Posted by TKDBB on June 02, 2001 at 12:56:44:
Cold Kill, by TKDBB
Britta had drawn some shitty duties but this had to be the worst. The twenty two year old Kriegsmarine Auxiliary had never imagined this when she had enlisted two years earlier and been sent to radio operators school. When her last orders came through three months earlier, she had thought them to be a joke. But the German Military never jokes. And here she was, on a barren bleak speck in the Artic circle refueling a generator in twenty below zero weather. It was a job that had to be done. The generator and it’s backup were the only source of power for the radios that she and her four companions manned twenty four hour a day, seven days a week. The station and a duplicate setup located near the South Pole received radio traffic from German Intelligence and the Kriegsmarine command via short wave and retransmitted the data via a Very Low Frequency system to the German submarines all over the globe.
The German girl worked the hand pump that transferred diesel fuel from barrels to the generator’s tanks. Her thoughts drifted to the rugged, handsome man she had met on her last leave in Hamburg. A Wermacht Captain, he had taken to the busty blond right away. They spent an idyllic week before she shipped out and he had to return to the Eastern Front. Tomorrow, her rotation would end and she along with Helga would ship home on the next supply plane. She wondered if her Captain was still alive. Rumors coming from the Russian Front were not encouraging.
Fifty yards away, buried in a snowdrift, Britta’s fate was being decided for her. Lieutenant Max Cooper watched the German girl through the scope of his personal 1903 Springfield 30-06 rifle. The gun, wrapped in white rags, was invisible to the naked eye in the wind whipped snow. Max’s body, clad in white snow gear, blended into the snow bank along with his rifle. The rifle was equipped with a small but effective silencer. That combined with the generator, wind noise and heavy insulation of the radio hut would make render his shot unheard by the other German girls.
Once the Allies finally figured out how the Nazis could maintain contact with their subs they wasted no time in stopping them. Several French female spies gave their lives to supply the radio frequency. Special equipment was built to triangulate the low frequency signal. Air traffic in the areas was monitored. A search of Military records produced several qualified snipers. Max had been airdropped the previous evening. A similarly trained man was dropped near the southern station. Max had hiked to the shack and dug into a snow bank. He waited. About six AM a lone figure left the shack and proceeded over to the generator. Even though it was dressed in a white snowsuit, the figure was decidedly female. The twin mountains on her chest proved that.
Max let the girl finish her task. His pick up was scheduled for tomorrow and he would have to spend the night in the shack. Heat would help. He watched with his finger poised on the trigger as she removed the hose and capped the tanks. The cross hairs converged on her left side and moved across her chest as she turned. At the precise moment, he held his breath and squeezed off one round.
Britta took one last look at the gauges and turned to go back to the shack. At that moment something hit her in the chest and staggered her backwards. She felt a burning sensation followed by creeping coldness. Her hand instinctively went to her chest. When she looked, her glove was covered with steaming red liquid. In the milliseconds it took for her brain to react, the dark cold took over her body and she tumbled in the snow.
“My God, I’ve been shot”, she stammered and then was still.
A minute later and no one had emerged from the shack. The Nazi babes were unaware of their comrade’s demise. Max wiggled from his snow bunker and switched weapons. He left the rifle and hefted a British Sten submachine gun. The gun held a thirty round clip. He pulled back on the cocking lever to load a round into the chamber.
Britta lay curled up in a spreading pool of red gore. Max didn’t even bother to check her body. At that range he never missed. The bullet had hit her low between her big tits. He knew it either hit the heart or one of the major arteries. Instead he crept up to the one small window of the radio shack and peered in with a small periscope device. On the far wall he could see a rack of electronic equipment. Two women sat at the consoles listening through earphones and tapping out messages on telegraph keys. A third girl worked at a stove to the right. All the girls were dressed in similar light tan wool sweaters that hugged their ample curves. A red armband with a white circle and black swastika identified their political affiliation. They had on brown pants and high brown leather boots. Max watched the brunette mix what looked like pancakes and pour batter into a large iron skillet. He noticed that she wore a sidearm on her hip. It appeared to be a Walther 9mm. Several rifles were stacked in a corner near the radios. Max panned the room and saw a small area divided by a drape. He assumed that was the latrine. On the wall he was near, he could make out the framework of bunk beds. He made a mental picture of the interior, noting the cook was the prime threat; then he approached the door with his Sten leveled.
A well-placed foot kicked the door open with a bang. The brunette dropped her skillet as the noise startled her. Then she reached for her Walther. The gun hadn’t cleared the holster when the Sten spat fire. A stream of hot lead tore into the girl’s belly. She clawed at her shredded, bloody sweater as she staggered back against the wall. Her pretty, young face twisted into a contorted mask of pain as she slid down the wall leaving a red trail from the ghastly exit wounds. The dying girl gagged and puked pink bile over her firm bust line, then her head flopped to one side as she expired.
The radio operators desperately tried to reach the rifles before the Sten gun slugs reached them. They lost. Max brought the spitting machine gun around in an arc. The young blond working the VLF radio took a burst across her slim back that picked her up and slammed her face first into the radio console as she tried to stand. The stitched babe slid off the radio and fell to the floor. She landed on her back, staring up with sightless baby blue eyes. The front of her tight sweater was turning red from four holes near her navel and left breast.
A scream of pain erupted from the other operator as a slug in her side spun her chest first into the Sten’s field of fire. The Amazonian redhead was stitched across the top of her gargantuan tits but she did not fall. With blood pouring from her side and chest, the girl staggered toward the rifles. Max corrected his aim and laced the girl with the last rounds from his clip. Seven murderous bits of flying lead punched in the girl’s crotch, belly and left breast. She twisted in a spasmodic dance of death before dropping face down six feet in front of her killer.
The carnage lasted less than ten seconds. Max heard a whimper of terror to his left and spun around. Lying in a bunk with the blanket pulled up to her mouth was another girl. She had been out of Max’s field of view with the periscope. The hammer of the Sten gun fell on an empty chamber. Max dropped the empty gun and pulled his 45 Colt sidearm. With his left hand, he pulled the blanket from the Nazi babe’s grasp. Then he grabbed the terrified girl’s arm and dragged her roughly from the bunk. Placing the gun to her forehead, he cocked the hammer. Sobs of fear mixed with pleas for mercy babbled from the Nazi’s lips. She spoke some English and readily offered her body in exchange for life.
“Bitte Amerikanisher, don’t shoot me!” “I’ll give you sex.” “My body is young and firm.”
Max looked at the girl more closely. She appeared to be in her early twenties with shoulder length blond hair. She was attractive while not stunning. The loose fitting cotton pajamas hid most of her curves but with the cold air streaming in through the open door, her nipples stood proud from her round, ample tits.
Max pulled out a chair and forced the girl to sit. She didn’t resist as he tied her arms behind her back around the chair. “If he was going to kill me, why tie me up.” she thought.
Pulling the rope around her had the added effect of accentuating her firm tits, hard nipples and slim belly. Max gave the girl a warning. “Make one false move and I’ll blow your fucking brains out!” Then he turned his attention to the dead girls. He checked them all for ID tags. The brunette had been named Rosa. Karen was the little blond and Rita had been the red head Amazon. Helga whimpered softly as he removed their boots and carried the bodies outside. He laid the three corpses in a row about ten feet from the shack. By the time he got to Britta, she was already getting stiff. He was able to remove her snowsuit and boots with some effort. After collecting her ID tag, he placed her with the other dead Nazis. He covered the girl’s bodies with a tarp and weighted it with fuel cans. Headquarters could send the tags to Berlin so that the remains could be found and given decent burials after the war. He had one smaller task. Max lowered the German Nazi flag and replaced it with a small Stars and Stripes. His signal to the pick up plane that the mission was a success.
Max had his pistol ready when he went back into the shack but Helga had not moved. Feeling more at ease for the first time since he landed, Max holstered his gun and removed his heavy outer clothing. The shack was cold but warming with the door closed. Helga was shivering in her pajamas. Max untied her and told her to get dressed. She sat on the edge of the bunk and wiggled out of her bottoms. Max could see she was a natural blond. Her hips and ass were smooth and white, firm and full. The girl’s legs tapered nicely from thigh down to ankle. She pulled on a pair of panties and a pair of wool socks. Then she stuffed her sweet ass into a tight pair of pants. She made a bit of a production out of unbuttoning and removing her top. Now that her initial shock and horror had subsided, Helga was beginning to formulate a plan. She figured that sometime the man would drop his guard and she would be able to kill him. He couldn’t know that a Nazi re-supply plane was due the next morning.
Max stared at the pretty little Nazi’s tits as she stuffed the firm melons into a tight bra. Helga clanked at him and saw the bulge in his pants.
“I thought you wanted to rape me,” she said with a dripping sensuality in her voice.
“We got plenty of time for that”, Max replied. “Right now I’m hungry and our chef is fast becoming an icicle”. “So put on your sweater and fix us some grub”.
Helga smiled to herself as she thought, ”I have him, he’s not going to shoot me.” “I just have to wait for the right moment”.
End of Part 1