"Good morning, sir. Can I help you?"

"I certainly hope so," replied the tall man. "Do you sell foreign cigarettes here?"

"We do carry some foreign brands, yes sir. Which were you looking for?"

"Bucannans."

The girl nodded once and reached under the counter pulling out a package of cigarettes clearly marked with the brand name 'Huffman's Blend'.

"Were these what you wanted, sir?" inquired the salesgirl setting the package on the counter.

The tall man looked carefully at the package and then picked it up.

"Yes, thank you. These are exactly what I came for."

The girl nodded once again and walked away into the back room.

The man tore open the package of cigarettes. Inside the package was divided into two sections. One side held a small tape player, the other a miniature tape and a few small photographs. The man put the tape into the player and began to look over the photographs.

"Good morning, Mister Phelps," said the voice on the tape. "The men in the photographs are Colonel Janos Pavoric and Major Gregorish Krarn, two ruthless Eastern Block top security officials. Recently Krarn captured Robert Mitchell, one of our key western operatives behind the Iron Curtain. Krarn knows that Mitchell knows the operating sequence for NATO's conundrum encryption cipher, and is torturing him to gain those codes. Pavoric has in his possession a document, stolen from the West, containing the names of our operatives currently active in Eastern Block nations, encoded using conundrum. Tomorrow afternoon, Pavoric will fly in from Moscow with the list and meet with Krarn. If Pavoric succeeds in decoding the list, all of our agents in the east will be in danger of capture, torture and execution." Phelps took a breath his face grim.

"Your mission," continued the voice on the tape, "should you decide to accept it, will be to safeguard the identities of our eastern agents, and recover or destroy the list of our operatives and prevent Pavoric and Krarn from getting the decryption cipher codes from Mitchell. As usual, should you or any member of your IM Force be caught or killed, the Secretary will disavow any knowledge of your actions.

"Good luck, Jim. This tape will self destruct in five seconds."

Phelps returned the photographs to the cigarette package, closed it and set it back on the counter.

Exactly five seconds after the end of the message, smoke began to drift out of the cigarette package as the photographs, the tape player and the taped message melted into a sticky, unrecognizable mass of burned plastic and fused metal. By the time the package had finished destroying itself, Jim Phelps had left the smoke shop, a plan of action already forming in his= mind.

*I* *M* *F*

For so vital and urgent an assignment, there was little doubt in Phelps's mind which members of the IM Force's team of experts he would call upon. He looked over the group at the hastily called meeting in his apartment.

Rollin Hand, the talented master of disguise and deception, was frowning as he looked over a series of large color photographs of Major Krarn.

"It's not a lot to go on, Jim," he said, his voice tinged with doubt. "If I had more time..."

"Time is the one thing we don't have, Rollin. Can you do it, with just those and the voice tape?"

"As long as Krarn's aide, Goshovich is out of the way. He's worked closely with Krarn for years. He could be a problem."

Phelps responded quickly, "Goshovich won't be around to bother you. I promise." Rollin smiled and dropped the photographs on the coffee table in front of him. "It'll be a challenging role."

Jim nodded, encouraged by Rollin's response. "Barney?"

"No problems here, Jim," replied Barney Collier, the IMF's top electrical and mechanical wizard, with his typical calm. "I have the whole thing mapped out. It'll be a little tight moving around in that ventilation system, but I can manage."

"What about you, Willie? You know what you have to do?"

"Yes," said Willie Loomis, the team's top support man and a physical= Hercules.

"That leaves you, Cinnamon," said Phelps. "Your job will be the toughest. Are you up for it?"

"Oh, I think so," answered Cinnamon Carter, the beautiful, frosty blonde, who's obvious sex appeal could distract any man's mind from whatever business was at hand. A sultry smile appeared on her gorgeous face as she added, "After all, my job's just doing what comes naturally."

*I* *M* *F*

The guards posted in front of the home of the notorious Major Krarn tensed as the black staff car, followed closely by a military truck pulled to a stop at the curb. Their challenge to its authority to stop there died in their throats, however, as the back door of the staff car opened up and Major Krarn himself climbed out.

The Major ignored the guards astonished faces and instead watched as the driver of the truck scrambled out of the cab and hurried around behind the vehicle, where he lifted a large, very heavy looking container from the back of the truck. Apparently satisfied, Krarn then started up the short walk to the gate in front of his home.

The senior guard steeled himself and stepped into the Major's path.

"Get out of my way," snapped Krarn. "Begging the Major's pardon, sir," said the guard quickly, "but we were not informed that the Major was not at home, sir."

Krarn looked from the first guard to the second, then back to the first.

"You have been on duty here what...? Twenty minutes?"

"Yes, sir," replied the guard.

"Then if you wish to remain on duty here, instead of joining the apparently incompetent guards on the watch before yours when they assume their new posts in Siberia, you will get out of my way and let me back into my home!" Major Krarn's temper was as well known in the ranks as his ruthlessness. The guard immediately moved aside.

"Much better," growled Krarn moving through the gate. The big truck driver trailed after him, carting the big container effortlessly. When Krarn vanished through the front door of his house, the driver followed him in and the two guards sagged noticeably with relief.

Inside Major Krarn's home, Willie Loomis set the big container down beside the door.

"So far, so good," said Rollin Hand, in his own voice, rather than the harsher tones of Major Krarn. "Let's find our package."

Willie nodded and the two men moved upstairs, where the sound of a running shower could be clearly heard.

Krarn was inside his bedroom, wearing his robe and smoking a cigarette. He heard a sound at the door and looked up to see a mirror image of himself standing there. The Major's momentary shock at this sight gave Rollin the time he needed to cross the room and put Krarn out with a right to the jaw.

Willie picked up Krarn and carried him back downstairs. Rollin opened up the big container and Willie stuffed Krarn into it. Rollin pulled out a hypo containing a special knockout drug to make sure that the unconscious Krarn stayed quiet. Suddenly Rollin frowned. "The shower," he announced, remembering.

Willie nodded and went back upstairs. Rollin finished injecting Krarn with the drug, then closed the lid on the container, sealing him inside. He took a breath. As Willie came back down the stairs, Rollin picked up the telephone and dialed a special memorized number.

"This is Major Krarn," Rollin barked into the receiver as the party at the other end of the line answered. "Get me Captain Goshovich. Immediately!"

*I* *M* *F*

Captain Igor Goshovich of the Secret Police flushed the toilet and backed out of the cramped little bathroom, into the grimy apartment. He looked at the powerful telescope sitting next to the open window a moment before returning to his post, observing the American spies in the building across the street.

Why he had to be here, Goshovich did not know. He had been telephoned this morning by Major Krarn who had insisted that he personally keep an eye on these Americans. Though he had not given any reasons, the Major had said that he suspected these two might be involved some way with Mitchell, the important spy that Colonel Pavoric was personally coming to interrogate.

The Major had been in no mood to receive any questions as to why Goshovich needed to do this himself and the grumbling thought that such duties as this were beneath him was foremost in the captain's mind as he peered into the eyepiece, once again bringing into focus the interior of the much nicer apartment were the Americans were staying.

There were two of them -a black man and a very attractive blonde woman. They had arrived twenty minutes earlier. Without saying a word to each other the man had undressed and gone to sleep on the bed and the woman had vanished into the bathroom. Women could be a very long time in bathrooms, Goshovich knew.

Such trivial thoughts immediately fled from Goshovich's mind, however, as the blonde woman came out of the bathroom, gloriously naked. Goshovich's mouth watered as he watched the blonde move across the room and crawl onto the bed next to the black man. She hovered over him for a moment, then slowly lowered her head toward the man's groin.

The man awoke suddenly to find the blonde sucking on his cock.

"What=85 what's going on?" Barney Collier mumbled, his voice tinged with static as it traveled through the hidden microphone and across the street to the speaker sitting beside Goshovich.

"What do you think is going on?" said Cinnamon Carter, giving the head of Barney's giant black dick a playful lick. "Our contact probably won't call for at least a half hour. That means we have plenty of time for me to rehearse for my part."

"Rehearse?" smirked Barney. "You need to rehearse for this, like a fish needs to rehearse how to swim."

Cinnamon only smiled at him and gave his cock another lick. "So?" she replied simply.

Barney realized that he was rock hard. He fingered her pussy and felt the juice run into his palm. She was ready, too. He rolled her over, mounted her, and drove his meat into her hot cunt.

"Fuck me back, you little slut!"

"Yes... ohhhh, yessss," moaned Cinnamon.

Moving his hands under her ass cheeks, taking a firmer grip his strong arms lifted the weight off her legs.

"Put your legs up," ordered Barney. "Put 'em around my waist. Oh, Cinnamon, baby, you're so fucking good, tight! It's good fucking like this!"

Tentatively, she raised one leg. Then she threw the other leg up and locked her ankles. The cock up her belly seemed to grow longer and plant its hot, jerking tip deeper than ever.

"Now fuck," Barney sighed. His fingers slipped into the open crack of her ass. One found the rear entry. "Make that sweet pussy bite me," he hissed, twisting a finger up her rectum. "Sweet, sweet pussy... fuck me, fuck my cock!" he growled.

"I love it!" Cinnamon managed to sigh, knowing that he was beyond hearing, beyond caring what she said. But she loved the feel of his big black cock inside her. Her body felt light, charged with electricity. Her tight cunthole snapped. Her puckered asshole sucked lovingly on his finger.

"Ohhhh, good cock... good fuck! You 're clear up my fucking throat with it!" she cried.

"Faster," Barney demanded. "Fuck faster! Screw that sweet cunt around like that. . . yesssss!"

Planting his feet wide apart, giving himself more room, more leverage, he began to hump the length of his rod in and out of her pussy like an animal. He slammed her fluid ass cheeks against the mattress, grunting with each lunge. He tried to hurt her, bruise her, and she loved it.

Cinnamon wiggled, fucking him with all her might. mind and body, trying to bring them both to orgasm. She felt the knob of his mighty cock swell and jerk in the slippery depths of her sheath and fucked her hips, her cunthole even faster.

She wrapped her arms tight at his neck. She strained her legs at his waist and rested her head in the crook at his shoulder while she gyrated her pussy furiously around on his black meat.

Pulling far back, Barney slammed into her. Sweat broke out on his brow as his long cock dipped again and again in her hot, juicy hole.

Cinnamon could feel his big hairy balls growing tense with the force of the cum-load her tight cunt was coaxing from him. The hands on her ass pulled her close with each forward stab, forcing her unto him. She felt only the exquisite driving goodness, only the thrust of his prick.

From his vantage point across the street, Goshovich's hand reached down, opening his zipper to release his painfully bunched cock from his trousers. He began to slowly jerk himself off as he watched Barney seeking Cinnamon's moist, parted lips. He watched as their mouths fused, the black man's tongue beginning to piston in time to his cock and the finger that was fucking her asshole.=20

Cinnamon gasped as the hands on her ass cheeks became cruel, steel claws. Batting her inner cunt muscles on the vibrating shaft, she sucked his tongue and held her breath in anticipation of the first thick gush of his cream in her dilated pussy.

It seemed to take forever. Her lungs, she was certain, were going to burst through her chest and leave her firm, pink-tipped titties shredded. She worked her ass frantically, bumping, grinding, milking the fat head of his magnificent black cock.

Goshovich, too, was pumping away, his eye pressed tightly against the glass eyepiece, his attention entirely focused on the wanton spectacle across the way.

"Have you got any more?" Cinnamon cried.

"Yeah... right away. Fuck me back!" Barney yelled. Then his cock was again pumping, spurting another load of his hot jism up her clasping hole.

"Yes, give it to me! Fill me up with it! I'm coming too!" Cinnamon gasped. Moaning, pinching his waist in the vise of her thighs and kneading his spitting dick in the tighter, hotter vise of her cunt, she gulped the semen with her cunt hole. She squealed and made her pussy suck his thick cream. She felt it glide down the walls of her sheath. Out it came, searing the puffy pink lips of her pussy, and dripping wet and sticky down the crack of her ass. She sucked his mouth. She worked her stomach, making it ripple, making the ripples spread through her sex until her sensitive clit began to fire the heat, the thrill, and the fireworks of her orgasm.

Then, suddenly, the cock in her belly stopped its fucking. With a long, loud groan, Barney emptied himself into the blonde's hot, sucking cunt.

In sympathy, Goshovich came too, spurting a sticky white geyser up into the air. The electric tingles of his orgasm were still running through his system as he felt the sharp stabbing pain, and a second later, everything went black as he fell face forward, nearly toppling over the telescope as he pitched onto the ground.

Jim Phelps pulled the empty hypodermic needle out of Goshovich's back and returned it to his pocket. The drug he had shot into Goshovich wasn't fatal, but would leave all the symptoms of a heart attack when Goshovich recovered in several hours. Phelps pulled out a small walkie-talkie and, readjusting the telescope, peered through.

"All clear," he said. "Ready to proceed.

In the room across the street, Cinnamon and Barney had collapsed into each other and laid still. As Phelps' voice came out of the matching walkie-talkie hidden beside the bed Cinnamon began to giggle.

"I'm ready for my close-up, Mr. DeMille," she laughed.

*I* *M* *F*

The truck that pulled up behind the Security Headquarters Building looked like any of the other military vehicles in the lot. Behind the wheel, Willie backed the truck up until its back end was pressed against the building.

As soon as the engine shut off, Barney Collier opened up the secret compartment hidden in the floor of the truck and climbed out. Immediately he went to work removing the grill over the large ventilation duct set into the wall of the building. As soon as the cover was off, he climbed into the shaft beyond.

Willie fitted the shaft cover back into place and climbed out of the truck. He went around front and opened the hood. He quickly disconnected some wires and then started fiddling with things as if trying to fix the vehicle.

*I* *M* *F*

Captain Roshov was a sadistic, cruel man, who delighted in the power of life and death he held over the prisoners in his charge. Still, even he came quickly to attention as the ruthless Major Krarn came through the door, dragging a beautiful, though somewhat disheveled, blonde behind him.

"At ease," snapped the Major, throwing the blonde woman against the side wall. He spared her a moment for a glance of disgust, then turned his attention to Roshov. "Our guards at the boarder caught this American whore trying to smuggle secret papers out to the West. Because of Colonel Pavoric's visit, I do not have time to properly interrogate her now. But while I am busy with the Colonel, I want you and your men to soften her up -if you know what I mean."

Krarn stepped over to the blonde and grabbed her blouse, savagely tearing it off her.

Roshov and his men gazed appreciatively at the woman's firm, ample breasts, barely concealed by her lacy bra. "Of course, Major," replied Roshov eagerly. "I know exactly what you mean."

With a single nod of his head Krarn started back toward the door. "Captain Roshov," he said sharply, without turning back around, "do not damage her. I may want to use her myself, before I question her."

"Of course, sir," replied Roshov, as his superior vanished out the door. In the hallway outside, the man who looked exactly like Major Krarn paused for only a second before continuing down the hallway to where the captured Western agent was being kept. Now it was his job to get that man safely away. For the time being, Rollin thought, Cinnamon was on her own. He had no doubts that she could more than handle anything the men might throw at her.

Inside the office, Cinnamon stayed close against the wall, appearing to be exactly what she was supposed to seem to be -a frightened American female trapped and alone in an Iron Curtain prison.

"Understand this," said Roshov nastily, as he advanced on Cinnamon, "Major Krarn thinks nothing of disposing of beautiful women but he does know what it means not to waste a talented whore. There will be punishment for you, you blonde haired slut, but it might go easier on you if you behave yourself."

Roshov grabbed Cinnamon's shiny blonde hair and twisted it around his hand. Then he placed his other hand on her left shoulder and pushed her down on the floor.

He pointed to two of the guards in the room with him.

"You and you," he ordered, "come over here and take out your penises." The two guards walked over, stood in front of the glamorous blonde, and pulled down their zippers. They each worked their cock out from their underpants and their organs instantly stiffened as they looked at the sparkling blue eyes and the golden blonde hair of the woman who was kneeling before them.

"You sergeant," Roshov told him, " hold the girl in place so that she will not move."

Immediately, the sergeant complied. He stood behind Cinnamon and held her by her smooth neck and shoulder.

Captain Roshov pulled down his zipper and took out his own mammoth slab of masculine meat. His penis stiffened and lengthened until it became an enormous, pulsating erection.

"All right, men," Roshov instructed, "we shall now all proceed to come all over this young woman's face and in her mouth. Let us commence at once." Roshov stepped forward and rammed his bulbous cock head against Cinnamon's sensual lips. The sergeant squeezed the back of her neck and she opened up her mouth. Roshov slid his meaty pole into her face and just kept jamming his cock head deeper and deeper into her throat until his pubic bush buried the flawless skin of her face and his greasy balls pressed up against her chin.

One of the guards poked the tip of his hardened organ right into Cinnamon's right eye and the other guard slid his cock up along the smooth skin of the left side of her gorgeous face. This guard just kept maneuvering his erection up and down along her face while he wrapped her shiny, blonde hair around his huge testicles. The other guard slid his thick tool up along the woman's forehead and inserted his prick into her golden blonde hair.

And so, the three soldiers rapidly and savagely fucked the elegant blonde woman's face. The one guard pulled his erection in and out of her hair while the other one kept sliding his cock along the front of her face. Meanwhile, Roshov rhythmically fed his huge slab of tubular, vein streaked meat in and out of her wet, hot mouth.

The guard who was fucking her face came first. He spurted several bullet like bursts of whitish, sticky semen onto her cheek and as he kept fucking her face he spurted drops of gooey jism all over the left side of her face. The other guard shot his immense load into her golden blonde strands.

A few moments later, Captain Roshov blasted a glob of boiling scum against the back of the woman's throat. He kept drawing his broad instrument in and out of her mouth while he pumped drop after hot drop of viscous jism down her gullet. As soon as Roshov pulled his penis out from Cinnamon's face the two guards stepped back away from her.

"Stand up," Roshov ordered.

Slowly, Cinnamon climbed to her feet. As soon as she was standing, Roshov grabbed the hem of her maroon skirt and pulled it up along her body until all of her white panties were out in the open. Then he grabbed the cheeks of her taut ass and squeezed the slightly loose skin through the thin material of her panties. He inserted his right hand between her thighs and rubbed his fingers up and down over her hairy vagina.

"Nice," Roshov complemented her. He pulled his hand away and let the skirt fall back into place. "Quite nice, indeed. But I like to see what I'm playing with. Strip!"

Roshov's tone offered no chance for opposition. Cinnamon unsnapped and unzipped her skirt. She pushed the skirt down to her ankles and stepped out of it. Then she pushed her panties and her gartered stockings down to her ankles. The guards hungrily eyed her extensive, furry, blonde pubic bush and her flat, shapely tummy. Long, blonde pubic strands hung down between her thighs and her thick, squiggly cunt lips were sticking up into the air. A sliver of pink membrane could be seen between her labia, within all those blonde, pubic strands.

Roshov pushed his pants and his underpants down to his ankles. His revitalized cock stood out straight and stiff from his lower belly and the erect tool twitched all over.

He stepped up to Cinnamon and placed his left hand over her left breast. He slipped his fingers beneath the cup of Cinnamon's bra and moved his hand along her firm mound and then squeezed her prong like nipple between his fingers. He pulled out his hand and moved it down along the front of her smooth, lithe body. Then he brushed his hand over her blonde pubic bush.

"Get down on your hands and your knees," he ordered the blonde beauty, "with your ass to me, sticking way up into the air."

Cinnamon got down on her hands and knees with her provocative, tight ass pointing towards Roshov. He could see her delicate face with its dark, brown, somewhat thick eyebrows and her soft, blue eyes.

Roshov went down on his knees behind Cinnamon and placed his hands over her tits. He scraped the tip of his engorged member along her cunt slit and he could feel her pubic strands scrape along the hardened flesh of his cock head. He pressed the tip of his organ into the bottom of the crack of Cinnamon's ass, which was stuffed with long strands of blonde hair. As he slid his cock head upwards through the crack of her ass he worked the head of his enormous erection into the crack.

And then the State Secret Police officer gritted his teeth and lunged his lengthy tube of vein streaked meat all the way up into the young woman's tight, tight asshole until his penis vanished into her slender, sexy body. Cinnamon let out a piercing shriek Roshov just laughed in response and began to frantically hump the girl's asshole like an animal. His huge body loomed over her small, but highly sensual body.

Roshov moaned and groaned softly as he kept on driving his long, thick pole in and out of Cinnamon's asshole. He placed his hands over the taut cheeks of her ass and his balls slammed into her cunt lips while he kept on brutally sodomizing her. As he fucked her asshole with more and more fury his moaning and groaning grew louder and louder until at last he was growling from his guts just like the sort of animal which he presently resembled.

Cinnamon let out a little groan, which Roshov mistook for a sign of pain. In fact Cinnamon felt no pain. She felt only bliss, the fire, the friction of a dick stoking her furnace. Cinnamon enjoyed being buttfucked and her ass had been used by many men, many times before. It had only been Roshov's unexpected and violent entry that had caused her to cry out. Now, as the Captain, cruelly raped her ass, Cinnamon Carter could only struggle to hide the erotic shivers flashing through her body.

"You guard," Roshov grunted, to the one guard who had not yet been allowed to use Cinnamon. "Take her mouth!"

Immediately the guard had his pants down and pressed his cock bead between Cinnamon's lips until the tip of his pulsating member knocked against her teeth. As he maneuvered his instrument into her mouth she parted her lips and he stuffed his meaty organ into her mouth and immediately began humping her face, sliding his cock back and forth along her tongue and ramming the tip of his erect penis against her upper palate.

Roshov opened his mouth and let out a loud piercing whining sound. His face turned beet red as he squirted slithers of steamy jism into Cinnamon's constricted anus. He leapt drawing his erection in and out of her asshole and pounding his hairy loins against her taut buttocks while he spurted the remaining droplets of his awesome load into her slim, small body. The muscles within his groin clenched tighter and tighter together until the last traces of his come were wrung from out of his scum storage sacks.

The guard gave a final, strenuous thrust with his hips and he smashed his immense slab of tubular meat right down into Cinnamon's throat. He grunted over and over and then he suddenly extracted his erection from her face. He ejected a long, whiplike bolt of smelly semen onto her tongue just before he pulled his cock head out from between her sensual lips. Then he pressed his piss slit against the front of her face and shot drops of semen all over her soft, smooth, baby like skin. He inserted his convulsing organ into her blonde hair and covered his penis with her silky, lustrous strands while he dribbled the final bits of his orgasmic goo into her hair.

Both Roshov and the guard heaved out long sighs of relief and then they looked at each other. Their grins reflected the utter satiation which they had just each experienced.

"That was good," Roshov stated. "But we are not finished with you yet." The consummate professional, Cinnamon's eyes went wide with mock fear, but her body almost betrayed her with a shiver of excitement at the thought.

*I* *M* *F*

Inch by inch, Barney Collier moved through the tight maze of ventilation shafts. Before he reached his destination, he could already hear Major Krarn's voice, or rather Rollin's voice, faintly ahead.

"This is the man you came for," Barney heard Rollin say. "Robert Mitchell, American spy. The man who has the decryption cipher key code to break Conundrum."

"But the question is, Major," replied Colonel Pavoric, "have you broken him yet?"

Rollin hesitated a moment before answering. "Not yet, Major. We have tried, of course, but he is strong willed. He refuses to talk."

Barney pulled himself into position so that he could see what was happening in the office below through the grill of the air vent.

Rollin was standing, moving around the room. Pavoric was sitting at the desk with his back toward Barney. Slouching in a chair in the corner of the room, was Mitchell, obviously the worse for wear after the real Major Krarn's attempts to beat the Conundrum code out of him. Barney grinned with satisfaction as he saw Pavoric take a sip from a cup of coffee before speaking.

"Tried is not good enough, Major," snapped Pavoric. He took another sip of coffee. "I have come a long way for what this man has to offer. I do not intend to go home with out the key to this=85" He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out an envelope which he slapped down on the table.

"Is that the list?" checked Rollin.

"Yes," responded Pavoric. "The only copy. I keep it with me at all times for security reasons. It is of immeasurable value and the West would do anything to get it back."

"Yes," agreed Rollin. "Anything."

"We will break this man! I must have the cipher key!" Pavoric tried to stand up and, finding that his legs would not support him, dropped back down heavily into his chair.

"Is something wrong, Colonel?" inquired Rollin, carefully observing Pavoric's condition.

"I don't know," answered the Colonel, his speech becoming slurred. "I feel My head... I," Pavoric put his hands out trying to hold onto the desk, trying to steady himself from the room that was spinning wildly around him. His hands slipped forward and he fell face first onto the desk, completely unconscious.

Mitchell watched curiously as Rollin checked out Pavoric, assuring himself that he would be out for some time, then hurried over and began unfastening the air vent cover.

Head first, Barney crawled out of the vent and into the office. He went over to Mitchell.

"Look," he said, "we don't have a lot of time. This man here is not Major Krarn. He's an American agent. So am I. We're here to get you out.

Unfortunately the only way is through that air vent and then through the ventilation system. Can you make it?"

Immediately Mitchell was on his feet. "To get out of this hellhole?" he said. "I can make it."

Barney smiled and clapped Mitchell on the shoulder. "All right then, let's go."

*I* *M* *F*

Jim Phelps parked his car on a quiet side street six blocks from his destination. He glanced at his watch, then got out of the car and went into the restaurant across the street to wait.

Inside the trunk of the car, Gregorish Krarn slept peacefully in his drugged slumber.

*I* *M* *F*

The coded list carefully secured in his pocket, Rollin, left the unconscious Colonel Pavoric in Krarn's office and walked calmly through the halls filled with soldiers down to the prison section of the building. As he approached the door to Roshov's office, he could hear moaning through the door.

Pushing open the heavy door, he was greeted with a sight that immediately made him go hard in his pants.

There naked on the floor was the beautiful Cinnamon Carter, with one guard's cock in her cunt, another fucking her ass and the third guard's organ jammed down her throat.

"Ah, Major," greeted Roshov cheerfully, momentarily turning his attention away from the spectacle in front of him, "as you can see, sir, we are working on this American whore as you instructed."

"Yes," replied Rollin, as the guard fucking Cinnamon's mouth came, splattering his load all over her face. "So I see."

Cinnamon let out a moan and started to shiver as first the guard fucking her ass, then the one in her cunt came within seconds of each other. Both guards pulled out, fully spent, leaving a scummy mess between the blonde's legs.

Rollin walked over and looked down at Cinnamon, smiled whorishly up at him and gave him a secret wink.

"Do you wish to try her out now, Major?" inquired Roshov. "She really is quite an exceptional little slut."

"Yes," replied Rollin, making Cinnamon's eyes go wide. "I believe I will."

Rollin knelt down quickly and grabbed Cinnamon roughly, flipping her over onto her hands and knees. Swiftly he pulled free his cock and rammed it fully into Cinnamon's well used cunt. The blonde let out a deep moan, letting her head fall forward as Rollin's giant meat filled her.

"Captain, come here!" ordered Rollin.

Roshov quickly obeyed, positioning himself in front Cinnamon. Rollin grabbed a handful of the woman's blonde hair and pulled her head up so that Roshov's hardening prick was pointed at her face.

"Whore," Rollin said, "while I am fucking you, you shall keep your head raised and suck on the captain's cock. When you detect that he is ready to come, you are to open your mouth so that I can watch his semen spurt into your beautiful face. Is that quite comprehensible, whore?"

"Yes, Major," Cinnamon replied, trying to conceal her excitement. She knew it was Rollin that was actually going to fuck her, not Major Krarn, and the thought of her own teammate using her in such a way made the whole business seem doubly perverse and doubly exciting.

"Good," snapped the man with Major Krarn's face.

Roshov stood next to Cinnamon's head and grabbed her blonde hair. He proffered his fully erect organ to her and she turned her head and looked up at his face with her exquisite green blue eyes. Roshov pressed the tip of his penis between Cinnamon's extremely erotic lips and she opened her mouth wide. He stuffed his tubular slab into her mouth until her gums pressed upon the stretched skin of his staff and then he kept forcing his penis further and further into her face until his cock head was completely inserted within her throat. Then he placed his other hand against Cinnamon's forehead and began to energetically fuck her face.

Cinnamon closed her lips and cupped her left hand around Roshov's huge testicles. She placed her other hand over his pubic bush with her thumb pressing up against the base of his meaty instrument and she sucked eagerly and expertly upon his mammoth tool, drawing in her cheeks and extending her lips so that his prick was thoroughly sealed within her face.

Rollin watched this procedure and then he slowly extracted his long, long, broad tube of hardened flesh from Cinnamon's gripping dripping vagina until only about half of his cock head remained within her membranous cavity. He brushed his hand over the outer lips of her cunt and her long, curving, blonde pubic hairs scraped along the skin of his palm.

Then he rammed his flesh spear all the way into the beautiful woman again and began to hump her furry cunt with more savage energy than before. Every time he drove his vein streaked pole into her, his pubic bush ground into the tight, jutting cheeks of her ass and her trim, gorgeous body shook all over.

Rollin placed his hands on her smooth shoulders and gripped her soft skin tightly. He just kept humping Cinnamon's snatch with his monstrous tool until he felt his come gathering beneath his balls. He grabbed onto Cinnamon's hanging left tit with his left hand and he placed his other hand against her right buttock. As the muscles within his groin clenched together he let out a long, whining sound and he gritted his teeth together.

At the same time Cinnamon felt Rollin shoot his wad of boiling jism into her enveloping, undulating womb, she felt Roshov's penis twitch wildly within her mouth and she felt his come course hotly through his tool. She opened her mouth and pulled her face back until her gaping mouth was positioned just in front of Roshov's flaring piss slit. She wrapped her long, sensual fingers around the base of his cock and kept his piss slit directed towards her mouth.

Roshov groaned as if he was in pain and he shot out a slug of semen which traveled through the air, passed into Cinnamon's gaping mouth, and splattered all over her tongue. He squirted several more drops of steaming scum into her face and then the rest of his load dribbled out from his piss slit and drained onto Cinnamon's lower lips.

Rollin watched all of this as he emptied the last traces of his own load into Cinnamon's womb. When he was done he lay his head upon her smooth skinned back and murmured with contentment and tried to catch his breath for more than a minute.

Roshov pulled his slime coated penis out from Cinnamon's face and immediately collapsed onto his ass and leaned back against the wall. He had achieved orgasm so many times this day that he was now utterly spent and exhausted. He didn't have a single drop of scum or energy remaining.

A little unsteadily, Rollin got to his feet and zipped himself back up.

"Now, whore," he spat, "Colonel Pavoric wishes to question you, himself. You will get dressed and come with me, immediately."

Crawling on her hands and knees, Cinnamon collected her skirt and torn blouse and, as the spent Roshov and his equally exhausted guards watched, began to dress.

*I* *M* *F*

Rollin escorted his prisoner outside to the parking lot where Willie was just finishing repairs to the engine he had disabled.

"Soldier!" snapped Rollin. "Is this truck ready to go?"

"Yes, sir," replied Willie, snapping to attention.

"Good, put this prisoner in the back."

Willie took hold of Cinnamon and put her into the back of the truck, where Barney was refastening the cover on the vent. Mitchell was laying on the floor.

"He passed out right after we got here," Barney said in answer to Cinnamon's unspoken question. "They beat him up pretty bad. It must have been hell for him dragging himself through those vent shafts. I gave him a shot to help keep him out. Best thing until we can get him to a doctor."

Cinnamon nodded. Barney finished reattaching the cover and moved Mitchell into the secret compartment in the floor of the truck before he and Cinnamon climbed in as well.

As Barney pulled closed the cover to the compartment, Willie started up the vehicle and they were off.

*I* *M* *F*

The sound of approaching sirens brought Krarn back to consciousness. He shook his head, trying to clear away the cobwebs, slowly taking in his surroundings. He was sitting in the driver's seat of a car he did not recognize, on a street that looked vaguely familiar.

The sirens, which had seemed very close, had stopped now and someone was pounding on the car window.

"Get out!" ordered a soldier, waving a machine gun at the car.

Krarn bristled. How dare he, he thought. He pushed open the car door and stumbled out, his feet still a little unsteady. The soldier grabbed him and slammed him back against the car.

"Do you know who I am?," raged Krarn at this rough treatment.

"We know who you are, Major," retorted a familiar voice.

Krarn looked around. His wits slowly coming back to him, he realized that he was surrounded by many soldiers, all of them with guns pointed toward him.

Colonel Pavoric pushed his way through the wall of menacing soldiers. "We know who you are and what you are." He walked up until he was standing a foot away from Krarn. "You traitor!" he spat.

"Traitor?" gasped a shocked Krarn. "No, Colonel -- I am no traitor --" Pavoric gestured and one of the soldiers began to roughly search Krarn. The soldier pulled a thick envelope out from the Major's coat and handed it to Pavoric. The Colonel looked inside the envelope and then pulled out a thick wad of American greenbacks.

"Then what are you doing here," accused Pavoric, pointing at the United States Embassy across the street, "with these?" He waved the money contemptuously under Krarn's nose. "And where is list of Western agents you took from me? And where is Mitchell?"

"I -- I -- do not -- know --" stammered Krarn.

"Then maybe we will take you back to headquarters and find out, eh?" He gestured to two of the soldiers. "Bring him!"

Just down the street, Jim Phelps stood beside a dark colored car, watching as Pavoric spun around and marched off, two soldiers dragging Krarn along behind him.

"Krarn will never explain his way out of that," commented Barney from inside the back of the car.

"Wasn't that the plan?" checked Cinnamon.

Rollin nodded his head in agreement.

Phelps glanced at his watch. "Let's go, Willie," he said, climbing into the car.

A moment later the dark car sped away down the street.

The End