https://www.patreon.com/sandcastles/posts?tag=sarah%20steele
Sarah
Steele was a model American with a model's figure. She was a tall
blonde, nearly 6 feet and nearly 30 years old. Her big chest and
childbearing hips implied a housewife or a bathing beauty of her era,
but anyone who implied that to Sarah got a punch square in the nose.
She was a soldier's daughter, which left her with her mother's good
looks and her father's right hook. When some Nazi agents had tried to
take her hostage at a party in 1943, she taught them just how much
keister she could kick with just a cocktail dress and a pretty face.
The American army was quick to toss aside their "dames in the
military" policy to welcome above the talented and deadly blonde
who foiled the Axis' spies and agents over and over.
Sarah
was spending the day out among the troops. Not everyone knew of her
secretive contributions to the warfront, so today it wasn't by
shooting or punching out foreign foes. She was done up in a cocktail
dress, entertaining the boys with her beautiful looks and voice like
a walking motivational poster for patriotism and blonde knockouts.
When she finally left the stage, Colonel Parks was there waiting for
her with his thanks... and her next mission's briefing. It was
business time.
The
general walked her to her trailer, where Steele stepped behind a
changing curtain to get out of her show clothes. The colonel's eye
kept being drawn to her curvy silhouette as she wrapped a new bra
around herself. "So what are the nazis up to this time,
colonel?" she asked in her silky voice as she slid on her silky
undergarments.
The
gruff man scoffed. "And here I thought this was top secret."
"It's
always the nazis," she said dismissively. "At least when
you come to me it is."
"Well,
you're not wrong. The krauts got themselves a new kind of tank. It's
codenamed the Juggernaut Panzer, or 'Tiny,' because they want to be
cute about it. Biggest thing on treads we've ever seen, and big
enough to be nearly unstoppable. It's enough to hold up to a crew of
fifty and it’s too heavily armored for any known artillery to take
it down. The fuhrer's ready to deploy it on the Ruskies in mere
hours."
The
colonel tossed a folder with some blueprints and documents onto a
nearby table. One naked arm lifted up one of the sheets and held it
up while her outline’s other arm drew a cigar from a nearby end
table and popped it into her lovely lips. The tank would have been
dozens of feet high, practically a small mobile bunker rather than a
tank.
"You
say 'nearly.' So how do you stop it?" Sarah slid her eyepatch
neatly over the glass eye she wore to some formal events such as
this. It felt more natural with it on, reminding Steele of her blind
spots and keeping her aware of her surroundings and weaknesses.
"Best
we've figured? Drop every American bomb we've got on it, or get
someone inside to pull the brakes. Assuming they can get through and
take out all the guards and engineers along the way."
“Lot
of hands on deck,” Steele noted casually. “And a lot of hands
means a lot of guns.”
“Does
that change anything?”
"Not
really. One thing might, though: who's this?" Steele stepped
back out from behind her curtain smoking her cigar and wearing
stylish thick black pants, and a buttoned-up shirt that subtly
challenged the tensile strength of the buttons. She pointed out a
slightly chubby woman with a bob cut and thick coat ducking behind
the tank in one of the recon photos.
"Martha
Owens. American photographer with a tendency to go where she's not
welcome. It's gotten us some good intel."
"So
a spy?"
"Hardly.
She's a reporter. Snoops around to cover the war. Quite a fan of your
work, apparently."
Steele
chuckled and tucked the photo back into her briefing folder. "She
has good taste. Looks like my type. Maybe I'll find out if she tastes
has as good herself."
Colonel
Parks cleared his throat. Apart from her skill in close quarters
combat, there was always the other thing the officers mentioned about
Sarah Steele: she was as patriotic as an American flag waving in the
breeze, but also about as straight as one, given her record for
chasing skirts.
On
that note... "There is one more thing you should know. Madam
Tigerin is reported to be in command of the Juggernaut."
Steele
froze for a moment, but her expression remained the same. "Thank
you for saying so, Colonel. I'll keep that in mind." She
promptly (even a bit too firmly) shoved some papers back into her
briefing report and stood up. "I take it my plane's waiting for
me?" Parks nodded. "And Jimmy's the one flying?"
"He
was our first volunteer."
"Lovely."
Sarah pulled on a pilot's jacket and a pair of boots. "Then
let's go break the fuhrer's new toy before some of my fans get
impatient and come a'knocking.”
Jimmy
Forks was looney by most accounts, but knew his way around a plane,
engine and all. As far as Sarah was concerned, it made him the
perfect co-pilot for her trip. The Ruskies had cleared the airspace
for them, so the German planes had been shot down to give them an
easy way to reach the Juggernaut. Their two-man fighter plane
launched from the shores and was shortly over the massive tank; a
thick and clunky looking thing with multiple cannons and guns mounted
around it. Were it not on land, it almost looked like a tiny
battleship rather than a tank.
"You
think you got this one, Sarah?!" Jimmy called from behind her.
He was a scrawny guy for a military man, but every man was needed in
the war efforts. In Sarah's case, the women were especially needed.
The
buxom blonde freedom fighter laughed loudly, either especially or
amused or because she had to if she was to be heard over the
propellers. "Jimmy, you've seen me shoot down the ghost of the
Red Baron. You picked me up after I sank the battleship of the
treacherous Madam Long. You even saw me come out of Project Ragnarok
by the skin of my teeth. What's a big ol' tank going to do to me that
they can't?"
The
sound of machine gun fire rang out from below as Jimmy jumped. Sarah
kept her cool all the same. "Shoot at us?" Jimmy offered
uncertainly.
"That's
a very good point, Jimmy. You get this bird out of here." Sarah
stood up and made sure her parachute was in place; it was certainly
on, but she never liked how the default setting of the straps
squashed her tits. They were neatly tucked underneath her bosom this
way, pushing them up and out slightly. "I've got a date with an
old enemy."
The
one-eyed celebrity ran to the edge of the wing and leapt off, leaving
Forks to take over and dodge around the gunfire. She glanced back to
see his wild maneuvers shaking the gunners rather easily. Whoever
they had working the anti-aircraft guns were practically amateurs.
Content he was as safe as he could be over a heavily armed invincible
tank, she released the camouflage gray parachute as late as she could
to avoid their attention. She drifted down while drawing the heavy,
old-fashioned handgun from her hip, but directed her landing so that
right before she landed, she kicked one of the nazi guards across the
jaw and sent him tumbling off into the snow beside the tank. She
touched down on the dense metal, removing her chute and knocking on
one of the port holes with the butt of her gun. Another soldier
(female, she noted) poked her head out, just for Steele to shove the
backpack of her parachute into her hands. "Hold this,"
Steele chirped before she pulled the cord to deploy the backup chute.
At the speed they were going, it was enough to yank the surprised
guard from the hole screaming as the wind flung her off behind the
tank, crashing down a hundred yards or so back. Sarah granted herself
a little giggle before dropping down inside the tank.
Inside
the tank was a long metal hallway with pipes, valves, and various
moving parts along the walls. Sarah scoured it briefly before
determining the front of the vessel being the control room... which
meant sweeping around first would be the safest bet, in her
experience. Getting to the command center and blasting their leader
was a blow to morale, but it also gave the enemy a nice, one-exit
room for them to corner you in at full force. Better to keep that
element of surprise while she could.
As
far as Steele was concerned, things went pretty routinely for a
while. Darting through the halls, she caught a pair of wandering
guards off... well, offguard. She socked one in the jaw, which
bounced his head off a pipe and even with the helmet, he dropped to
the ground. The other went for his gun, but Sarah caught his reaching
arm and kneed him in the groin. He doubled over with a winded grunt,
letting Sarah bash the back of his head with the butt of her gun.
"Sorry, boys! No autographs," she quipped.
A
third soldier turned a corner, another blonde woman this time. It
would have struck her as odd, but Steele knew that Madam Tigerin
preferred a regiment of female guards. As the nazi raised her rifle,
Steele aimed quicker and shot the weapon from her hands. The woman
stared at her emptied hands for a moment before looking back at
Steele, who shrugged with a playful smile. The female guard clenched
her emptied hands into fists and charged at her, but Steele ran to
meet her midway down the hall. Steele let the guard strike first,
dodging around her punch and grabbing her by the wrist. Steele then
spun the guard around to slam her chest against the wall, and while
she was winded from that, the blonde American rammed her own breasts
into the guard’s back to knock even more air from her, dropping her
unconscious to the ground. The U.S. sure liked it when she brought
some in alive; sometimes they’d talk, but mostly it made them look
good in the press.
Most
the tank made for a quick cleanup. A chokeout here, a skull into the
walls there, a trick shot with her pistol way over there. It wasn’t
even the full fifty that the briefing had implied, and there were
less than a handful of casualties before she had most of the troops
variously secured. She didn’t hear the gunfire outside the tank
anymore, which she hoped was because they had stopped firing rather
than because the damned machine was so loud about everything. She was
only particularly surprised when she checked the engine room: a pair
of mechanics quickly surrendered at gunpoint, but they weren’t the
problem. As she cuffed them away from their controls, there came a
snarl from further in the array of pipes and levers. “Don’t go
back there,” the female mechanic warned, but Steele shushed her and
readied her gun as she stepped further back into the room.
A
few paces in and the a gurgling cry came from beside her. She whirled
around and readied her gun, but the zombie’s head collided with the
bars of its cage to fall short of her by several inches. Sarah
frowned and gestured her gun at the gnashing, shriveled up corpse on
legs. “Zombies. You nazis really are getting desperate, aren’t
you? I’d say I thought better of you, but...”
“We
only have the one. The scientists are working on-”
A
quick shot rang out as Steele blew its head off. “Correction. You
only have none. I’m sure the boys back home will be glad to have a
nice long slumber party with you all, but I’ve got a few more
of you sneaky goose steppers left to clean up.” She took a deep
breath, knowing well that those last few would be the most difficult
of all.
Sarah
Steele finally approached the command deck, according to the
blueprints and the German signs she could still read. She sighed and
braced herself again. The best of the guards and Madam Tigerin
herself would be in there. They would know if their guards hadn’t
reported in on time or if someone sounded an alarm, but otherwise
they might not have noticed her intrusion. It was a longshot, but it
should be her last stop on the Juggernaut before she could cripple
the thing. Time to drop the stealth mode and go in loud.
Sarah
booted the door open and immediately leveled her gun on the first
target that caught her eye. Her shot caught one of the elite female
guards in the arm and sent her to the floor, but the rest of the
Nazis swarmed her. They grabbed the wrist of her gun arm, but Steele
gave them every fist, foot and elbow she could. She lost track of
just how many were wrestling with her before they brought her down to
her knees.
One
of the feminazis kicked Steele in the stomach, getting a grunt out of
her before a woman's firm voice cut in.
"Well
well! Look what the Americans brought to us! Such a pretty little
package!" Sarah Steele's good eye glared up hatefully at the
figure standing at the head of the room.
The
command deck was wide, with a narrow plated window in the front to
permit the driver and attendees to see. An elaborate set of dials and
levers sat in front of said driver, who appeared to be a simple
German soldier. There was a copilot's seat, but rather than the
epitomous copilot, Martha Owens, the curvy reporter Steele had seen
in the photos was tied up there. The elites around the room were
indeed all women; Nazi uniforms and paraphernalia on them, but bright
red emblems of tigers marked them as an even dozen of the direct
underlings of Madam Tigerin.
The
Madam herself was a white woman with hair as red as fresh fire tied
into a fireball of a bun. She was in a German commander's coat,
bearing broad shoulders and a pair of medals on her big breast. Some
of those that survived her claimed that they had made her chest in a
nazi mad science lab just so that she could hold many more medals in
the future. She wore meticulously clean uniform, dotted with small
details to show her as more than a standard officer in the ranks that
only other officers and Sarah herself might notice. The uniform was
so so precise that the high skirt, tall black boots, and snug top
were exactly as long as they needed to cover everything distracting,
but nothing more.
"Guten
tag, Debra," Steele replied with a low, cold tone.
Madam
Tigerin scoffed jovially. "You insist so on calling me by zat
name. Zat little girl is no more, and only ze Madam Tigerin remains.
Why must you alvays hold such a grudge? I only laid hands on your
fiancee once."
"Long
enough to brainwash her into trying to take me out."
"Then
you still chase her geist, Sarah Steele," the woman grinned with
evil glee. "How is Penny anyway?"
"Fine,"
Steele replied like a teenager trying to avoid talking to her
parents. Tigerin had been being a sabotage program that Sarah had cut
off, but not before she had kidnapped, tortured, and brainwashed
Steele's childhood sweetheart and fiancee, Penny Lincoln, and turned
her into a sleeper agent. It took all of Steele's skill and training
to subdue Penny without killing her, and the boys at the lab that
were containing her weren't reporting much progress in deprogramming
her.
"Zat
bad, eh? None can escape ze spell of ze Madam, after all. It is my
genius that provides zis new era of revolutionary technology that
revives the glory of Germany.”
"Funny
how you'd use 'revolution' to describe your tyranny," Steele
shot back, rolling her eye. "Listen. You know you're found out.
Just put this thing in park, put on your blinker, and I'm sure you'll
find yourself in a maximum security prison rather than under a few
feet of topsoil. Maybe your list of war crimes will take them so long
to read that you'll be able to spend the rest of your life there
before they can try you."
Madam
Tigerin laughed heartily, slapping a hand on her thigh as her ladies
laughed along with her (the driver focuses responsibly on the road
they were steadily running over). "Such a silly American! Did
your woman take your common sense when she took your eye, or are you
simply zat blind? I have a dozen of my top girls here; my uberfrau!
Easily more than enough to bring you before the fuhrer himself, or
dispose of you however I please."
"Well...
you better check your math."
With
one sharp pull of her arms and twist of her body, Steele sent the two
guards holding her arms flying to the floor of the command center.
They landed clumsily on their backs, surprised by the sudden outburst
as Steele drove a fist into each of their chests. Their breasts
wobbled in their tight uniforms as they let out a quick, choking
cough, the wind and fight knocked out of them. “Ten,” Steele
updated quickly as she threw herself into the rest of the elites.
Steele
threw another punch at another guard, the German girl blocking it and
slugging Steele in the stomach in return. They weren’t the
pushovers she’d mowed through in the halls. Even if they didn't
measure up to Steele one-on-one, they were at least somewhere on the
ruler. Another guard grabbed Steele's arms from behind, struggling to
contain her so her partner could come in for another shot. Sarah
swung her head back to bang her skull off her captor's nose, stunning
the female guard before shoulder tossing her clumsy body into her
attacker.
"Nine,"
Steele counted off as the two crashed into each other, spinning
around to bring a boot bashing across another's face as she tried to
get the jump on her. "And eight! Suddenly your numbers aren't
quite adding up, Deb."
Madam
Tigerin growled angrily shoving one of her nearby elites. "Get
her! Shoot her now! Just make sure zat the fuhrer can recognize her
corpse!"
The
guard looked at her in surprise. "But, Madam, the armor. If the
shot ricochets..."
"That
was an order! Not a question!"
The
guard leveled her rifle, but a clear shot was nearly impossible with
another seven guards trying to subdue her and blocking her view.
One
of the bigger Nazis present lead a charge on Sarah, barreling towards
her with two girls more behind her. Even ganging up on her, Steele
was aware of her surroundings and not fighting against the momentum
of an ambush. She caught the arm of the big one as she tried to
bearhug Steele, throwing a quick fist into her face to knock her off
balance. She pulled her arm and tripped her to the ground before
lunging at the other two. They both threw punches at her, Steele
catching one my the fist in her palm and the other pelting her in the
chest. Sarah's chest bounced within her shirt, but she took it like a
Barbie doll made of concrete. She twisted the arm of the first girl
to bring her to her knees, just to grab the other by the neck and
slam her head into the nearest console of dials and knobs. With both
properly subdued for the moment, she grabbed each in a headlock and
squeezed until both of her powerful arms and big breasts had a head
squashed between them.
"There
goes seven and six," Steele warned. The guards gagged and
struggled, but couldn't escape Steele's iron grip. The big woman got
up to her knees and snarled, trying to charge Sarah again but she
briefly boosted herself up, suspended for a second on her two
struggling captives to land a perfect kick to the big guard's jaw and
topple her to the ground. "Make that five. Man, nobody can count
today," Steele laughed. "That's strange, huh?"
She
suddenly released her captives, the two Nazi guards dropping to the
floor limply as Sarah dodged the sudden shot from the waiting guard's
rifle. The noise rang through the room, the combatants disoriented
but still fighting on as the bullet pinged off the armor wall and
blew some sparks out of a piece of machinery. Steele shoulder-checked
one of the startled guards, tackling her into the wall behind her and
clocking her out with a hook to the jaw. Another of them caught
Sarah's shoulder and spun her around, slugging her in the mouth as
she turned.
"Bunch
of bratwurst bitches are gonna start to make my makeup run if you
keep hitting me like that," Steele snapped back before taking
her uniform by the collar and headbutting the guard out. "Hope
these three are your good ones, Tiger!"
Steele
ducked behind another console to avoid another shot for her head. It
was a close call, knocking a few strands of blonde loose behind her,
but this time the bullet bounced around and hit the riflewoman in the
leg. The guard went down with a yelp, wincing and holding her leg as
another guard loomed over Steele with a baton swinging over her head.
Steele ducked past her, and with one swift motion drew off her own
empty gun belt. The guard turned to swing the club again, but Steele
caught it with her tightly drawn belt and bounced it back. She
whirled the weaponized garment and locked it around the guard's neck
before pulling down hard, forcing her to fall back into the seat
behind her. Steele gave it a quick tug to tighten it around her neck
and the chair, able to dust off her hands and leave the woman to gag
and struggle as she was essentially leashed to the seat.
The
last guard standing rushed at her, Steele's own heavy pistol raised.
The gun clicked as the guard couldn't figure out the complex safety
that Steele had specially made for when others inevitably borrowed
her gun. "Always the drama queens, you Nazis," Steele
sighed, rolling her eye and stepping forward. The remaining guard
tried to pistol whip her, but Steele caught her by the wrist and
kicked her in the stomach. The guard grunted and doubled up from the
shot to the breadbasket, Steele plucking her gun from her hand before
driving her elbow down over her head. The guard slumped to the ground
Steele pulling the belt from the last guard's neck to let her fall in
a similar heap. Steele pulled her belt into a loop around her waist,
sloppy but in a roguish kind of way that Sarah Steele owned and ran
with. She leveled her gun at the final target in the room: Madam
Tigerin.
The
Nazi commander glared back at her, unintimidated as click came from
near her feet. Steele looked down to see the wounded guard with the
rifle aiming unsteadily at Sarah. "Put down your weapon,"
the guard panted.
"You're
still fighting," Steele noted with an impressed raise of her
eyebrow. "Not many can take a shot to the leg and stay
fighting."
"Drop
it or I shoot," the redheaded Nazi girl warned more firmly.
"I'll
dodge," Steele excused quite casually, as if being shot was not
something she wanted to discuss right now. "But you come a lot
closer than most." Steele rubbed a few strands of her hair in
her fingers, indicating the near hit from earlier. "You're a
good shot. Bet you're a good shot even with the bum leg. You need
that fixed?"
The
elite blinked at her quizzically. "Wilma!" Tigerin snapped
at her. "Shoot her!"
"We're
real keen on defectors in The States," Steele offered. "One
who worked with their top scientists, can take a few shots, and still
shoot like a pro? They'd be fighting over you too much to care what
you've done here."
"Wilma!!"
But the guard was clearly listening as Steele grinned at her, even
with a light bruise here and there on her pretty face.
"You
set it down, we patch you up, and we lead the psycho out here and I
tell them how cooperative you were back at command.
"Wilma,
I swear on the fuhrer's glory that if you do not-!"
The
elite complied and tossed her rifle out of reach, holding up her
hands. Good. Steele thought she was awfully cute, for a Nazi who
tried to shoot at her. Steele reached her free hand off to one side,
opening a hatch and sliding Wilma a first aid kit that she gratefully
got to using.
"That
sure looks like zero to me," Steele said, nodding at Wilma while
advancing on Madam Tigerin. "Time to stop the Juggernaut and put
an end to you."
Tigerin
looked briefly furious, but then her glare turned into a grin. She
held up her hands helplessly. "Very well. I surrender. I cannot
take the famous Sarah Steele in a head on fight, and you are
similarly famous for taking prisoners. I accept your offer to come
quietly."
"After
you make me work for it and everything," Steele scoffed. "Make
your man there stop this monster of yours."
Tigerin
gave a curt order and the pilot started to slow down the truck as he
messed with the complex controls. "Though I would have thought
you would want me to come back alive as it was," the Madam
mused, eying Steele coyly. "After all, who better would know how
to undo what happened to your fiancee?"
Steele
actually hesitated before she stepped down to the control area. She
kept the gun leveled on her nemesis while starting to untie Martha.
"You alright?" she muttered.
"I'm
fine," the reporter replied brightly. "They just grabbed me
and tied me up rather than slow their mission. If you hadn't... watch
out!"
Steele
reacted like lightning, expecting the double cross and catching Madam
Tigerin's incoming hand by the wrist. It fell short of hitting the
American heroine, but she opened her hand and blew a coppery red dust
into her face. Steele screamed sharply as it burned her eyes and
nose, staggering back and rubbing at her face. It was enough to bring
a normal woman to her knees, while Steele was just temporarily
blinded on her feet with the irritating burn keeping her eyes shut.
She
heard Madam Tigerin's booming laugh echo off the insides of the tank.
"I said I couldn't beat you in a head on fight," she
gloated as she strode up to Steele. The blonde put up her fists
bravely, getting her back to a wall, but Tigerin simply sidestepped
and nailed her in the ribs with a high kick. "So I von't come at
you head on."
Steele
cried out as her side ate the hit, swinging blindly back at where
she'd hoped that Tigerin would be. The German officer easily dodged
around the concerningly close swing, punching Steele across the
cheek. "And they say zat it is the Nazis who don't know when to
stop fighting," she sneered, landing another hit to Steele's
chin that made her bite her lip. A bit of blood ran from it, but
Steele struck out and caught Madam Tigerin by the uniform. She looked
shocked at the woman's speed and fighting instincts, the blonde
pulling the top of her uniform over the villainess' head. She
ironically found herself blinded by her own garment as Steele send
wild and vicious swings pelting into her head and chest.
The
screaming scientist finally yanked back hard enough to slip out of
her top, just her tight black bra left above her waist. She tried to
ignore Wilma and Martha's snickering behind her, the blushing driver
keeping the tank going at reduced speed to maintain the ploy from
earlier. "How did you...?!" Tigerin hissed before Steele
interrupted her.
"Throw
all your tricks in my eyes you want. You still stink to high heaven,"
the blonde bluffed.
Tigerin
snarled with fury and went over to the driver, shoving sharply at the
controls. Despite his protests, she leaned on it as The Juggernaut
made a sharp turn, sending the unexpecting Steele tumbling to the
steel floor and sliding in their direction. Tigerin cut her off by
stomping on the blonde's big chest, getting a sharp cry of pain from
Sarah as she drove her sharp heel down against her breasts.
"Your
struggles are the flopping of a fish on the dock," Tigerin
growled at her. Steele grabbed at her ankle to try to lift her off,
but Tigerin pulled it free and booted her across the face to put her
down again. "And your cries of pain are music to my ears. A
shame I couldn't record them in my lab... like your fiancee’s."
Steele
let out a wordless snarl and shifted to one side, throwing her heavy
boot straight up into Madam Tigerin's cunt. The feminazi let out a
husky grunt in reply, hands going between her legs with a look of
shock and revulsion from the pain that pulsed in her pussy. Steele
raised her boot again, this time kicking Tigerin in her chest. It
left a dirty bootprint across her pale breasts, but also threw her
back into the controls. The tank jerked back in the other direction,
the winded Tigerin sent tumbling along the floor with Steele sliding
right behind her. She didn't need to see where to go if they were all
sliding the same direction. The driver tried to straighten out the
vehicle again to save his boss, but Martha leaned over in her bound
position and kicked him in the hand whenever he got close to the
controls.
The
mad scientist hit the far wall with a wince, propped against it when
Steele slammed into her bodily. She straddled the Nazi mad scientist
and sent one fist after another into her face. The German cowered
behind her hands at first, but the power behind the blonde's blows
kept knocking their way past them. Seeing that she was trapped and
outmatched, even against the blinded agent, Tigerin managed to shove
Steele off of her and crawl away on all fours. Steele heard her
fumbling and caught her by the ankle, dragging her back over and her
big breasts making comical squeaking noises as she was dragged along
the floor.
"You're
not going anywhere," Steele said with a slightly mad grin that
made even the Nazi shudder. Sarah Steele was not only a dangerous
woman in her own right, but she was a direct victim of some of Madam
Tigerin's experiments. She was her own evils coming back to haunt
her.
With
a terrified scream, Tigerin slipped out of her boot and dove for the
other side of the room. Not bothering with the door, she popped open
a secret compartment and slid down the escape hatch. Anything to get
away from the furious Steele's wrath.
"She
is gone," Wilma reported for the blinded Steele's sake.
Steele
nodded with a small frown. "Yea. Sounds like her. The escape
hatch, right?"
"How
did...?"
"Really
good memory. And I saw the blueprints before coming." She
touched the nearest wall and felt her way back towards the others.
Martha had managed to wriggle out of her ropes by now, and handed a
loose canteen of water to Sarah to help wash out her eyes at last.
"Could you ladies radio in that I need a pick up for three..."
She rubbed the water from her eyes, looking right at the engineer at
the wheel. He hit a few switches, stopping the tank in its tracks and
holding up his hands. "Make it four. And a whole lot of knocked
out and confused Nazis who are gonna be real eager to answer some
questions."
"Should
we go after her?" Wilma offered, nodding towards the trap door.
"What,
Tiger? Nah," Steele smirked as she rubbed some blood from her
nose. Looks like it would be some more coverup makeup before her next
show. "The woman just drove into the middle of the Russian front
and then jumped out with no shirt and one boot. She won't get far,
and there's going to be a ton of troops to find her and hear her
accent. Assuming she doesn't freeze her tits off first." She
reached over to help Martha with the radio before going to finish
patching up Wilma's self-inflicted leg wound.
The
report came out great in the end. The ultimate result of the Nazi
tank was a handful of men crushed or blown up before they dropped a
huge stash of scrap metal off to the Russians. They were allies and
all, but the colonel made sure that Steele removed a few key parts to
cripple The Juggernaut where it was. Martha's report from behind
German lines proved valuable and got the army to act fast on the
intel. Wilma spilled her guts and after some fact checking and
healing, she was welcomed in as a very capable sniper for the Allies.
Madam Tigerin was, in fact, found and captured in a nearby Russian
village, half frost-bitten and having to swallow her pride and go to
them to avoid freezing to death.
Steele
got a bit of rest while she was shipped back home. She had a little
before her next show to heal and take a breather... and catch up with
some people. She visited the little mental hospital in Oregon on the
way home, given clearance to visit the underground facility: the
experimental one dedicated to finding cures and saving victims of the
Nazi super weapons. Steele was allowed into the secured room with the
glass in between it, dressed up for the occasion as she sighed and
braced herself.
A
woman was walked in carefully by an orderly and sat in a chair on the
other side of the glass. The copper-headed woman looked around
wearily, her body and hospital gown showing a kind of imperfect
sterility of someone who was cleaned by someone else.
"Hello,
Penny," Steele said evenly into the microphone.
"Hello,
Sarah," she replied. It got the blonde to smile softly, progress
from 'American' like she'd used just a month ago.
"What
do you remember, Penny?"
The
redhead shook her head a bit dizzily. "Not much..." She had
been brainwashed to attack President Roosevelt, and when Steele had
stopped her, Penny had stabbed out her fiance's eye. So there were
still some gaps...
"I
just remember that I think I owe you an apology."
Steele
smiled and slid her hand through the small hole in the bottom of the
glass. Penny gave a shaky grin, but slid a weary hand through to hold
it. "Close enough."
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