Spy Swap, Part 7 (Special Agent to Hot Spy Girl TG)

A Commission for Al

Finn Langston is the best of the best, a dashingly handsome secret agent who always saves the world and always gets the girl. But when he is called upon by The Agency to infiltrate the private island of Sebastian Whitlock, a devious playboy industrialist who may be angling for world domination, Finn meets his greatest challenge yet: being turned into a raven-haired spy beauty to seduce Whitlock, and find out what he is planning. But the new and beautiful Fiona may find her cover going far, far deeper than she could have imagined . . .

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Part 7: Live and Let’s Dine

Adrian watched the video recording of Hayley’s responses. Fiona sat beside him, looking for any new clues. It was two days after the beach fight, one which Sebastian had profusely apologised for, all while admiring her win and clearly indicating that he knew her self-defence capabilities based on Alexandra Goodchest’s (fake) history files. She had spent the next day in comfort, and just as Hayley had promised, the darker-skinned woman had pulled Fiona aside after a wonderful morning banquet and taken her to the private gardens to speak. What she had said carried a lot of foreboding, and now that Fiona was on a ‘shopping trip’ off the island, she could give the details to Adrian.

“Here’s the important bit,” Fiona said, placing a hand on Adrian’s shoulder. He looked over her quizzically, stiffened a little, then continued to watch.

“There’s weird stuff going on here,” Hayley said in the recording. “But it truly is wonderful. Sebastian is such a brilliant man. His genius is so extraordinary that it makes a woman want to know her place, y’know?”

“I don’t,” Fiona said, also in the recording. “At least, not yet I don’t. What makes him so brilliant, in terms of what he’s doing here? Just between you and me, of course.”

Hayley sighed and smiled. “Well, beyond how dreamy and rich he is, he has a vision. A grand plan. None of us know it, and I swear we all have such awful memories when it comes to this sort of thing, because after a job’s done it barely plays in our minds anymore. We’ve got girls here who work in engineering like me, rocket scientists like Plenty O’Honey - that’s her real name, by the way - and chemists and biologists and all kinds! He has us work, and when we’re done, it’s off to a new thing. Of course, I haven’t had a new thing in months. I think my work’s done. And now I’m here and beautiful and stunning, right?”

“Right. But we did just have a knife fight.”

“Which you won! Congratulations. It’s just a bit of fun, honey.”

“You looked hypnotised. Or brainwashed. You all did.”

Hayley giggled. “It’s just a funny effect that comes over us sometimes. Don’t worry about it.”

“But you have some idea about this vision?”

“It’s something to do with space. And women. Oh, and those wonderfully handsome friends that Sebastian pairs us with. Not me, of course. I’m all his. At least I hope I’ll be. He tells us that not all of us can stay with him, and so we should enjoy the time we have. Quite a few of us will have to be the wives and girlfriends and concubines of his close friends, once everything is completed.”

Fiona in the present day clenched her firsts together, accidentally scratching Adrian’s shoulder a little. She apologised and pulled back. This already sinister plot felt much more sinister now knowing that it targeted women; the gender she now had to fill out. From how Sebastian looked at her, she feared she would be stuck close to him in whatever ghastly plot he had.

“Here is it,” she said to Adrian as he watched the tape from the microfilm.

“So you’re not allowed off the island?”

“I think I can leave, but who would want to? We’re all prettier now. My boobs didn’t used to be nearly so big, and my ass is amazing, don’t you think? Of course, you don’t need any changing, but I did before. You wouldn’t believe how some of us looked before.”

“Why does Sebastian leave the island then?”

“Oh, he’s such a busy man. And he has business on the mainland. The only time he took me off there was when I started to remember . . . something. He took me to this warehouse, but it wasn’t on the mainland, just one of the little islands around Arcadia that he owns. It had a big ‘forty five’ on it. Yeah. But that’s all I remember.”

The tape continued, giving more suspicious details about what was happening on Sebastian’s island of Arcadia. Transfers of technology, projects for spaceflight tests that were seemingly abandoned or forgotten despite having their pre-tests and projections completed, secrecy involving the inner workings of the facility areas. And, of course, the strange memory issues that came with all the women there, as well their overwhelming devotion to Sebastian Whitlock.

“Not to mention how incredibly attractive they all are,” Adrian noted. “If you’ll excuse me saying.”

His eyes lingered on her form. She was wearing a plain shirt and pants, but she would have looked devastatingly gorgeous in a paperbag.

I’d pull it off, too.

“Not at all,” she said. “It’s simple fact. What are the odds of so many specialists and geniuses in their fields looking like that, do you think?”

“Not exactly something I can run with numbers, but I’d say extraordinarily low, that’s for sure. Wait! Stop!”

She paused the film. In it, she had been talking to Denise Christmas again, the rather gorgeous latina woman who was a theoretical physicist. She was giggling as she answered the questions, half-reclined in a sunchair in her blue bikini, showing off much of her attractive form.

Of course, I rather think I look better. Especially in the chest department. Hmm . . . a strange thought to be having. Here’s hoping the mission goes quick.

“Fiona? Are you listening?”

She snapped to attention, irritated at herself for getting lost in her own . . . whatever the feminine version of suaveness was.

“Of course. What did you say?”

“I said that I know Denise Christmas. I’ve worked with her. Her work in theoretical physics is brilliant. She’s been missing for years now, though. We assumed she died in a yachting accident.”

Fiona turned to Adrian. “Are you saying that Sebastian is faking these women’s deaths before brainwashing them?”

He shook his head. “Worse, and until I knew about your particular case, I would have thought it impossible. You see, Denise Christmas, at least as I knew him, was Denny Christmas.”

Fiona’s eyes widened, and she stared at the beautiful woman frozen on the screen.

“I need to get to that warehouse forty five,” she said. “It’s our best lead. Especially if he might be doing this to them there.”

Adrian nodded. “I’ll come with you.”

“No you won’t. Women only, remember?”

But he reached out and grabbed her forearm with surprising intensity. “Not this time. We’ve got evidence that they’re doing freaky shit to the women on that island, and I’d rather not see you go that way and leave me in the dark. Besides, you’ll be breaking his security protocols anyway.”

Fiona could see the logic in that, but she still smirked. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were getting protective of me, Adrian. Don’t forget, I’m really a man.”

He looked her up and down.

“Well, to be fair, it is very easy to forget.”

She couldn’t help but chuckle at that. 

“C’mon. We’ve got a lot of planning to do and little time to do it. Sebastian wants me back on the island soon.”

***

“It’s just a little . . . appointment,” Sebastian said, passing her a glass of wine. “I hope you understand, Alexandra. Everyone on my island has to receive a sort of vaccination. There are little diseases and conditions specific to all island ecosystems, and this is our way of addressing it. I know it’s a big ask, but I truly want to keep you here. I’ve only known you a few days and already I find myself utterly admiring you.”

Fiona smiled delicately, trying to hide her inner disgust. Worst, there was also an inner arousal; his words really were making her feel quite beautiful, and he himself was damn handsome to her feminine brain. 

“Of course, Sebastian,” she said. “I’m happy to do anything to spend more time here, so long as there aren’t any more catfights on the beach! I can hardly believe that happened!”

“I’m so glad you’ve healed up nicely,” he said. “I didn’t expect that to happen at all, but the experience should leave your mind entirely after your next medical checkup, during which this little vaccine will be delivered of course. You have shown rare talent and hardiness for a model such as yourself.”

“I suppose it comes as a surprise to your aide.”

“Hmm?”

She smirked, placing her elbows on the table. “Carla Volpe, the one with the robotic arm. She doesn’t appear to like me very much.”

She nodded her head to one side, indicating the stoic woman who stood out by the balcony, keeping watch of the proceedings but hopefully out of earshot. 

Sebastian just chuckled. “Oh, that’s Carla alright. A fantastically . . . useful woman. A woman, heh, of her own mind, in fact.” He chuckled to himself again. “But not one to like many other women, or at least socialites like yourself, no matter how brilliant you prove to be. And how lovely.”

His gaze one more fell upon her body, and she fell under his scope.

This would be much easier if he wasn’t so damn handsome. As it is, I feel like I need to take a damn cold shower once I get out of this dress. And not with him, no matter how rock hard these nipples are.

She was having a private dinner with Sebastian, a large space of his own personal restaurant cleared for just the two of them. Exotic fish swam through the aquarium that served as the floor and ceiling, and the ambience was only increased by the powerfully intimate lighting. A shark swam by, and it reminded her very much of Sebastian.

Powerful. Handsome. Captivating. And predatorial. This is the man who still possesses Agents Thirty-Nine and Seven. Or worse . . . killed them.

She kept her smile up, adjusting her pose in her chair to emphasise her magnificent looks further. She was wearing a darling blue dress that showed all her best features. It hugged her magnificent curves, cupping her breasts so that they appeared even fuller and larger than they were; and they were plenty full already.

“Mr Whitlock, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were seducing me.”

Ugh. What a line. I bet it works, too.

Sebastian indeed chuckled earnestly. “I would hope that would be obvious, after the last several days. I’m only sorry I haven’t been able to make it my full time profession. Once this great business is conducted, things will be different, and I can devote all my energies to you, dear Miss Goodchest.”

She thrust out her chest a little deliberately, even as she plucked at her fine venison and took a sumptuous bite. She made sure to provide a delicate moan as ate; her ruby red lipstick only emphasised her raw sensuality as she ate. She needed to butter it on thick to ensure Sebastian fell hook, line, and sinker.

“What is this grand project, anyway? I’ve a mind for these sorts of things, and I’d love to devote resources where possible, but no one on this island seems to know what it is! Funniest thing!”

“I employ my own security concerns in order to make the project as decentralised as possible. Let’s just say it will be a wonderful surprise, and it will take the world by storm. One might argue it will never be the same again.”

“Is that why all those important gentlemen keep visiting the island? I’ve seen foreign secretaries, ministers of defence, and several leading businessmen! And not just from one place, but from all over the world.”

He tapped his mouth with a finger. “Hush on the details, dear. You never know who is listening. Suffice to say we have many interested parties, most of whom will be here tomorrow for the grand opening.”

Tomorrow. Damn. If only I could get the word out from here, but getting off the island will be near impossible, and I still have much to do. And Agent Spiros will be arriving soon.

“I just worry that I’ll be left behind, Sebastian. All these beautiful women on the reactionary island of Arcadia. Well, it makes a girl think she’ll have to share you.”

He dabbed at his chin with his napkin, cleared his throat. “That will not be a worry, I assure you, my dear. You are far and away more magnificent than the others. I can sense this sort of thing, when it comes to women. And tomorrow morning, when you receive the treatment, all will be assured. I know that’s all very vague, but I simply ask that you trust me, Alexandra. I truly want you, body and soul.”

Yikes. Creep alert. I think I’m starting to understand this woman’s intuition, if that crawling sensation on my skin means anything. Which it most surely does.

She bit her lip, extended a hand out to his. “Tomorrow then.”

“There is always tonight?”

“Oh, but a girl needs her beauty sleep. And besides, I can’t give in too easily, can I? You’ve got to earn me, Sebastian Whitlock.”

She stood, placing her fork and knife down expertly, and waltzed over. She couldn’t help herself; she was playing her part too well. She gave him a brief kiss on the cheek, cupping his magnificent goatee just briefly. 

“Tomorrow, then,” he said, absorbed in her.

“Tomorrow,” she repeated. Then she took her purse and walked away, her hips swaying delightfully, her dress showing off every curve. It would be a sight to see, if she could see it. She envied Sebatian Whitlock that, at least. 

But now her mind turned to more immediate concerns. Adrian would be arriving by the north shore under cover of darkness soon, and she needed to be there to greet him. 

And, just in case, she needed her Beretta. And her heels. And her lipstick.

And her rather explosive pearls.

To Be Continued . . .