The story continues and our Hero/in realizes she/he now truly has a seat of power to work from. When the operation goes south people outside the agency are there to take up the slack. Not only will she live to tell the story, but she get some justice for those have mistreated her. Self acceptance and love, come to ease her battered heart. (if you survived the first part without the tissue box handy, part 2 is much easier)

Chapter 6 Picking Up The Pieces

"And?" Tim questioned, in a single word.

"Undecided," I replied, in like manner.

We sat at the patio table and Kristy, my new maid, brought us a pitcher of tea and two glasses. She poured us both a glass and I thanked her and sent her on her way.

"Your uncle may have left you his estate, but the power and influence he wielded are not part of it," Tim stated flatly.

"Right now I am still in a bit of a shock that I got anything at all. I can tell you for sure that I don't need a job anymore or someone to order me around," I said in a curt tone.

Tim felt insulted and stood up, then buttoned his jacket and said he should be going. I told him Charles would take him back to his car. I didn't stand or shake his hand, so he just walked away towards the path that led to the driveway where the car was parked.

It was common knowledge inside the company that Tim had an attitude problem. I wasn't ready to quit my job, although, money wasn't an issue now at all. It did feel good to put him in a place a bit and I was sure a call from the director would soon follow.

When Charles returned, I asked him to take me home. I had some thing I needed to take care of. I would call when I needed him again. In the meantime, he should carry on as always.

I waited till Charles was out of sight, then fished the keys from my purse and started my car. I went downtown to the doctor my dad had taken me to years ago. He was retired now, but a friendly nurse, having seen my ID, gave me the file I asked for.

I went straight to the comments area of the file, as this would tell me what I wanted to know. In short, the doctor had determined that I had ovaries and a womb, but no vaginal canal. I also had a very small penis and balls, but he suspected that I would be sterile because of this.

In the end, he hadn't done anything save to tell my drunken father what he wanted to hear. I had male parts showing, however small at the time, and I was boy. That was enough to make dad happy.

I was six years old then. I had grown up and in a lot ways now. My next task was to see if my body had changed internally, as well. I called George's doctor, as he was also a friend of the family and gave him the upshot of what I needed to know and why. He set me up for an M.R.I. the next morning. I would soon know and maybe more than I wanted to.

Back at home I took a few minutes to unwind both physically and mentally.

The holiday season had gone by almost unnoticed to me. We were now well into the beginning of summer. I slipped into one of the bikinis I had left here and made my way to the beach. There was a lot of things still on my mind and would be for a while, but I needed the right information to make the right decision. Some of that would come tomorrow.

While the sun baked my body, the breeze off the ocean water kept me cool. As I lay there soaking up the sun, I did ponder the ‘what ifs'. When the sun got behind me, I decided I had enough and went inside. By morning my skin would have a rather nice tint to it.

I checked my e-mail and there was one from Greg, along with several from the company and one of those was from the director himself. The director politely scolded me for insulting Tim. I returned the favor reminding him I was a lady of means now and I had the president's personal number in my pocket. I didn't bother to read the ones from Tim, I would get to them later.

The one from Greg was more like a love letter and three pages long. The p.s. was what caught my eye the most. I'm told that you're a ‘rich bitch' now. That could have only gotten to him via Tim. Tim was already close to being on my shit list and now he held the number one spot.

Tomorrow after the M.R.I. was done and I knew the truth about my condition of my body, it was time, like the company, for me to have a plan. They had two and sometimes three for every operation. I only needed one and the right people to help me execute it.

I laid down that night and soon fell asleep. Tomorrow would be a big day for me.

Early the next morning I was up and gone with the sun. My appointment was set very early on purpose, as Dr. Harris was a very busy man. Well, that I wanted nobody, save him and I, there to see the results.

I had to lie still and quiet for most of an hour to get it done and I was surprised when he sat and explained what he saw that the images were so clear.

There was a short, but very visible vaginal canal now and my ovaries were about the normal size for a person my age. He surmised that my ovaries had been dormant, in a manner of speaking, till I had taken the hormones a while back. Once they had been given the dominant roll, they started to work all on their own. There was more he told me, but in short he determined that I was more female than male in my current condition.

I'll admit I was a bit taken back when he suggested that I finish what I had started as soon a possible. Not that he suggested it, more the way he did it, as if I had never been a man at all. Maybe even that I had no claim to manhood at all.

My phone rang just as I got back in my car. Charles was the one that called me and asked me to return to the estate, as soon as possible. He would come and get me if need be. I told him no and that I would be there in about a half hour. When I asked him why I needed to be there he got evasive.

While I was stopped at a traffic light I touched up my lip gloss. I suspected now that I had control of George's estate there would be all kinds of people wanting a piece of it from me. I knew George gave a lot of money to different charities and figured now they expected me to do likewise.

The garage door was open when I arrived, so I parked the car inside. Whoever was here need not see my old Oldsmobile Cutlass. As soon as I entered the house, Charles ushered me down to the study. There sat the director and I did all I could to hide my shock.

"Nice to see you again," I said, as I walked by and took my seat, not shaking his hand along the way. "Is this business or personal?" I asked, as soon as I was seated.

"Straight to the point. Maybe you haven't changed so much as I was told," he smiled. "Business, like always," he added.

"Such as," I replied, as I crossed my legs and leaned back in my chair.

"Rio," he questioned.

"What about it?" I replied, seeming not to really care.

"I think you have some unfinished business there," he stated.

"I doubt you traveled all this way for something you could have done with a phone call," I replied in a firm tone.

"Is that your woman's intuition speaking?" He said trying to shake me up.

I smiled, "Sir, if you intend to talk down to me or try to rattle me, as the way of the company, maybe you should know that I know what George knew." I held up the keys to the safety deposit box that Mark had told me about before he left. I hadn't looked at the contents so far, but, according to Mark, it was what George used to keep more than a few people of power in check. His eyes got big as saucers and that reaction alone spoke volumes.

"I'm glad to see that you realize that knowledge or information is power. You know, as well, that it can change hands in the wink of an eye," he added.

That was nothing more than a veiled threat that told me George had the goods on him. "By all means, Director, send your black bag crew to the bank. The box is empty now and I am the only one that knows its contents. However, if something should happen to me, you never know who I might intrust that information to in my will," I added.

His face was nearly as crimson as the dress I had on. I knew then what I had suspected was true. He was doing his best to keep his composure, but the beads of sweat that burst from his forehead told the real story. Charles was the only other person that had access to the box at the bank and I had sent him to get it as soon as I had arrived. Of course, the director had no idea that I had done so.

"So I take it the operation in Rio is off," he spoke softly, trying to change the subject.

"I still have a couple of weeks to make that decision and I will tell you when I do," I stated in a way that broke no argument.

He sighed and then stood and headed up the stairs. He wasn't one to say goodbye even on the phone. Once he had said what he wanted to he would just hang up on you. Had he taken the time to do differently it would have been out of character and another clue to just how shaken he was.

When Charles returned, I asked him to close and lock the front gate and to secure the house as best he could. I took the oversize briefcase and went to the study to review the contents.

Kristy brought me a large salad for lunch and Charles stood at the door of the study with his assault rifle in hand.

I opened the case as I pulled out seven very large file folders. On top was a short letter from George. In short, he reminded me of the first rule every spy should understand. Every war ever fought was over money or land. And somebody always made a lot of money selling the supplies to whoever was doing the fighting. Sometimes even the people doing the fighting were bought or sold. In short, follow the money.

I learned that Charles was a navy seal and Kristy was in fact an airborne ranger. She had even completed sniper school, not something a lot of women were even allowed to try.

The director had been part of Air America. If you know anything about them they were run completely behind the scenes by the C.I.A. It was a type of hide in plain sight operation. It takes a lot of money to fight a war and if you're not above getting your hands dirty to do it, there are many ways to finance it, including selling drugs. I'm sure you can put two and two together from there. Now I had the documents to prove it as well.

I gave Charles the empty briefcase back and said he should return it to its proper place.

"That's not information you want to leave unsecured," he frowned.

"George told me there was a safe room here, but not where," I stated.

Charles looked at me rather stern and turned on the desk lamp. He didn't say anything.

The blue ultraviolet light allowed me to see the instructions written on the desk. I pulled the top desk drawer out as far as it would and heard the switch trip. I pushed it back in and heard it again. Then a door sprang open that was hidden in the bookcase behind me.

Charles and I walked about eighty yards and I stood there letting the computer do a retina scan and then that door opened. What I found there was an underground bunker that would rival anything the government had and then some. Most important at the moment was the wall safe embedded in a thick concrete wall.

I took a few minutes to survey the place and then put the information in the safe. From the drawing on the wall I knew there was a second exit that would allow this to be used as an escape route as well. It came out in the guest house just a few yards from the beach.

Once we were back in the study I told Charles we could stand down now, and he understood what I meant. There was a massive computer system in the safe room and I would have to check that out at some point in time.

Charles, Kristy and I had a long talk that evening over dinner. George worked and cooperated with several government agencies. They had, you might say, a mutual understanding. Keeping our country safe came first, personal issues came last, but each knew either one had enough power to exercise some control as to how that was done.

Charles knew about the operation I was working on in Rio and about Greg, as well. In a way he knew as much or more than I had at the start. He and Kristy, as a team, had already taken down a few turncoats in the operation as well as one of the leaders that had killed the D.E.A. men that had tried to take it down before. Like I said before the, company always had a plan.

Greg's father had worked for the same men that were now running the pipeline. We were the ones that started it years ago as a way to bring in cold war spies. The drug lords had taken notes, as it were, and hence taken it over once we were done. His father's association with the drug lords cast Greg in a bad light and very few if any trusted him, even as a source.

His weakness for the ladies was well known since he spent many years with his mom, as a young boy, hanging around the cabaret. Charles had thrown the D.E.A. more than one bone about Greg, so as to tip them off. So far they had turned a blind eye to it or so it seemed.

Then as if from nowhere, Charles all but dropped a bomb on me. He had been following the money for years now. It was somehow coming back here to the U.S. and he felt sure the whole operation was being run by someone here in the states. An ex-spy or, at the very least, one of their handlers. It had to be someone with knowledge of how such a thing worked.

I can tell you fist hand that spies go to great lengths at times to hide their true identity. Plastic surgery is the least of just some of the things they often do. Most of the time their main goal is just to survive long enough to bring whatever information back to whoever is paying for it. After that the pressure is off, so to speak, and they try at least to live a very average life.

Now that the cards were pretty well on the table Charles refused to let me go home without Kristy with me. He could lock down the estate and be plenty safe here alone.

I had already decided that Kristy at one time had been a man. The military record spoke for itself and I doubt there was a woman alive that would have survived what she had done. She later confirmed that with me in no uncertain terms. She had been captured and the drug lords had relieved her of her balls, mother nature petty well did the rest, and, no, she had not had the surgery as of yet.

At home I sat at my computer and tried to make all the pieces of the puzzle fit all nice and neat like. Much of I it did with little or no problems, but some of it didn't either and that was the part that really bothered me. Greg was one of those pieces, no matter how hard I tried he didn't fit anywhere. I know you're thinking that my bond with him was clouding my judgment. Trust me, that was the least of it.

Kristy was my sounding board and we talked about everything together. Even her rather slow transition into womanhood. She was well over forty now, but could easily pass for a twenty something and she was very pretty to say the least. I figured a little female bonding was a good thing since I was trusting her with my life.

Over the two weeks that followed she and I had a blast. We shopped and spent time at the spa. We even went to a public beach in our tiny bikinis just to see the effect we could have on the men. In the end we both had a good laugh at their expense and had a great time in general.

Chapter 7 Starting Over...Sort Of.

I called the director, as well as Tim, and told them I had started the Rio operation so I would finish it as well. When it was done everything else was negotiable. We would use plan B now as Greg was suspect. He would still be my shadow and now he would have a shadow as well. If he tried to sell me out, we would know.

Back in my corset, the same as before, I landed on the base in Rio. It would be hard to hide my suspicions of Greg, but I would have to for the operation to work. If he sold me out, I had orders to kill him and trust me, I would if it came to that.

Back in the motel and the same room, no less, Greg came to visit.

I wouldn't have put it past the company to keep the room and have it bugged to the last degree. On the flip side of that coin it wasn't too far fetched to believe that drug lords had done the same. I decided it was best to test Greg's loyalty right form the start. I would give him a bone, that is to say, I would tip him off that something was up and see where he ran with it.

At the door he gave me a kiss that I allowed and really enjoyed. After that it was nothing but a very cold shoulder. True, I was playing on his attachment to me, I hated doing that, but depending on who and what he told. Later on I could gauge his real loyalties.

I let him know that I had trust issues. He asked a lot of questions that I played off as not trusting the D.E.A. or their agents. Two were dead already and my protection was entrusted to them. You never name names and I left that part totally to his own imagination.

He excused himself to the bathroom looking rather sad when he did. He left his cell phone on the table since my computer was there and running already, I pulled the Simms card and downloaded all the info on it. He might have done that on purpose, but I didn't think it likely.

When he emerged from the bathroom he looked even sadder than he had before. He had been all smiles and happy the last time I was here so something was up for sure. He didn't sit back down, he looked at his watch and said it was time to file his report and he would see me tomorrow when I made contact with the doctor.

I decided to sweep the room once he was gone. If I was being monitored that close, I wanted to know who was doing it. I started a music file on my computer to play and turned on the hot water only in the shower.

As the music played, I swept the room for any listening device that might have been there. I found three and dropped them in the water pitcher that I had already filled. In the meantime, the steaming hot water would fog over any camera lens and give me time to turn it off or render it useless.

When I opened the bathroom door, the steam just rolled out. Someone had written on the mirror with a soap bar ‘you'er busted'. I acted as if I didn't see it and checked both of the air vents for cameras. There was one in the overhead and it was a standard off the shelf type.

I took the bubble gum I had been chewing and placed it over the mic. Then I put it back in place, but pointed it so it would not see anything worth wild. There were no other listening devices in the bathroom and now that the ones I had found were shorted out I took them apart to see who and where they were made.

I used the company data base to find out all I could about the devices I had found. The British secret service favored these devices, but the Russians were famous for using them as well to cast suspicion in the other direction. I highly doubted the Britt's were involved with this, but I put nothing past the Russians.

The next day at the doctor's office, after a lengthy interview, I felt he bought the story. As a man, I was wanted in several countries. As a woman, I was a complete unknown and wanted to make my way to the U.S. under the radar of the U.S. border patrol. I had already made it to Brazil, so he logically assumed that I wanted to make my way to Mexico and cross there.

For a fee he could and would arrange my trip to Mexico. He made sure I understood that there was no guarantee as to my safety or crossing the border. It was just passage to Mexico, after that I was on my own. He did give me the names of some people that could help me cross, once again, for a fee.

I didn't tell the company about the message I had gotten on the mirror nor did I tell Greg. For all I knew right now he was the one that had left the message.

The doctor had my information to contact me at the hotel. Now it was a game of wait and see. Someone would surely check out my story and we would be alerted when they did. Then it would be passed up the chain for a decision as to whether I got passage or not.

While I waited I sent all the data from Greg's phone to Charles at the estate. He and Kristy would go over every bit of data and get back to me with anything that confirmed our suspicions. There was quite a lot of it, but they wold know something by morning if there was anything to know.

It was midday on Wednesday when the doctor called and said I was cleared to go. I wasn't in the best of moods at the moment as the data from Greg's phone put him in bed with the Russians as well as the drug lords. I was not pleased that my first lover, as a female, had just done so to use me. He as much as admitted it to the Russians in a text message.

Kristy was steaming mad and offered to take him out on the spot. I told her no, but in time it would probably happen and she was welcome when the time came. She insisted that I allow her to shadow me now and I quickly agreed. If the company trusted Greg, I for sure no longer trusted the company.

I charged my burn phone and turned it on so Charles could track the G.P.S. signal. He could tell Kristy every move I made if we got separated.

After Greg left my room that first night, he ran straight to the Russians and told them he had placed the cam and bugs in my room. He, likewise, told them I was suspicious that someone was on to me. The next day he reported that none of the devices he had left in my room were working. Since I was suspicious already, he dared not try to fix the problem.

Late Wednesday night ten of us would be women were loaded in crates onto a freight train bound for Columbia. The crates were marked as perishable food stuff. One person per so none of us could talk to the others. Smart in a way as this stopped any of us from knowing our fellow passengers. I was allowed one small suitcase and, thankfully, it was never searched.

The crate was shaped much like a coffin and I called myself being smart when I brought some food and water just in case. We were boarded and checked at least three different times. One time we stopped but weren't checked. Around midnight the next night we were unloaded in Columbia and taken to a reasonably good motel.

I saw Kristy in the motel lobby and for the moment I felt safe. Greg came to my room almost as soon as I was settled in. Another train ride would start just after noon tomorrow and our next stop was Mexico.

"Did you not get the message I left for you?" He asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

I had to play dumb at this point. "What message?" I asked.

"Too late now, you're in the pipeline," he sputtered.

"Too late for what?" I questioned.

"Tomorrow's train will get you through central America. There will be many stops along the way, assuming you're not caught at one of the stops. You're next layover is just across the border in Mexico. That last part of the ride will get you to the Texas/Mexico border and they will kill you there," he hung his head.

"They who?" I sputtered, then realized what I had done. He wouldn't betray whoever it was that planned to kill me.

"The Reynosa cartel was given the contract. By who I do not know," he said in a single breath.

He left almost as quick as he had gotten there and Kristy was the next person through the door.

According to her, Charles was still sifting through Greg's phone book and other data. Greg had a lot of money in several different banks and some of them were in Russia. Others were offshore numbered accounts and so on the list went, so far as it went.

What the U.S. had feared the most actually might be happening. Much of the opium that comes to the U.S. in other forms comes from Arab countries. They grow more opium than they do food. Converted to U.S. dollars and then laundered through several banks the money can then be turned into weapons that the Russians supply to those who fight against Israel, a nation we are more than just friendly with. If they could confirm this was true, it would seriously undermine our friendship.

So far it seemed that Greg was a low level money laundry boy. Granted, he got a sizable cut, but that was a few years in jail at best. Never mind that it was very hard to prove in court.

The next day we all gave up our rooms at noon. We sat spread out around the motel lounge till just before dark and then one by one were taken away by taxi. Crated up again and now on another train the ride continued.

Kristy gave me a mini crowbar and hammer that I could use to get out of the crate if I had to. There was a good chance I would be left on the dock and my killers would just shoot the crate and wait to see the blood spill out, then leave. Kristy already had the train schedule and would be on station at the dock when I got there.

As we rode, I had to consider it a real possibility that I might be killed on the train and just left there. The cartels were known for taking trophies or making a show of the corps. At this point I almost hoped they would try it. At least I would see and know my killer or killers. I had no idea at the time Charles had sent three men from his seal team to extract me from Mexico and the whole operation as such had gone south.

I cursed the cheap high heels I had on as they hurt my feet. I felt sure I had done the right thing when I bought them on one of the shopping trips Kristy and I had taken. Everything I had with me was considered disposable right now. Save my gun, computer and few other items.

When the train stopped and we were unloaded again, I was tired and sore, to say the least. I listened as the crates were opened and the others complained bitterly about the accommodations such as they were. My crate was never opened and I felt sure the time was at hand for whoever to kill me.

The dock was quiet now and while I wasn't nearly ready to panic, I was working to free myself such as I could. When Kristy began to help me from the outside, it did calm my nerves a bit. Once I was out she quietly said we had friends here.

We loaded the crate with several bags of blood and closed it back up. Then we used the ladder for the overhead crane to get on top of some other crates. Now we waited to see just who came to do the dirty deed. There was no doubt I had been sold out. The question now was who had done it.

As we laid face down on the crates, I took Kristy's rifle and looked around to see if we really were alone. We were not and when I told Kristy, she said it wasn't wise to shoot our backup. There were three men otherwise well hidden around the crates.

Greg and another man, unknown to me at the time, walked in and stopped at the crate where I had been left to die. The other man sprayed the length of the crate with his automatic rifle. Greg followed suit and then each man picked up a suitcase left on the dock. I put a single round right between Greg's eyes and the men on the dock grabbed the other man and sedated him in like three seconds.

The sounds of gunfire would bring the local law running. We had no choice but to run ourselves. The seals had a chopper close by, but we would have to run to get gone before we were spotted. Each of the other men grabbed a suitcase and in a single move I ripped the heels off my shoes. Now I could run and we did.

With drop tanks and six bodies, never mind the suitcases, the chopper was slow to get airborne. We flew low and along the coast so as to avoid all but a few radar sights. The seals knew plenty well enough how to get past the few that asked about the unscheduled flight. When we landed on the estate, I finally breathed a sight of relief.

A lone seal took the chopper back to wherever he got it from and we took our prisoner to the safe room and chained him to the wall. When he awoke, he would tell us all we wanted to know and that would come all to easy. Kristy would play the part of a prisoner and Charles the doctor that had removed her balls. That was enough to start any man talking a mile a minute if he valued the family jewels.

We had a lavish dinner and I learned the names of the men that had gotten me out of Mexico. They are good men and after we ate we opened the suitcases that had been left on the docks. Each case had a million dollars, give or take a few bills. Part of that would have been payment for the hit on me.

I divided the contents of one case with the seals, Charles and Kristy. Trust me, they took it to and I was glad they did. The men soon left and they were all smiles. They would gladly assist me again at any time or so they said.

We printed and photographed our man in the safe room and started the computer checking for any match it might find. He wouldn't awake till some time after lunch tomorrow and then he would find Kristy handcuffed in the room with him. Nude, of course, so he would see right off what had been done to her. She had done this before and she told me it was always amazing to see that first reaction to what might happen to them. She didn't say so, but I knew she was going to enjoy it in a perverse way.

The room was wired, of course, and Charles and I could see and hear everything that would be said. Since he had been jumped from behind and never saw any of us, we very well had the upper hand.

Right now sleep was high on the list of things to do and we all turned in for the night. The estate was in full lock down just in case this guy was C.I.A. and they were to come looking for him. The computer, if it found anything, would chime to let us know we had a hit.

Over coffee and breakfast Kristy was all smiles about the part she was about to play. She purposely wore nothing but a housecoat this morning and we all had a good laugh about that.

With her hands cuffed behind her back and leg irons in place we put her in the room about an hour before he should wake up. Charles and I sat at the computer and waited for that moment Kristy had talked about.

He stood up as soon as he awoke. He could only move so much and when he realized Kristy was there, his eyes got big as softballs.

He tried to speak to her in Spanish at first then quickly changed to English. Kristy explained that she, too, was a prisoner and his eyes had yet to leave her empty ball sack.

"They did that to you?" He all but asked.

"Yes," she replied. She had that sad puppy dog look on her face and he tried at first to console her.

"Your turn will come, you will talk or lose your manhood and they might do it just the same if they think you're not truthful," she added.

He was shaking visibly now. It was time for Charles to make an appearance. He slipped on his white doctor's coat and walked in, then felt around like he was checking the work he had done to Kristy. The man was very quiet the whole time and Charles never even looked at him.

"Where are we?" He asked.

"I have no clue," she replied.

Just about then the computer alerted us that it had a hit. The man we had was a blood member of the Reynosa cartel and there was a price on his head, dead or alive, in Mexico, as well as in the U.S.

I say we get the information we can from him and then let Anna have her way with him for a while. If the change is not complete here in the U.S., he will be locked up in a male prison, that will pretty well ensure his death.

Charles cut off his clothes with a scalpel while he spilled his guts about all the agents he had bribed or turned. It wasn't till he all but sold Anna out as the ring leader here in the U.S. that we started to listen. Most of the names he had given us so far were people that already had been caught or killed.

Charles brought Kristy out with him this time and we turned her loose right away. He spoke in Spanish as much as he did in English and, thankfully, Kristy understood most of what he said.

More than selling Anna out, he sold out the director and several other high ranking officials. They knew the operation top to bottom and had turned their heads for a cut of the profits. That was probably more like a deal that allowed us to use the pipeline to move spies around to. Either way I had it all on tape and time would tell when I revealed what I knew to the right people. Even the director answers to somebody, so there are people higher up the food chain than him.

Anything that can be smuggled into a country can likewise be smuggled out. Anna was a Russian by birth, sympathetic to the cause, but not the government. With her hands on a pipeline like this she could help most any spy get out of the country just the same as he or she got in.

If I forced her hand to change this Reynosa family member from male to female and then let him go and tell them who and how it happened, well, that might be better than seeing him go to prison, Charles and I reasoned as Kristy followed along.

"It would be a clear message that someone had the power and influence to take them down at any time," Kristy spoke softly.

"I agree," Charles stated.

"We took their money, killed Tim, a C.I.A. member that they had in their pocket, and then did what we wanted with a blood family member. I think they would think twice about trusting Anna or anyone associated with the C.I.A. for a long time," I smiled, as I voted yes as well.

We'll need some leverage to get Anna to play along. She won't want to lose her connection without putting up a fight, I thought out loud.

"Deportation papers," Kristy spoke up quickly.

"Back to Russia," Charles added.

"Can we fake those?" I asked. "Long enough to make her play ball?" I added.

"Sure," Charles replied.

We had a plan and time would tell if it worked out right or not. If it did, it would be a big hit to the power of the cartel. Likewise, Anna would have to dissolve any ties with them and mother Russia as well. Two birds, one stone, that was a bargain anytime you got it.

I had no clue at the time that Charles had an axe to grind with Anna. Kristy did, as well, but not the one you might think.

You should understand by now that the pipeline was old and outdated. There were many other ways to do what needed to be done now. It was by far used more for the drug trade than anything else and with the right people and power taken away from it the D.E.A. could close it down with all ease. That was what I hoped to do. Might work, might not, but more than a few people would be nervous once the word got out and I would see to it that it did.

Somehow the next day Charles had the deportation papers for Anna. We served them and then offered her the deal. She could play ball with us or take her chances with a government she hated. She did not accept at first and called the director thinking she could out muscle me.

When the director called me, I told him to walk away and smile. Air America would be proud if he did. Now he knew that I knew and I had the goods on him to end his time at the top on a moment's notice. He threatened me, I patronized him and then just told him straight up we had one of the Reynosa family members and we intended to send them a message. That was like slamming on the brakes at one hundred miles an hour. He was raging mad now.

In short, the cartel knew Anna worked for the C.I.A. Anna knew who I worked for and when the director didn't come to her aid, she would inform the cartel that their son had been given the treatment, compliments of the company. That was like painting a bulls eye on his back. He had nowhere to go and no way to run. I fully expected he would resign as soon as we dropped our prisoner off.

It took most of a year to erase his manhood and for the sake of it we'll call him Bobby when it started. Although, he now looked much like Betty.

Kristy created a decent maid out of her, although, she looked a bit overdone with her Double D cups sticking out of the top of her maid's uniform. There wasn't an ounce of sag either, she wore a bra almost around the clock. It was that or a corset, she chose the bra. We air dropped her with a static line chute so close she all but landed in her own front yard.

I would have loved to be a fly on the wall for that one. He or she was a disgrace to the family now and it was a good bet if she lived, that she would never be seen in public again or not as long as she carried the family name.

Two days later the director resigned and went underground. Tim thought he would get the nod to take his place, but that didn't happen either. Tim had more skeletons in his closet than the old director did. Tom Hardy actually ran the company now and he was a good man. Another man got the figure head position, but when was that something new.

Tom was all but spotless compared to others that had been in his place. As soon as the word was out that Tom was running the place, Tim left as well. I got an e-mail picture of Tom whooping it up with a stripper. I was sure his wife would not have approved. I had no plan to use it, but I kept it just in case.

A month later Kristy and I did a little traveling and got the operation that made us legally females. Mine was much easier than hers as I had some of the right plumbing, so it was just a matter of getting it to look and work right. And my breasts took a growth spurt just after. I was a full D cup now.

Anna closed up her practice and save to do a little something from her home now and then, she led a low key lifestyle.

Charles, Kristy and I did retire a few not so savory people and collected a handsome reward for doing it. I never told them it was the president that had asked me to do it. And, yes, we split the money evenly. Of course, we milked them all for information since that was where the real money was these days. One of them, and I wont say who, gave us the key codes to the money and different accounts Greg had.

We were all worth millions as we split that evenly, as well. I cheated my partners just a little, but they were given the option of taking the data disk that had who knew what information on it. They took the money and I took my share, plus the disk. When I finally broke all the encryption, I had enough pictures and other information on some rather high up officials to make a sailor blush.

When we elected a new president, I figured my line to the White House was cut. That was not true and I was surprised when he called me just a few weeks into his term in office. He was a pleasant man that I did not vote for, but I was more than willing to share information with.

Did I have second thoughts? As for completing my trip into womanhood, no. After I knew the truth on a physical level, I understood why and how it had come so easy on a mental level. In a manner of speaking, being a woman was just natural to me. To be honest I never really had to work at it.

Kristy and I met a set of twin brothers and soon fell hopelessly in love with them. They were moderately wealthy so there was no clash there and when Kristy and I went off on an operation together they just figured it was girl time. It worked for us and them. Of course, Charles watched them both like a hawk, heaven only knows what he might have done had they been bad while we were gone. That never happened.

We are all very happy now and see no end to that any time soon. I leave you with this simple p.s. I took from a small west Texas paper.

P. S. Roberto ‘Bobby' Reynosa was positively identified by a DNA match today. On the run from federal and local law enforcement for many years. He had almost become a she in an attempt to hide from the law. One person at the scene said she was just another dancer, not the owner of the bar. At the moment law enforcement officials have seized the property and are conducting a full investigation into his or her death.

Care to guess which retired government official they listed as a person of interest? Life is good and may you live in interesting times.......The End.