and on the cameras that were in the shop.
As she checks her catsuit, Olena notes it smells a little from the mix of her sweat and her juices, but the intel she managed to grab is still there - luckily since she was very much distracted last night. "Hurry it up!" Bagration calls. "Ugh, cyka..." Uranus grumbles, lightly batting away her hand and rolling to the side petulantly, before finally opening his eyes and rising. "Huh, I thought that was a dream." He breathes sleepily as he sees her, giving his head a few hits to shake away the proverbial cobwebs. "Hmph, good morning, kitten." He leans in to steal a kiss, before standing up to grab his clothes. "Go on, I'll catch up in just a moment."
She smirks, reaching out to take his hand. Though he'd earlier worried that going into the back of the shop might prove dangerous, he sees that there just seems to be more shelves with antiques here, along with some stairs leading upwards. The elevator heading down that the thug revealed under torture is nowhere to be found, and probably hidden behind something like a statue or a bookcase, assuming they use the same tradecraft he's familiar with. Upstairs, she pulls him into a small, sparesly decorated apartment, and from there into a bedroom. Beside the bed he sees a framed picture of the beauty, with a tall dark haired white guy of about the same age. She doesn't pay any attention to the photo, as she pulls him toward the bed. Spoiler: Perception Roll D100: 77 As he goes by, Wendigo is able to spot cameras in every room he passes. In the apartment they're no longer bulky and obvious cams, but small hidden ones nested in the corners of the rooms. Even the bedroom has a camera in it.
Alistair grabbed her hand and pulled back, so her back pushed against his chest. "Let's not hurry." He said as he pulled a strand of her hair not his nose. "Hmm~ a smell of a beautiful woman~" He smiled as he placed a light kiss on her neck. "Do, allow me~" His hands started moving along her sides, lightly tracing her skin, before moving over her breasts. He slowly traced his hands over the two perky globes, the hard nipples travelling between his fingers, before he groped them both strongly. "Enjoy~" He whispered into her ear as he slowly massaged her breasts. As she became more receptive, his hand travelled down, sliding over her stomach, into her thongs, his fingers sliding between her lower lips...
Olena ignored Bagration's shouting, entirely too busy giggling impishly as she danced away from Uranus's half-hearted swats. She returns in time to receive the smooch - to her cheek. She couldn't go and let the old man think he had her wrapped around his finger or - god forbid - got romantically entangled. "Good morning, sir~," the Amazonian Vixen replied, before promptly making her exit, if only to assure Bagration that they were, in fact, getting a move on.
"Hmph, what a gentleman." She chuckles lightly, as his hands travel down her perfectly soft skin. As his fingers dip beneath the thong, they find her lips already coated in a thin layer of dew. She presses back against him, her thick ass grinding against his crotch.
"Took you long enough." Bagration grumbles as she walks out the door - failing to hide the jealous blush on his face as Uranus steps out a moment later. "Time to go. We don't want to piss off Mama." Uranus growls, back to his ice-man persona. The journey is uneventful - Uranus seems happy not to speak much, while Bagration stares out the window, not making a lot of jokes like he usually does. Olena watches the countryside of her homeland go by. They arrive at a train station, and soon the pleasant fields of Ukraine yield to the deep forests of Russia as they make their way on a fast electric locomotive. Lubyanks Square - Moscow, RSFSR Looking out the window as the state car that collected them at Belorussky Station, Olena gazes at the imposing fanfare of the Lubyanka Building - the headquarters of the KGB, a place most people wouldn't dare going into, but that to her is a home away from home, however much she may or may not like it. The car pulls into a side bay, the driver showing the armed guards there identification, quickly pulling them into a parking lot. Having done this more than once, the trio of spies relinquish their weapons and make their way to a hidden elevator, leading them directly to the upper levels of the building. As she walks, heels tapping against the tiled floor, she takes a look out at the ground level. The team head through the offices, to a door marked Section 10 - Alcohol and Tobacco Smuggling Unit. After a moment's pause, the door is opened and the three are ushered in by an overworked looking secretary, who gestures for Bagration and Uranus to sit, while Olena goes through. Stepping into a warmly decorated office, Olena sees her. The name on her door reads Valentina Sakova. Her real name is unknown. The head of the 'Alcohol and Tobacco Smuggling Unit', which is to say assassination, theft and global espionage. Mama. (Pretend she's holding a drink rather than a rubber, lol) "I hear you had a successful mission." Mama says in her crisp, pleasant voice. "Though I also hear that Andropov escaped. Oh well, these things happen. You have the microfiche?" She holds out her hand, her keen eyes seeming to bore into Olena's skull, like she knows everything the younger woman is thinking. Olena's used to it - she's felt the pressure of those eyes since the day Mama appeared outside her Komsomol class all those years ago, whispering in dulcet tones about how much better she could serve the state and the workers in the KGB.
Alistair lightly kissed her neck. "Relax~" He hummed, as his fingers continued travelling over her flesh, slowly bringing her more and more pleasure. "Enjoy..." He said quietly as he stimulated the woman to the point she came.
(My god, using my imagination, the horror. /s) Olena would take the time during travel to try to both make herself presentable and conceal the financial paperwork she had secured from Andropov's estate somewhere she was reasonably certain KGB observers (or their GRU rivals or other intelligence services, for that matter) wouldn't notice her setting a dead drop. She could surely not wander into the Lubyanka building in a classified piece of equipment such as her catsuit, surely? Thus, Olena was clad in the fearsome uniform of an agent of the KGB, wearing a dark gray double-breasted coat with red trim and gold piping, a military-style cap with the same tertiary colors, and a thin dress skirt. Of course, considering that even in the heart of the foreign intelligence service of the USSR that secrets must be upheld - evidenced by Mama heading a "mere contraband" office - her epaulets marked her as a junior officer of the State Border Guards... Of course, there was the hint of who she really was for the truly observant, considering her skirt was just a bit tighter and just a bit higher on her smooth, pale legs than would be permitted by military regulation. When she is finally confronted by "Valentina Sakova," Olena stands a little straighter as she faces her superior... In more ways than one, as the Amazonian Vixen's gaze drops to look at Mama's, er, huge "breadth of wisdom and experience." On that note, Mama probably could tell what the Ukrainian redhead was thinking... She still hadn't looked up. From her chest. "... Huh? Oh! Yes, ma'am!" A bit red in the face, she stepped forward and held out the microfiche for Mama's inspection... And herself a little straighter for further inspection by her superior. Roundabout was fair play, after all, and Olena wouldn't deny a bit of irrational feminine envy mixed with deliberate desire if pressed on the matter. (I figured Olena would be in a uniform, since you mentioned her wearing heels rather than boots. Lmk if she wasn't able to change or hide the documents, I will edit as necessary.)
