" The Lucky Lieutenant" by Cardenio1611

[esercito sconfitto]

The Lucky Lieutenant, Part One
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The Lucky Lieutenant

by Cardenio1611

"But I've got to get on that plane," Angie Darnell pleaded with the stocky, weary, almost angry corporal behind the counter. "Here, here," she said, pushing the letter she had already shown him forward. "My letter to travel from General Crawford."

Corporal D'Angelo has seen a number of such letters signed by the general for travel for ladies in tight, multicolored dresses and wide-brimmed hats and wearing lots of makeup. "Look, Miss. As I've told you a dozen times, the plane is full. It's leaving in two hours. If you want to wait and see if we have a cancellation or a no-show, be my guest. But don't hold you're breath." D'Angelo almost said, "There's a war on, you know," but with several wounded soldiers and marines sleeping in chairs around them, it hardly seemed necessary. He turned and walked into office behind him, lowering the lights as he went.

Angie slowly returned to sit down. If she didn't get out of Seoul today, the Pleuton family would be sure to find her. She had maybe six hours on them. And this was the last plane for 36 hours. They wouldn't listen that she hadn't meant to cut Pierre. Family honor had deaf ears.

She looked around at the sleeping groups around her. Right across from her was a lady lieutenant, same height and build as Angie, also a blonde, sleeping, out like a light, her mouth wide open. Poor kid, Angie thought, some of these people have gone from bus to car to keep to bus again from far into Korea and probably hadn't slept for three days.

Angie suddenly had an idea. She walked over and sat in the empty seat next to the lieutenant. "Honey," she said. The woman didn't move. Angie shook her. The woman sighed and then went back into deep sleep again. Angie unbuttoned the lieutenant's uniform jacket and pulled her orders from the inside jacket pocket.

"Lt. Jane Swenson, rpt. Ft. Dix, N.J., August 17, 1952..."

No photo with the order. IDs had been done earlier. The policy to let civilians like Angie mingle with military had not anticipated what Angie was planning to do.

Angie got up and found the lavatory. It was dirty and too small to move about much, but she found something she could use. A bottle of cleaning sovent and a rag. Angie sniffed it. As the sayiing went, it could knock you out. She looked around som more, hidden in the darkness, and found an empty office.

Angie went over and started to haul Jane up. She dragged Jane's duffel bag along too, which was incredibly heavy. The lieutenant started to wake up, "What? What?"

"It;s all right, honey, you've got a stain on your dress. I spilled my coffee. I'm taking you to the lavatory."

Angie pushed open the door with her foot, plopped Jane in the desk chair, and quietly closed the door. She dragged the duffel in the corner. She opened the bottle and pour some of the liquid on the rag. In the fitful light from outside, she saw Jane well enough to jump on her lap and cover her face with the rag before Jane could scream. The soldier struggled, pushing with all her might, but Angie had her pinned, and within seconds Jane's head dropped forward.

Angie pulled the rag away. "Hope I didn't kill you, honey." She leaned forward and listed to Jane's heart. It was beating steadily. "Nah. You're alive, although I might have fried your brain. Sorry, hon, but I gotta make that plane."

Angie unzipped her dress and let it fall, removed her high heels, unfastened her bra and let it drop down and pulled off her panties. She leaned forward and pulled Jane up, laying her on the desk.



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The Lucky Lieutenant, Part Two

by Cardenio1611


With Jane lying on the desk, Angie loosened Jane tie, unbuttoned her blouse and unzipped her skirt. Pulling the soldier forward, she yanked off both the uniform jacket and blouse and then pulled down the skirt, flicking off Jane's black pumps in the process.

Even in the fitfull light, she could see that Jane was a looker. She reached around and unfastened the bra and pulled it off to reveal round, milky-white breasts. "Swenson," Angie whispered. "Norwegian, I guess. Not much sun." She pulled down Jane's boxer-like panties, military issue, unfastened her garter belt, and finaly and gently removed the stockings, which were hard to come by in Korea.

"You're built good, hon. Since you're going to stay in Korea, you could make good money stripping. If the family doesn't get you."

Quickly, Angie dressed in Jane's uniform, feeling the warm of Jane's flesh still clinging to the underwear, enjoying the softness of the nylons against her skin.

She pulled her own very brief panties over Jane's legs, placed the bra around her and crammed her into Angie's dress. Once she got it on her, though, the zipper pulled up easily.

Final touch, hard to do in the dark. She wiped off her own makeup with tissue, found her lipstick and eyebrow pencil in her purse, and made up Jane, deliberately putting on more than necessary to help disguise her features.

Checking outside to see all was quiet, Angie carried Jane back into the waiting area and placed her in a seat. She went back into the office, got Jane's duffel bag, closed the door, and sat across from the sleeping Jane.

Within 10 minutes, the airport began to come alive. Lights went on. Soldiers woke up and started to get ready for the plane. The only one who was still sleeping was the lady in the colored dress and big hat.

Angie put on a show of getting ready too, as if she had been sleeping in her uniform. But suddenly someone tapped her on her shoulder. "Lieutenant Swenson?" Angie turned around a saw a captain, ten MPs, and Corporal D' Angelo."

"Yes, sir."

"Is that your bag?" the captain said, pointing at Jane's duffel. When Angie hesitated, the Captain interrupted. "Isn't that your name on it?" He pointed to the stenciled "S-W-E-N-S-O-N."

"Open it," he ordered one of the MPs. The young man pulled out a canvas bag and brought it to the captain, who opened it to reveal a bronze, jeweled statue.

"Lieutenant Swenson, you are under arrest for smuggling art treasures out of this country. Take her." Before Angie could move the MPs had her in her grip.

"Wait!" she shouted, while trying to figure out what to say. "I'm not who you think!" They were literally dragging her away, so she struggled and fought, so hard that one of the MPs whacked her on the back of the head with his nightstick. Dazed, Angie had no choice but to let them carry her away.

Jane Swenson felt someone shaking her. When she finally opened her eyes, she saw Corporal D'Angelo. "Darnell? Darnell? You still want to get on that plane? 'Cause we just had a cancellation."

He helped her up and brought her to the counter, figuring she was just sleepy. Jane looked down and saw she was wearing a dress. "What the hell--"

"I woulda bet you weren't going to get on, general's letter or no letter," D'Angelo prattled on. "But a lieutenant who had a reservation just got arrested, right over there, for smuggling rare artifacts. They rounded up boyfriend too and five other guys. Lucky for you."

Jane just nodded and took the ticket he handed her.

As the plane took off, Jane thought how she was sorry for Tony and this Angie Darnell, whoever she was, who had evidently stolen her uniform. She'd get off when they landed in New York and change her identity, since this Angie must have been in some trouble to do what she did. It was also too bad about the last shipment being confiscated. But then she knew where Tony had shipped the others.

Back in Seoul, Angie woke up in an infirmary, her head throbbing. A nurse and a female MP were standing in front of her. Angie looked them up and down. The nurse was a blonde like Angie, but the MP's uniform might be a better fit.

(8/17/2009, 2:19 pm )