The party was great. Halloween was my favorite time because you could be whomever you wanted to be, your wildest fantasy come true. The humblest, most repressed person could step out as the most bizarre, most brazen, most outrageous creature they could imagine without fear of persecution.

I knew enough now that I passed easily as a woman. Things might have been different several months ago, but not now.

I kept getting salutes from other people in Army costumes, most of them jokes, but the few serious ones made me a bit nervous. Impersonating an Officer was a serious offense. If someone thought I was really trying to pass myself off as a real Officer, not just play one on Halloween, I could be in a shitload of trouble.

I had a fun time. Mistress and I danced with other men, danced with each other, and I felt like a princess for the first time ever. I just relaxed and let myself go, swirling around, eating snacks, drinking and having a good time. I think I laughed more than I have in quite a while.

I was called “Major Tailhook” several times, referring to the scandal of a few years back. Hopefully no one would try anything.

I knew that it was very possible someone might try something stupid like groping or even rape, so I did my best to keep my wits about me. I never finished a drink that I left, I didn’t go anywhere alone, and I didn’t go to anyone’s room. I hadn’t been to a “stay safe” class, I had seen enough on TV and in stories to know those basics.

I think I was a bit freer with the booze than was wise, but I really did want to relax and being a bit tipsy felt right, like any other girl out to have fun. I wasn’t drunk, just had a nice buzz when Mistress and I left around 2 AM heading home. We went to our car around the corner under a light since we couldn’t find anything closer to the party.

“Oye chicas, come with me maybe you don’t get hurt.” The voice growled from behind us. He grabbed my upper arm and Mistress and I were herded into an alley. As hard as it was I cooperated since I felt a gun barrel in my back.

Mistress was like a robot, moving stiffly. I could tell she was frightened, and I knew that there were all kinds of negative scenarios going through her head. I grimaced and said “We don’t want any trouble.”

“Good. Do what I tell you, you be fine. I want everything you got.” Once off the street, he shoved me and I pivoted to face him.

I could see the gun in his fist. The part of me that was still rational noted it was a Smith and Wesson Model 64 Revolver. I could see the hammer cocked and his finger was on the trigger. Not good. He was ready to shoot. Time slowed as the adrenalin pumped into my body.

I made it my business to look closely at him to memorize his description. Latino, about 18, dilated pupils, high on something, Chinese symbol tattooed on the back of his right hand. The catalog continued, 5 foot 10, about 140, dark hooded sweatshirt with pocket compartment in the front, band logo on the chest, faded blue jeans torn on the left knee, Air Nike, about size 10 male shoe. Shaved head.

I saw his hand come up leveling the gun at my face. “Stop looking at me bitch, or you gonna lose the ability to see anything. Gimme your purse.” He took the purse out of my hand and reached in blindly to grab my wallet. He dropped the rest and then turned the gun on Mistress.

I didn’t think, didn’t plan, I saw the gun in her face how badly she was shaking, I acted.

My right hand snaked out and grabbed the top of the gun, making sure to jam my hand between the hammer and the firing pin. I felt a hard pinch as the hammer fell, it just made me more coldly furious. I twisted the gun to the left, turning the barrel toward the back of his hand and away from Mistress and myself in what looked like slow motion. It felt like I was back in the practice ring, calm cool just another practice. Simultaneously, I pulled his arm close to my chest in a classic Jujitsu move; locking his elbow and breaking his trigger finger while I twisted the gun out of his grip. He should have let go.

Once I had the gun in my possession, and his arm secured, I twisted his wrist down in an arm-bar, bending him over by the waist making his arm shoulder and wrist hurt a LOT. He yelled, loudly, but stopped suddenly as my foot connected with his face, breaking his nose and snapping his head back. I continued twisting his arm down helping him reach the ground pushing on his elbow, forcing his face down into the pavement, hard.

I felt more than heard bones in his cheek breaking, but he was still conscious and capable of moving, so I continued the rotation of his arm, dislocating it at the shoulder and popping his elbow out of its normal L shape.

In seconds I put the foot that kicked his face down on the pavement, braced and raised my other foot and stomped his closest knee, dislocating it if not breaking the kneecap. I felt his joint pop and he lay on the ground screaming in pain. It felt like I had been moving this fool to the pavement for the last hour.

I released his hand and stepped back a bit to see what he would do ready to continue neutralizing him. He was on an unknown amount of an unknown drug, if it was PCP he could just get up and keep coming at me, know way of knowing. He lay there moaning while I inhaled slowly and heavily as I tried to come down off the adrenalin rush. I turned to Mistress, who was still shaking. “Karen, you have to call 911. I’ll keep him covered. Call them now.”

I carefully lowered the hammer on the pistol so that it wouldn’t accidentally go off. My hand smarted from where he had reflexively squeezed the trigger and the hammer had snapped closed on me. Mistress might have been died if I had failed. The pain and the bruising was a small price to pay for her life.

I squared up to a proper stance keeping the hammer down and my finger off the trigger, knowing this particular pistol was double-action. I had to keep talking to Mistress to get her to dial, but eventually she made the call to the police.

***

Sitting in a police station in drag is not a fun thing to have happen. When they arrived, while they were solicitous of the near tragedy, they still had to take me into custody since the would-be mugger was the one injured.

I sat there in the interrogation room waiting for an interview to make sure the story in the report was accurate. They had separated Mistress and I so we couldn’t compare stories and the mugger was taken to the hospital. Apparently I really over-reacted and he would be off the streets for some time.

Finally someone came in. Standard questions were asked, and I was asked to tell my side of the story. I had to clarify for the record that I wasn’t Major Taylor, as the insignia and nameplate on the uniform indicated, but SSgt Taylor, male. I explained the whole thing about the Halloween party and why I was dressed as a female officer.

Once I finished the explanation, he complimented me saying that I fooled him and everyone else in the precinct. He made some notations and then wrote my story down. He had me repeat it three times, just to make sure it didn’t change.

After about five hours of questioning, he finally let me go. I sat and waited for Mistress to show up since they were also interviewing her asking the same questions. I knew that I didn’t have anything to hide, and the truth was all I told, but I was still nervous since I only had experience dealing with Military personnel and not from this end of things.

Finally Mistress appeared. She looked white and I knew she was going into shock. I had to get her home soon.

We got our possessions back and left. A short ride with the officers to our car and the drive back home ended the night. I knew Mistress was upset and might even still be shaking, I would do anything I could to comfort her.

I had stayed in control when we got home. Curiously she seemed very obedient. I got her undressed and into a nightgown. I got her into bed and then I got myself ready for bed. For the first time ever I got in to bed with her. I held her and I comforted her the best I knew how. I knew from personal experience what that first brush with death was like, and I held her while she cried out the stress.

Somewhere around 9 AM we finally fell asleep together.

***

When we woke up, it was about 2 PM. I had the day after Halloween off also, mostly because those of us who were going out the night before needed the time to recover from overindulging. So those that were off on the 31st were also off on the 1st. It meant that I would have to serve on some other nights, but that wasn’t really a big concern to me.

I quietly got up and made breakfast/lunch for each of us. I made sure it was fortified and that it would be healthy for Mistress as well. I made sure it was high protein, low fat, with fresh fruit to round out the meal. No caffeine, no stimulants of any kind. I wanted her to go to sleep at about 10 PM, and since that was only a few hours away, it would be a coffee-less day.

I arranged it on a tray and quietly took into her bedroom and then gently woke her up by kissing her cheek. With a flourish worthy of the Maid I was, I served her breakfast in bed.

I think it went a long way to helping her restore her balance after the nightmare end of the party.

We talked about everything that happened. I tried to focus on going out in public to a party, the dancing and the fun things, trying to make her realize that the party is what she should be dwelling on rather than the horror.

When her potential death inevitably came up, I made light of the situation. “Mistress, how could you die? I was there with you. I would never let that happen.”

While that was true enough, I didn’t want her frightened anymore.

***

The First Sergeant looked at all the files on his desk. First the copy of the civilian Police Report concerning an incident involving Taylor after a Halloween party. Second were surveillance photos taken by CID several days in a row. Third was the report on Taylor’s computer records. He wanted to tear his hair out with frustration.

“As you can see First Sergeant, we have more than enough to prosecute Staff Sergeant Taylor,” the CID investigator stated, “Since you asked for this investigation to start, my First Sergeant ordered me to bring this to you first.”

“Most damning is the Impersonation of an Officer charge. Note please even though later in the investigation, the actual identity of Sergeant Taylor was verified, the fact that he initially responded as a female to ‘Major Taylor’, and allowed that to be written in an official report is really all we need. The homosexual activities are just icing on the cake.”

The CID investigator was serious. “If you decide not to do anything, I am under orders to report all this to the Judge Advocate General to take action. He will be prosecuted to the limit of the UCMJ and discharged from the Army. I bring all this to you as a courtesy. I have been instructed to tell you that you have 72 hours to decide what to do.”

He came to attention and left the office, leaving behind copies of what he had brought.

The First Sergeant had no doubt that they would remove Taylor from the Army in the most humiliating way possible. But might be another way.

He gathered up all the folders and documents, put them back in the files and went to see Captain Richardson.