Penetrating the enemy

James had never been curious about other men. He didn’t experience an experimental phase in university. Didn’t even glance at his army buddies in the shower. So he wasn’t pleased when he was given this latest mission. He knew better than to argue with Command though. He did offer a few excuses, even suggested an alternative. Fairy Farnham would be better suited to this type of work, he’d said. But he knew it was useless. He’d read the intel, and it was obvious that he was the only man for this job.

Dmitri loved women. He lived for women. Even during his two years in Siberia he’d never been tempted, as others had, to share a bunk with a male comrade. So, when he saw his new orders, he argued bitterly. No way, he said, not me. Get Bum-chum Boris to do it. He’s the man for this mission. But he knew his protestations were pointless. He’d read the file. He knew he was the only one who could do this job.

Boris Farnham sipped a dry martini as he looked back over his last month’s reports. Spy work could be so tedious at times, he thought, with all those fast cars and beautiful girls. But being a double agent, he smirked, is turning out to be such a laugh.

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