Masters arrives in enemy territory...

Chapter Two: Tsuruga, Fukui Pref., Japan... Red Fist of Justice Complex ("The House")...

It seemed that upon the breakup of the Aum Shinri Kyo in the late nineties, certain elements of that sect had gone into hiding in the mountainous North coast of Western Japan. There they hooked up with an active Japanese Red Army cell who were already harbouring sect refugees after the Shinjuku subway Sarin gas incident earlier that decade.

After the collapse of the Far East economic sphere in 2008, following the multiple nuclear accidents on mainland Japan through that period, the whole region around Fukui prefecture that centred around the enclave had become destabilised and lawless. The decommissioned generating facility at Tsuruga soon became the national headquarters for the faction, who had, by then, realigned themselves and been reborn as the Red Fist of Justice. At their head was the charismatic ex-JRA cell leader called Akaguchi, who had been in hiding in North Korea but had safely bought passage back to Honshu after the collapse had brought chaos to the region.

I thought about this and about a great many other things as I approached Tsuruga station in the silver and red local train that had been waiting for me at a sinister, deserted waystation somewhere up the line from Kyoto station. JR rail services to the Fukui region had been suspended since the Red Fist had made the area an independent enclave. Now a thriving local economy had sprung up, running everything from black medical practices to brothels, data laundering to pirate line local railways.

As the train meandered through picturesque Japanese countryside, I'd used the opportunity to scan the other three passengers in my carriage. A young couple, initially staring at the tall gaijin lady diagonally opposite them, had quickly returned to a subdued canoodling. Soon, the girl fell asleep, her long bleach-blonde hair spilling over her face and into her open mouth. The boy retrieved a breezeblock-sized manga rag out of his rucksack and began to flip listlessly through it, sucking at a tin of vending machine Oolong Tea; they must have been in their early twenties.

The other passenger looked more like an operative. A shabby Japanese man in his forties, he looked too much the nondescript sarariman to truly be so. He studiously avoided catching my attention, instead using the window glass to keep a furtive eye on me. Either he'd been sent by the Fist to monitor me or he fancied me. Probably both. I remembered that he had been with me ever since Kyoto. I'd seen him first smoking a Mild Seven on the Maglev platform as I left the express from Kansai Airport with my baggage. Later, he'd vanished, but reappeared with the passengers switching to the Fukui train as we alighted from the JR local service at the suburban waystation.

Now here we were on the outskirts of Tsuruga, a pretty coastal town a few kilometres up the coast from desolate Fukui City, where I'd been before as Pierce - a different kind of warrior. Dusk was falling as the train slid through still sidings dotted with bits of rolling stock. The orange streetlights and gaudy neon of the town looked welcomingly surreal to my tired, blank gaze. In the distance, the glint of the moon on the sea - sandy beaches, I recalled - and in the lee of the bay, atop a forested hillside, the giant shadow of the disused nuclear facility.

We pulled silently into the station. My companions were already on the move as the train squeaked to a halt. The two youngsters stretching and yawning, hoisting large backpacks off the overhead racks, the young, handsome boy with his spiky hair helping his pretty girlfriend but simultaneously casting a cheeky grin in my direction. I returned it. The shabby man had already debarked and was showing his papers to the guard, pulling another cigarette from his grey suit in the blue dusk.

I stood and stretched, taking my luggage and stepping out from the air conditioned train into the humid evening. I was wearing just a linen shirt and shorts, but the prickly heat I remembered so well immediately began to draw sweat from all over my aching body. I looked up and saw the station guard approaching. Beyond him was the shabby man, fiddling with a vending machine in the brightly illuminated ticket office. The young couple were already gone.

"Excuse me, your transit papers please," the guard said in Kansai-tinged Japanese.

Without replying, I retrieved the papers of authority marked with the logo of the Red Fist, chrome sunburst abstract, and presented them to him along with my passport and ticket. They'd already been examined twice either side of the border with the rest of Japan, but I was just too tired to try and explain.

While he examined them, I lit a Silk Cut and looked surreptitiously over his shoulder. I could no longer see the shabby man. Maybe I'd been mistaken. I knew that there was a maildrop in Tsuruga Town which I could use to make contact with a local operative. Perhaps this had been him - monitoring my arrival into his territory.

"Thank you," said the guard, handing back my papers. As he turned to leave, I said, "Can I get a taxi outside the station?"

"There is a driver waiting for you Miss Jane," he replied, "shall I help with your bags?"

I reached down for my two cases. "Thank you, no."

The operative had arrived in enemy territory.

***

I didn't need any distractions on this mission. Nevertheless, I found myself thinking a lot about sex recently.

My sex.

The thing was, I felt completely void of any "normal" urges. The driver who had come for me was a beautiful American brunette called Lori, typical of the kind of talent that the Red Fist employed in its heartland to service its upper echelons. I felt no attraction for her at all - though I did think she was very attractive - and that was what was worrying me, especially as she was wearing a black shiny catsuit, which one might have described charitably as completely indecent.

Come to that, the blonde girl whose pretty reflection greeted me in the mirror every morning would certainly have stirred Pierce's attention when I had been him. In fact, Jane Masters was just the kind of girl that Pierce might have ended up bedding...

On the other hand, I couldn't stop thinking about Commander Bond. In fact, the events of my last evening in Britain had filled my thoughts on all the planes, trains and cars on the journey over; I'm ashamed to say that it got me quite... excited...

The weeks of acclimatisation in London had passed uneventfully. Essentially, I had to give the impression that I was Jane Masters. As my legend went, I had just returned from a short break and was temping as an Account Executive at a marketing agency on Buckingham Palace Road (Universal Digital, a legitimate company who were nonetheless one of the Department's many front organisations, of course). I dutifully went into work every morning and left at six-ish. I went out for drinks and meals with an artificial circle of friends. In public, I occasionally tried to spot the Fist operatives who were surely surveilling me but of course that was futile. I flirted with male colleagues and went to the women's room with my girlfriends. I went home, ate M&S dinners and watched telly or practiced my feminine Japanese, different as it was to the male form of the language I'd learned at Uni. But mainly, I was bored out of my skull.

I was due to depart on a Saturday afternoon, so that Friday was my last day at Universal. I was going through some oddments of paperwork when an email appeared on my terminal from Diane, my "boss":

Jane, the presentation to Vauxhall's been brought forward. I need you to finish the account plans this evening so I can fly out with them in the morning. I'll come and have a chat at eight to see how you're doing.

Sorry, D

This was a coded message. It meant that someone from Vauxhall (MI6 HQ, just up the road) was coming over at eight to brief me on changes to my mission parameters. The sub basement of this building was linked by tunnel to Vauxhall meaning that operatives could come and go freely. I was to pretend to be working late until the briefing happened.

I went over to the teapoint and refilled my bottle of water. Ashia, one of my "friends", a pretty young black woman with whom I had become genuinely friendly, was there. She turned and smiled. "Not long now eh? When are you off?"

"I'm flying tomorrow afternoon. Can't wait!" I replied enthusiastically and automatically.

"Aw, I'm so jealous. Always wanted to see Japan. Sounds so cool. Listen girl, you still up for drinks tonight? We've gotta see you off properly, after all."

I frowned, "no I can't. Just got a mail from Di. She's got to jet off to the GM Vauxhall planning meeting a day early so I have to finish the account plans tonight. Typical, huh?"

Ashia rolled her eyes. "Well you make sure you come along later. Usual place. OK?"

"Promise," I smiled. "Though I have a feeling it might be a long night."

***

Around six, people started filtering out of the office. I got well wishes, cards, little girly gifts and kisses. By seven, the only two people left were Diane and myself. At seven thirty-five Di also left, wishing me luck. She paused at the doorway and gave me a strange look that I couldn't read. Of the twenty or so people in the building, only she and a couple of others knew of the arrangement their company had with the Secret Service. Perhaps she was curious about me and my history. She knew nothing about my mission parameters nor the fact that this attractive, modern-looking young blonde woman in a dark suit and pink top was, in fact, a man.

The building was empty. I sat and waited. I was a little breathless with anticipation and couldn't concentrate. There was no reason that it would be Bond who'd come and brief me, but he was my operator so there was perhaps hope. Hope for what? I shook my head, confused. There was little doubt that, sexually, I was now as attracted to men as to women. Mary Dwyer had told me that this might happen. I felt guilty, somehow weak, and felt I had to try and control it for the good of the mission.

But what was the problem? I was, in appearance at least (and possibly more) a young woman now. It was clear enough to me that these changes were less temporary the longer they lasted. I might be able to abandon the hormones and return to something approaching my original physical shape. I'd never have the same body again though - no body hair, faint masses in my chest, and those new kinks in my brain... I enjoyed dressing as a woman now. Smelling nice and having men admire and desire me. I did want to become Anthony Pierce again, but could I? Would my brain switch back? Would I be happy?

At five to eight, I got up to go and have a pee and touch up my face. In the harsh light of the toilet mirror, I appraised myself as I blotted my lips. Not bad. A little tired round the eyes, perhaps, but definitely very well put together. "Tidy", as my brother Tim would say. Ooh. That thought gave me a little weird jolt. I tucked a stray lock of blonde hair behind my ear, smoothed out my knee length pencil skirt and left, turning off the light.

He was sitting in the semi-gloom at my desk when I came out. He had switched the other lights of the office off, leaving only my desk lamp illuminated. As soon as I saw him in his perfect suit, my heart started pounding and a nervous heat rose through me, just like I remembered from Bicester, on that road, in that car. He smiled faintly and indicated that I should be at ease.

Bond rose and perched on the edge of my desk, beckoning me to sit down. He loomed over me as he spoke.

"We've got some fresh information, Masters."

He seemed huge as I looked up at him. Controlled power in a made to measure suit. It made me feel small and vulnerable. But I wanted to feel that way; to be enfolded in his big arms and made his. He was obviously looking down the cleavage of my lacy pink top as he spoke. I wriggled and smiled, giving him a better view. I felt trivial, a feminine concoction in frothy perfumed wrapper. I wanted it. I was lost. Consumed so quickly.

"According to our sources, it appears that Sato is in command of the complex where you will be working." He leaned down and kissed me on the nape of my neck. I flushed, and rose, standing to encircle his neck with my arms. "This gives us an opportunity," he stood himself, caressing my bottom with his large, warm hands.

I moaned, closing my eyes as he went on, "Our strategists project that within three years, Sato will become a larger threat than Akaguchi." I hitched up my skirt to free my legs and he lifted me up bodily. The crotch of my panties was soaked and sticky with precum from my stirring, semi-hard cock. I spread my legs and wrapped them around his waist. He turned, lowering me and roughly using my body to clear papers and objects off my desk, before placing me down on my back. My desk light clattered to the floor, casting crazy shadows from our entwined bodies on the ceiling. He leaned over me, smiling. "Masters, you are quite unbelievable".

I looked up at his cruel, handsome face. His grey eyes. The grey crew cut. The scar under his thin mouth. The cleft of his chin, stubble coming through. I smiled back up at him, passing my tongue slowly over my upper teeth.

"Shut up, sir, and kiss me." I said.

***

Later, I lay close to naked on the sofa by the office kitchen as he made us coffee. I looked at the clock above the kitchen door, which read 20:46.

Jesus.. I remember a jumble of recollections. Thinking, shit, a man's kissing me. With tongues. Mmm. Looking down at the bulge in his trousers as he unbuttoned my top, just wanting to hold it, unbelievably much. His rough thumbs tweaking my nipples. Electric, joy. Almost coming from that. Ohh. More, then his cock, and me naked except for my stockings, writhing on the table. So soft, the foreskin, like velvet. I tickle it, fingertips, then tongue.

Finally my small, very small, little hand was grasping the base and my mouth, very talented, was going up and down, up and down. Keeping the Commander under command. So full can't breathe. Then he comes. I swallow; nice. I expect I look quite depraved, lying back on the desk, my desk with my work scattered all round, naked except for laddered stockings and suspender belt. Smiling, so lovely with a string of his cum on my lips and chin and white neck. And a little cock, just there to confuse and beguile, there in the pale triangle between black lace garters... you like that, sir?

He sat by me, gave me the coffee and finished briefing me. Akaguchi had vanished and Sato was left, the heir apparent, ruling The Fist as regent from the Tsuruga house. Our sources suspected some sort of incipient coup, though Akaguchi's kids were still safe there in the house. My instructions had changed because of these developments. I still had to go for the data as planned, but there was more - find Akaguchi, or find out what had happened to him. Liquidate Sato.

I still had my license to kill, of course.

Bond left me after that. I got myself dressed, set the alarm system and left the office for good. Down Victoria Street, I looked in at the windows of the wine bar at Ashia and the others. Laughing and drinking. But somehow I didn't feel like joining in. So I went home to Jane Masters' flat, packed my cases and went to bed.

Hours later I was in the air, on my mission at last.

***

The black Mercedes had been cruising along the coast road, past kilometres of white sand beach. We were beginning to go uphill, and soon we were gliding through a set of steep switchbacks that took us deep into the forested hillside, forbidding in the bluish gloom.

"Almost there now," said Lori in her sweet voice, "I think you're gonna really love the house. It's so beautiful. And the chairman's boys are so cute. They can't wait till you finally arrive! Y'know, I think you're gonna be the first English girl there. It kinda reminds me of that movie, y'know that old one with the bald guy and his kids and the English teacher..."

She broke off, raising her perfect eyebrows in the mirror for help.

"I think you mean 'The King and I'?" I said, wishing I didn't sound so bloody posh.

"That's it. Boy, you're accent is just so..."

"So how many of us girls are up there?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Oh about thirty to forty at any one time. You'll meet some of 'em tonight in the dorm. Well, that's what we call it. They're apartments really. Real modern too. Yep, they sure do know how to look after us. Anyhoo. Here we go."

We pulled round another corner and then I saw it for the first time, at the end of a long clear path in the treeline. For a moment I was fooled. It looked tiny, then I realised that was because it was still quite a distance off. The hill road was interrupted by a pair of iron gates, beyond which was the continuation of the switchbacks, leading to the... house... It was cut into the side of the mountain and looked like a Japanese castle that had been suspended upside down by some miracle of gravity, then teleported half way into the rock face and left there. Tiny lights glimmered under its pagoda roofs and after a while I realised that these were windows. At several levels, terraces had been cut into the hillside to form grassy pastures and expanses of farmland that were big enough to contain several football pitches. One of the terraces looked to be some sort of airstrip. The view would be unbelievable. It would also be quite hard to escape - a far cry from the factory complex I had operated in before.

Lori had noted my silence. "Ain't it something?". I nodded dumbly as we pulled up to the gates, which parted smoothly to let us through. We negotiated the remaining switchbacks, the house getting bigger with every turn, until we were finally swallowed up underneath its grotesque mass...

To be continued.