Secret agents serving the English crown were not chosen on a whim: first and foremost, in order to serve Her Majesty one required a keen sense of loyalty, and discretion. Elegance too, of course – one must hold one’s head high, and maintain an elegant manner of speech with the quintessential English stiff upper lip. Many applied for the role, but very few ever became “agents on Her Majesty’s secret service.” Purdey was her spy name, and she had been a secret agent for the past four years. She had no fear of pointing a revolver at the enemy, of using chloroform or throwing poisoned darts, of forcing open drawers in search of classified documents or of setting hidden traps. She crawled like a panther into ventilation ducts, spun doors hidden in bookshelves, smashed windows, scaled walls, and could disguise herself as any character of any nationality. She was a shadow, an actress, an acrobat and a practised diplomat.
Purdey spoke fluent Russian, and on her latest mission to Moscow she had been tasked with recovering a diamond from a descendant of the Tsar. The mission had not been simple, but nothing scared a beautiful woman like Purdey. To get her hands on the diamond she would have to charm the husband of the Tsar’s descendant, Mr. Vodorski. She was prepared to do anything for the Queen of England, and her Russian accent was flawless. “Tell me, how is it that you came to master the language of Tolstoy?” asked Mr. Vodorski. Purdey was fearful of being found out, and casually replied: “I studied literature at the University of Saint Petersburg!” Mr. Vodorski was soon entranced by Purdey’s beauty, and she gladly accepted his invitation to come back to his apartment near the Kremlin for a glass of champagne. A few glasses later, Vodorski was snoring soundly. The mission was quickly accomplished; Purdey recovered the diamond from the Tsar’s descendent, which she replaced with an identical glass decoy. But when one is a secret agent on Her Majesty’s secret service, one cannot simply disappear overnight, as to do so would certainly arouse suspicions. So as Mr. Vodorski slept peacefully, in the dawn light Purdey took up a pen and began composing a love letter.
A taxi was waiting below Mr. Vodorski’s window. Purdey was not alone in her mission – a few miles away Steed fired up the helicopter, wearing his bowler hat and beige brogues. You always had to have an escape plan. Mr. Vodorski was a perceptive man. When he awoke he found the letter, and doubt engulfed him. You could never tell.
On her taxi on the way to the airport, Purdey saw that she was being followed. Her partner, Steed, kept an eye on her from the helicopter until she reached the airport. When she asked the taxi driver to slow down, the helicopter carefully approached. Steed held out his umbrella. Purdey grabbed onto it, and at last she was safe. The agents of the crown were so very British, and endlessly discreet.
Purdey was a heroine!
Alan Alfredo Geday