CHAPTER 27 - Organized crime in America takes in over forty billion dollars a year. One of the reasons is it spends very little on office supplies.

There was a collective gasp from George and Ellen. George was the first to speak, "I can’t imagine that they would be interested in a small fish like me."

Fred nodded in agreement. "Don’t underestimate their determination and thirst for vengeance. They want to make examples of you both.

"They have already managed to get to Mr. Brown, in a federal prison. He was knifed in the chow hall. He is alive and presently in the prison hospital wing. He will live but, for his own safety, he will serve the remainder of his sentence in solitary confinement. I suspect you are next on their hit list and that is why I am here."

George turned pale. "Oh my god, I’m a dead man! I spent a year on the run from the law. Now I have to run from the Mexican Mafia. I just can’t catch a break." He felt faint as the blood rushed from his head.

Fred stood and rushed to his side. With his arm around George's shoulders, he helped his pale, hermaphrodite client to the couch where he sat next to his wife. Ellen lovingly cradled her distraught husband in her arms.

Fred said, "Heather you have one thing going for you. Part of Leon’s plea deal was he wouldn’t let anyone know George was living as a woman. Leon’s lawyer recently died in a car accident so he won’t be talking. The Mexicans are looking for a man, not a woman. It is my recommendation that the more you look like a woman, the safer you will be."

Fred, stood in front of the weepy eyed couple and announced he had a plan. He would put them both in the witness protection program. He explained they would be moved to an undisclosed location and given new identities.

Ellen broke out in uncontrolled sobs. She had worked so hard to build her business that the thought of losing it was more than she could stand.

After her brief cry, she laid into Fred. "Now listen up Mr. government man. I have worked my ass off to build my company to the success it is today. There is no way I can just walk away from it. It represents the financial future for me and my family. If you relocate us that doesn’t help George’s predicament. Because of his physical changes, George cannot realistically go back to living as a man. For his safety, he would still have to live as a woman. From what you have said, the cartel is after George. That doesn’t mean I am in danger."

Fred was prepared for these objections. He had an alternative plan ready to go - Plan B if you will. He announced he had a possible alternative plan. Those on the couch looked at Fred with a glint of hope written across their faces.

He laid out his idea. "From what we know, the only information the cartel has on George is his name which they got from the court records. From that it is a simple matter to get your address. This is a bit unorthodox but could you two embrace the concept of George remaining a ghost, a non-entity so he simply never comes home. I won’t try and bamboozle you. This will not be easy and it will require sacrifice and dedication. Here is an option that I was reluctant to present. Assuming you two want to stay together. The logical solution would have Heather, a woman, live in the States on a permanent basis and the husband George simply never be heard from again.

"Whether Heather lives in your household Ellen is strictly up to you. I can set her up in a small studio apartment."

George spoke first, "God knows I won’t live away from my wife and baby, that’s a non-starter. Besides I’m a man. I don’t want to live out my life as a woman."

Fred jumped in with, "I thought you tried the sissy thing. How did it work out?"

Fred smirked and made an apocalyptic announcement in George's opinion. "It seems to me your choices are as follows. Life as a woman. At least you will be alive. Or spend your life being ridiculed as a person trapped half-way between male and female identities. Which could prove deadly and might raise questions about who the mysterious feminized man hanging around Ellen is."

Ellen took George’s hand and addressed him as sincerely as she could, "Whatever we decide honey, we will stay together forever. I wouldn’t mind if the outside world viewed you as Heather. As long as she was my husband in this house and the bedroom of course. Despite what the world thinks we will know the truth and our family can stay together. That is the only decision I will except."

Ellen tried to read his body language to see his reaction. She knew he still harbored dreams of returning to his manly form. This decision had to be his. As much as she liked to be in charge, she knew that she must let him decide this one. It would require some serious changes in their life styles and had the possibility of putting a strain on their relationship and their marriage. She could live with Heather as her spouse and be happy. But could he? It had the advantage of her keeping her business. The big question was could he give up his manhood permanently for her sake? If the situation was reversed, she wasn’t sure she could make that sacrifice. His decision will say a lot about his character and his love for her.

Without deciding George squeaked out, "How would this all work?"

Fred jumped to his feet, "Simple, it will take a week or so. I will produce all the documents you will need to live as Heather. A permanent resident card, a birth certificate, driver’s license, and a CPA license, and even a forged work history. The only question I have is what name to put on the documents. For security reasons, we can’t use Trousdale. I’m sure you understand."

George said, "Wait a minute, I haven’t said I would do it yet!"

Even though Ellen had intended to avoid taking part in the process, she played the ultimate female strategy: she started to cry.

A cowed George shrugged and surrendered. What man could really withstand a woman's tears? He managed to get out, "If Ellen thinks it is the best thing to do. It’s alright with me."

Not waiting for George to formally agree, Ellen plowed forward. She already had an idea about a last name and wanted to toss it out there for consideration. "My first thought would have Heather take my maiden name Newman. It is so apropos don’t you think?"

"I strongly recommend against that!" said Fred, jumping to his feet. "It would tie Heather to you and could be traceable."

Ellen thought for a minute then had an ‘a ha’ moment and spoke up again, "In that case, how about Love? Heather Love. I can’t think of anything better."

As there was no more discussion, the decision had been made. Fred left and promised to be back as soon as he could.

That night at bed time, Ellen toured the entire house and ensured everything was locked up for the night. She entered the bedroom and saw her husband hiding behind the drapes starring out the window and she asked, "Miss Love, what are you doing?"

"I’m checking to see if anyone’s watching the house."

He moved the crib and the baby’s nightlight back into their bedroom. He got into bed and pulled the covers over his head.

Neither of them slept much that night, the slightest noise woke them up.

On the way to work the next morning, a sleep deprived Ellen almost had an accident as she was preoccupied with checking her mirrors to see if they were being followed.

Pulling into her reserved parking spot, Ellen scanned the parking lot for strangers. She helped Heather out of the car and followed her husband into work. She noticed that his womanly illusion wasn’t perfect, but if you weren’t trying to spot the differences it was quite good. Now that her safety depended on it, she was determined to eradicate all those telltale masculine traits that might give him away.

That afternoon, Heather skipped the normal lunch routine. He instead took a cab back to his doctor's office. While talking to the doctor, he asked a medical question that had been bothering him for a very long time. "Doctor. can a brown eyed woman and a brown eyed man can make a blue-eyed baby?" The doctor smile and answered. "It is possible but not probable. You see, it would require both of the parents having a 'recessive' blue-eyed trait. If that were the case. There is a 1 in 4 chance that the child could be blue eyed." A relieved George left an hour later with a prescription for Xanax safely tucked in his purse right next to the pepper spray he had picked up.

Now that he had an additional incentive to appear as a woman, he concentrated on his every movement. Over time, his feminine comportment had improved. However, he would slip up every now and then. He kept it together for a couple days then, on Friday morning, he was having a really bad day. He tripped on a rug rushing to go pee and broke a heel and put a run in his hose. He couldn’t spend the day on one foot so he had to take time off to go buy another pair of shoes. He had learned to keep replacement stockings in his desk. Upon his return from his hurried shopping spree he realized he had made a mistake. His new shoes were killing him. If he had to guess they were causing blisters on his feet. He was in his office and could feel the tell-tale tightening in his chest, fear roiling in his stomach. He reached for his purse, grabbed the prescription bottle, tapped out a single white pill - downing it with a gulp of cold coffee. He stood, straightened his blouse, and buttoned up the accompanying jacket. As the pill started to take effect, he caught his reflection in the glass of his office door and a chill ran down his back. He thought ‘he could be looking at a secretary in any fashionable office’. A sense of calm ran through him. As an undercover man whose life depended on looking like a convincing woman on a day to day basis, he wasn’t happy with his appearance. It may have been the pills talking effect but for once he felt a momentary sense of pride in his current attractiveness. The moment passed and he got back to his books.

@ @ @ @

It took a bit longer than promised but, eventually, Fred came through for them and produced all the documents Heather required. As a celebration, Ellen took Heather out and bought her a new car so she could drive herself to work. It was the ultimate family car: a crimson-colored hybrid minivan with leather-trimmed seats, hands-free sliding door and liftgate. They had the dealer professionally install the baby car seat. Along with the car keys, Ellen handed him a gold credit card with a $10,000 limit under the name of Heather love.

From that day on, he drove himself to work dressed as feminine as possible, he wanted to make Ellen proud of him no matter what it did to his manly pride. Ellen had his work file changed to his new name and under his new social security number. She back dated everything and shredded his old documents. At home, she continued to select his daily ensemble. Under Ellen’s tutelage, he learned to do his own makeup; nothing too bold, but impressively feminine. He tried his best. He only wanted to make his wife happy. And of course, to keep the mob in the dark about Heather’s true identity.

He was making progress at doing his own makeup, though rather slowly. It became routine for him to do his own cosmetics and hair. Only on special occasions would Ellen step in and work her magic. His lingerie became more and more womanly every day. He never looked like a beauty queen but he was completely and convincingly tricked out as a stylish woman whenever he left the house, albeit a mousy one. He wasn’t crazy about going overboard with the feminine intricacies, he did them only in the hope his disguise was impenetrable.

Life was good. Things changed one Saturday morning. Ellen was in the den playing with the baby while he was cleaning the house wearing a pair of white shorts and a loose-fitting V-necked tee shirt because he considered them to be gender-neutral. What he missed was you could see the straps of his bra through the semi-sheer material of his shirt as well as the attractive lace pattern on the cups containing his modest breasts.

Heather heard a car pull up in their driveway. They were not expecting company so he put down his dusting cloth and headed to the front door to see who was there.

Just as he reached the arched entryway leading to the front door, the door came flying open and splintered wood from the doorjamb went flying everywhere. Two gorillas stood in the door blotting out the sun. They were dressed alike, in gray hoodies, blue jeans and wearing balaclavas pulled over their faces. The guy who was obviously the leader walked in about four steps and surveyed the room. Each intruder carried a menacingly large hand gun. Ellen was in the den, with Ariel held tightly to her chest.

Ellen with a trembling voice said, "What do you want? We don’t keep cash in the house. You can have my jewelry, just don’t hurt my daughter."

"Relax Mrs. Trousdale. No one needs to get hurt as long as you cooperate. We are here to find your husband George. The boss wants to have a conversation with him."