The sound of my alarm going off pulled me from the dark pit I’d been in. I rolled onto my back and the shifting weight on my chest made me realize that it all wasn’t just a bad dream. The last two days had really happened. I slowly pushed myself up and groaned.

“Oh, man, am I sore.”

Every muscle hurt as I moved around Kristina’s bedroom looking for something to wear while I worked out. It took a full ten minutes to warmed up and get most of the stiffness out of my system. I set up a different set of calisthenics to run through, focusing more on my core and less on my chest and back today. I’d have thought, that after two days trapped in this awkward female body, that I’d have gotten used to the differences, not so much! My breasts still had a mind of their own, moving wherever momentum took them. My hair was a pain in the ass and I had to go hunting for something to tie it up with. Even then the pony tail flipped around tugging on my head was distracting. And then there was my ass!

Until now I’d noticed it was a little bigger, and I could really feel it sort of flexing and moving but now I noticed that unlike my male butt, it tended to jiggle as well. It was much less obvious than my new breasts but when I was doing flutter kicks the extra padding was very noticeable. But it was worse when I did any calisthenics that had my upper body going right and my lower body moving to the left, every strange, new, sensation was incredibly distracting.

After about forty minutes I moved into Katas trying to instill some muscle memory into my new body. I finished up with sets of punches, blocks, and kicks. I checked the clock and saw that I was right at ninety minutes and spent the next ten stretching before I grabbed a water bottle and headed to the bathroom. Today’s workout had been harder than yesterday, but that was to be expected, day two of a new exercise program always sucked!

This time when I got to the bathroom I focused on taking care of business. I used the toilet and discovered that dropping a duce was pretty much the same in Kristina’s body as it had been in mine. The only real difference was that as I bore down to push, I accidentally started peeing. I figured I just didn’t have the fine muscle control I needed for this body, yet. At least this morning everything went where it was supposed to go!

Based on my conversation with Kristina yesterday I searched through the bathroom cabinet and spotted a new bar of soap. And then my eyes landed on a scale.

“I wonder, how much does Kristina weigh?”

In a weird way, I felt like I was intruding on something private, but then I had to laugh. Based on what I’d been doing with her body, how much more intimate could I get? So I stepped on the scale, 61 kilos. I tried to do the quick mental conversion and figured it was around a hundred and thirty five pounds give or take.

My curiosity satisfied I got the shower going, and paid more attention to where I was aiming my tits when I stepped in. I’d learned to protect my sensitive nipples from a direct blast of water from shower. I was feeling a little guilty, after Kristina caught me yesterday messing around in her body, so I focused on getting clean and ignoring what I was feeling. I also didn’t want to deal with wet hair so I left it in the ponytail and did my best to avoid getting it wet. Out of the shower I started my normal drying off routine only to remember that my skin was more sensitive.

“God, there are so many things to remember about being female!”

I put on the cotton bathrobe and went back to Kristina’s bedroom. The search for clothes was starting to feel like a new routine. She had so many things to wear and such a variety. As a man I’d never had the need for so many different things. I supposed if I wanted to I could spend a half of a day playing dress up. In a way it was tempting, just to see what Kristina looked like in different outfits, but the male part of me rebelled. They’re just clothes after all!

While I was hunting through the underwear boxes in her dresser I found a pair of what I could only assume were “boy-cut” briefs designed for women. With a grin, at having found something that seemed a little manlier in her wardrobe I pulled them on and then found a light blue bra. I figured I’d give it a try, hooking the thing with my arms behind my back. After two minutes of frustration I returned to the hook it in front and spin it around technique. I guess I’m just not good enough, yet with female clothes. Then what I’d thought hit me, ‘Thank, God!’ Once my new girl parts were covered I went to the closet and stopped when I saw my reflection in the mirror on the door. It was just so impossible, yet, here I was. Then as I looked at Kristina I noticed a small discolored patch of skin near her bellybutton. I took a closer look, and even though I’d seen it earlier, it really hadn’t been very important.

The birthmark was a small spot, and after a minute I decided that it sort of added character to the white expanse of skin. Then, I looked at the small growth just below my right breast. It wasn’t a mole or a wart.

“Kristina, really ought to get that removed.”

I mused while looking in the mirror. At last done with my inspection I went into her closet and started rooting around. I found a pair of light blue denim jeans, a black t-shirt with some white letters on it and a light blue denim looking shirt designed to be worn as an additional layer and left unbuttoned. The outer shirt matched the jeans so I figured Kristina had bought them to be worn together. Since the weather was cold and damp I put this on and then looked into the mirror.

The girl that looked back at me, was ordinary in that cute, girl-next door, kind of way, I never would have guessed that she was hiding a man’s mind.

“Well, I guess that’s a good thing.”

I went to the kitchen and fixed a bowl of cereal and then sat down on the sofa to watch TV. It was typical morning television. A couple of overly caffeinated hosts discussing, current events, sports, and pop culture all to a backdrop of the London Bridge.

I was feeling a little bored so when I returned to the kitchen went to work cleaning. I don’t particularly like doing dishes, I mean who does, right? But they’d been piling up so I went to work. Once the dishes were done I started cleaning the kitchen and then expanded to cleaning the rest of the apartment. I found a broom and swept up. Dusted, and straightened everything before moving to the bedroom.

The two windows in the room were providing plenty of light and curious I went to the window set into the angled pitch of the roof. From here I had a good view of the residential neighborhood I’d seen yesterday when I went out with Lana. Houses lined the street and when I leaned toward the glass and looked to my right I spotted the cemetery I’d identified yesterday as a land mark.

I moved to the other bedroom window and saw that from here I could look into the backyards of the houses on my side of the street. This was very different from what I was used to in America as each house sort of had its own garden area. Although, this time of year everything was taken in, as winter was here.

I didn’t see a laundry bin anywhere so I went back to the kitchen and found a couple of garbage bags in a box under the sink. I returned to Kristina’s room and started stuffing everything that looked like it might be dirty into the bags. There really wasn’t that much so I only filled up one bag. I lifted it up, and was again surprised by how much effort I had to put into picking it up.

I dumped the bag of dirty laundry in the closet for now, I’d have to take a trip to the laundromat, then I paused, ‘No in the UK they call it a launderette, I’ve got to start doing a better job using the right terms.’ I thought. But that would be for later, right now I didn’t even know where the closest one was. So I set to work cleaning the bedroom. I remade the bed, noting that the grey and yellow-dotted bed cover gave the room a sort of whimsical feel. For a minute I was tempted to go through the junk drawers and organize them. After all having clothes in the drawers made more sense than junk. But then I let it go, this was her place not mine, as funny as the image of Kristina back in her body, running around looking for her stuff was, it would be sort of rude.

It was getting close to lunch time and I went back to the kitchen and started hunting for lunch. Salad, veggies, microwave popcorn, there were things to eat, but nothing really appealed. Then I settled on a veggie omelet, only when I checked the fridge I discovered that I was out of eggs, and really low on milk and bread.

“Well, it looks like I need to go to the store.”

The sound of my voice was still disturbing, but I was starting to get more used to it. I dug out the boots I’d worn yesterday and then grabbed Kristina’s purse and cell phone. Since I didn’t know where I was I used the navigation feature of the phone to help and searched for the closest grocery from my present location. As it turned out there was a small local store only three blocks away. Perfect, I wouldn’t even need to drive. It wasn’t that I was opposed to driving, I’m an American after all, but in the UK they drive on the wrong side of the road. I’ve adjusted to that before, but if there was no reason to use the car, then I was good with it.

I went to the hall closet by the outside door and pulled out her shiny black leather jacket and then on the top shelf I saw a baseball cap. With a grin I put it on and then cursed when the ponytail I’d forgotten about got in the way. I pulled my hair through the hole in the back of the hat and adjusted it on my head. Now all I needed was a pair of sunglasses and I’d be incognito!

Luck was with me and I saw a set of large sunglasses with a white plastic frame in her purse. I shut and locked the door behind me and as I walked down the stairs to the street I was more than a little self-conscious. Yesterday, I’d made this trip with Lana and her steady stream of chatter had distracted me from how much my balance was different. Now even with low-heeled boots, I felt like I could tumbled down the stairs at any second.

Safely on the street I turned right and headed toward the cemetery checking my phone’s app as I walked. The day was a common English winter day, overcast, cold, and wet. Still it was nice to be out of the apartment, ‘Damn it, not an apartment it’s a flat.’ I thought. My American accent and idioms had made Lana wonder what I was doing yesterday. At that I shook my head, ‘What was Kristina thinking? If she had to swap with someone why not pick someone from the UK? At least they’d get the speech right.’ I thought. Then I figured that it was probably because she hadn’t really planned it out. She’d been going on pure instinct. I spotted the store just up the street on the other side. When I got to the corner I took a quick look around and felt a weird sensation like I was being watched. I paused to look around and didn’t see anyone.

“Alright, Jimmy-boy, you’re just being paranoid now.”

There wasn’t any traffic so I crossed the street and then went into the store. It was a typical neighborhood grocery. Smaller than the Walmarts we had in the States and filled with things I recognized and stuff I didn’t. The store was almost empty this time of day during the work week and the click clack of my boots sounded unusually loud to me. Before I’d left Kristina’s flat I’d spotted a cloth bag that I assumed she used for quick shopping trips and had stuffed it in my purse. I pulled it out now and wandered up and down the aisles. Mostly just looking, I mean how hard is it to find eggs, milk, and bread? However, I had plenty of time to kill so I just sort of meandered. As I did I noticed a black sedan parked along the street just in front of the store. It was an expensive looking late model Mercedes and I wondered how it handled.

After picking out my things I added a six-pack of beer and a bottle of Merlot. If I had to sit around all day, I figured I should treat this as a vacation and tip back a few drinks. I got to the counter and saw a dark skinned guy, probably in his forties, manning the register. I put my bag on the counter and smiled at him, “Hi, how are you today?”

He sort of blinked at me and then grinned, “I’m good. Are you an American? I’ve seen you in here before, but I thought you lived around here.”

I felt my face heat up and wanted to curse. In my best fake British accent I said, “Nope, I was just playing around.” And then I flashed him a quick smile.

“Ah,” there was a little disappointment in his voice, but I felt relieved that he’d bought it.

He started scanning my stuff and I watched him closely still feeling apprehensive. I noticed that he was staring at my front. I glanced down, but other than the way my boobs pushed my shirt out, I didn’t see anything unusual. Then it hit me, he was staring at my chest! For a second I found this hilarious and I sort of leaned back pulling my shoulders up and back. This caused my tits to stand out even more and I watched as he almost dropped the jug of milk he was scanning!

“Careful,” I said, “those, jugs, can be . . . sensitive.”

At this he grinned broadly, “I imagine so.”

I paid him and took my bag out feeling pleased at having made his day and then what I’d done sort of hit me and I stumbled. ‘I am NOT a girl’ my mind screamed, ‘flaunting Kristina’s rack is just . . . wrong.’ Then another voice, a new voice, answered, ‘But what if I only use my super-boob-powers for good?’ At this thought I started to giggle. I stepped out onto the street and my good mood evaporated when I saw the guy, standing by the sedan. He was the same guy who’d been stalking me yesterday!

“Miss. Curtis, might I have a moment of your time?”

I felt my heart race but I tried not to let it show. Then I looked to my left and nodded, “There’s a coffee shop, if you buy me a cup, you can have ten minutes.”

“Certainly,” he said, and extended me a hand, “might I carry your bag for you?”

“Thank you, no.”

Then without waiting to see if he’d follow I headed to the shop. Unfortunately, he caught up to me in two strides and I was suddenly very conscious of the difference in our sizes. I might have been tall for a girl, but even with my boots on he was taller. He was also broader and thicker, I felt a switch sort of flip in my brain and I started evaluating him as a possible threat.

I guessed he was six two, two twenty, so he had four inches and ninety-ish pounds on me. His reach was longer and he was moving with a strong athletic stride. My first move needed to distract and surprise. I could fling my bag, with its ten pounds of groceries at his head. He’d react by bringing his hands up. I could use my momentum, generated by turning toward him and the toe of my boot to drive a roundhouse kick into his sternum. Kristina’s legs were strong and I knew this would double him over and knock the wind out of him. I’d need to step back and then an ax kick would bring my heel down to the back of his head. That should be enough to stun him.

Then I shook my head, what was I thinking? I wasn’t on an op, he wasn’t a threat, I just needed to pretend to be Kristina and see what he wanted. We walked up to the counter and I ordered a straight black coffee, no cream or sugar. The guy gave me an odd look and ordered a Cappuccino. ‘I guess he expected me to order a girlie coffee,’ I thought, with a smirk as I picked up my drink and moved to a table to one side. I picked the table because it was between a pair of doors. I could get out by heading in either direction, this would prevent him from blocking an exit.

I sat down and crossed my legs suddenly aware of the way my flat crotch dropped comfortably onto the hard plastic seat. I’d have been wincing in my body if I’d done that. Then I realized that I’d also crossed my legs by putting the ankle of my left leg onto my right knee. I quickly shifted so that one knee was draped over the other, girl style, before he got to the table.

After he sat down I nodded to him, “So, thanks for the coffee. What’s your name? How do you know mine? And what did you want?”

He sipped his Cappuccino not speaking, just looking at me for a moment. I wanted to squirm under his direct assessment. Instead I forced myself to sit up straight and meet his glance with a steady calm look. ‘Take that, bastard!’ I thought, knowing what he’d tried to do and why. That sort of direct, penetrating look isn’t one civilians are used too. Most of the time people will look away, trying to avoid conflict, or trying to not be rude. That simple professional assessment would often unnerve people and get them squirming before the interrogation even started.

I gave him nothing, and calmly took a sip of bitter black coffee. For a second I almost choked! ‘What the fuck!’ I thought, ‘why the hell is this coffee so strong’ then it hit me, ‘duh, you have new taste buds!’ Still, I managed to cover up my reaction or at least I thought I did.

“Miss. Curtis, my name is Mr. Black. We’ve corresponded, but this is our first face-to-face meeting.”

His voice was a low rumble and it sent a shiver up my spine. I also noticed the light dusting of silver at the temples of his dark hair gave him an older, competent look. Combined with the accent and I was thinking of a forty year old Sean Connery.

“Maybe, can you tell me the name of the organization you represent?” I had no idea what he was talking about, but I hoped my clumsy fishing wouldn’t be too obvious.

He looked at me for a long moment, “Perhaps I was miss-informed.”

Suddenly, I was desperate, I didn’t know what was going on. I didn’t know what Kristina had gotten me into, but looking at this guy, I knew he was a professional. Probably a former soldier, SAS, SBS, or Royal Marine by his posture and demeanor and he’d walk before he’d be tricked into spilling his info.

I dropped my foot to the ground, pressing my knees together in a way I’d never have done as a man, and leaned in, “I think we’re both dancing around things we don’t want to talk about. So if you won’t tell me who you work for, answer this, did you retire from the SAS or did you get out to join up?”

It was a shot in the dark, but I figured I had a thirty three percent chance of success. Even if I was wrong, I was letting him know that I saw the signs, the ones that most civilians would miss.

“Retired, actually. You’re very observant, Kristina. May I call you Kristina?”

“No, not just yet. My friends call me that, I’m not sure we’re friends.”

He nodded, “I’d like to be a friend, just as the Society would like to be your friend.”

He said it smoothly and I felt a thrill! I had no idea what the Society was, but obviously it was important.

I didn’t hesitate, “I like having friends. What does friendship bring?”

Now he leaned back his look still penetrating but also a little more open. “Why didn’t you get on the flight?”

“I thought I was being followed. I panicked and returned to my flat. Remaining unnoticed is my best protection.” I made it up, but based on the bits and pieces I’d gotten from Kristina it should fit the pattern of whatever the hell was going on.

“I see. Are you still being watched?”

“I don’t know. I spotted you a couple of times.”

At this he grinned, as if to say I’d spotted him because he’d allowed himself to be seen.

“Do you still have the item?”

“Item?” I was pretty sure I knew what he was talking about, but decided to be a little vague. I still wasn’t sure I could trust this guy.

Black shook his head, “Don’t waste my time. It’s too late to play dumb.”

I sighed, blowing a strand of hair out of my face, “I can get it.”

Mr. Black reached into a coat pocket and I tensed up. Depending on what that hand came out with he might be getting steaming hot coffee in the eyes.

“Easy, girl,” he said, pulling out an envelope and sliding it over the table to me. “Our resources are limited here, in London, at the moment. It would be best if you didn’t miss another flight.”

Then not waiting for my response he stood up, “It’s been a pleasure, Kristina.”

I watched him walk away and wondered what in the hell I’d gotten into. I slowly reached down and opened up the envelope. Inside was a ticket for tomorrow’s red-eye to Mexico. Okay, I may not be the sharpest tool in the shed but I wasn’t that dull. I had a weakness for helping women and it had gotten me in trouble in the past but this was a whole new level of trouble. I needed to talk to Kristina and he needed to come clean!

The walk back to Kristina’s flat was colder and felt longer since I was walking into the wind. At least the sedan was gone as was that feeling of being watched. I was lost in thought as I climbed the stairs. It was a bad habit I’d picked up over the last couple of years. So my first indication that everything wasn’t quite right was when the stranger, by Kristina’s door, cleared his throat.

I became aware of my surroundings in time to see two guys standing in front of the door. Then I heard movement behind me and didn’t need to look to know that the second pair, in the tactical team, had moved into position to block my retreat. I felt my pulse slow down. My training overcoming the fight or flight instinct. If there was one thing that I’d excelled at during my time in the service it was having a cool head under pressure and making sound tactical decisions. By the time I got to within arm’s reach of the pair by Kristina’s door I’d planed out my first two moves.

“Kristina Curtis,” the taller of the two greeted me and flashed an ID. “I’m agent Hopper, with NWRDC Security. Per your contract we need to ask you to come into the office.”

“I don’t understand, what’s this about?”

The shorter guy, a blonde, moved forward with a friendly smile. “Just a routine poly. There was an incident in your section a couple of days ago and everyone has to get screened.”

“But I’m on vaca . . . er . . . holiday. Can’t this wait until I get back?”

The larger man shook his head and moved forward as if to grab my arm and then stopped just short.

“I’m afraid not. According to your contract you’re obligated to come in for the screening. Failure to do so is grounds for automatic termination and possible criminal charges.”

I took a half step back not wanting him in my personal space, my mind racing. I was sure that Kristina didn’t want to lose her job, had she known about the ‘incident,’ whatever that was? My cynical side said, ‘yeah, she probably caused it.’

“Let me go in and drop off my groceries and then I’m all yours.”

I flashed the agents Kristina’s best smile wanting to have nothing to do with them. They stepped to one side, obviously, intending to follow me into the flat. I opened the door and left it open on purpose. Just as I thought, they followed me in and I felt a sense of violation.

“Why don’t you just come on in and make yourselves at home?” I said sarcastically. “Oh, wait, because I didn’t invite you in.”

This flat, as small as it was, had been my refuge for the last few days, these strangers felt like they were violating my personal space. I crushed these feelings as unproductive and hurried to the kitchen to put my food away. The blonde agent who’d failed to introduce himself followed me stopping in the living room.

I noted that he held himself in an alert posture but was too close to the coffee table. It would restrict his movement and give me an advantage. He was trained, that was obvious, but not to my level. Or to Mr. Black’s for that matter. Then for a moment I wished that Mr. Black were here. Between the two of us I was betting we could take out all four of these guys. ‘Well, if wishes were fishes every Friday would be a fish fry.’ I thought, and having finished in the kitchen returned to the living room.

“Shall I follow you in my car?”

“That won’t be necessary, we can give you a lift.” His smile was still charming but for some reason it made my skin crawl.

It was a thirty minute drive into the country to get to the New World Research and Development Corporation facility. The south side of the grounds had a tall hedgerow that prevented me from getting a good look at the building from the main road. We turned onto the drive that led up the compound and I spotted a gate barring the drive. Next to the gate was a small building with a board looking guard. I was sitting in the back of the black SUV with an agent sitting next to me. Agent Hopper was driving and blondie sitting shotgun. The fourth agent was trailing us in a second SUV.

Hopper rolled down his window and passed the guard a plastic card. The guard scanned it looked at the readout on the scanner and then handed Hopper his card back.

“Have a good afternoon, sir.”

The metal arm lifted and I saw that it was a straight drive up to a parking lot next to a large modern looking five story office building. I was a little surprised, the level of security was tight, yet the drive didn’t have any S-turns to slow down an assault force. There weren’t any additional barriers beyond the single metal arm. It was almost like the security was more for show and that whoever was in charge of this place wasn’t really worried.

My group didn’t waste any time hustling me into the building. We passed through a set of metal detectors and paused at the main desk. A brunette with her hair put up in a tight professional bun gave me a once over.

“Name?”

“Kristina Curtiss.”

She seemed to be looking at something behind her desk and then glanced up at me and nodded to a small oval pad, lit from behind by a red light. When I didn’t do anything she snapped, “Finger,” holding up her index finger.

I moved to the pad while my escort waited impatiently. I placed my right index finger on the pad and there was a click and the light under the screen turned green. The woman still looking bored handed me a badge with a clip on it. The badge had a picture of Kristina and it was obvious that I was supposed to clip it to my shirt. The picture was one of Kristina, looking professional, in a smart black business suit.

Then I heard, “Michael Hopper,” and when I glanced back Agent Hopper was already lifting a finger from the pad and collecting his badge. ‘Interesting, even the goon squad has to go through security,’ I thought.

“Brock Christenson,” the blonde agent who’d kept his name to himself said. I filed that away for later use.

My other two escorts stayed outside the check point so I felt a little better, my odds had just doubled. A pair of thick glass doors swung open as we approached and I was guessing the woman behind the counter had pushed some kind of button. Beyond the security check point was a lobby dominated by marble floors and white stone walls. Whoever funded these guys, they had money to spare. Then we approached a set of elevators. To my surprise Hopper pressed the down button.

I’d been expecting to go up to some office area and face whatever passed for a screening for these guys. Going down, my heart started to race. Perhaps it’s just too many movies, or perhaps it’s a part of the human psych but nothing good happens underground. That’s where the cells are, where the torcher chamber is located, and where one buries the bodies. I stepped into the elevator and for a second had trouble breathing. ‘Shit, shit, shit, shit,’ and then my colder more logical self-kicked in, and I started taking deep breaths. ‘You haven’t done anything wrong. You don’t know anything about this place, just take in easy.’ I thought.

I saw that tall, dark, and grumpy had to run his badge through a slot and then a whole new set of numbers lit up on the control panel. Evidently the floors you could access were coded to your badge. Hopper touched the digital screen marked B2 and we started moving down. ‘Curious, they aren’t worried about an external assault, but they are very concerned about their own employees and restricting what they can access.’ I thought. I didn’t know what it meant but I was sure it was important. The elevator was one of those new types, very smooth and vary fast. Before I knew it the doors slid open with a hiss and I was looking at a brightly lit, if sterile, corridor.

“This way, Miss Curtis,” the blonde, agent Christenson said reaching up to grab my elbow. I didn’t move. Instead I looked down pointedly at his hand and then into his face.

“Excuse me?”

He dropped his hand and gave me a bright, creepy, grin. A grin that made me worried that he’d enjoyed touching me way too much! Hopper looked between us and scowled, “Follow me, please.”

With that he led the way down the corridor. We passed several doors before we came to a set of double glass doors. They opened onto what looked like a waiting area you might have seen in a doctor’s office. The only thing missing was the receptionist.

Hopper looked at me, “If you’d take a seat, I’ll let Dr. Grossman know that you’re here.”

I went to a chair and sat down. I saw a magazine in the chair next to me on hunting. When I was a boy my dad had taught me to hunt and even though I didn’t get to go every year I still liked to keep up on it. I picked up the magazine and started thumbing through it. I sensed more than saw Agent Christenson watching me. ‘Crap!’ I thought, and put the magazine down. ‘Most girls aren’t into hunting.’

“You’re very pretty, you know.”

The comment came out of the blue and for a second I didn’t know how to handle it. It sort of knocked me off balance. I was used to being male, being the aggressor, being the person to make contact, to take control of the conversation and the situation. Now I found myself in a new role, that of the pursued, and I didn’t know how to respond.

“Uhm, thanks, I guess.”

“This won’t take very long. I can ask to drive you home, if you want to, maybe, get a pint?”

Just then the door opened and a short, fat, dishwater blonde woman, with coke-bottle glasses looked at us, “Miss. Curtis, please, come with me.”

I stood up and looked down at Agent Christenson, relishing the fact that even as a woman I was taller than he was, “Not if you were the last bloke on the planet.”

Then I turned and walked toward the doctor making sure to exaggerate the movement of my hips. Just before I reached the doctor I glanced back over my shoulder. Brock’s face was a bright red so I knew that my refusal had stung. ‘Well, he shouldn’t be such a creep!’ I thought, in satisfaction.

“I’m doctor Grossman,” she said, extending a hand.

I took it feeling a little nervous. “Uhm, Doc, I’ve got to say, I don’t really understand what’s going on.”

The doctor gave me a scowl, “No one told you?” Then she sighed, “There was a break in, in the mystical runes and incantations section. We’re calling everyone in for a quick scan. This won’t hurt a bit.”

‘Mystical runes and incantations? Kristina said she was a graphic artist!?’ I thought and then the operator in me spoke up, ‘She obviously lied.’ I wanted to pull my hair and scream. If Kristina was lying to me and had broken the law then I’d completely misread her. Usually my instincts on people are spot on, but I’ve known for a long time I’ve got a blind spot when it comes to women. I always assume the best and am often surprised when they turn out to be just as petty and vicious as men.

Dr. Grossman turned out to be a pleasant woman and talked me through the procedure. I was led to a small room with a chair that reclined as soon as I sat down. I was instructed to hold a pair of crystals while a couple of sensors were attached to my forehead, arms, and chest just above my collar bone.

“Alright, now I’m going to step out of the room. I want you to close your eyes and just relax. I’ll ask you a series of questions over the speaker system. Don’t bother answering. The purpose is to cause you to think about the question. The power of the crystals will allow me to ‘see’ what you’re thinking about.”

“I see,” I said feeling truly scared for the first time that day. “What are the sensors for?”

“To measure your stress. We don’t want you freaking out on us.” Then she patted my hand and left the room.

I focused on breathing, deep even breaths. I’d learned a technique while with the teams to control my breathing, pulse, and blood pressure and I focused on that now.

“What is your name?”

I drew up the image of Kristina Curtis that I’d become familiar with over the past few days.

“Where were you last night and the night before last?”

I thought about Kristina’s apartment.

“What do you know about the break in, in the mystical runes and incantations research section?”

I didn’t know anything so I let my mind go blank.

“What do you know about Jason Drake?”

My mind went blank. I had no idea who they were talking about.

“What do you know about Douglas Stonewall?”

This time I had the image from the company webpage along with the vague sense that he was my boss.

“Have you ever stolen anything from the New World Research and Development Corporation?”

Again my mind was blank.

“What do you know about the Syndicate?”

More blanks from me.

I’m not sure how long this went on but suddenly the lights in the room turned up and I sat up blinking. Dr. Grossman was there smiling, “We’re all done, dear. See, that wasn’t so bad.”

The ride back to Kristina’s flat was anti-climactic. As it turned out neither Agent Hopper nor Agent Christenson were waiting for me. Instead, I got a pimply faced, tall, geeky male intern still enrolled at the university. I could tell he wanted to ask me what I did for the corporation but I didn’t have the energy to talk so I ignored him until he stopped trying to talk to me.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that the screening that I’d just gone through was the reason that Kristina had wanted to swap bodies. She obviously knew things she hadn’t told me, things that would have flagged her during the interview. She might, even have had something to do with the ‘incident’ whatever that was, in the mystical runes and incantations research section. A part of me wanted to laugh that they even had a research section called, ‘mystical runes and incantations’. But one look down at my tits was all I needed to do, to know that it was no laughing matter! Then there was the fact that she’d been lying to me.

What could I believe? She’d said she was a graphic artist and specialized in 3D imagery. Yet, she was working in the mystical runes and incantations research section. I felt like I’d been betrayed by the person I had been starting to like.