Can the son of a con man be any be any better than his father? Will his plan for a easy life come together or completely fall apart? If Grace has anything to say about it, he will have learned his lesson well. But then a con man knows he has to think through all the possible outcomes of the game. Did he get it right or will spend his life in prison.

Chapter 1

What I wouldn't give to be able to start over again, I thought to myself.

The judge just looked at me for several seconds as if in some form of deep thought.

"Your record," she stated, "goes all the way back to high school. Now, you have progressed from being a small time thief and drug pusher to... seven counts of computer fraud. How do you plead?" She asked.

Jimmy, my attorney, stood and started to speak. "My client, per an agreement with the DA's office, has agreed to plead guilty to one count of fraud. In turn they have offered 2 years of probation and time served. He has been in the county prison for just over two years now."

"And what have you to say?" She looked at the prosecutor.

"The defendant has agreed to full and complete cooperation with an ongoing investigation. He will be placed in our protective witness program until such time has passed or the investigation is concluded. At that time, as far as the state is concerned, he is free to go."

"Very well," the judge said, as she signed the papers in front of her. Then she paused. "I am not pleased that the count of assault and battery against his ex- girlfriend seems to have been completely overlooked in all this."

"She asked that the charge be dropped, your honor," the D.A. quickly spoke up. "In her own words she provoked the attack and admits to being drunk at the time," he added.

"Nonetheless," she spoke in a cold and calculated voice, "I suspect if the shoe were on the other foot..."

"That has already been taken care of, your honor," the D.A. interrupted. "Before he can leave our protective custody a full and complete new I.D. will have to be established. I can assure you the defendant will be very well acquainted with the softer side of life before he is set free."

"That is satisfactory with the court," she smiled. "I take it you have made travel arrangements and secured a suitable place for the defendant during this time," she all but asked.

"We have, your honor," he stated.

"Very well then. Mr Harvey, please stand."

I stood and hoped she didn't have some curve ball left in her pocket. I was far from being out of the woods as yet. Fully, half the boys I had roamed the street with were in court and now knew I had become a rat.

"Did you take this agreement willingly?" She asked.

"I did, your honor," was my simple reply.

"And you understand that the state has full control to do whatever is needed, as they see it to protect you?"

"I do, your honor," I spoke again.

"In one year I will review this case again. If at that time the investigation is over, or state protection is no longer needed a decision on your disposition will be made then."

"Dismissed," she slapped the gavel on her desk.

"Disposition." What the hell did she mean by that?" I asked my lawyer.

"She can end the probation or the protection if the DA's office has no need of you anymore. This is way better than the federal pen kid. You might as well have gotten away clean as far as the law is concerned. And look at it this way kid. Once this is done you can start over again with a clean slate. All your records from day one will be sealed never to be seen again."

Two officers took me out of the building the back way. I was put in a van with no windows so I had no clue which way or where I was being taken. I was a protected witness now so I knew I wasn't going back to jail or to another prison.

When the van stopped, we were in an underground parking area. My handcuffs and leg irons were removed and I was given a plain pair of jeans and a pull over shirt. Two men in black suits walked me to the elevator and we all headed for the top floor. One of the men had a room key ready in hand as soon as the doors opened.

The elevator stopped and when the doors opened, there stood a woman dressed in black much like the men that were with me. "Glad you made it Grace," one of the men spoke up.

"It was a little short notice," she smiled.

"Yes, well we had to move fast. A family in Chicago might have beat us to the prize if we hadn't," he said with a smile.

We walked across the hall and into the room where I was to be questioned. Two tape recorders were already set up and the D.A. was already there, along with some other people I didn't know.

At least for now I was free. And that wish I had made to start over again? It might start coming true and sooner than I had thought. Although, I had hoped it would happen in a different way. Ratting out people I had considered to be friends was not cool, but it was this or several years in the federal pen where I was sure to be killed.

"When was the last time you ate?" Grace asked.

"Early this morning," I replied.

"Let's you and I go down and get something to eat while the men here get acquainted," she added.

"Sounds good to me," I replied. "I could sure eat right about now."

Grace didn't talk much while we ate. She did give me grief about my long hair and lack of facial hair, like a beard or mustache. My father was a full blooded Indian. Mom says he never used a razor and she doubted I would ever need one either.

"Your parents still around?" She asked.

"Mom died when I was young and Dad passed on last year."

"And I take it he instilled in you the hatred most Indians have for the white man?"

"Not hatred, per se, but I do have a healthy distrust for a pale face," I grinned.

"Well, you can trust me and the men that brought you here. Our sole job is to protect you. We're not here to judge you. That has already been done. You choose to help us and we in turn will help you."

"You will pardon me if I seem less than convinced," I spoke softly.

"Well, that just makes us even," she smiled. "Nobody here is convinced, you know, enough to even begin to take apart the operation you were working in."

"What I don't know I can find out," I stopped her in mid sentence.

"Not after today, not with all your boss's men sitting in court when your plea deal was made public," she added.

"Yes, and that is the first reason I have not to trust you. It should have never been made public. That was like putting a target on my back."

"And you think we didn't already know that?" She asked.

"Oh, so you're sadistic too!" I said.

"No, but if they are busy trying to kill you, and they will be, they have to lower their guard elsewhere. Keep someone busy watching the front door and most of the time you can walk right in the back door."

"So then I am bait. You want them so busy with me that a person you already have in a key position can move up or in and get you the real information you want. Right?"

"That's pretty close," she smiled.

Chapter 2

Up till now I had been scared. But with the conversation I had with Grace fresh on my mind, I was mad and not just a little.

Hell, I knew everybody, right up to the top man. I had met them all in person and at least more than once. I had all the security codes to every computer in the operation and the password that would get me into all of them. Hell, I was the one that set up the system. Were they stupid enough to think I didn't have a back door pass to any information I wanted?

When we stepped off the elevator, we knew something was wrong. The door to the room was slightly open. She stepped in front of me and drew her side arm.

"Stay behind me kid, she said, as kicked the door the rest of the way open. "Holy shit," her eyes went wide.

They were all dead, every man in the room. One bullet in the back of each man's head.

"Guess you got what you wanted. They are for sure looking for me," I sighed, as I checked the last man for a pulse. "Now what?" I looked at her cold as I could.

"Now, we get the hell out of here. If they are here, they have someone on the inside. I only got this location ten minutes before you arrived."

"That's great." I replied. "And what was it you were just saying about ‘trust'?" I added.

She picked up the phone to make a call, but I stopped her. "Could be a person in the staff that ratted us out. Might want to call this in from another location," I added.

"Wise ass," she replied.

"We'll take the stairs down," she said, as she put her pistol away.

"Oh, like they won't expect that. They could have cleaned up their mess. They didn't so you would be tipped off. Do what you want but I am taking the elevator."

"Right," she smiled. "Let's go before they decide to come back."

"You're pretty good at doing what others expect that you would do," I said with some sarcasm. "Ever try thinking outside the box?" I added.

"Oh, what I am thinking right now is way out of the box," she smiled, as we stepped off the elevator and headed for her car.

"I hope so cause I hear a least one extra set of foot steps."

"Too public. They are just trying to follow us," she smiled.

"Trying? I would say you are making it rather easy for them to do just that," she all but laughed out loud.

"You're a smart kid, but not real smart," she smiled. "They will never make it past the exit."

"Sure," I replied. "By the way, I have some ocean front property in Utah. I will sell it at a great price."

"Save it for someone else, kid. Just get in the car and buckle up," she added.

"And by the way, I'm not a kid either."

"How old are you?" She said, as she took her time starting the car.

"20 next week, I replied.

"I'll be fifty next month," she smiled. "To me you're a kid. Get used to it, okay?"

She backed out of the space and headed for the exit. Great, I thought to myself, they sent granny to protect me. "What's next?" I said out loud. You taking me to the farm?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes," she said. "But not like any farm you have ever seen, I'm sure. Would you just shut up and ride? You're really starting to get on my last good nerve."

"There's a car..."

:I know. There is a car behind us. Would you please give it a rest?" She spat.

I didn't reply and as soon as we made the turn onto the street, the car behind us was blocked by a rather large truck. We were long gone before the truck moved and I suspected that was planned. How, I don't know. This woman seemed rather brainless to me, like most of the women I knew.

"Happy now?" She spat.

"Better," I replied.

"You shouldn't think out loud either. I'm not some brainless granny the agency sent to protect you. Right now I am the only thing between you and a plot in the local cemetery. A little appreciation would go a long way," she added.

I was tempted to ask to borrow her phone. That way at least I could be laid to rest in a place I liked. To say I was less than impressed would be a grand understatement of the facts.

"We're headed to my place," she told somebody on the phone. "Send me a medical team and do it quick. There are five men down back at the motel and all they need is a ride to the morgue. This one is hot. I figure it's best to hide this one in plain sight," she added.

"That's a contradiction in terms you know," I spoke softly since she was already mad at me.

"You're not much on subterfuge, are you?" She smiled, as if she knew something I didn't.

"Wow, big word. Am I supposed to be impressed now?" I asked.

"What's with the sarcasm?" she asked.

"Where would you have me start? This was supposed to be my chance to come clean and start over. And so far everything I have seen would fall under the heading of dumb and dumber. Look at it from..."

"No, you look asshole. Five good men just died and that price is far too high, as far as I am concerned. The person or persons that killed them will be caught and convicted cause the room was wired for both sound and video. The room is being processed even as we speak."

Now she was busting my chops and liking it, I might add.

"They could have stuck around and killed me and then you, but they didn't and that tells us something. They don't want you dead. They want you back, alive and well. So you have something or you know something they are more than willing to kill for, but they want you alive. Why is that?" She asked. For what reason do they need you alive?"

"Oh I can give you about ten million of them," I smiled.

"Dollars?" She asked.

"Yes, but they weren't part of the deal. Until now no one even knew I had it. I'll gladly start a trust fund for wives and kids of the men back there, but the money is mine no matter what you do."

"So you rip off the mob and use us for your escape plan?" She questioned.

"You think too small. I am still ripping them off... everyday. And will be till they figure out what and how I am doing it."

"You sorry bastard," she spat.

"No, no, pale face. Just the white man getting his just desserts."

For now I had said enough. I was content to sit back and enjoy the ride. We were headed into the mountains of Pennsylvania. Exactly where, I had no clue. We were a long way from Chicago and getting further away by the minute.

I hadn't exactly planned to use the agency for my escape, but when the boss allowed me to be arrested and then let me sit in prison without so much as a word being said, well, I knew then where his loyalties really were and that didn't include me. Or at least that was the way I saw it. And yes, if you haven't guessed by now, I was the computer geek that brought his operation into the 20th century.

Grace stopped the car in front of a modest size home. We were well into the mountains, in fact, the last fifty miles or so had been dirt roads. "This is your home?" I asked.

"Yes, more or less. And yours as well for the time being," she added. "It might not look like much, but I doubt any of your friends will find you here."

"They're not my friends and never have been."

"Well, for people you don't count as friends you sure put your butt on the line for them."

"Yes, well, I would say those chickens are soon to come home to roost. You wouldn't happen to have a good computer?" I asked.

"Of course, and several of them."

"Your room is at the end of the hall," she pointed with a big grin on her face. "While you're there, strip out of those clothes. You have already been seen in those. There is a house coat on the back of the door," she added.

"Your daughter's old room?" I half shouted.

"No, I have no kids and never have had. This is a training facility," she added. "The agency owns it, I just run it for them. But a no longer used child's room makes a good enough cover."

"For what?" I asked.

"You'll see," she smiled, as she took my clothes. "I need the underwear too if you have any on."

I slipped them off, but after I had on the house coat. I wasn't about to give her a show.

She dropped my clothes down a laundry chute, then asked if I drank tea.

"Yes," I replied.

I followed her to the kitchen and sat at the dinner table while she went to the fridge and got the tea. "What kind of training do you do here?" I asked, speaking loud as she was still some distance away.

"Mostly new agents," she replied over the clinking of glasses. "But I have passed more than a few witnesses through here as well."

"It's pretty quiet around here most of the time. The next round of recruits aren't due till after the first of the year. What with all the cutback and the economy being what it is, I get two classes a year now and that's not likely to change any time soon.

I took a sip of the tea as she sat down beside me. "I'm sorry if you think I am using the agency as a means of escape. This was not part of my original plan. I was going to disappear soon enough that's true, but this was not the way I had planned it."

"So I gather and I bet your boss did as well. Probably why he let you sit in jail like he did. Gave you time to think it all over, maybe come to your senses and give the money back.

"No," I replied. "You don't understand. I haven't stolen a penny from him, but a good friend of mine has been hitting him rather hard, say two or three times a week. Playing the ponies," I added.

"Professional gambler?" She asked.

"Yes, that is all he has ever done. Wouldn't know an honest days work if it sat on his face.

You think they caught on then turned him?" She asked.

"Not a chance. He doesn't even know he was doing it, much less who he's doing it for. He gets a cut and that's all he cares about.

"You must have been doing this a while to have such a large amount of money," she smiled.

Almost from day one. That is, after I set up his computer gaming operations." It was dark outside now and I was getting more and more sleepy by the minute. "Mind if I call it a night?" I asked.

"Sure, we can talk some more when you're up to it. You know where the bed is and try not to trash the room. I'll have to clean it up if you do."

"I'll do my best," I said, as I headed down the hall. I didn't bother to close the door. We were so far out in the sticks I figured nobody else was even close to us at the time. And I would say I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

Chapter 3

I awoke with the worst hangover I had ever had in my life and the nightmare I had while I was at it caused me to shudder.

"What a night," I said softly, as I sat on the edge of the bed looking at man that I didn't know. "Who the hell are you? I asked.

"The same person that brought you here."

He smiled and it was the same smile Grace had. My stomach started to heave and I made a bee line for the bathroom. "What the hell did you do to me?" I said, when I felt my tits hit the throne before my face even got close.

"Just part of the training," Grace's voice chimed in.

I looked over my shoulder and what I saw was still a man, even if it was her voice.

"You'll be okay. Just take a few hours for the drugs to wear off."

"Someone is going to pay for this," I spat, "and I mean big time," I gritted my teeth.

"Not likely," he said. using Grace's voice again. "And don't grind your teeth that way. We just got them fixed last month."

"Last month!" I shouted.

"I'm going to the kitchen. Breakfast will be ready in about 30 minutes. You drink coffee?" He asked. "Never mind," he said, "I know you do."

When my stomach quit heaving and I looked in the mirror, my breasts were at least as big as my mom's and that was good sized. I wasn't sure till I stepped on the scale, but yes, I had lost a good thirty to forty pounds, maybe more. My arms and legs were thin and hairless much like the rest of my body. My fingernails were long and painted and my toenails were painted to match. In short, I looked like a teenage girl.

I staggered as much as I walked down the hall to the kitchen. The man was sitting at the table having coffee and he poured me a cup as soon as I sat down.

"Not...so modest as you were when you first came here," he said, using Grace's voice again.

"Look, mister. I feel like hell and you're probably the reason why. So till my head stops pounding and I at least have some food in my stomach, why don't you go piss off," I spat.

"I see the attitude hasn't changed much," he said, as he went around to the kitchen area and came back with a plate of food. He placed it on the table and refilled my coffee cup. Then sat down and just stared at me.

"What?" I said, as I took my first bite of the food.

"Your real name is Henry Thomas Wilson. You're 16 years old and a computer genius as far as most can tell. Your father set you up with the mob and helped you make the fake ID you used. The locals didn't catch it, but we did the first time we saw it. Shall I go on?" He paused.

"I'll give you everything I have on the mob, but the money, along with Dad and I, walk.

"Too late kid. You already gave us all you know on the mob. As for you and your dad? Well, your dad split town the same week you were arrested. He's been gone for a while now. He was picked up in Miami running another con and he's been in jail for at least a year now. Anything else you want to know right away?"

"And the money?" I asked.

"Your dad blew his part of it paying for a lawyer that got him a reduced sentence. Just one life term instead of three. Whatever you did with your part, nobody but you knows."

I just smiled and kept working on the food I was eating.

"What? You're tired of talking already? I figured with as much sarcasm as you were pitching around when you got here, you would be just full of nice things to say now."

"Dad can fend for himself. As for me and the feds, we had a deal. My real name doesn't matter anymore than who my dad really is. So whatever you have in mind? Carry on. If you guys break the deal, just remember there is no such thing as a safe computer not so long as I am alive. And I can shut you down from anywhere in the world with just a few strokes of the keys."

"Wow, a threat. Am I supposed to be impressed now?"

"You're about as troublesome to us as a pimple. You think we can't make you disappear with a snap of our fingers. Hell, I could have killed you the first day and nobody would have been the wiser."

By the clock behind him it was just ten in the morning and suddenly I was getting sleepy again. I should have thought more about taking the coffee since he never drank any, save the cup he had started with. I was all but sure I had been drugged now and might not ever awake again.

Meanwhile back in Chicago:

"What's your feeling on this one Grace?" The director asked.

"Well, so far everything he told us has checked out. He is who he says he is. Both parents are gone, no real family to speak of save an elderly uncle that's in a nursing home."

"And?" He questioned.

"We can make him disappear, nobody will really miss him."

"I hear a ‘but' in there somewhere," he spoke softly.

"I know I shouldn't, but I have to question the sense of it sir. Giovanni's men will catch up to him sooner or later..."

"And if he panics, it was all for nothing.

I know. But I still think he knows way more than he has even started to tell us. Get him started, then give him access to a computer. I think you will be impressed."

"Is that your final word?" She asked.

:Yes, you're dismissed," he replied.

Grace thought long and hard about just how to do what she knew had to be done. She landed the Cherokee and eased it back in the hangar. It was a short walk back to the house and the kid would be waking up any time. Unfortunately, she hadn't gotten any sleep, but she would and soon.

Young Thomas awoke to the smell of food.

"Grace?" He spoke softly as he entered the kitchen.

"Yes," she answered from the stove.

"Sleep well?" She asked.

"Yes," I replied, but I wasn't about to mention the nightmare I had. She poured us both a cup of coffee from the same pot and I gladly took it with a seat at the table.

We ate and much to my surprise she was rather quiet till we were done.

"How did your father die?" She asked.

"Prostrate cancer, but they didn't find it till it had pretty well spread to most of his manhood, as well as his liver and other parts of his body. He went through several operations, including two that removed his manhood completely. But he died three years later just the same."

"Have you been checked for the same cancer?" She asked.

"No. According to the doctors it's not a type of cancer he would pass on to me or so they told me," I added.

"Come with me," she said, as she stood and headed down the hall towards her room.

She opened the bi-fold door that looked like a closet. It was an elevator and the doors opened as soon as she pushed the button.

"Enjoy the ride kid. It's one mile straight down," she grinned.

It took a while and when the doors opened, the horrid smell of a hospital blasted my nose. I always hated the smell of hospitals. I can't say why, I just always did.

"Grace, how great to see you again," a pretty blond haired women spoke up.

They exchanged air kisses and Grace introduced me to doctor Jones.

"Recruiting young boys these days?" She grinned real big.

"Not exactly," Grace smiled. He is smart and might make a good agent, but this one is here for protection," she added.

"I want a full body scan, blood work, tissue type, you know the drill. Bring him to briefing room three when you're done, please.

"That's a tall order. Hope you're not in a hurry," Dr. Jones spoke again.

"Take all the time you need," Grace smiled and started to leave.

"Am I looking for something particular?" The doctor said.

"Cancer," was Grace's one word reply.

I gave so much blood that day I was weak and then was x-rayed from my nose to my toes. Then I lay flat on my back for most of two hours for a full body MRI. A small patch of skin was taken from my left hand and a clump of hair as well. Then the doctor took me to the room where Grace was waiting on me.

She was sitting at a desk with a computer. The screen was projected on the far wall like an old style home movie. Actually, this was very hi-tech for a computer anyway.

The file she had opened was mine and as much as I could tell it went all the way back to my birth records. "Reading up on me?" I asked.

"Yes. Well, if we're going to protect you, we need to know who you know and who might know you... on sight," she added. "Places you have been. Since you will need to relocate we can't send you to anywhere you have already been. Things such as that," she smiled and offered me the seat next too her.

"Impress me," she said as she passed me the keyboard.

I checked the specs on the computer first. It wasn't hooked to any network and that was a good thing. I turned off the terminal echo and check for any form of a key- stroke logger. I checked the firewall and other security measures and it all seemed up to date.

I logged into a west coast server I used on a regular basis, then asked it for a trace. According to the trace, I was somewhere in Sweden. "Well done," I said to Grace.

"What do you think., we don't have our share of geeks around here?" She shot back.

I logged in and brought up my ex-bosses main frame. That day I gave her the real location of all but one of his gambling rooms and the take from the previous days winnings. Heck, I even showed her how he had rigged some of the games.

"He wont know it was you that checked in his system today?" She asked.

"No. His accountant lives on the west coast and uses the same server. If he does see it, and I doubt he will, he will just think his accountant was checking the numbers." I smiled and passed the keyboard back to her, after I had logged out.

She pulled up the agency file on my boss. They already knew where all his illegal businesses were. "Not impressed," she smiled, as she closed the file.

"This accountant have a name?" She asked.

"Miles Bradley. You can find him now at 440 Beach Cove Road, Myrtle Beach. He owns the resort there and flies out about twice a month just to check things out.

"Bought or built with mob money?" She asked.

"Not sure, but he handles a lot of cash for the boss," I smiled.

"So it could be a legit business, as far as you know. Right?"

"Could be... but I know he meets the boss there often," I added.

"Business or pleasure?" She asked.

"The boss has a regular girl and believe it or not she is his number one hit man or woman, as the case really is. Her definition of fuck them and forget them would make Mr. Webster's head spin."

"I bet it would." her voice turned soft as there was a knock on the door.

Chapter 4

"Come in," she said as she turned towards the door.

It was Dr. Jones and she didn't look happy at all.

She handed Grace a CD and Grace placed it in the drive.

My x-rays popped up first and Dr. Jones started to talk. She stood by the wall and pointed.

"As you can see here, he has had a broken arm, his left hip joint is already starting to go and his right ankle was broken rather recently."

"Go on," Grace said, when the next picture popped up.

"Here you can see the testicles and prostrate show up as being black. Not a good sign and we have confirmed the worst."

"Worst what?" I asked.

"Next frame please," Dr. Jones spoke calmly. "We did a chemical analysis on his hair. In the last six months, he has used cocain, pot and been exposed to LSD. He has some real deficiencies in calcium, iron, copper and several other vitamin and minerals. We can tell he smokes and drinks lots of coffee by the caffeine and nicotine levels we found. His hormone levels are lower than this bunker and that probably explains the sweet disposition or lack of it. And last but not least, according to the blood work, and yes, we did the test twice just to make sure, young Thomas here has about another four to five months before the cancer starts to spread into the more vital organs."

"Is that all?" Grace asked.

"Yes," Dr. Jones replied, then left the room almost in a huff.

"I take it you gave Dr. Jones a healthy dose of your sarcasm?" Grace looked at me rather stern.

"Well, she's not the sweetest female on the planet herself," I quipped.

"Do you recall the cemetery plot we talked about?" She asked.

"I do," I replied.

"Well, Dr. Jones just took my place. She can make your life hell, trust me. And that's if we can keep you among the living for any length of time. I would suggest an apology and I wouldn't waste any time doing it."

"What you think? I'm going to die like my father did?"

"Think? No, we have the proof that is exactly what will happen. You just saw it with your own eyes. What happens now is up to you and Dr. Jones. But I for sure wouldn't want my personal physician mad at me."

"I see your point," I said with my head down.

"Her office is the last door on the left at the end of the hall. She will send you up once you're done for the day."

Dr. Jones was sitting at her desk when I got there. Her blond hair pulled back in a bun and large oval shaped glasses perched low on her nose.

"May I come in?" I asked, as I stood at the open door.

"Sure," she replied, "and close the door please."

"I'm sorry, doc, if you and most of the other people around here can't see the humor in my sarcasm. I don't mean to seem less than thankful for the help..."

"But you're not inclined to trust us or anybody for that matter," she said.

"Yes," I replied.

"Well, for the record," she stated. "I don't know anything about you. I didn't find out in my lab, save your name of course, how you got here and why is none of my business. But it is my business to keep you alive and healthy. Grace did tell me you're on parole so I am not obliged to get your consent for any medical treatment I deem necessary. I would prefer you did... consent that is."

"And what do you suggest?" I asked.

"How long had you had trouble urinating?" She asked.

"How did you know I did?" I shot back.

"I'm a doctor. It's my business to know. How long?" She asked again.

"About six months now. About the same time these showed up." I pointed to my small but noticeable breast.

"They're called breasts," she smiled. "Been spending time at the prison gym?" She asked.

"Yes, but how did you know that too?" I said rather stunned.

"As your breasts were arriving, your muscle tone was going away. It's the common thing for men to rush off to the gym when this happens."

"Yes, well, six months ago I weighed 210 and could hold my own in a fight...," she stopped me mid sentence.

"Now you weigh 170 and would rather sleep or rest than go to the gym, much less get involved in a fight." She smiled.

"Is there such a thing as being too smart?" I asked.

"Not in my business," she replied with a smile.

"It's easy enough to get the vitamin and minerals back in the system at optimum levels. A large dose of B complex will smooth out your energy needs, as well as your personality. But that is not a major concern. The cancer has at least a six month head start on us. It's not treatable with any of the known methods. To be blunt we need to remove it now, today even," she added.

"If I say yes, I'll never be a man again. Right?"

"The only man you will ever be at this point is a ‘dead man'," she said, as cold as ice.

"Can I sleep on it?" I asked.

"Sure, the elevator is across the hall, just push the up button."

Grace was asleep when I got out of the elevator, but as soon as I stepped off she opened her eyes.

"That was quick," she smiled.

"Doesn't take long to know when your life is over," I said rather glum.

"I wouldn't say it was over," she propped on one elbow as she looked at me. "Just ready for a new start," she smiled.

"You think I should let the doc do what she wants?" I said with more than a little distrust in my voice.

"Well, this is more of a life or death choice at this point. The agency can keep safe easily enough, but then there isn't much need to protect a person that we know will die and sooner than later," she added.

"So once the agency has the information they want, they will just put me in a hospital somewhere and let me die. Is that it?" I asked.

"In a manner of speaking,... yes," she said with no expression at all.

"And if I say yes?"

"Then I will train you as much as I would any other agent. You will work for us till your boss and his organization are taken down. Then you will get that fresh start you wanted and with your training you should be able to keep yourself alive should someone figure out who you really are. Although, that is not likely to happen," she added. "Why don't you watch a little TV and relax while I catch a nap. When I get up, we'll talk about it some more. And you can think about it while your at it."

"Okay," I replied, as I headed for the den.

I was living with my father when he got sick. I had watched him go through all the things I was about be subjected to. Only my vital organs were still okay for now. It wasn't easy to see a big strong man reduced to what looked like a middle-aged woman.

The nightmare I had while I was sleeping seemed rather kind compared to the one I could see coming at me. True, my Id was fake and I'm just seventeen right now. How my father became part of that dream is a mystery to me. My friend on the west coast wasn't even family and he was making three to five thousand a week off of me. No way would he close up shop and run. As far as he knew, he wasn't doing anything wrong to begin with.

Right now I was leaning towards saying yes. I already had enough money to last me a lifetime, unless I got stupid and blew it all. That wasn't likely going to happen. I had long since planned to live the good life on some far away island with no extradition treaty with the U.S. I could still do that, but I would never be the lady's man I had envisioned while I was at it.

I was wondering out loud, if Grace had the power to re-negociate the agreement we made. If she could, I would say yes. If not, I would say no and let the cancer have me.

"Actually, yes, I can offer a change in the agreement to my director. But you know he will want something in return," she said as she stood at the door.

"Up already?" I said as I looked a the clock.

"I never was one much to sleep in the daylight hours," she smiled. "So what's on your mind?" She asked.

"I will give you the password and all the key information on my boss you'll ever need to take him down. Who killed who, where, when, how, and why if you really need to know."

"And for this you want what?" She asked.

"Your word on three things. First, my friend on the west coast will never be touched in any way. Second, my father's home and property will never be touched either. Third, I want to be on a plane headed out of the U.S. before I give you the final pieces of the puzzle with a complete new ID and all the old records of me here in the U.S. sealed forever."

"And the money?" She asked.

"You'll never find it and even if you did you can't get access to it." I smiled.

She picked up the remote for the TV and tapped a red button on it. It went into a picture in picture mode. She and I were one picture and the director was the other.

"What do you think, sir? You heard what he's asking for," she smiled.

"We're agreeable to that, but he will have to go the full course as recommended, Dr. Jones. We're not inclined to waste our time and resources to protect a person that we know will be dead in a few months."

"Agreed," I said, not knowing what Dr. Jones really had in mind.

"We'll get started right away, sir," Grace said, as she changed the channel back to the movie I had been half watching.

"No time for that," Dr. Jones said, as she now stood in the door. "We have lots to do and precious little time to do it." She smiled and took my hand.

In what seemed like minutes, I was prepared for the operation to remove the cancer I had. I wasn't asked to sign anything or told what would happen in the days that would follow.

"At least you will live and maybe a long time," the doctor said, as I was wheeled down the hall to the OR.

That was the last thing I remembered as sleep took over soon after. She did say she wasn't into watching her patients suffer and she would be liberal with the pain killers if I needed them.

When I did wake up, I wasn't in any real pain, save the feeling that my chest and stomach were being crushed in a vise. The doctor had a nurse give me a shot for the pain and soon I was out like before.

Some time later, when I came to my senses, I was walking down the hall to the elevator and hungry as a bear at the time.

"Press the up button," the doctor said, as she all but pushed me in.

Grace was there when the doors opened and with a hot cup of coffee, no less.

"Don't suppose you have a cigarette or two somewhere around here?" I asked.

"Actually I do. I bought you a carton while your were out for a while." She smiled rather brightly.

"A while?" I asked.

"Yes, the doctor wanted you to sleep through most of it and I agreed with her. Been kinda nice around here without your sarcasm flying around the room," she smiled even more.

"Breakfast is ready if you're up for some food?" She asked.

"Like yesterday," I replied. "I haven't been this hungry in ages."

The plate had one egg, three strips of bacon and two pieces of toast. I ate it like I hadn't seen in food in days. Then it hit me, I was so full I was all but miserable.

"The doctor said the operation was a success, just in case you wanted to know." She lit a smoke and passed me the pack.

"That's good news I guess," I said as I lit a smoke and poured us both another cup of coffee.

"You'll be weaker than your accustomed to now," she stated, "but we have an exercise program designed for you and your training will start as soon as the rest of the team gets here. You won't like it, I am sure of that much. But would you please just try to get along with the staff?" She all but asked.

Chapter 5

There was more than a few details she left out, but then I had already guessed some of it. I wasn't going to say it out loud as it were, but a blind man could see what was coming for me. There was precious little I could do but try to go along and get along. That's not an easy thing to do when it's people you have no reason to trust.

"It's time for my morning run," she smiled. "You think you can keep up?"

"With you?" I scoffed. "Anytime," I added.

The next stop was the bedroom and when I ditched the house coat, I got quite a shock.

"What the hell is this?" I said to Grace, as stood at the dresser.

"It's a corset of sorts, made of kevlar. Remember you are here for protection," she added.

No wonder, I thought to myself, as I looked in the mirror. And I guess I will be wearing this a lot?" I all but asked.

"Always, unless you are in the shower or visiting the doctor for whatever reasons. Try this on," she said, tossing me a jogging suit that was pink in color.

The one she had on was pink. So first guess was she wanted us to look alike in a way. Might confuse a would be killer seeing double, as it were, and unsure of the target he or she might try to kill us both or not at all. This kinda set the tone for things to come.

The first day we jogged a mile before I was ready to stop. Grace informed me that to pass the agents exam I had to do five miles. And each day afterward she pushed to go farther. The makeshift corset crushing my ribs an abdomen didn't help matters at all, but there was no way I was getting out of the house without it.

We didn't talk a lot. Small talk, of course, but mostly she gave me orders and I petty well did what she said. A month would pass before I realized how much the jogging and aerobics that we did in the afternoon had started to reshape my body.

After my shower one day, I noticed it and that wasn't all. My breasts were still small, but the nipples were now the size of golf balls and tender all the time. My balls were gone and had been for most of a month now, but it seemed now that my penis was trying to pull up inside my body. I had modest hips before I got here and they had gotten even more noticeable.

Another month would pass before I asked Grace if I could see Dr. Jones.

"Is there something wrong?" She asked, making a shocked looking face as she did.

"No, not really, but I do have some questions I would like to ask her," I replied.

"She won't be back for another month, but if you're feeling bad or sick, I can get back here," she added.

"No, no that's okay. I guess it will wait till she get's back."

As the next month passed, I kept my concerns about my body to myself. Needless to say, Grace kept pushing me harder each day.

By the time the first of the month rolled around I had lost down to 130 pounds. I could do the five mile jog with ease and then aerobic and weight training was another three to four hours in the gym. And with that all done every day, I might add, I was thinner and felt weaker than I was before.

I peed in a glass at least once a day and the Ph was tested with a strip of paper. For the last month now it had been right on. Even so, Grace was steady pouring the vitamins and minerals down me like they were water.

My breasts and hips hadn't gotten noticeable bigger, but according to the measuring tape they were, nonetheless. I expected some of this. I had seen it happen with my dad, but what I was seeing with me was much more pronounced and happening about twice as fast. This was the reason I was concerned.

The day finally came and I was glad to see Dr. Jones this time. She gave me a full exam, as I explained my concerns.

"Your breasts will only get bigger as will your hips. Probably no more than your mom had though. We could slow it down or even stop it with large doses of testosterone but that could and probably would bring on another bout with the cancer, as it seems to thrive on the male hormones.

"So what you're telling me, more or less, is that I will soon look like a girl and unless I want to lose even more body parts to cancer, there is nothing and less than nothing you can do about it."

"Not at all," she smiled, as if I had walked into a trap. "With a little work on your face I could make you blend in quite well with women. You're young and the healing would take no time compared to the other operations I did on you."

"What your really saying is this was part of the plan all the time." I was letting more than a little sarcasm slip out right about then and I saw it register on her face.

"Plan? No, I wouldn't say that. A standby option? Sure, we had to take into account that that might very well be the outcome. Your body is responding much like I expected it would. But plan? No, we were taking the wait and see approach. and you know as well as I do your body was already showing some secondary female traits before you even got here."

She had me on that last part. That much was true. "Choices?" I asked.

"I would say ride it out for now," she smiled. "If your body does continue to become more like that of a female, you can make whatever choice down the road a ways. This facility is for the training of female agents. I'm sure Grace would help you in any way you asked?.And as unbelievable as it might sound, you could try your hand at being a female for a while. You never know, you might like it."

"I sincerely doubt that," I replied, as I put the jogging suit back on and headed towards the elevator.

Grace has a direct line to the director. I was all but sure Dr. Jones did as well. In fact, I was all but sure Grace already knew everything the doctor and I had said.

When the elevator opened Grace was standing there. "Where are you headed to?" She asked.

"I was on my way up to see you," I smiled.

"Well, I am here and your real training starts today. About face," she said, as she pointed over my shoulder to the women standing in line down the hall.

She gave me the last spot in line and then opened the door and told us all to take a seat.

"So far all of you have passed your physical training. You have done tons of paperwork and then even more physical training. I am all but sure there is that lingering question of...why? In the top right drawer of your desk you will find a headset. Please put it on," she all but ordered.

The room lights dimmed and she took a seat next to a large white screen. From the overhead projection system a film started. The audio wasn't great, but it was interesting.

A reporter was narrating a foot-chase he was filming. Three armed men were being chased by two female agents.

"The chase has been going on for most of two miles now," the reporter spoke rather loud. "All the other officers are down, but according to reports back up is on the way."

Three men vs. Two women? Why the hell would they run? They could easily overpower the women and they were armed as well. These guys had to be stupid or something, I told myself.

A mile later the men just keeled over. They assumed the position face down and the women were on them in seconds. They kicked the guns away and then cuffed them on the ground. From the view of the reporter, the women were hardly taking a hard breath, while the men had seemed to give up from sheer exhaustion.

The film stopped and when Grace started to talk we could hear it on the headsets.

"This is why we train ladies. The men were armed, but out of ammo with no choice but to run they did, and most will. Speed is good in close quarters or when a suspect has a place to hide. Out in the open with no ammo and no place to hide? Well, it's just a matter of who can go the distance, as you have just seen. But there are other reasons we train as well."

The film started again and the setting changed quickly to a formal dinner of some kind.

"Sometimes we are asked to protect people in a formal setting. Still we have to be prepared for anything."

A blue transparent screen dropped down as the camera scanned the room. Every piece of metal became off black. Five of the women, dressed in rather pretty gowns, were wearing a Kevlar corset much like mine. They had there side arms attached to their legs under the gown. Handcuffs were there also, along with their badges. Extra clips were attached under the high heels they had on and they all had an ear piece and transmitter.

All of the staff working the dinner were men and they were likewise armed and had the ear pieces and transmitters.

"When your asked to protect someone, in a situation such as this your body becomes their shield. It's rather dramatic I know to be ordered to step in front of a bullet for someone else, but that is the job we are asked to do at times and that is what we do," Grace added.

We watched ten clips in all and then were given a test on what we saw. Some asked for our thought on the situation.

For the most part I answered them all and tried to keep the sarcasm to myself. When the test was done, it was off to the gym that I knew well by now.

Two very large women, probably weight lifters, I told myself, were standing at the edge of the stage area. Grace had long ago told me I was going through the training like any other female agent so I just stood in line and waited to see what would happen next.

"These women are twice as strong as you are," Grace stated, "but then so are most men. This doesn't make you defenseless if you know what to do and when," she smiled. "They're all yours ladies," she looked over her shoulder at the women.

This quickly turned into a self-defense class. But in a way it was more than just that. We were taught to go right for the soft spots. When and then, how, as well. Then when we had the upper hand, we were shown how to disarm or disable most any weapon they might have. Once through for each of us and then the aerobic started.

By the end of the day I was rather worn out, but Grace was far from though with me. I now had a tv in my room with a headset and my training continued, while the rest of the class slept or at least rested.

Chapter 6

When I asked Grace what this was all about, her reply was rather simple.

"You have none of the natural training most women get almost from birth. The training films you will be watching are for that purpose alone. We made a deal. We keep you alive and you provide us with the information we want. Well, this is our part of the deal once you have finished the class. It will be time for you to keep your part of the deal."

"So lets see if I got this? You're going to keep me here...protected, as it were. Train me to be a woman? Then once I have given you the information you bargained for, I will be released."

"Yes, more or less," she replied.

"And just how long do you think it will take for my ex-boss to figure that one out?" I spat.

"Well... that depends on you, I guess, and how well you accomplish the training." She closed the door and left me alone.

I watched the training film for about an hour before I feel asleep. It was mostly about good grooming habits, posture and so on. I was surprised in a way that it was so much different than what boys or men were taught. And I was surprised even more the next morning when I remembered it all.

After our five mile run the next morning we all ate in the bunker, as they called it. I was very aware now and held my back as straight as I could. I ate in small bites and chewed my food very well. I ate with one hand while the other was in my lap as was my napkin. It seemed odd to me at first when I sat up like the film said I should. It made my breasts seem even bigger than they were, but I did it just the same.

We watched more training films that day and after the test it was off to the gym like before. Each day our workout got harder or more advanced than the day before. And each night, as I watched the personal videos that Grace had for me, I became more and more aware of the things I was still doing as a man would.

Give credit where credit is due. Grace never pointed out any of my flaws. She did often compliment me on the changes she saw for the better. And now that the sarcasm was all but gone we talked much more than before.

As my fifth month at the facility rolled around, my breasts took a big growth spurt. The sports bra I had been wearing was no longer sufficient for the job. I never said a word to Grace, but amazingly new bras just seemed to find their way to my room. I had long since been wearing panties and I had the hips now to fill them out as well.

My checkup with the doctor went well and it was now that I knew I had plenty more to come in the boob department. I was none to happy to hear that, but Grace and the doctor were all smiles.

Just in case your wondering. Yes, I was sitting to pee now. My penis was so small now most of the time I never even saw it. And true, I had adopted the black uniform the rest of the girls were wearing, but I wasn't comfortable at all in it. The pants were okay, but the skirt was a real pain.

There was a break for Thanksgiving. It is a federal holiday now and it was just Grace and I for most of the week. Grace decided it time for my appearance to move up a notch and I knew it would be useless to protest.

Grace was a licensed beautician. So that week I got a full set of acrylic nails. I got a pedicure the next day. And then she cut and styled my hair giving me a perm while she was at it. There was still much for me to learn and I tried my best to follow Grace's instructions when we started on the makeup stuff.

By the end of the week, with the videos I watched at night and Grace's personal instruction, I could do a passable job with the makeup. I wouldn't say I was pretty at all, but Grace seemed to think I looked much better as a female than I did as a male.

The week before Christmas Dr. Jones said it was time for my new face, that is. There were other things that needed to be done as well, but she didn't elaborate that part at all. I cried the night before it was to happen even though I did my best not to.

I didn't let Grace or the Doctor see me cry the day of the operation. On New Year's day the doctor took the bandages off and my face was most one large bruise. Not so swollen as I thought it would be, but then at the time I didn't realize I had been down a full week.

For the first time in a long time I took a long hot dip in the hot tub. Grace didn't use it much, but she felt I had put out the effort needed. And this was a gift, so to speak, from her. Part two of that gift was she didn't put me back in the corset as soon as I was out of the tub like before.

From under her Christmas tree she gave me a wrapped box. It was a silk robe and night gown. I could tell this wasn't something cheap either. I thanked her over and over and she just smiled.

"You feel up to getting dressed?" She asked. "We have company coming over later."

"Like who?" I asked. "The director and some computer nerd that works for the agency."

"Guess it's my turn," I said with a glum face.

I had had phantom pains in my crotch ever since the first operation the doctor did. And today it was really bad. It didn't disturb me to not see my penis or the fold of my sack that now looked like a puffy vagina. My breasts did seem bigger than before, but the bra I found in the drawer fit, so I just passed it off.

Today I picked the skirt uniform and most any other time I would have chosen the pants. There was a garter belt and stockings laid out on the bed and I guessed they were a gift as well. I slipped them on and then the black panties to match the bra. I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw me in the mirror.

I saw the body of a well shaped woman. And it was me! I took a seat at the vanity and gathered my thoughts. Slowly and carefully I put on the makeup and with several months worth of practice I did what I thought was a better than average job.

The skirt seemed shorter than before when I stood in the heels I had on. I tucked the blouse in and zipped it in the back like I had been doing this all my life. I noticed then the blouse and skirt seemed tighter as well. Probably because I am not wearing the corset, I told myself.

When I went to the kitchen and found Grace, she just looked at me in shock for several seconds. Did I do something wrong?" I asked.

"Not at all," she smiled. "I would say you did it all very right," she added, as she circled me for the second time. "Well done," she said, as she stuck out her hand.

Just then the door bell rang and she went to answer it. I stood frozen till she gave the signal.

"Clear," she shouted from the foyer.

I poured myself a cup of coffee and turned around just as the director and his computer nerd made it to the kitchen.

Grace said the nerd's name was Jimmy.

"Nice to meet you," I stuck out my hand.

The director cut me off with the morning paper from Chicago.

There was a picture of a dead body being taken away by the coroner's office. Beside it, it said, Henry Wilson, age 21, was found dead late yesterday. He was on probation from the county jail and the police seem to think his death was mob related. Inside sources tell Prime News that there was one bullet to the back of the head that killed him instantly. Three witnesses positively identified the body and the police are sure their records will confirm the Id.

"The slate is clean," the director spoke softly as he handed me a large manilla envelope. "You are now Hanna St. James. The rest is there for the reading and I suggest you do," he added.

"I guess you want my part of the deal now," I replied, just then noticing my voice was much higher than before.

"Well...yes, that was the idea," he smiled.

"That laptop secure?"" I looked at Jimmy.

As secure as any computer will ever be," he stated flatly.

"Go to Facebook and type in ‘The Artist'," I said in a matter of fact tone. "Now, click on the personal folder."

"It's locked," he sputtered.

"Now type in CIA, all caps this time." I smiled.

"You used us," Jimmy spat.

"No...," Grace spoke up quickly. But she had to guess we would come looking sooner or later. And we would never try our own acronym as a pass word, it would be like telling him we were looking.

"Smart?" Jimmy said, as he looked at my personal journal from the first day I had started to work for the family. "My god!" He shook his head and turned the computer so the director could see.

"What's this folder here?" Jimmy pointed to the screen.

"You have a plane ticket tucked in that suit somewhere?" I smiled.

He clicked on it, but I knew he wasn't getting in. He looked at the director and then at me.

"Take what you have and confirm it," the director said, as he sent him to the den.

"So what's in the folder?" He looked at me.

"Recorded calls for most every hit he ordered, in date and time order, I might add. More than enough to put him away for years to come."

"Okay, so where do you want to go?" He asked.

"The Grand Caman Islands, pick one." I said with a smile.

"You're still not going to trust?" He grinned.

"Not on your life and for sure not on mine," I added.

He passed me a gift card from American Airlines and said it was more than enough to get me to the Islands.

"I do have one other question," he paused.

"How did you do it?" Grace beat him to the punch.

"A geek I went to school with, along with some help from me, developed a program to run the horse races in a simulation. Two computers I have set up run around the clock running every scheduled race on the books. It also collects all the data on the horses so it knows all there is to know and the jockeys as well.

The program is about 90% accurate and getting better all the time as it learns, as it goes, so to speak. We never take long odds, three or four to one tops. And the bet is never more than $500 on any one horse."

"When the system finds a race that it's 99% sure will happen as simulated, it sends a text message to my friend's phone. He places the bet with a bookie that I know works for my boss. He gives better odds than the track. We split the winnings 60/40 since I am the one taking all the risk. The money he bets with is always mine. The same computer wire transfers the money to his account to make the bet and then, likewise, takes the winnings later. We lose one now and then just to look as honest as we can."

"But some information is withheld to the very start of the race?" The director questioned.

"True, but if the probability is high, according to the computer, a second computer clogs the system delaying the posting of the race for about three minutes. Plenty of time for the computer to know the real outcome of the race and send my friend the text message to make the bet.""

So you're really past posting," the director smiled. "You could win every race if you wanted to, right?" He questioned.

"No. The wire service naturally gets slowed down from time to time. If it happened on a regular basis, they would get wise to it." I grinned a little.

"My friend and I split company long ago. He has no clue where he gets the money for the bet or the information to place the bet. He surely may suspect, but if he were asked under oath, he would have to say he didn't know."

"And the computers are where?" He asked. "Right where I left them and they always will be," I replied. "Not part of the deal, remember?"

"Are they still in operation or are you willing to tell me that?" He asked.

"Oh, yes, and my friend is making bets nothing has changed as far as that goes."

"And when we close down your boss?" He asked.

"He will just make the bet in some other place and life goes on. You have to understand as far as he knows he's doing nothing wrong in any way. And with a wife and three kids he can use the extra income I am sure."

Jimmy stuck his head in the door just then. "His friend is probably Martin Willis and I traced the computers to his father's house".

"Very well done, Jimmy," I smiled, "but Martin Willis is the bookie, not my friend. You did get the part about the computers right though. But then they are deep inside the Indian reservation in a house that belongs to me. My Indian name is listed as the owner and you and all the feds in the world can't touch it."

"He's right," Grace spoke up.

"But I bet the chief would be willing to cooperate with a federal investigation rather than take us on, as that might give his tribe a black eye."

"Why don't you ask him..um...her?" Grace grinned ear to ear.

"She's the chief?" Jimmy said dumbfounded.

"You thought of everything," the director smiled.

"I might have overlooked a few things here and there, but yes, I tried. Going to jail and then ending up here was not part of the plan for sure."

"You improvised well," Jimmy stated.

"Grace will take you to any airport you choose. She will walk you to the plane, but you have to give her the final password before you can board. Understood?" The director stated.

"Sure, not a problem," I grinned really big.

Epilog:

I stayed with Grace another two weeks and did my last checkup with the doc before I decided it was time to go.

The agency provided me with little and nothing so I went to the airport rather bare handed. I swiped the gift card and got the ticket, then tried to find an easy way to say goodby to Grace.

At the last moment Grace did give me my old laptop back. The agency had had it all this time and I still had to tell what they wanted to know. I laughed at the thought.

"It may not work," she smiled. "The agency kinda has a way of breaking things like this."

"It's okay," I grinned.

"You were great pale face. I will always count you as my friend." She laughed as she held back the tears. "Finally, after most of a year, I get you to laugh," I said through my own tears.

"You know I have to ask," she stated.

"Yes," I smiled, "but you're a very smart girl, so I suspect you already know."

"Type in my name," she spoke to Jimmy over the com link.

"Bingo," he all but shouted back.

I leaned over and whispered in her ear. "Try that one on the boss's main-frame...you might be surprised"

"You little rat," she smiled. "You did use us!"

"No, but it never hurts to be prepared. It works well in other places too," I grinned, as I headed down the causeway.

The End