by Van ©2017
FAN FICTION SET IN THE
WW-II ENGLAND OF FOYLE'S WAR
|OUR STORY CONTINUES
Naked, lashed to a chair and stool and barely able to move, gagged with a knotted cloth, and her skin crawling with the sensation of a thousand continuous pinpricks, Sam shivered in misery and tried her best not to move. The precursor drug, the first injection she'd received from the Hydra soldier without the helmet and goggles, was the cause of her distress, and now she was under threat of receiving two additional, simultaneous injections!
Naked, shackled with their hands raised over their heads and up on their toes, side-by-side against one of the barn's support posts, Peggy and Joan were helpless to come to her aid. Joan was gagged, like Sam, so all she could do was stare in horror. Peggy, on the other hand, had worked her gag loose, so at least she could lodge a protest.
"von Spitze, you bitch!" Peggy shouted, tugging on her shackles. "Stop! She's an MTC driver and that's all she is! I swear!"
"Control yourself, Agent Carter," the Baroness chuckled. "Your turn is coming."
The soldier with the double syringe stepped out of Sam's field of view, as she had before administering the first injection.
Suddenly, without warning, several things happened at once! Afterwards, Sam had a chance to at least try and sort it all out, but at the time, all her highly stressed mind registered was:
It was all over very quickly, and in the aftermath Sam blinked her eyes and realized that:
- The sound of breaking glass.
- A continuing series of loud coughing sounds.
- The brief, intermittent, staccato bark of the Hydra soldiers' submachine guns.
- The stench of burnt cordite, a smell she recognized from being at crime scenes involving recent gunfire.
All the newcomers were men, and their uniforms were a mix of Allied uniforms, arms, and equipment. They were staring at the three naked captives in horror and shock.
- All the Hydra soldiers were down. Some were still and some were writhing in pain.
- The Baroness was also down, and she was writhing on the floor. As Sam watched, the beautiful blonde's blue eyes widened, her mouth opened, and she screamed!
- Several strangers had appeared, having entered the barn precipitously from different directions through broken windows and now open doors.
Peggy was the first to recover from the change in circumstances. "Gentlemen," she said, "I am so very glad to see you. I knew you'd come to our rescue... eventually."
The HOWLING COMMANDOS!
Neal McDonough Bruno Ricci Kenneth Choi JJ Feild Derek Luke
Dum Dum Dugan
Jacques Dernier James Montgomery Falsworth
The men were carefully disarming and checking the status of the Hydra soldiers.
"Give us a break, Peggy," one of the men muttered. He was a burly Yank with a magnificent handlebar mustache, and was armed with a pump shotgun. Also, he was wearing (of all things) a bowler hat! "The Baroness covered her tracks well. This is the fifth possible hideout we had to scout."
"My apologies, Mr. Duggan," Peggy sighed, "and my thanks to the Howling Commandos." She tugged on her shackles. "I don't suppose you would know the whereabouts of whatever is left of my uniform, would you?"
"Mr. Duggan's" tan visibly deepened and he very carefully did not look at Peggy's breasts, or any other part of her naked, helpless body for that matter. The same could be said of the other rescuers. Dugan swallowed before answering, "Sorry Peggy, but the Hydras made a nice little bonfire in the barnyard. They were burning the last of a sack full of clothing as we attacked. So... sorry." He indicated the Baroness with the business end of his shotgun. She'd stopped screaming and was now on the floor in the fetal position, her features frozen in horror as she gasped for breath. "What's her problem?" He stooped and pulled the double syringe that had been intended for Sam from the Baroness' right buttock.
"Unfortunately," Peggy answered, "the Hydra soldier you shot was about to give Driver Stewart that injection and she stumbled into the Baroness as she fell, thereby giving her the injection."
"She went for her gun," Dugan muttered. He was looking at the unusual and decidedly sinister twin-needle syringe in his left hand. "What was in this thing?"
"Apparently, an experimental drug." Peggy tugged on her shackles, again. "Or rather, two drugs. Uh, gentlemen, I don't mean to impose, but..."
The rescue squad sprang into action. In a flurry of coordinated activity they dressed the wounds of the Hydra soldiers still alive, then tied their wrists behind their backs. The Baroness remained semiconscious and suffering some sort of distress, and as a precaution they tied her wrists as well. They then set to work untying Sam from her chair and releasing Peggy and Joan from their post. The very models of polite gentility, they continued averting their eyes as much as possible from the naked captives' bodies and limited their hands to untying knots, picking the locks of Peggy and Joan's shackles, and releasing Sam and Joan's gags.
It goes without saying that Sam was elated by their sudden and unexpected liberation, but the insidious precursor drug was still making her skin itch horribly. She hoped the titillating sensations would soon cease, but all she could do was fidget and try and smile in gratitude. Someone produced a rolled up, olive-drab raincoat, let it fall open, and draped it over her shoulders. She held it closed in front, deciding even limited modesty was worth the feel of the clammy, rubberized fabric against her hypersensitive skin.
Introductions were made. Mr. Dugan, who went by the unlikely moniker of Dum Dum, was one of three Yanks: Jim Morita, who was clearly of Japanese heritage, and Gabe Jones, who was colored. The squad was rounded out by Jacques Dernier, a Frenchman, and an Englishman by the name of James Montgomery Falsworth.
It was obvious that Peggy was well acquainted with the "Howling Commandos," as she had called the squad. She accepted a wool blanket from Gabe and draped it over her shoulders.
Falsworth was especially solicitous towards Joan. He removed his jacket for her to wear. Joan was appreciative. They weren't exactly flirting, but the mutual smiles were enough to make Peggy roll her eyes.
Just then they were joined by a rather suave, mustachioed civilian in a smart business suit, a very young Army Lieutenant in combat uniform, and a pair of British commandos escorting a pair of barefoot women draped with blankets and, by all appearances, otherwise naked. One was brunette and the other a redhead.
"Howard Stark," Peggy said, glaring at the civilian. "This is all your fault."
"Peggy," the civilian replied with a disarming smile. "You wound me."
"Don't tempt me," Peggy huffed, eliciting an appreciative chortle from the Howling Commandos.
"What have I done?" Howard demanded with an innocent shrug.
Peggy rolled her eyes, again. "If you hadn't insisted on our taking a ridiculous driving tour of half the English countryside, none of this would have happened."
"But it turned out so well!" Stark answered. "Bushy Park will be analyzing documents and interrogating prisoners for months, and I finally get to discuss the, uh..." He glanced at Sam and the others before continuing. "...automated collation and analysis of logistical statistics as done by Miss Clarke and her Bletchley Park colleagues."
Joan blushed and pulled her borrowed jacket closer.
"And in our defense," Stark continued, "Combined Operations had all the checkpoints under covert surveillance by teams of Commandos and Royal Marines."
"The ambush happened between checkpoints," Peggy observed coldly.
Howard shrugged. "They couldn't be everywhere." He nodded towards the Baroness, who was still writhing on the floor and mumbling in an incoherent manner. "And we caught von Spitze!"
Peggy continued glaring, then shook her head and shifted her gaze to the newly arrived, blanket-draped women.
Howard took the hint. "Allow me to introduce Doctor Saskia Vogel," he said indicating the redhead, then the brunette, "and Miss Mary Tuppen."
Peggy stepped closer to the redhead, reached out and gently took hold of her right hand, shaking it and examining the angry rope-marks encircling her wrists and the backs of her forearms. "Frau Professor Doktor Vogel," she purred, "I'm Peggy Carter."
"Agent Carter," the redhead replied with a nod and a weak, exhausted smile. "I..." She shuddered and began to weep.
Peggy opened her arms and hugged Vogel close. "We knew von Spitze insisted on taking you along on this harebrained operation, and we have a team of agents taking your parents to Zürich as we speak."
"Zhey are safe?" Vogel said in a tearful near-whisper.
Peggy hugged the red-haired German again. "We should receive confirmation at any time." She focused on the blushing, blanket-covered brunette.
"Mary Tuppen," Howard reiterated, indicating Mary with a polite bow. "She's from the neighboring farm and, unfortunately, witnessed your arrival. von Spitze's minions decided to capture her and... the usual Hydra cruelty happened."
Peggy scowled and shook her head, then forced a smile, released Dr. Vogel, and extended her hand. "Miss Tuppen." Mary blushed, or rather her blush deepened, as she shook Peggy's hand. "I'm very sorry," Peggy sighed.
"Twasn't your fault," Mary said quietly.
Peggy focused on the newly arrived officer and he snapped a smart salute. "Lieutenant Lethbridge-Stewart," he introduced himself.
Suddenly, the Baroness screamed, tugged on her bound wrists, and resumed writhing on the floor.
Peggy turned to Dr. Vogel. "The Baroness received an accidental injection of what she called the 'phase 2' drugs," she explained.
Vogel pulled her blanket closer and gazed at the distressed Baroness with a neutral expression. "Without zhe precursor?" She shook her head. "Zhat is bad. Zhat is very bad."
Just then, Sam suffered an intense wave of skin-crawling torment. At the same time, she began giggling. She couldn't help it. She blushed, furiously, and continued giggling.
"She was given the precursor," Peggy said to Vogel as she padded towards Sam.
Vogel padded forward as well. "She may be haffing a reaction. Careful or—"
Before Vogel could complete her statement, Sam gasped, her eyes rolled up in her head, and she collapsed into Peggy's arms, dead to the world.
||KEEP CALM AND RESCUE SAM—4
Sam opened her eyes and blinked, then lifted her head and looked around. She was lying on her back with her arms at her sides in what appeared to be an ordinary hospital room. The walls were whitewashed, her iron bed was painted white, and to her left was a metal side table, also painted white. The faint aroma of alcohol and disinfectants hung in the warm air. Draped across her body was a white top sheet made of parachute silk, and the same went for the bottom sheet underneath and the slipcase of the pillow cushioning her head.
She was naked. The bedclothes were feather light and smooth and—for want of a better word—silky against her skin... all of her skin. She shivered as she squirmed on the bed and between the sheets.
Oh-by-the-way, her fingers and hands were bandaged in some manner, her wrists restrained in some sort of padded cuffs, and her ankles similarly swaddled and restrained! Also, a padded bit was strapped in her mouth!
Sam's memory of her capture with Peggy and Joan by the Baroness and her female Hydra soldiers was crystal clear, as was her recollection of their rescue by the Howling Commandos, Howard Stark, and elements of the British Army... but she was a prisoner... again! What does it mean? she wondered.
On what she considered to be very much the plus side, the insidious effects of the horrible drug her captors had injected into her naked butt seemed to have abated completely. She was hungry and thirsty, but otherwise felt perfectly normal, ready to resume her driving duties and certainly ready to be released from the bed.
Just then, the hospital room's door opened and Peggy and Dr. Vogel, the redhead from the barn, entered.
A warm smile on her bright red lips, Peggy was back in olive-drab SSR uniform. I have to ask where she finds that ruby red shade of lipstick, Sam made a mental note. It's very attractive.
"She is awake," Dr. Vogel said, stating the obvious. Dressed in a starched white lab coat over a blue pinstriped blouse and navy blue skirt and looking very much the professional physician or scientist, she pulled back the silk top-sheet, exposing Sam's naked body from head to navel, and placed the seemingly ice cold steel disk of a stethoscope against Sam's chest, just above her right breast.
"Mrrrrm!" Sam complained.
"I am sorry, Miss Stewart," Vogel said, using her wristwatch and the stethoscope to measure Sam's heart rate, "but zhe tongue depressor is necessary until I haff confirmed zhere is no danger of you biting your tongue, und zhe silk sheets are for zhe comfort of your hypersensitive skin."
"Your formerly hypersensitive skin," Peggy clarified. "You had a reaction to the precursor drug."
"It is fortunate ve vere rescued before you received zhe second und third drugs," Vogel added. "Zhey might haff proven fatal." She then reached down and released the canvas strap padded with a thick layer of loose cotton from around Sam's right wrist, then the cotton mitten and loose cotton wrappings covering Sam's fingers and hand.
Meanwhile, Peggy stepped forward and did the same to Sam's left wrist and hand, then slid the top sheet lower and released Sam's ankles from similar restraints. "I assume you're giving her a clean bill of health?" she inquired.
"Affirmative," Vogel answered, then leaned close, unbuckled the padded strap securing Sam's bit-gag, and eased the padded bit from her mouth.
Sam licked her lips and worked her jaw. "Thank you," she said dryly, quite literally as her mouth and throat were parched.
"I am sure you are quite hungry und thirsty," Vogel said, then turned and headed for the door. "I shall arrange for zhe delivery of lunch," she said as she made her exit.
Sam waited until the door closed, then shifted her gaze to Peggy and whispered, "I take it she's not the enemy?"
Peggy smiled and nodded. "Saskia Vogel is German, but she's no Nazi and she certainly isn't Hydra. Her parents are safe in Switzerland and now she's working for the SSR... and the liberation of her homeland."
Sam nodded, then blushed, sat up in bed and, with Peggy's help, slid the top sheet over her naked body and up to her chin.
Still smiling, Peggy gave Sam's left shoulder a reassuring pat, then strolled to a wardrobe—more of a locker, actually—and opened the door. Inside, Sam could see a pair of garments hanging from hangers and covered with brown paper. Peggy stooped and picked up a white cardboard box, carried it to the bed, and removed its lid.
Peggy's smile faded as she lifted and held a pair of frilly, obviously expensive, and rather risque knickers. "Oh!" she huffed. "That man!"
"What man?" Sam inquired, blinking at the knickers with curiosity.
"Howard Stark," Peggy explained. "I might have known he'd do something like this when he volunteered to arrange for something for you to wear."
"That's for me?" Sam asked (and blushed).
"Yes, it is," Peggy sighed, "and it's all we've got at the moment."
"Well," Sam said quietly, "it's certainly better than nothing."
"I'll prepare your uniform," Peggy offered, then returned to the wardrobe/locker.
Sam slid from between the silk sheets... and managed not to slide all the way to the floor and land on her butt. The sheets were very slippery. In addition to the knickers, the box contained a pair of silk stockings, a garter-belt, a brassiere, and a slip, all very expensive and, not to put too fine a point on it, scandalously decadent. "Oh well," Sam sighed. "No one will see them under my uniform."
"What was that?" Peggy inquired as she ripped the paper from what to all appearances was a brand new MTC uniform and a tan trench coat.
"Nothing," Sam answered, then quickly dressed in the expensive underwear (taking time to make sure the seams of both stockings were properly aligned) then accepted a khaki-tan uniform blouse from Peggy, shrugged it over her shoulders, and began buttoning the buttons. "A perfect fit," she noted.
"Tailored, no doubt," Peggy huffed as she tossed Sam the green tie that went with the blouse. "He probably had someone sneak in and take your measurements while you slept."
"Howard Stark?" Sam asked with a blush and a grin as she knotted the tie with practiced fingers.
"Who else?" Peggy sighed, handing Sam the rest of the uniform components, one item at a time.
The skirt and jacket also fit perfectly, as did the brightly polished uniform brogans, a brand new, polished Sam Browne belt, and a billed cap. The ribbon for the BME she'd received after the D'Arcy Mansion Affair was pinned above the jacket's left breast pocket.
"There are also driving gloves and the trench coat," Peggy said, "as well as a leather valise with two more blouses and more underwear. Don't be surprised if there's also a card with Howard's private number tucked in there somewhere."
Sam willed herself to stop blushing (without success). "Where is Mr. Stark?" she asked as she properly aligned the belt with her jacket buttons in the mirror on the back of the wardrobe door. "I'd like to thank him."
"A couple of hours ago I found him in a conference room with Joan chatting in front of a chalkboard covered with what was either a circuit diagram or a map of the London underground, possibly both, and overlaid with numbers, Greek letters, and arcane symbols. The next time I passed there was an MP at the door with a sten gun. He wasn't smiling so I didn't knock." Her smile returned. "Don't get me wrong. Howard Stark is both a brilliant scientist and a mechanical genius, wealthy as Croesus, and not nearly as much of a cad as he likes to pretend. Anyway, we should leave him to his consultations with Joan... which none of us are free to discuss."
"I understand," Sam said with a grin, "or rather, I don't understand, and therefore can't and won't be discussing anything with anyone."
"Just so," Peggy grinned back, pulled a brand new hairbrush from a side pocket of the new valise, handed it to Sam, then continued handing Sam hairpins, one at a time as needed, as she brushed and arranged her hair in proper military fashion. Peggy then gestured towards the door. "Come. I'll see that your new coat and Howard's other cheeky and intimate gifts find their way to the boot of your car."
Sam frowned. Other gifts? Then her smile returned and widened. "The Wolseley? They also rescued the Wolseley?"
"Yes, they 'rescued' your Wolseley," Peggy chuckled. "Now, come. There's someone who is very anxious to see you."
"Who?" Sam demanded as, her cap tucked under her left arm, she was shepherded from the room.
"Someone," Peggy answered with an amused, enigmatic smile Sam found to be somewhat irritating.
||KEEP CALM AND