Dick Malloy, Agent 077, is an agent with the CIA.
We first meet him when he is engaged in "wrestling training' with a lovely negligee-clad young woman in his apartment. He receives a phone call ordering him back to HQ for his next mission and being the dedicated operative that he is, he throws on his clothes, kisses her goodbye passionately heads to work. After being given the details of his latest assignment from his Director, Malloy has the decency to comment about his having to "interrupt something" to which his understanding boss assures him that his secretary, Miss Perry, "will send her roses, and excuses, just as usual".
Malloy is a man in excellent physical shape, tall (likely around 6'2") and very slender with dark blond hair worn stylishly over the ears but still trimmed. He is clean-shaven which makes his ready smile so much more apparent and seductive. When outdoors, Malloy is prone to dress in a very stylish knee-length white trenchcoat buckled snuggly around his waist, his head topped with a fedora. Except at night when heading out for a rendezvous at a public watering hole where you will find him dressed in a tux with an expensive caped overcoat [mind you, when he flew into the city for this meeting, he carried a rather small suitcase raising an interesting question].
To show this operative is as particular about his alcoholic intake, at a nightclub he asked for "two whiskeys, each one double, in one glass". Much as he does enjoy his libations, which does include champagne with his lady friends, his primary interest outside of work are those aforementioned beauties - they are always quite gorgeous and definitely sensuous - and he is not content to have just one per mission, the more the merrier. Once when a female associate with whom Malloy obviously had had close contact before chides him that he usually has only one thing on his mind, he smiles and agrees that "it's the basis of my life". Caution should be taken on their parts, though, as a good percentage of them end up not living though not necessarily by his roving hands.
What self-respecting 60s operative would be without his share of nifty gadgets; Malloy definitely has his although none seem especially noteworthy. He has what looked to me like a revolver which was said to have one more round in the magazine than that normal 7 (so maybe no a six-shooter. Most interesting of the gadgets in play during these adventures, though, was used by a particularly deadly femme fatale for the other side when she pretends to be a stranded motorist needing assistance on a rainy night and when an unsuspecting military officer offers to look at the engine for her, she reveals that the flashlight she had been holding also has a retractable knife in it, demonstrating that good deeds often get punished. This woman will find later on that showing the least amount of interest in Malloy will bring out the murderous nature of her comrades.