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Chapter 23 – One Last Trip Home

I know that you believe you understood what you think I said, but I’m not sure you realized that what you heard is not what I meant.

Steve was in the back of the crowd in the restaurant to ensure that his new undercover agent got the sendoff that Rose had been instructed to give her husband. He watched as she exposed Jack as the cross-dressing sissy he appeared to be and as she and her escort totally humiliated him.

Once Jack was out of the building, he faded into the back of the room and made his way through the kitchen to the alley behind the building. He was completely satisfied at how Rose had been manipulated into turning her husband into the kind of person Ivan would zero in on like a fly to sugar.

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It had been a day or two before Daisy's disastrous debut in public that Steve had met with Rose about Jack's departure. It had been necessary to smuggle Rose into the HLS offices in an enclosed van so that any observers that Ivan might have posted would not see Rose. It would not do to have the wife of someone who suddenly appeared in Ivan's life to be seen dealing with HLS agents.

It had been planned out that the party at the restaurant would be the point in time where Rose would publicly break up with Jack and throw him out of the house. Any investigation by Ivan would produce a hundred witnesses to confirm Jack had been treated like dirt by his wife and there would be no doubt that he was on his own.

From the beginning, Steve and the psych team had been monitoring Rose's activities with the cameras that had been installed in the house and he reviewed the psychologist's analysis of the Sokolov couple many times. The psych team felt that as Jack approached the point where he would be ready for Linda's training, Rose was also reaching the point where she might refuse to follow through with the final steps that were required.

For example, Jack had complied with Rose's threats and demands because he loved her and because he lacked self-confidence in his ability to find another job in the current job economy. His confidence had taken some major hits as a result of the psychological manipulation he had experienced at Rose's hands. Of course, she had been following the instructions of the psych team so that Jack was now exactly what Ivan was looking for.

Rose's motivations were a bit more complex. She wanted to do something patriotic in the war on terror, but she also had some kinky impulses that she liked to indulge in. So she had been manipulated to see Jack as her patriot-surrogate. In addition, her sexual preferences told the psychologists that, while she was happy with her sex life with Jack, she had actually preferred her lovers to be female or feminine at the very least. Her arrogant and self-centered personality flaws, caused her to brook no argument when she wanted something or thought that she was justified in her actions. They merely encouraged those flaws and desires.

The evaluations had been used to guide Rose's treatment of Jack and they had played her like a violin. That was why Steve had been so concerned in their final meeting. Rose had not actually refused to go through with cutting Jack loose, but she was objecting to how they wanted her to do so.

"I don't like hurting my husband, agent Garibaldi! I think that he is more scared of me these days than he loves me."

When he couldn't get her to commit to cooperate with him, he left the room on the pretext of getting them both some coffee. His boss, Bill Hampton, and the lead psychologist were watching the meeting from the other side of the mirror in the conference room. Rose had not even given the mirror a glance when she had been ushered in.

"What the hell are you doing in there?" Hampton had practically shouted at Steve. "If that bitch backs out now, you can kiss your career goodbye!"

All Steve could do was to remain silent and grit his teeth. Hampton probably had not seen any kind of action in the field in the last ten years. How could he possibly understand the behavior of the people on the street and how to deal with them?

Steve hadn't wanted to come into the office today because it was becoming very difficult to hide his developing figure. He had resorted to wearing two separate tight shirts to conceal the bulk of his breasts and his hair just looked like he was in serious need of a haircut, because his hair was growing like a weed. He had already explained it away that he was working on a project that made it so that he didn't even have time to go to the barber, besides the longer hair worked with some of the disguises he was forced to use.

He didn't really know why he hadn't cutting his hair short yet. Maybe it was because he was growing a set of breasts that told the casual observer that he might be a woman. If he wore a crew cut, everyone would think that he was actually a she-male. By keeping his hair long, he could present himself as a woman to those observers. It was a macho thing.

"Relax boss," Steve tried to say soothingly. "This kind of situation happens all of the time. When you're dealing with civilians, you just have to know what buttons to push."

"You had better start pushing the right buttons or I'll kick your ass! I've promised my boss that this project will catch Ivan. If it goes south, I could lose my pension."

The psychologist spoke up before things became too heated.

"Sir, we need to be careful with Mrs. Sokolov. Her mental state is bordering on unstable. We have been manipulating her these past months and feeding into her own emotional needs and fantasies to get what we want. I believe that we can get her to go through with exposing her husband and throwing him out of the house by reminding her of her patriotism and how her husband is becoming the kind of lover she really wants. However, we need to encourage her to seek professional mental counselling once her husband is out of the picture."

Hampton's resistance or indifference to Rose's needs was apparent to the doctor by how his mouth tightened. It was obvious that he really had no interest in helping the woman. Rose was just a means to an end.

The doctor spoke up again and said, "That is my professional and official assessment Mr. Hampton. I'll be submitting my report to my department head and we will be acting to get Mrs. Sokolov the help that she will require."

Hampton looked like he just tasted something sour. "Fine!" he snapped. "I don't give a rat's ass what your department does. As long as this operation goes on without a hitch!" He made a mental note the communication between Rose Sokolov and her sissy husband would need to be monitored carefully, if not blocked entirely.

Hampton watched as Steve got the coffee he had left the room for and then returned to Rose. The psychologist turned to Hampton once Steve was gone.

"Sir, I've noticed some changes in agent Garibaldi lately. I think that he might benefit from some time speaking with a counselor himself." Without knowing Steve's full story, his observations were entirely accurate.

Hampton's attitude was typically macho. He just curled his lip at the thought of Steve's appearance and said, "That's fine with me. I'm planning on moving him to a desk assignment anyway. As far as I'm concerned, he needs to see a shrink or a hair stylist. Maybe both." He stalked out of the room and left the psychologist to continue his observations.

Steve set the coffee on the table in front of Rose. He figured that she had had enough time to think about what he wanted her to do and what she wanted for her life. Threats were the last thing that would possibly work with this woman; her Irish temper would actually make her dig and refuse to cooperate out of spite.

"Rose, I understand that you don't like what we want you to do to Jack. You have to remember that this last move is probably the most important. You've spent weeks getting Jack to look and behave like a feminine man, but our target will never believe Jack's cover if we just have you kiss him goodbye and send him out into the big wide world. Everyone must think that you have totally cut him off and that he is completely alone.

"He is going to be hurt by this, but we will explain things to him at the right time and he will be okay. When this is over, your husband will be a hero and a patriot. We won't be able to give him a medal though; we wouldn't know how to pin it on him. Not the way he will be built when he comes home."

He said this last bit with a slight smile. Patriotism was all well and good, but he knew that Rose's self-interest would work better here. By subtly reminding her of the lover Jack had become, she would be thinking of what she would be getting out of this. Steve was sure that she would never have sex with a man again, unless that man was in a dress and wearing makeup. Sure enough, Rose slowly agreed that what Steve dictated to her as the only way and they had gotten down to working out what she would say and how she would act.

He also made sure that she had the phone Jack was to use to get into contact with his handler. Once Jack was in Linda's charge, he didn't care how much Rose might regret her actions.

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A bewildered Jack managed to get outside of the restaurant, barely able to see through his tears. Her words had cut Jack to his very core. He looked back into the club in the hope Rose was following him, but the window was tinted so all he could see was his own reflection. To prevent any further embarrassment he used his window refection as a mirror to replace his wig and re-positioned the breast enhancer. He had the strangest compulsion to touch up his tear stained makeup, but quickly submerged that deep in his soul. He stood up straight, gripped his purse and Rose’s hankie and tottered toward his car. The walk to the parked car seemed to take an eternity. Tears were streaming down his face in such a steady stream that they seemed to dig furrows in his makeup. He couldn't help but remember an old saying from his childhood. "Tears are only words the heart can't express."

When he finally reached the car, Jack sat behind the wheel for several minutes trying to understand why Rose, the woman he loved with all his heart, the woman he trusted, would betray him like this.

The tears made it impossible to drive, so all he could do was sit and think. Jack stared down at his left hand and his new ring. He started to take it off and throw it away, but something made him stop. Staring down at his exposed cleavage Jack thought 'I may not be much of a man anymore but I am a man of my word, I promised I would wear it and so I will. If nothing else it will serve as a reminder to never open my heart to another woman.'

It took another couple of minutes to compose himself before he felt up to driving. Jack's feelings of abandonment were overwhelming. The pendulum of his emotions swung from sadness, fear, sorrow, to self-pity and finally settled on an overriding burst of anger.

For the first time in his life, Jack actually felt the need for a cigarette. He sat there smoking; blowing out long streams of smoke toward the windshield. When he checked his reflection in the rearview mirror, Jack thought back over the past few weeks and tried to analyze his feelings. He was never much of a man and, if he was truthful with himself, there was a lot to like about being an attractive woman.

The seed had been planted in his brain that maybe he would be happier if he went ahead and became a real woman instead of a hybrid shemale. Depending how the future worked out he filed that idea away as a possible action. Right now he just felt trapped and betrayed. There was no joy in his foreseeable future, he quietly mumbled to himself, 'Maybe I will go home and just kill myself.'

Taking a last deep puff on the cigarette, Jack flicked the butt out the window. 'On second thought I would do just that; but that vindictive bitch would probably push my body to the floor and fuck her lover right there before my corpse was even cold. No I won't give that whore the satisfaction of knowing she has completely destroyed me.' Using the hankie, Jack dried his tears, checked his face in the rearview mirror, and immediately realized any serious repairs will have to wait, so he started the car, not sure what his future would hold. The internal debate continued between suicide and SRS.

Jack drove as cautiously through town as he could. He just wanted to get home and out of there before Rose and Mike showed up. 'I would just die if I was there when they get home', thinks Jack. 'How can Rose do this to me? This whole thing was her idea. I was sure she loved me. Well, I guess I am not the first guy in history to be betrayed by a woman. Damn it! She is still my wife; didn't our vows mean anything to her? I pledged my love to her and promised to love her till the day I die.'

Pulling into their driveway Jack got out of the car. Looking back at the street, he saw a police car cruise by. 'Just great that's all I need', thinks Jack. Reaching the front door he fumbled with his keys, his heart pounded, his hands shook, the long fingernails he had been saddled with not making the job any easier.

Talking to himself he said, "Why won't those cops just drive on?

The cruiser was slowing down to survey what appeared to be a streetwalker. The driver looked over to his partner to say, "Nah, it can't be, not in this neighborhood." They slowed to watch the overdressed woman until she disappeared inside the house and then they drove on. Jack breathed a sigh of relief as the car's taillights disappear into the night.

'How would I explain all this', Jack thinks to himself. Alright, let's get this over with.'

Stumbling on his high heels, he managed to get into the bedroom. First order of business was to get a suitcase, which were all stored in the master bedrooms walk-in closet. Opening the door, he was taken by surprise. All his male cloths were gone, not even the hangers were left, just a void on his side of the closet. 'Where the hell did Rose hide my real clothes', wondered Jack? 'Well first things first. I need to get out of here.'

Spying the suitcases on the top self, Jack realized he couldn't reach them, so he retrieved a chair from the bedroom office desk. Rolling it into the closet and preparing to stand on it, the first of many lessons hit Jack. Wearing a skirt and high heels creates a whole new dynamic when it comes to something like standing on a chair.

To be safe, Jack determined he would take off his high heels before standing on the chair. Bending over to undo the straps gave him a view of his massive breasts dangling down. "Damn those things seem to get in the way of everything," mumbled Jack (If Jack had known what the future held in store for him he would have had a completely different opinion of their size.)

Jack found that with the long finger nails, shaking hands, and over tightened straps made loosening the straps a fool's errand. 'Damn her eyes', thinks Jack, ‘she intentionally over tightened these things. I can't get sufficient slack to undue them'.

Giving up on the shoes, he managed to finally get up onto the shaky chair. Jack had to stretch to reach the suitcase. Just as his hand closed on the handle, the chair slowly started rolling. As the chair picked up speed, Jack lost his balance and panic set in. One hand was clutching the suitcase and his free hand was flailing for anything to steady himself with. The only thing he was able grab was a pile of Rose’s underwear that was stacked on the shelf as the chair finally slipped out from under Jack. The law of physics took over and he dropped onto his ass. Jack crashed to the floor, bruised his coccyx and banged his head. He was laying there waiting for his head to clear with a suitcase in one hand and a pile of underwear on his face. Laughing to himself, Jack thought, now this brings back some childhood memories. Scrambling to his feet, Jack violently threw every dress in the closet into the opened case. Laughing to himself he says, "They are all mine now I guess."

The two additional inches and tightly synched straps made a big difference, and the soft thick carpet of the throw rug raised the difficulty of walking in five inch stilettos to a very dangerous level. Every step felt like a game of chance.

Jack dragged the bag into the bedroom and started packing underwear. Again the entire dresser contained nothing but frilly feminine attire. Jack didn't even try to separate what was his from Rose's. He just kept packing until the suitcase was full. Last stop thought Jack as he headed into the bathroom for toiletries, toothbrush and shaving gear.

Rushing to complete this task Jack caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. What he saw was totally distracting, staring back at him was a stunningly sexy, beautiful - if over-endowed platinum blonde woman. A woman who desperately needed to do something about her makeup. Losing his concentration, he marveled at the small gold studs in his ears. 'Damn, she was right - the rich color of the gold did really enhance my new hair color', thought Jack.

He was shocked at what he just thought. 'Where did that thought come from?' Still admiring himself in the mirror, Jack stumbled catching a spiked heel in the throw rug. Losing his balance again he grabbed out for anything to keep his balance. This time he found Rose's vanity table. Unfortunately it was an old antique and was unable to sustain his weight. For the second time in as many minutes, Jack crashed to the floor. This time he landed among all of Rose's cosmetics. Jack comically landed on his still tender butt, radiating waves of pain from his tailbone. He had landed right on top of his new perfume bottle smashing it into small shards of glass and a pool of aromatic fluid. Unfortunately, as he shifted to avoid the glass pieces, his skirt acted as a large wick and absorbed the entire contents of the broken bottle.

Our cross-dressed hero slowly rose and attempted to extricate himself from this latest mess, now reeking of the sweet-smelling liquid. As Jack stood amid the wreckage, the final contents of the perfume bottles contents trickled down his nylons to slowly fill his shoes. Looking down, Jack swore, "Damn that will probably ruin these shoes." He was again surprised at his train of thought.

Opening the medicine cabinet to retrieve his toothbrush, Jack saw four boxes of Rose's hormone patches. 'Well the bitch may try and make babies with Mike but without these it ain't going to happen. I'll show the slut'. He threw all four boxes into his suitcase.

Dragging the case out to the car, Jack thought that the fresh air felt good. Plus, it was helping to disperse the cloud of sweet smelling perfume that continued to envelop him. Once the suitcases were loaded, there was no reason for him to stay. Rose had burned that bridge for him and there was nothing left for him now.

As the car reached the end of the driveway, he saw headlights coming down the street. "Shit, that can't be them already can it?" Stomping on the gas and speeding away, Jack wondered 'Will I ever be back here again?'

He finally regained his composure at a stop sign to realize, 'Shit where am I going?' He was still in sight of his former home and looked back to see the car pull into his driveway. The thought of Rose with another man in their bed made him absolutely nauseous. He began thinking about all those late nights at work and how Rose just accepted the sexual innuendos from Mike and things started to become clear.

'I wonder how long she has been fucking him. Hell, this whole government undercover gig was just an opportunity for Rose to get rid of me. I wonder if those guys are really from the government or has this whole thing been a setup to embarrass me.'

Now he was stuck looking like a street walker, with no place to even call home. Tonight he would stay in a motel and start working on becoming Jack Sokolov again. The state of economy meant that he would probably end up washing dishes until he could find another job in IT. At least he didn't have to worry about Rose and her meanness any more.

He pulled his purse to him from the passenger seat where he had thrown it. He would clean all of the nastiness out that Rose had put in to humiliate him at the restaurant. As he pulled out handfuls of condoms and tampons, he saw that Rose had replaced his black leather wallet with a childish pink thing with a caricature of Tinker Bell on the front.

Inside he found his driver's license that still said Jack Sokolov, but none of his credit cards. Instead of his cards or the money that he normally had in his wallet, there was a 20 dollar bill with a note clipped to it. "Jack, here is some mad money. Every girl needs to be able to get home from a bad date. Love, Rose."

"Shit, shit, shit," was all he could say. Hoping that Rose might have shown some mercy upon him, he dug into the purse again. His old phone was nowhere to be found, only a pink slim line cell phone with sparkles glued all over the case.

At this point he was so devastated at the depths to which he had sunk, he became violently ill. He shoved the car door open as the bile rose in his throat and he bent almost completely out of the car as the vomit erupted violently. Jack had enough presence of mind to quickly grab his hair to keep it out of the mess. His world had come to an end. Here he was leaning out of a car worrying about his hair and trying to keep his dress clean. 'What has happened to me', thinks Jack. After the contents of his stomach have been expelled and the dry heaves have subsided, Jack wiped his mouth with the hankie Rose had given him.

Before he threw the phone back into the purse with the useless wallet, he opened it to see if she had at least put his old contacts into his new phone. He saw that the inside of the phone was nothing like a girlie-girl's phone. It was a simple flip phone, but there was no keypad for entering a number. There was just a single button to indicate that the phone was to dial.

This was not the kind of phone that Rose would have put into his purse just to humiliate him. There was someone one the other end who was waiting for a call. The only question was would Jack actually make the call. But what choice did he have? His entire life had just been violently ripped away from him and he had nothing left. He didn't even have enough money to leave town.

Jack couldn't help but recall Rose's incessant instructions. "One foot in front of the other, short steps, arms out, elbows in, fingers point out, wiggle the hips. Mince down the line smoothly, like a dancer. Glide, Heel-toe, heel-toe. Feel good about yourself!" He had been preparing for this mission for months now and he had nowhere else to go. All he could do was put one foot in front of the other and see if he could make a new life for himself. As much as he wanted to drive away and forget this nightmare, he had no other options.

He opened the phone again and pressed the single button inside. After a moment, the call was answered by a male voice. All it said was to drive to an address downtown and to park in the garage. Someone would be waiting for him. The call ended with an abrupt click.

"Love means exposing yourself to the pain of being hurt, deeply hurt by someone you trust."