A sequel to The Bomber

 

Clarice and Elaine                         by: Janet Stickney                        JanetLynn17@Hotmail.com

 

As a member of the State Department's Joint Liaison Group, I had read about the exploits of Clarice during and after WWII, and was fascinated by her accomplishments and bravery. As a minor member of the group, I had a lot of time to read, and had researched her file many times. First crashing, then, afterwards, finding a way to Paris. Her working right in German HQ, passing information back was an almost inhuman feat of daring. Clarice was retired, her exact whereabouts a well kept secret even now. She was in her late seventies, deserved that right I guess, but her story haunted me. My name is Jeff Grant, I'm 23, a graduate of a big ten school, about average in looks, with brown hair, brown eyes, medium build, 5' 7" tall and I weigh 145. Average, but I also have a very deep secret. I like to dress up like a girl once in a while.

As a 'newbie' at State, I got all of the menial jobs, like running back and forth to the CIA, FBI, NSA, and so on. I even went to the Whitehouse once. I thought I was just a number, merely a cipher among the many people that worked there. I did my job to my best ability and plodded on, hoping for the best. One day Marilyn, the group secretary said I got a message to see the 'chief,' which meant the Secretary of State herself. I quickly made sure I looked presentable, then went to her office at the Whitehouse. She is a short woman, attractive in an older sort of way, and smart as hell. The rumor had it that she could talk a frog out of its skin if she had to, and by her accomplishments, those rumors might even be true.

I was ushered into her office, told to relax and sit down. Unable to relax, I was on the edge of my chair, with just her and I in the office. The walls, were done in a soft, off white wallpaper, with silk prints and flowers dominating the room, adding bright color to the room. Her desk was a deep cherry color. I was lost in the decor and almost missed what she said. "The reports I get say that you are a comer. Every single task you have been given has been done well, and on time, something we don't see much of Jeffrey." The only one that ever called me Jeffrey was my mother, so she shook me a bit by using it! "We might have a little job for you. Something special." She opened a file on her desk and read it a moment. "It says here that you have the ability to present yourself as a female with some degree of ability, is that right?" I didn't know whether to crawl under the chair or what! "We always do an in depth security run on all of our people Jeffrey. Surely you knew that we would find out about your...hobby?" My mouth was frozen and nothing came out as she went on. "No matter, I'll take your silence about it as a yes. I want you to go to this address and interview Clarice Barton. She has some information we want, and has offered to talk, especially after we told her about your interest in her work, specifically to you." She handed me the slip of paper and some money. "I'll expect to see you, personally, when you return Jeffrey." With that a man walked in and I was ushered out of her office. I was going to meet the legend!

Detroit isn't the gritty mill type town I thought it was. It had transformed itself into a huge metropolis now, the local paper telling of many new industries, many of them beyond the auto industry. The freeway took me north, into the heavily wooded northern portion of the state. Following very precise directions, I ended up in front of a huge mansion. I rang the bell and the iron gates opened to a long winding driveway. I quickly parked the car and walked to the front door, which opened just as I stepped onto the porch, a well dressed woman with hair as white as fresh snow stood there. She was smiling, her gentle face exposing no trace of her past. She wore a navy blue dress with pearls and just a trace of makeup. "Come in Jeffrey, I've been expecting you." I stepped into the house and into the past, meeting a true legend and hero of mine with just one step. The foyer, as big as it was, was dominated by a wide, winding staircase. "Come in here Jeffrey, we'll have some tea." Her voice was soft, like the purr of a kitten, yet I felt, rather than heard, the muted roar of her past, and knew she had huge fangs. "Maddy tells me you have been researching my exploits. Am I that compelling to you?" "Quite frankly, yes Ma'am, you are. With the information that you gave Patton he was able to break through the German lines and liberate an entire army. I am certainly impressed by that alone, especially given the circumstances." She sat quietly as I talked, relating what I knew, and how impressed I was. "Is it because I started life as a boy like you?" "Partly. Yes. But bravery comes in all forms and knows no color or gender Ma'am." "That is very true Jeffrey. We all do what we must as the situation dictates." Then she told me to start taking notes.

"During the war we had a leak, a minor one we thought at the time. We knew, or thought we knew, who it was, but we could never prove it and Henri made the decision that this man would be allowed to continue living as before. That was a mistake dear. After the war this same man joined the new post war government on the strength of his work in the Resistance. Because there had been no reprisals for his alleged treachery, he was immediately accepted into the new government that DeGaulle formed. Keep in mind that right after the war France had no real governmental structure, since most of it had been dismantled by the Germans and the Vichy government. Of course the buildings that needed to be rebuilt required someone to over see it as well. The time was ripe for many forms of treason back then. Our man kept a low profile and slowly began to move up. Since DeGaulle had to virtually rebuild the government from the ground up, he needed every man, and had to trust them. Our man used this time to build his network, growing more important the whole time. He now holds one of three major posts in the French government. His name is not well known, and he usually manages to keep his name out of the papers, but it is this man who makes the actual decisions about arms sales and exports. Alain DeBurrey is his name. From the end of the war, during the fighting in Palestine, DeBurrey had contact with many of the future leaders of the new state of Israel, usually through their group known as Irgun. At the same time he was selling arms to many of the Arab states as well, making contacts that would serve him well over the years. His taking of bribes started then. In fact, his first Mistress was a woman given to him by Iran as a bonus.

Over the years France has repeatedly violated the International arms embargoes placed on countries the United Nations has sanctioned. Africa, especially the Congolese, benefited, but there are many other cases on record. Their biggest failure of course was in Vietnam. Due to his greed, he sold arms to both sides, and the French were overthrown. Dien Ben Phu is still using French as a secondary language, even after their ouster in '53. Currently, France continues to export arms to sanctioned governments. The arms range from standard military arms to chemical and some nuclear capable machinery and material. This is especially onerous in the case of Iraq, and a clear violation of the U.N. embargo. The French sell to anyone that has the money because if they don't, they think the Chinese will. This man behind it all is a snake that has managed to corrupt and overturn many well planned operations over the years. We had General Peron out of office until our boy secretly passed our plan to the Peron regime. Later, we had to kill Peron, using a third party, and chemicals of course, but that was not what we planned at all, and it took all of our patience to wait out his wife's reign equally corrupt regime. Fortunately she didn't have the smarts to really take over where he left off.

She had a sip of tea, then started again. "Our boy DeBurrey is almost eighty now, still refuses to cede his office to another, younger man, and still orchestrates France's arms sales to this day. I had contact with him quite often after the war, and later, when I was an Ambassador. In 1960 I think it was, he tried to get me to sleep with him! He was married at the time, had two Mistresses, and he wanted me as well! His real motive of course was to find out what the United States would do to stop the Russian incursion into the Balkans. I made a date with him, and told him that we would resist, with force, any move into Poland, Romania, or Albania. Sure enough, a week later the Russians moved their entire 3^rd army to cover their flank, needlessly expending millions of dollars in the process. That's when we found out he was selling out not only France, but the entire western alliance as well, all for money. Later, when Russia began to place missile's in Cuba, they used French workers, hired by him, on those ships. If Kennedy hadn't put up the blockade and forced the issue, Miami might be part of Russia right now, or a big hole in the ground. It was a tense time, and even though we knew about him, proof of his treachery was almost non existent, and what we did have was weak.

His only weak spot is his Grandson. He only had one child, Maria, who gave birth to a son named Alain, after his Grandfather, and Sanni, the name of his African father. Maria died of cancer about two years ago and the Grandfather sent the boy to Jamaica where he lives now. Maria's husband was killed during the fighting in Africa, so the boy is all alone now, but his Grandfather supports him well, and protects the boy by using guards. The Grandson will not be easy to get to. He has guards at all times, the house is wired and security cameras tape everything. Even though the boy often surrounds himself with beautiful women, he is actually Gay. We talked to a former lover of his and confirmed this. The boy is not stupid however, and all of his male lovers have been told to come and go dressed as women, or he meets them away from his villa. The only way to get to the Grandfather, and make him resign, is to expose the Grandson, and do it in a way that leaves the old man a graceful way out. The Grandson is, in the French tradition, slated to take a post in the same department that his Grandfather now heads, possibly the same job. That simply will not do at all. The entire family must be out of the government if we have any hope of stopping these small wars."

Clarice sat back and looked at me carefully. And then spoke again. "Maddy chose you well Jeffrey. I have read your file, I know all about Elaine. I have even seen the pictures. You do seem to present yourself as a woman very well. Better than most, but not quite good enough yet." Stupidly, I asked her what that meant. "Maddy will tell you everything you need to know dear." Then she reminded me that, Elaine was the name of the Lady of the Lake in the Arthur legend. "The Lady of the Lake gave Arthur the ability to conquer and make Camelot such a wonderful place. She is the one that blessed the sword Excaliber and gave him the strength to use it. Elaine is an appropriate name for you Jeffrey, you shall be the one to bless the sword of our vengeance and give it reason and honor." Then she showed me where to wash up, and as I did so, I wondered about what she had said. Why she mentioned my dressing up made no sense to me at all. At the time I didn't know how stupid that was. I took her to dinner that night, and found Clarice was still sharp as a tack and very funny. Her ability to tell raucous stories about the past belied her obvious age, as her memory was just fine thank you very much. "You stay the night Jeffrey, Maddy will be here in the morning to meet with you and I."

That night was spent in a very ornate room, all dark woods and thick plush carpets. In the closet were a pair of tan twill slacks and a light blue shirt. The bed was like an aphrodisiac for sleep and I quickly joined the land of Nod.

I wasn't surprised to find that the slacks and shirt fit me, and I presented myself at the breakfast table all shaved and combed. We ate slowly, savoring the thick slabs of bacon wrapped around the egg and soft cheese omelet. I heard a car drive up, and the Secretary of State walked in. She wore a pink suit with black heels and a pink and black pin on her lapel. "Well?" I poured her coffee, and since the question was not aimed at me, I tried to tune it out, and failed. The answer I heard hit me like a brick in the face. "Based on what I saw last night, the interview, and the file, I would say certainly." They both looked at me, and I felt myself shrinking. "Jeffrey dear, we have a special job for you." Clarice's voice had turned to honey again, but I knew that was merely a faade. Another voice took over; "We want you to get close to Alain Sanni and expose him Jeffrey." Her Eastern European inflection, not heard very often, tinted her voice and I understood immediately that this was something they took very seriously. I also knew in my heart that they wanted me to dress as Elaine in order to get close to this man. Both women looked at me as I started to comprehend what they were asking of me. I began grabbing at straws right away. "But my career! My family wouldn't understand! I. I'll get killed!" "Your career will, I guarantee, be rich and full Jeffrey. Your family doesn't have to know unless you, or we, tell them. They, like you, knew the risks when you joined us, and yes, you can do this. You can become Elaine, live full time, and never be discovered unless you let yourself be discovered. Clarice did it, and all without any high technology either. Think what we can do today!"

I was sure she could order me to do it, or, if I refused, I would have to resign, so why was she asking me? "I would never order anyone on the staff to do such a thing Jeffrey, but if you volunteer, we will support you all of the way, with the very best this country has to offer to make the transition easier and foolproof." It had always been a secret dream of mine, to become a female for at least a little while, so why was I so nervous about it? And how did they know so much about it? How did they know how I felt? The deep desires I had always held so close? I looked at Clarice and thought of what she had done, with a lot less, then at the Secretary of State, who had risen from a Swiss school as an orphan, to her current post. Both of these women were tough, smart, and never let the circumstances decide for them. I admired them both, for different reasons, and knew that I had to join their ranks just to have the opportunity to prove that I could be at least a footnote to their accomplishments. "Okay, I'll do it."

I was quickly whisked to the local airport and flown to an unknown destination. The next few days were whirlwind of examinations, from bodily to oral and mental. The doctor was a woman, about 40, with short spiky black hair and beady black eyes. Her name was Mary, no last name. She sat with me and told me exactly what she was going to do, when, how much it would hurt, what she expected when she was done, as well as what she expected of me. It all sounded so harsh when she said it like that, but nothing she told me was, in fact, new. Everyone of them was used every day in hospitals around the country. I had to sign a release, and that afternoon they started in on me. "Lasers work of course," she told me, "but the old fashioned Electrology is the best. This will hurt some, and you'll be in there four hours a day." The next day I was on my back as two women began removing my beard, one on each side. The only concession to the pain was when they did my upper lip. I was numbed up before they started. Each day after lunch, I was taken to the exercise room and did aerobics until dinner. I was on my own in the evenings, in my suite, swollen face and all. Television, radio, a computer, and so on were available, but the time seemed to drag. It took three weeks for my beard to be completely removed, and a few more days for the swelling to go down.

In the operating room they used Liposuction to sculpt my waist, using the cells to make my hips and butt rounder and fuller. I now had a trim tapering waist, but the downside was that from now on I would gain weight in my hips and butt, just like a natural woman would. A long term, slow release hormonal implant was put in my abdomen, "to enhance your feminine qualities" they said. The laser was used to remove all traces of body hair, and for two weeks I had small expandable balloons implanted in my chest that they used to stretch the skin so that when the real implants were put in they would look normal. I ended up a full 'B' cup thanks to the saline filled implants. My penis and testicles were moved to the inside of my body through a small incision just above my penis, and labial lips formed from the sac, creating a normal looking vagina, except that by pulling on a short string I could reveal my manhood. The string was made to simulate a tampon string, and pulling it to expose myself was a one time thing. I was in the hospital for three months before they sent me to another wing. To look at me I was a girl with a boys haircut gone from shaggy to bad. They gave me panties, a skirt and bra to wear with the blouse and loafers. My next session was on comportment, the instructor a man! He called himself Jeannie, and was certainly a caricature of what many people thought being Gay was all about. Jeannie was tall, rail thin, with a well trimmed Goatee, bald as a billiard ball, but all business and a very stern taskmaster. Under his tutelage I learned how to walk, sit, pose, use my hands and so on, until every movement was as natural to me as if I had been born a female.

Every male trait was eradicated under his stern gray eyes and my hard work. I walked in gym shoes, heels of all heights up to five inches, loafers, and even barefoot to master the art of walking. His regimen of practice was strict, but balanced, and often was nothing more than lighting a cigarette, or maybe sitting down. I was still doing aerobics each afternoon, content to do as they told me. Without warning, Mary came to get me and I was taken back into the operating room and my vocal chords were adjusted. I don't know how they did it, and it wasn't painful. I was mute for two days, then, when I heard my voice for the first time, I was totally shaken. I now had a very feminine voice! Mary came to get me, and I was taken to the salon where my shaggy hair was trimmed, dyed blond, and styled into a tapered Pageboy. Time after time they watched as I did my makeup, correcting me as I went. I was used to covering a beard, which I no longer had, and had to get used to the fact that I barely need foundation now. My nails had grown out, but they were thin, so they were covered with a layer of acrylic, filed to a rounded end, and painted a soft rose color. I now looked like the woman they wanted me to be. In my suite the closets had been filled with tailored clothes, all in my size. I was now down to 116 pounds, a size eight with a 36-24-36 figure. I dressed in a red and navy suit with a white silk blouse, black heels and red and navy earrings.

The dining room exploded in applause when I walked in, and I gave them all a bow. One table was set up for me, and on the plate was an envelope. Mary sat across from me watching as I opened it. Inside was an entire life history for me! As I read it I realized that much of it was true. My birthday, parents names, my brother and two sisters names, all of my schools were correct, and of course there was a valid drivers license, credit cards, passport, and so on. They had even included a high school and college diploma! "All we need to do is take your picture to validate the documents Elaine. We'll do that right after dinner, because you fly to Wyoming in the morning." I thanked everyone for their help, had my picture taken, and went back to my suite.

I wore the same navy suit on the flight, my luggage deep in the hold of the aircraft. It was my first time out of the facility, and certainly my first time as a complete woman. Nervous at first, I relaxed when I got nothing but admiring looks from the men and envious stares from the faces of some of the women. After we landed, I was driven by limousine to a small, expensive restaurant and shown to a table. Several of the men watched me as I walked to the table, and I knew that I had certainly passed every test they had used on me. Their leering eyes said it all. I was now virtually a woman, and I finally realized it! I saw the Secretary of State walk in, right behind the President! His phalanx of security spread out as he walked in. I saw his head of short cropped white hair and stood up when he approached the table. "Please, sit down" he said. "You look spectacular Elaine!" "Thank you Ma'am." The President ordered for all of us, and then asked me if I understood the operation. "Yes sir. Get close to Sanni, seduce him, and when the time is right, expose him." "This is a fluid operation Elaine" he said; "Do whatever you must to succeed. There will be no questions at all about how, or what you have to do, except how you want to finish this. Only, and I repeat only, as a last resort, are you to kill him. If his Grandfather retires, he will be the logical one to fill his place in the government. Originally the plan was to dispense with the entire family. Now we think that if he takes his Grandfathers place, and knows about the evidence we hope you can get, we can manipulate him easier. That will give us an enormous input on what the French sell to Africa, Iraq and others. Since we are trying very hard to avoid another war with Iraq, putting a stop to the flow of technicians and material from France, from the inside, will cripple Saddam Hussein and his ability to start another war, which might just include Israel this time." "I understand sir. I'll do my best." "I know you will Elaine." Then Madam Secretary gave me a packet. "Read all of this and then burn it." I put the envelope in my purse.

On the flight to Jamaica, I read in the paper that the President and Secretary of State had just returned from a visit to our Canadian neighbors, a goodwill visit. Funny thing though, I was with them in Wyoming at the same time they were in Canada. My plane landed and I was taken to my rented villa, which was close to Sanni's house. The weather was warm, so I changed into a bikini top and hot pants, then rode the bike around the shoreline and saw his villa for the first time. I waved at the guards and kept going. I did the same thing in the morning, catching sight of the target for the first time. He looked at me and I waved, making sure my breasts, which were barely held in, were on full display. That night I changed into the red dress. Low cut, no back to speak of, short, and skin tight, it was a true vixen type dress, and unless he was dead, he would notice me, even if he was Gay. I went directly to his favorite hangout and found a table. Twenty minutes later he came in, his guards in tow. He sat while they stood, unobtrusively near the walls. His eyes met mine and I gave him a smile and went back to reading the menu. Being coy is a pain in the ass, but.

He took the bait and sauntered over to my table. "It is you I saw this morning Cheri?" He spoke in French accented English, and I answered him in perfect French, one of my majors in college. "I moved in down the street from you yesterday. My name is Elaine Grant." I stuck out my hand, and he kissed it. "I am dining alone, would you join me?" I did, and he instantly turned on the charm. He might be Gay, but it was hard to miss when his eyes would occasionally settle on my boobs, then light up a little. Over dinner he invited me to his place for a drink, which I quickly accepted. His villa was huge, twice the size of mine at least. We sat on the balcony, looking out on the warm Caribbean water, watching the flying fish, drinking our margarita's. His hand touched my leg and I ignored it. Then he did it again. "We have just met sir! I'm not that kind of girl!" He apologized, then invited me on his boat the next day. "I am at fault Cheri. Let me make it up to you." I pouted a bit, then accepted. of course. His driver took me home.

Once I was secure in my bedroom, I used the secure digital cell phone to report and went to bed. I knew that almost certainly he was busy checking me out, to see if I was a plant. All he would find is what we wanted him to find. I was 23, single after a bitter divorce, with a huge settlement, and. a male. That item was buried deep in a file we knew he and his Grandfather could access. He had seen me up close, knew I sounded, acted and looked like a female. Yet, I was supposedly a male, and hence, I would be able to satisfy him. It was a dangerous ploy, but nobody could find any other way to induce him to find a reason to be with me. In the morning I changed to the pink bikini, slipped on my sandals, shorts, and a top, and walked to the pier. He was waiting for me, a broad smile on his face. He certainly looked like he had found the tidbit we planted. The man running the boat looked like he had stepped out of an old pirate movie. He even looked the part, complete right down to the patch over one eye, but the other eye scanned my body, sending chills down my back! Sanni and I fished for a while, with my strike the only one of the morning, so he had us set ashore on a small island, bringing a picnic basket with him. We sat in the shade and ate, then he made his move, and I let him. I wasn't Gay, but looked like a woman, so I let him kiss me. His hand found my left breast and as his fingers manipulated my nipple I felt it rising, and getting hard under his hand. He pulled me forward and with a single pull, he untied my top, and as it fell away, my breasts stood out pert and firm. "You are truly a magnificent woman Elaine Grant!" I stood up and pulled the bottoms down and stood there naked, letting him feast his eyes on me, knowing he wanted to see something else. He did not say a word, but his eyes betrayed him.

Sanni was tall, built like an African. Almost thin, he had a mixture of the Gaullic face, long and thin, with a slightly wider nose and fuller lips. Not handsome in the classic sense, but masculine, and still very nice looking. My task did not include liking him, only seducing him, in a way that would let us compromise him. I looked, and he wasn't hard, so I felt sure that he was Gay. I reached out to touch him, and he only smiled. "Are you shy sir?" "Not at all my dear." He undressed, and we were both naked now, and I knew that the only thing that would save me now was the string hanging out of my vagina, which he saw. He kissed me all over, blowing in my ears, caressing me all over until he lay down and motioned for me to do the same to him. I got on my knees and let my boobs hang in his face as my hand found him. He was gaining hardness, closing his eyes as I manipulated him. I had never done what I was about to do, but I touched my lips to his member, then took him all at once. With my hand on his sac, my lips held him secure, and drove him crazy. He erupted, filling me, and I had no choice but to swallow. It was not as bad as I thought it would be.

I saw him every day for an entire week, then he told me his Grandfather was coming for a visit, and asked me to be his hostess for the time he was there. I agreed. His Grandfather arrived by limousine, greeted by his Grandson while I stood back a little. He was tall like many Frenchmen, regal in bearing though a bit stooped. He had deep blue eyes, white hair brushed back, a smile to melt ice. His huge hands enveloped mine as we introduced, but his eyes took in my body, like a starving man looking at a steak. I wore the soft Royal blue silk sheath and white sandals, my breasts on display in the way the dress was cut, the slit in the dress revealing my smooth, well tanned legs when I walked. The old man had his arm was around me as we all walked through the wide double doors, his fingers playing at the edge of my bra, almost touching my breast. He went to his room to freshen up, returning in a sport shirt and shorts. The men went out on the balcony, and when I tried to join them Sanni asked me to stay. "It is private Cheri."

I tended to the kitchen staff, and later, sat between the two of them at dinner. Alain senior was, as Clarice had told me, a randy old fart; his hand found, then rested on my leg, playing at the slit in my dress as he touched my leg almost to my panties. Junior was busy fondling my other leg. I wanted to laugh at the thought of the two of them, both after me, but managed to hold off. We were all on the veranda having a drink when the old man looked at Sanni. "If you will excuse me my dear, I have some calls to make." "Of course." Sanni left us alone, and the old man moved to sit next to me. His eyes now sent shivers up my back; the look of a big cat on the hunt permeated his face. "My Grandson is...does not like women my dear, but then you are not a woman are you?" They bought it! "How dare you sir! Alain has seen me naked sir, he will tell you I am a woman!" "Non my dear. Clever as you are, as beautiful as you are, I can find out things, and I know you are not a woman." I let it rest a moment, wondering where he was taking this. Then, coyly, I said, "And?" "My Grandson will take my place some day, soon perhaps. He must have a wife to be accepted into the brethren. Being a male, and yet, at the same time, be such a beautiful woman, you have the ability to both satisfy my Grandson, and provide him with a provenance. My name and your looks will allow him to succeed me, if. you are his wife." I was shocked of course, this was not in the plan at all! "I will tell you tomorrow sir, if that is okay." "It is." He was still watching, grinning, as I left for home.

Early in the morning I was connected to a conference call to both the President and the Secretary of State. I told them of the developments, and wanted some direction. "Marry him of course dear! As his wife you will have access to everything!" The President added, "It's your decision of course, but you would be able to help us enormously." I hung up, scared to say yes, and yet, knew that I really had no choice, since this would be the intelligence coup of the century. I walked to Sanni's villa the next day, wearing the blue hot pants and bikini top. What I wore was very important because the old man would, had to, see just how much I looked like a woman, while at the same time knowing I was male. He would know first hand that without a doubt, I could 'fit in' with the elite of the brethren he mentioned, and the society of the French government.

I told him that I would marry Alain, and invited him back to my villa. "I know that you are curious how I do it. Come with me and I will show you how, and maybe more." He loved women, and his eyes told him I was a woman no matter what else he knew, and he quickly agreed. It was just noon when we stepped inside to the cooler air. He stood and looked around for a moment, then his eyes caught mine. I wagged a finger and went up the stairs ahead of him, my ass swaying in his face as he followed me. The hot pants were tight, even for me, and it was clear that I wore no panties, which he could clearly see for himself. I stepped into my bedroom and he made his move, but I backed away and began to sway back and forth slowly to the soft strains of the islands music. My hand found the string to my top and I pulled it, letting it drop to the floor, my breasts moving unrestrained as I danced for him, just out of reach. Unbuttoning my pants, I slipped them down, wearing only my shoes, and a smile, I moved closer to him. He was hard, obvious by the way his pants tented out, and I teased him with a gentle touch. "You look like a woman Elaine, a very sexy desirable woman." "I know. I am a sexy desirable woman. Come, I will prove it to you."

He quickly undressed as I watched from the bed. He was eighty or so, yet he remained strong and ready. He pushed me on my back and kissed my boobs as his hand found my vagina, then in a flash I flipped him on his back and stood on my knees over him. My hand found him and I began to stroke him. "Lick me!" I gasped, and his tongue went straight for my slit. I reached down, pulled the string, and out popped my penis, just millimeters from his lips. My hand, on the bed post, had clicked the button, and I now had him on film, ready to suck off a man! "That is a very good trick Cheri. A man that looks like a woman." He chuckled as he pushed me down, so I could take care of him, and I did, just like he expected me to. Later, after we took a shower together, I changed into a skirt and blouse, no longer able to hide my maleness quite so easily.

Alain Sanni and I were married in a Jamaican church two days later. I told him that I had to clear up a few things at home, sell the car and so on, and would meet him in Paris a month later. I packed my things and flew to Miami, then on to Washington. In the Secretary's office, I handed her the tape which we both watched on her television. "We finally have him Elaine, and all thanks to your efforts." She gave me a hug and then outlined what they expected to happen. "You will be cropped out of the tape of course, but he will certainly know it is you, which makes you expendable to him. Your marriage is invalid of course, but if you want to continue the operation, Mary sent this for you." She handed me a small parcel, and then told me who to see, who to call in case of emergency, and gave me a password to get into the American Embassy in a crisis. "You gave them a month, so we will see that Alain senior sees the tape and is taken care of by then. After that, it's up to you." I left her office and caught a plane to Detroit, rented a car and drove north to see Clarice again.

She didn't bat an eye when she saw me, rather, she greeted me like a daughter. "You are every bit as lovely as I knew you would be Elaine!" We sat in the parlor and I told her everything, including what I had done, and how I felt. "I always thought I was attracted to girls Clarice, but that old man had a charisma that drew me to him! I wanted to be with him and I was. He liked it, and I liked it. So why do I feel." She took my hand in hers and kissed me on the cheek. "We, all of us, can be attracted to men, or women, on any given day Elaine, even so called straight people. We all carry the seeds of doubt within us, and it's how we use this seed of doubt that makes us what we are. Inside, deep down, in your secret place, you have always wondered about what it means to be a woman, and now you know. It is not about being male or female Elaine. It is about loving, caring for another more than yourself. In our case, it is our love for our country that lets us do these things. You are an intelligent, vibrant, woman now, so why fight it? Be the woman you always wondered about. Making love to a man is a part of being a woman Elaine. Loving another simply because you do, is no different, and cannot be helped. We fall in love when the lightning strikes and not before. Being a man because of a simple accident of birth is no reason to deny what you know is true, and right." I fell into her arms and cried a bit as what she had said settled on me.

Clarice had actually become another mother to me. She understood my feelings like no other person. We had a lot in common, and as she held me in her arms she shared her feelings about what she had done during her time in Paris, with an enemy. "I was a lot like you, merely a boy, still a virgin, and yet, after such a long time living as a woman it was natural for me to be close to that officer. At first I was ashamed, but then, not. It was simply something that happened. Later of course it was more, but being a woman called Clarice became my role in life and I accepted it. You cannot now go back to what you were before Elaine. You have discovered that being a woman is much more than you ever thought it was. You are now a male woman, my successor if you like, and you will have days that make you wonder why, but in the end, when you stand naked in front of the mirror, you will know why."

Refreshed and no longer at odds with myself, I said goodbye to Clarice and flew to Paris, landing the very day that Alain senior committed suicide. My husband was named to his post as expected, and we settled into an apartment near his office. Alain wasn't stupid, but he was not as quick as his Grandfather had been, and it was easy for me to sway him in the direction I wanted him to go in. During the rush after Alain seniors death, I found his diaries and payments books. There were five of them, going back to 1946, detailing payments made to him, the amount, who paid, and why. They were priceless, and I secreted them in my bag as Alain junior ran around stuffing trinkets into boxes. I sent them to the Embassy the next day. Money poured into our accounts, the bribes less and less discrete. The item that Mary sent me gave me the look of a female, even naked, yet could be removed at night when Alain wanted me. My wardrobe grew, names like Dior, Chanel, and Versace common in my closet. My hair was done once a week as were my nails. I joined an aerobics class to maintain my weight and figure, and let my husband bumble through his day, often pointing him to other opportunities. In order to make his work easier I remodeled a room into an office, set up a fax, copier, scanner, computer, and so on, then, each night I would collate his files for him, scanning and sending each one via the computer to a number I was given. I had no knowledge of who got it, or what happened to the information, but I began to see a pattern of disruption to the French plans on television. Failed raids, arms confiscated, ships sinking and so on. I also started to transfer money to an account I had opened in Switzerland, just in case.

Seventeen months after my arrival in Paris we were invited to a party at the Iraqi Embassy. I wore a beaded emerald green sheath, low cut in the front with a sheer covering over my breasts and arms. I spent three hours in the salon having my makeup, nails and hair done for the party. It was rumored that Saddam Hussein would be there, and I wanted to see him, and have him notice me. Notorious for his philandering, Hussein would certainly try his charm on me, and I wanted to have the pleasure of saying no. Alain wore his tuxedo of course, getting ready in less than 30 minutes. How I remember that pleasure!

The embassy was tightly guarded with a ring of security inside the gates, one man every two paces, all armed with machine pistols, mace and grenades. We were escorted inside and allowed to wander the first floor freely. I snatched a drink from a waiter and stood watching the games being played. Politics hung in the air almost as thick as the smoke. Russians vied with the British for attention, the Bulgarians with the French for money, the Polish with the Arabs and Chinese for arms. I was lost in thought until someone tapped my shoulder. Turning, I saw it was the Iraqi Ambassador. Very elegant in his uniform and snow white hair, the Ambassador spoke perfect English and French. He spoke to me in English. "May I speak to you…privately?" I let him lead me to a small antechamber, watching as he closed the door. Quite tall, he was handsome and well spoken, yet there was an oily slickness to him. Prior to Desert Storm he had spoken on GNN, telling the world that the troop movements in the southern desert were merely war games. Four days later the Iraqi army invaded Kuwait. President Bush reacted swiftly, and pushed them back inside their own borders and instituted the sanctions. This same man was now standing in front of me. Powerful, willing to do anything, I was wary, on the alert. "You are the one who has the most influence on your husband Madame. We need many things in our country; medicine, food, clothing, and yet no matter how much your husband tries, these goods never seem to reach us." And I knew why of course. The United States Navy was sinking, raiding, or stopping the ships. "Can you help us?" "But I'm only his wife sir, how can I help you?" His soft smile showed his perfectly straight white teeth. I knew that my feint as a helpless wife did not faze or confuse him at all. "May I be blunt?" "Of course." "Your husband, no matter how hard he tries, is not his Grandfather Madame. Through diligent effort, we have discovered that you are the real power behind the throne so to speak. You are not the pretty ingenue you portray yourself as. A college education from a prestigious university, a degree in Finance and languages. No. You are the real power, and it is to you that I speak. We need those items now sitting on your docks. What will it take to make sure we get them?" I said nothing, letting the offer he had in his own mind rise to unspeakable levels. "I offer five million US dollars Madame" The bribe was naked in it's audacity, the money a ludicrous amount, yet nothing to this regime.

Playing for time, I sipped my drink and let him watch me. If I was careful this could be exactly what we needed. "I will assure you here and now that medicine, clothing and food will not be held back, and all of the items now on the dock labeled as such shall be in Baghdad in two weeks." His toothy white grin broke his face and we rejoined the party just as his boss walked in. I was introduced to him of course, endured his polite patter and leering eyes, then later, Alain and I went home. For the first time I actually wanted him, and my husband did his best duty that night. I had scored twice in one night. But which one was better?

I made a call the next morning, and two weeks later the ship arrived in Baghdad as promised. Inside the crates marked food, medicine and clothing, the arms and machinery had been replaced with the stated articles. I had immediately transferred the money to my account in Zurich, without telling Alain about the bribe, or its size. Four days after the ship docked, Alain was shot as he stepped out of his limousine, right in front of his office. The message they sent was very clear, and I knew that I was probably next on a very short list of people to be killed. The Iraqi Ambassador called to convey his regrets at the shooting, then told me how happy his people were to get the items we shipped. "But I guaranteed it sir, how could it be anything else?" His polite thanks aside, I knew he was angry, very angry, as well as a dangerous man.

Alain's boss, Henri Collet, who was second only to the Cabinet Minister himself, called and asked to meet with me. In his greed, Henri was first in line now that the senior Alain had died. Fat like a ball, Henri seemed to waddle when he walked, but his intellect was keen and not to be taken lightly. I did not like him personally, but because of his greed he was kept silent with cash payments and we were able to manipulate him. I asked him to call on me at three that afternoon, then I called for a 'special' team, who quickly arrived and wired the apartment for video and sound. Henri was a rascal to the core. His love of money and philandering was well known. In spite of his size, all of the wives of the members of his staff had been subject to his amorous attentions, including me. Sadly, some of the women succumbed to him because of his position and possible promotion for their husbands. He arrived right on time, and we sat in the chairs I had selected for the best camera view.

"I am heartbroken at Alain's death Elaine and I want you to know I am always available for you at any hour." He touched my hand, and it took all of my will power to not recoil, smiling back at him instead. "Thank you Henri, that's very gracious of you." He didn't hesitate, going straight to the real matter he was here to discuss. "The Iraqi's are very sorely mad lately. The crates we shipped, they had none of the things we sent. The Ambassador told me that you personally guaranteed shipment. The loss of that material, and some say, money, was a huge blow to some of our friends, and they want revenge. on you." "But why Henri? All I did was make sure the shipments went as scheduled!" "Yes, we know that, but someone tampered with the crates and switched the goods." "I know nothing about any of that Henri! I made a single phone call. That is all." My gambit did not phase him at all, and he gave me a smile. The Ambassador says they want their money back Elaine." "What money are you talking about? I have no money." "He gave you five million US dollars, all in cash he says, and he wants it back." If Henri knew the exact amount, he was in deeper than I thought. His ploy to get the money back was just that. A ploy. Even if I gave him the money, only half would be returned, Henri pocketing the rest, and I would still be shot. "If he paid someone in cash he should be shot for stupidity Henri and you know it." I was playing a very dangerous game now. Henri himself might shoot me just to get back in the good graces of the Iraqi's as well as half the money! "I have no money of his Henri, check my accounts!" I already did that Elaine." "He says he gave me that money, yet he has no proof that he gave me any money at all, let alone five million!" He knew better than to ask if he could look around. If I did have the money, it was safely in a bank somewhere, untraceable, and safe. "They are very insistent Elaine." Then he changed tack and told me that for my own safety he was revoking my privileges in France. "You have two weeks Elaine. If you are not gone by then you will be in jail." Abruptly he stood up, shook my hand, and left!

The movers came, packed my things, and I left France in less than a week, moving to our home in Zurich. All of the money in our joint accounts had also been transferred there, severing all of my ties with France. Selling our apartment in Paris took three days, netting me two million dollars. I had been in Zurich almost two months when I made a call and took a small vacation, returning to Zurich a month later. My home stood high on the hills surrounding the lake, the view of the small island and the water a calming influence. I had workmen make some changes to the house while I was gone, installing bulletproof glass, making my safety better. When Clarice took one of her very rare vacations, she called me, then joined me in Zurich. Over a light dinner two days after she arrived, she asked me straight out. "You have the money don't you?" "Of course! A girl has to have money to live doesn't she?" "Maddy told me the official view is that there never was any Iraqi money." She had a sip of tea, then, "She also said that according to Bill, the Iraqi's can whistle in the wind for it". "That means I don't have to turn it in?" "Turn in what? They can hardly deny the money exists, then demand to keep it, can they?" At age 26 I was instantly a multimillionaire! "Now all you have to do is live long enough to enjoy it." "True" I answered. The next night Clarice and I had a visitor.

The housekeeper was hesitant to let him in. He was very old, stooped and gray, wearing a somewhat worn coat, so I was surprised when Clarice greeted him like a long lost brother. "This is Gregori Rettinin, a very old friend." He was admitted of course, and I quickly set out a plate for him, which he cleaned almost at once. "A friend of a friend" he said, "told me that an assassination attempt is being made next week on our mutual enemy." His English was perfect, his voice strong and clear, a violation of my perception of him. "Hussein?" "Nyet! No. Henri Collet. They say his hand went too deep into the Iraqi pocket and they blame him for the loss of the money they claim they gave to you my dear." His eyes, beady and dark, looked directly at me. "I have a friend that might help you stay alive my dear. I hear that you are next." A cold wind blew down my back as he described in great detail what his friend suggested. He and Clarice stayed and talked about old times, drinking the entire bottle of wine, while I made a few calls.

The friend That Gregori mentioned was General Glen Baten. He was the commander of an elite, highly secret unit, along with a sergeant named Michael Verin. Three days later both men showed up at my door in civilian dress. Clarice and Gregori spent the time talking about the old days, as well as current issues. I was stunned at what they managed to know, or guess, based on such little information. I was supposedly on the inside and could not make the judgements they did. When the General and the sergeant arrived, Clarice, Gregori, Mike, the General and myself sat around my dining room table. "This is good information? Hussein and Aziz will be there?" Gregori pulled himself as upright as he could, and told Mike that he would never pass on bad information, which Clarice seconded. "I have known Gregori for 40 years, and in all of that time he has never made that mistake. Everything is checked twice. His word is as good as mine, maybe better!" Properly chastised, both the General and the sergeant sat quietly as Gregori went on. "He is going to be in Africa attending a celebration, and show support for Bani's regime. The French ship to Bani all of the time, so how hard would it be for them to transship what Iraq needs?" "That is an excellent point. We thought of it of course, but never found a way to do more than disrupt the shipments. This is very intriguing, and certainly a possibility." The General said nothing I noticed, preferring to let the sergeant do all the talking. Then he asked to speak to Gregori and Clarice alone. Mike and I went out on the veranda, closing the doors behind us.

"I hear that you almost brought down the French arms connection all alone." "Not hardly sergeant, a dent maybe, but not down." He was tall, well over six foot, with close cropped hair that was blond, green eyes, and a strong masculine build. The cleft in his chin, marked with a shaving nick, gave his crooked smile a bit more character. He had an easy way about himself. He was a man, a soldier that went in harms way, and he never thought about the danger. His actions, the way he walked, stood, and rested, told me he was limber, agile as only a true athlete or well trained soldier would be. I was attracted to him almost at once. His eyes told me that he felt the same about me.

When we were allowed to rejoin them, the General told Mike, "Three men, you make the selection. Four days, tops. One in, one kill, two out." Then, after a moment, he added, "It doesn't have to be clean." "Yes sir." The two of the huddled, then the General left with Gregori, while Mike stayed behind with Clarice and I. "Is there a hotel nearby?" "Yes of course, but why?" "My people will be here in a week. I'll need to stay and brief them when they get here." "Can he stay here Elaine?" "My very thought Clarice." I looked at him and felt a quiver, deep down, suppressed it, and told him, "I have eight bedrooms here Mike, please stay." He looked at Clarice who was smiling at him, then at me. "Of course. I'd like that." "Follow me Mike, I'll show you to your room." He went up the stairs like a gazelle, confirming my guess at his agility. I showed him to his room, the bath, then, wondered why I was so attracted to this man, in such a short time. After all, we had just met! I was close, just behind him as he examined the room, then, all at once he turned, faced me, took me by the shoulders, and kissed me. I did not struggle as his arms slipped around me and his tongue found mine, his hand firm on my back. "You are the most exciting woman I have ever seen, let alone meet Elaine." I was at a loss for words, shaken as he kissed me again. I broke away, my heart pounding, and left him to unpack.

Clarice was wagging her finger at me as I virtually floated down the stairs. "He's handsome, you're beautiful, and you both have the look." My quizzical look made her laugh a little, then expand on that statement a little. "Mutual lust dear." Her gentle laughter followed me into the kitchen. While we waited for his 'people' to arrive, Mike and I went out twice for dinner, kissed a few times, but nothing more. His team arrived the next day, and two days later, they were gone.

I don't know what I expected his team to be, but two women, one of them in the Navy, wasn't it! They arrived on schedule, all of them in mufti, and immediately went into a huddle in my dining room with Mike. Later that evening, after dinner, Mike gave us a rundown on each of them in clipped military terms. "This is Senior Chief Petty Officer Beth Hansen. Specialty, sniper. Her best shot was 3412 meters and has 23 confirmed kills in her book." Beth was tall, almost six foot, her ebony skin formed over the most beautiful face I had ever seen. "Next to her is Sergeant First Class Fred Swanson. Swanny is our explosives man and doubles as radioman." Fred was built close to the ground and had the look of a man that would not take a lot of flack from anyone, and based on the scars around his nose he was good at keeping the flack down. "This skinny thing is Lt. Carolyn Ruthson. She speaks nine languages, fluent in most. She is the single best tracker and camouflage expert I know." Carolyn had a trim figure, short blond hair and green eyes. Her smile alone would make many men fall in behind her like lemmings. "What about you Michael?" I noticed the way his team looked at me when I called him Michael, and put it out of my mind. I asked because other than his name, I knew very little about him. Carolyn spoke first. "Mike, well he's very special. Let's see. Enlisted right out of high school, took his BS degree from Notre Dame, sent to get his Masters degree at West Point, he is a graduate of the Senior Enlisted war college in Aberdeen, speaks five languages fluently, currently the second highest ranking NCO in the Army. A Senior Master Sergeant of the Army, with two stars. Effectively has the authority of a three star General. Specializes in planning and organization, both strategic and operational. Three Bronze stars, two purple hearts and numerous other medals. In other words, a pain in the ass!" All of them chuckled at his embarrassment. "I was lucky, and Carolyn exaggerates." All of his team were shaking their heads no.

The shot, taken at 1500 meters, was made by Beth Hansen of course. The primary target took the shot in the chest, the .57 caliber slug severing his head and upper torso from the rest of the body just above the heart. Blood spattered those in the VIP seats, people ran amok, and the military started shooting although no targets could be seen. Three seconds later, the secondary target took the shot in the head, which instantly vaporized, and his body simply tumbled off the stand. During the ensuing tumult, the squad of four slipped away unseen by anyone. Three days later they were back In Zurich.

Mike and his team arrived, again in mufti, and I secreted them in the house for three days. Beth and Carolyn borrowed my whirlpool and laundry, while Mike and I finalized our 'mutual lust' as Clarice called it. I had missed him when he was gone, more than I realized I would. I had never experienced this feeling before. He had created a presence in the house that left me in a vacuum when he went on the mission. As my thoughts of him grew in my mind, my realization that I missed him, his presence, grew. I walked into his room unannounced as he was pulling on his shirt. He said nothing, standing perfectly still as I closed the door, locked it, and walked to him. His hard, furry body excited me, and without a word, I let my hands slowly caress him. My hands went to work and I stripped away his clothes. The many scars from his previous battles, glared at me, deep purple and red. He wore them like small badges of honor. His hands touched me, caressed me, making me silent. He hugged me to him, then lay me down on the bed. In our mutual frenzy, he loved me like no man ever had. He was my very first. I was a virgin that night. He took it as I gave it, in love and tenderness. My surgery, done by Mary and her team while I was on vacation, was perfect. I accepted him into me, letting him indoctrinate me into womanhood, showing me the way a real man loves a real woman. After the third time, he said he was unable to go on, but he was wrong of course. Men usually are.

Clarice flew home with the team, minus Michael. He stayed behind with me. His easy and soft spoken manner always hid his inherent capacity for violence, lying just under the surface, yet he was always gentle with me. Maddy came to visit two weeks later, the President, his wife, and teenage daughter in tow. Maddy looked at me, saw Mike holding me, and knew. "You're retiring aren't you?" "For a while anyway. Mike needs me more than you do Ma'am, and I need him too." The President shook Mikes hand, congratulating him on taking out Bani and his second. "Without Bani, Hussein is back to trying to smuggle what he needs in coastal freighters. There's no press wondering if we assassinated anyone, no fingers pointing our way, a new government can be formed in Bani's country, which we are working on, and the U.N. can go about cutting off Hussein's war making ability. Hussein knows that he could have easily been the target, so not only did his African connection break, he'll spend a lot of scarce money to protect himself better. A very first class job Sergeant." "Thank you sir." "By the way, you're on extended temporary duty here in Zurich. Let me know when you're coming back...if Elaine will let you go!" Then they were gone, leaving me alone with Mike, and an over riding desire to jump his bones again, and I did. Again and again and again.

 

 

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