This story contains sexual themes and is meant for mature, consenting audiences only. Please respect my artistic freedom as much as I value your freedom of ideology. I put hours and hours into my work and am as serious about it as any artist. This story is properly tagged as mature. 

As various grainy telephoto pictures are projected onto a large screen in a dark room, Special Agent Simon Peters briefs two other members of the Domestic Counter-Terrorism Task Force, Supervisory Special Agent James Southworthy and Executive Director of Operations Ellison Timor.

"Harcourt Thomas Stryker. Former US military special-ops. Master survivalist. Political extremist and doomsday prepper. Motivations: various. Known terrorist ties in Pakistan, Egypt, Yemen, Israel, several other countries. Associated with Hatriot ideals. Previously only on the watch list, his status has been upgraded to known threat. Recently acquired at least one WMD, nuclear. Origin unknown, presumed former Soviet."

Simon paused while showing a few additional pictures, none of them clear and detailed. Stryker appeared to be about 6 feet tall with black hair. A square-faced man in his mid 40s. His precise facial features were impossible to determine from the grainy photos.

"Last known whereabouts: the deep woods of Virginia, hiding with scattered cells of loosely organized radicals with a similar history. It seems the owners of the stolen weaponry want it back. He hasn't had time to organize and needs help with the operation of the devices. It's not a simple big red button. Unknown if he has detonation codes."

"Thank you Simon. Lights please James," directed Timor. "Options."

"A large portion of our existing field operatives list has been compromised. Fucking hackers," Simon spat.

Southworthy didn't pause more than an eye-blink. "Even if that were not the case, no one is getting close to a suspicious man hiding in the woods surrounded by close associates--unless it's for a firefight.  We can't risk any kind of random confrontation if we want to recover any rogue nukes."

"He hasn't had time to plan anything or even find a buyer," responded Timor. "He knows those woods like the back of his hand. He'll lay low there while making arrangements."

Simon asserted, "An infiltration operation is our best bet."

"Suicide," scoffed Southworthy.

"There aren't any other options. Once he deals with his acquisition problems, further arrangements won't take long. What do you want to see destroyed? Washington? New York? Los Angeles? He's only a car drive from the Capital building for Christ sakes!" retorted Simon heatedly.  He regained composure and waited. "That's all assuming he only has one."

Southworthy, "I am forced to agree--however reluctantly. A large military operation is out of the question. We don't have the intel for a smaller surgical strike. We must draw him out to us instead."

"Something like that young Russian woman in West Berlin back in the '80s," Timor interjected.

Southworthy: "Hmm, that might just work."

Timor: "It could very well work with the right operative. Good looking, but not enough to seem suspicious. Willing to put out, but not eager enough to be easily distracted. Of course this is all off the record, as well as against policy and several laws. Times have changed since the Cold War. We have to watch accountability now."

Simon: "I'm not sure I like where this is heading, if I follow. There has to be another way...damn if I see it."

After a long pause considering, Timor made his choice. "Gentlemen, we don't have time to spend developing alternatives."

"It's agreed then, but who?" asked Simon.

"How about Agent Duffy from the pistol range?" suggested Southworthy. "She's reliable, a good record, hasn't been in the field for a while, but that's precisely why she would not be suspected.  She wouldn't have been on the hijacked list."

Simon jumped on the answer immediately. "She looks like a freakin' tow truck driver! They'll never buy it. We need someone much more fitting for the part."

The men all consider carefully, trading names as they go over every pretty face and shapely ass in the place.

"We don't have a lot of time. I say we round up all the women who are a close match for testing," offered Southworthy.

Timor considered for a moment. "Make it happen, Simon, but make the pitch to each one individually, in person, off the record. Drop anyone from the list you feel is a risk."