A man walked on a trail in a forest. He came up to a creek. He looked at a map and nodded. Then he sat on a large boulder and waited.

A woman walked by, a few minutes later. Seeing him, she walked up.

"What time is it?" she asked, her voice only a little over a whisper.

"2:35," he answered—not even consulting his watch.

"I thought it was a bit later. Thank you."

Ne nodded. "Nadia."

She nodded. "George."

He also nodded. He started to say something, but she put two of her fingers up to her mouth.

"Don't say anything. Write the information down. Here." She gave him a pen.

"Do you have paper? I didn't bring any."

"That won't be necessary."

She sat on the boulder to his right. Then she took her right shoe and sock off and crossed the foot.

Understanding what she wanted him to do, he smiled. "A singular place for information."

"But a very secure one. Oh, this is a special ink. It will be not show up until I treat it with a chemical."

"Ingenious!"

"Shh!"

He began writing on the sole of her foot. "I trust I'm not tickling you!"

"No, you're not."

He continued. After a few seconds, he said. "I'm done."

"Good. Now, go!"

He started to leave. But before he did so, he smiled and said, "You have a lovely foot!"

She smiled. "I have a second one just like it!"

He walked away. She put her shoe and sock back on and also left. She went the opposite direction from him.


A couple days later, he was captured. He was brought to an old office building in town and left in an office. After a few minutes, his captors led him into an inner office. Behind the desk stood a woman.

She smiled. "Hello, George."

He sighed. "Nadia!"

She said something to the guards in an Eastern European language, and they left, locking the door behind them.

"So, you're a double agent," he said.

"So, it seems."

"And I gave you information I shouldn't have."

"So, it seems."

"And I suppose you'll kill me, now—so, it seems!"

She smiled. And then, she did something a little odd: She propped her feet on the desk. They were bare, and the message he wrote was on the right foot.

"I see you haven't wiped off my information, yet."

"I need a special chemical to do that."

"Which you haven't used, yet. Careless!"

"Like I said, this is a very secure place to store information. Rub my feet!"

He stared at her.

"I know you want to."

He continued to stare.

"Maybe this will convince you." She pulled out a gun.

A 2nd chair was at the desk. He pulled it by her feet and sat down. Then he began massaging them.

"Do you still feel that I have lovely feet?"

"Yes, you do."

"Lick them."

This shocked him even more. She merely smiled and waved her gun. Then she brought her feet closer to him, and he began licking them. She smiled with pleasure.

"I'm pretty sure this isn't the first time you've licked a lady's feet, is it?"

"No," he conceded.

And then he noticed something: Her right foot no longer had the writing on it!

Seeing that he discovered this, she smiled. "It is human saliva that removes the ink! Thank you, George. Oh, please continue to massage my feet."

He did this.

This continued for a few more minutes. Finally, she took her legs off the table and got up.

"Come with me," she said.

She led him out of the inner office. The guards were still in the outer office. They looked at her in shock—she was still barefooted. She said something to them in the East European language, the that satisfied them.

She led him to the hallway. They went to the elevators and she had him push the down button. It came, and they went to the lobby. She led him to the front door.

"Go."

"You won't shoot me in the back, will you?"

"Not this time."

Suddenly, he kissed her on the lips. She accepted this kiss.

"I'm sure we will meet again," he said.

"And the next time might not be so friendly!"

He left the building. She watched him leave, then she went back up to her office.