Destroyer 026 by In Enemy Hands

Author:In Enemy Hands
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIX

Ludmilla Tchernova noticed a blemish. Two inches below and slightly to the left of her

left breast bloomed ever so slight a kiss of red on the immaculate, smooth white body. The breasts

rose in youthful firmness, capped by mounds so perfectly round they looked as if they had

been designed by a draftsman's compass. The waist narrowed in gentle tautness to creamy hips

that billowed just enough to establish womanhood, and no more.

The neck was a graceful ivory pedestal for the crowning gem: the face of Ludmilla Tchernova.

She had the kind of exquisite face that made 92

other women want to go back to veils. When she entered a room, wives would kick husbands

in the shins just to remind them they were still on earth. Her smile could get a rabid

Communist to say mass on his knees. She made the average young Russian woman look like a

tractor trailer.

She had violet eyes set in the perfection of a pale symmetry composed of a graceful nose

and lips that looked as if they were almost artificial in their delicate pinkness. But that they

were real showed when she smiled. Ludmilla Tchernova had fourteen different smiles. Her

happiness and gentle acquiescence smiles were her best. Her worst was the smile of sudden joy.

She had been working on sudden joy for a month now, watching children when she gave

them ice cream cones.

"Hello, dear, this is for you," she would say. And she would watch the child's lips carefully.

Sudden joy tended to take two forms. One was a delayed action, which was very hard to get

just right, and the other was an explosion of the lips, very wide. She could do the

explosion, but, as she had told her uncle, who was a general on the Committee for State

Security (KGB), it lacked force, and sometimes, if one looked closely, it could be

misinterpreted as cruelty. She certainly did not want to look cruel when she intended to

express sudden joy.

She had a major of the KGB, female, assigned to her. Lately this major had been picking up ice cream cones,

cleaning the dirt off them, and handing them back to children. For as soon as Ludmilla had seen the smile she

wanted, she tended to discard the cone.

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"I'm not here to feed the masses," she had answered when the female major suggested that,

with a little more effort, she might continue handing the ice cream cone forward until the child

had a firm grasp on it. "I serve the party in a different way. If I wanted to feed children, I would

have become a nurse. And it would be a waste of a great natural resource which I have chosen to

give to the party and to the people."

"A little kindness cannot hurt," said the major, not especially known for a soft heart but who,

in Ludmilla's presence, tended to think of herself as St. Francis of Assisi.

She was a relatively attractive Volga German with blond hair and blue eyes, clean

features and an attractive body. Next to Ludmilla, she looked like a light heavyweight boxer

at the end of his career. Ludmilla Tcheirnova could make a rainbow look plain.

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