Mackenzee Pierce, known by her code name "The Duchess," was their secret weapon. Her Royal Air Force uniform, a crisp blue serge that strained magnificently across a chest that had made wing commanders forget their own flight plans, was her armor. Tonight, however, it lay folded in a laundry hamper. Tonight, she was in disguise.
Von Hammer’s smirk faltered. He was a disciplined officer, but he was also a man. His eye flicked down. Mackenzee Pierce, known by her code name "The
Pop. The second button.
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. Tonight, she was in disguise