-bigtitsinuniform Mackenzee Pierce -inglourious French Maids P -

" Auf Wiedersehen , General," she whispered.

Mackenzee turned. Von Hammer was bigger than his file photo suggested, a bull of a man with a monocle and a scar. And he was looking not at her face, but at the bulge of the camera-shaped compact she was hastily trying to hide… down her front.

"Don't mind me, boys," she said, the English accent now deliberately crisp. "Just a maid doing her… spring cleaning."

He smirked. "Empty your… uniform."

She tugged at the starched white apron of a chateau maid, the black dress hugging every curve the war hadn't rationed. "This corset is a more effective interrogation device than a pair of pliers," she muttered, adjusting the lace collar that did nothing to conceal her primary assets. The mission was simple: infiltrate General Klaus von Hammer’s soirée, locate the D-Day invasion plans hidden in his study, and signal the incoming airstrike.

The shot was a soft phut . Von Hammer crumpled like a sack of flour, a surprised look on his face.

That was all the time she needed.

A floorboard creaked behind her.

Von Hammer’s smirk faltered. He was a disciplined officer, but he was also a man. His eye flicked down.

The game was up. But Mackenzee Pierce didn't panic. She had another weapon. Slowly, deliberately, she reached for the top button of her maid's dress. Then the next. "You want to see what I'm hiding, General?" she asked, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. " Auf Wiedersehen , General," she whispered

" Fräulein ," a voice like gravel and ice said. "You are lost."

Pop. The third.