Tales from The F Files

by Jennifer White

 

"Agent Muller, Agent Scudder, you will be working together on this case" said FBI Region Field Office Assistant Supervisor Alan Feldman. The RFO-ASAF position was second only the actual head of the regional field office, and the job carried much weight with it. If the RFO-ASAF as giving the orders, this was an important case indeed.

Jake Muller was a twelve year veteran of the FBI. He had run many investigations, including several where strange occurrences were reported. His presence on this case meant that the higher up people in the organization believed that something far out of the ordinary was involved. He was dressed in a suit and tie, carried a briefcase, and looked like the average businessman.

Meanwhile, Claire Scudder was a vision of frail beauty. Her delicate red locks fell down around her soft face, while her thin body, with its narrow build, made her seem vulnerable. But that was what she wanted people to think about her, that she was just a weak helpless woman. She was actually held a pH. D, was a black belt in Tai Chi, and won the field office contest for shoot accuracy for six years running. She was a mix of beauty, intelligence, and hidden deadly force.

Jake knew of her reputation as the top marksman (or markswoman as she joked) in the field office. He also knew that she had a reputation for closing difficult cases. But he was leery about being teamed with a woman. Up to now in his career, all of his partners had been men. He was running a major investigation here, and he didn't have time to put up with a woman's whining, waiting for her to put on her makeup, or all the other weaknesses she would show. He was upset about being teamed with her, without them asking him first. It never dawned on him that she might have just the right skills needed for the case. He just didn't think that way.

RFO-ASAF Feldman handed Muller a thick file. The briefing was about to begin.

 

"There have been seven cases in the past seven months, of businessmen disappearing" he started. They all have taken place in and around the Southwest, in LA, Las Vegas, or Phoenix. We didn't become involved, until it was discovered that there was a pattern, and it crossed state lines."

"What is this pattern?" said Muller.

"The man goes on a trip to Vegas, and doesn't come home. No sign of him anywhere. No clues. Just gone."

"Wow" said Scudder.

"Yes" said Feldman, handing her a second thick file. "While you are in Las Vegas, there is also a second case which I would like for you to look into. I have received five reports in the past few months, of the sudden appearance of women working in Las Vegas. They are not illegal immigrants, they seem to have lived here all their lives. Yet we can find no trace of their pasts. Either they have false memories, or it is an organized deception."

"That's strange!" said Scudder. "And they are all women?"

"Yes. I want you two to interview all of them, and see if you can connect the dots between them. Also, work the disappearance case. We are low on budget these days, with so much resource being turned towards homeland security. So I am sorry, but you will need to work two cases simultaneously."

"No problem" said Muller. "I can handle it."

"*We* can handle it" corrected Scudder, wanting to make sure the boss knew it would be a team effort. Muller's face turned sour. He didn't like having this broad correct him in front of the boss. He would remember that. A mark against her. She was his junior, and she should know her place.

The two went home to pack for their trip.

* * *

 

In order not to arouse suspicion, agents are trained on how to blend in with the surroundings. Both Claire and Jake packed casual clothes, so they could go in and out of the casinos, hotels, restaurants and other sites without standing out in the crowd. While there were interviews to do, it was equally important to get some background on the situation before you jump in. Get to know the scene. Get to know the area. Get to know the locals. You don't want to be seen as an outsider, who knows nothing, who is coming in at the last minute.

And so the pair of agents spent the first day pretending to be tourists, going to museums, seeing shows, and walking around town. Nobody would have guessed that they were FBI. They were getting used to the pace of the city, the feel, the crowds, the people.

It wasn't until the second day, when they were ready, that they started with the interview process. First up was Paul Taylor. He had been a successful businessman, selling accounting and financial services for a living. He was from LA, but had been in Vegas for a sales conference. After the 3rd day, he stopped showing up to the sessions. On the 4th day, his coworkers checked his room, but he wasn't there.

A missing person's report was filed. The police found nothing. Surveillance tapes of the casinos were of no help, since he didn't gamble. Vanished, with no trace to be found. Now, months later, it seemed that the trail had gone cold, and even his family held out no hope.

Claire and Jake interviewed the maid who cleaned his room, the waiter who served his last known meal, the hotel manager and head of security. They interviewed the concierge, bell captain, and the front desk staff. They talked to bartenders, waitresses at the hotel restaurant, even the janitors. But it was all to no avail.

Claire downloaded the phone log from his cell phone and his room phone to her laptop. She made notes from the investigation in a database, whereas Jake was more old-fashioned, and wrote everything down on a legal pad. They had come up empty, so it was on to the next victim. Sometimes a pattern might appear in a related case, where none was apparent. But it took multiple interviews of the multiple cases, along with a lot of time, effort, and tenacity.

* * *

 

Jake insisted they work the disappearing businessmen's cases first, since they might be in danger if they were still alive. That made sense to Claire, so the went through the entire list. All the cases were as perplexing as the first. No luck at all. And so she requested that they take a break, and look at the other case. Sometimes you think too much on a single problem, you get stuck. But by looking at something else, sometimes you suddenly see something which hadn't been apparent before.

And so they went through the process of tracking down the women who seemed to have suddenly appeared, out of nowhere. A typical example was Wendy Maynard. She was working as a waitress at a bar on the strip. They tracked her down, and waited until her shift was over. They walked over to her, and asked her to come with them. The manager allowed them to conduct the interview in his office. He didn't want trouble from the FBI, so he was willing to cooperate, lest they call the IRS and the INS to investigate undocumented workers.

"So Wendy, how long have you been a waitress?"

"For as long as I can remember" she replied.

Wendy was a six foot blonde, and a real knockout. In a city full of women who underwent plastic surgery to make themselves look appealing, it was clear that this one was all natural. She didn't have any of the taught skin in the face, nor the hard as rocks breasts that were typical of women who underwent the knife.

"And where did you work before this place?" asked Claire.

"Oh, some other bar on the strip."

She couldn't remember any specifics, even after they probed her. No matter which techniques they used, they could only find vague generalizations about her. It was frustrating, and they made no more progress, so they let her leave.

 

"She's not telling us everything. She's hiding something from us" said Jake.

"I don't think so" replied Claire. "I think she is telling us the truth. I didn't sense any deception from her."

"What, so now you're a psychic, and you know what a suspect is thinking?"

"Suspect? What crime has she committed? And no, I'm not a psychic, but I think a woman can judge when another woman is being open to her."

"So your silly feminine emotions trump your training and pure logic?"

Claire was steaming inside. He was downplaying her abilities, because she was a woman! After this case was over, she would be sure to let her boss know that she needed a different partner. She couldn't work with someone was sexist as agent Muller.

* * *

 

They interviewed all the women on the list, and it was all the same. Beautiful woman, not the brightest, working in a menial job in the service industry, but not able to give any specifics of her past. One woman was not working, since she was pregnant, and she couldn't even tell them who the father was. This disgusted Muller, who thought of himself as a family man, and didn't look kindly upon those with alternative lifestyles, like unwed mothers.

Time and time again, he angered Claire with his comments and his put-downs of the women. Not to mention that sometimes he put *her* down as well. She ignored it as best she could, and focused on the difficult task before them. They had amassed piles of data, and now it was time to look for patterns or similarities.

Jake had his reading glasses on, and poured over his notes, using a red pen to underline certain words, circle phrases, and try to connect the dots. Meanwhile, Claire used a data mining tool and an advanced search engine to look through the data she had amassed. Her computer hummed as the data was consolidated, and the reports generated.

"Jake! Come look at this!" she said.

"What?" he replied disinterestedly, not bothering to look up from his notes. She probably found a sale at the shoe store or something silly like that.

"No, look at this. We need to check this out."

"What?" he replied.

"I just found a link between Paul Taylor and Wendy Maynard!"

"A link? What?"

"Look at the phone logs. Paul received a call from a number that Wendy called the day after she started her job. Whomever the number belongs to, knows both of them."

"So? Just a coincidence" he replied.

"I don't think so. I've found four other cases where a man who disappeared called the same number as a woman who appeared. Jake, the cases are linked."

One number was a coincidence. But you couldn't argue with *five* times it happened.

"So the cases are linked. What do we know?"

"We know a man calls a number, then disappears. Then soon after, a woman appears, who calls the same number."

"When did Paul disappear?"

"June 12th."

"When did Wendy appear?"

"June 14th."

"And the others?"

"The same. One to three days after the man disappears, the woman first shows up."

"So....." said Jake.

"So, look at the facts. A great detective once said that if you eliminate the impossible, whatever possibility remains, no matter how unlikely, must be the truth."

Jake nodded. Standard academy training.

"I think that something happened to Paul, and he has been transformed. I think that Wendy is really Paul."

 

"Don't be silly" said Jake, shaking his head. "You're forgetting the one waitress who got pregnant. If Wendy is really Paul, then who doesn't she look like she had plastic surgery? She looks too pretty to be a man. These are real women Claire, not men."

"I know that" said Claire, upset that he would belittle her like that. "But look how well my theory fits the facts. Why can't Wendy remember her past? Because she doesn't have one! Why isn't she lying to me? Because she really can't remember. How did Paul go away, with no body found? Because he didn't go away. He was *transformed*."

"Transformed?"

"Yes. He's Wendy now. Somehow, he was completely changed, into a woman. I'm sure of it."

"Look. Transformation is impossible. It can't be the answer."

"How do you explain then that there was one Asian man who disappeared, and exactly one Asian woman who appeared? There were two Latino men, and now there are two Latino women. And their numbers were the ones who matched. It goes on and on."

"I just don't buy it. There is no way that Wendy was a man before. Just look at her body!"

"You were probably staring at her boobs. But if you were a woman, you'd notice some things which I'm sure escaped your *male* eyes."

"Such as what?"

"How about her posture? Women don't sit like she did. Or the way she crossed her legs. Women do it like this, legs crossed at the knees, ankles together."

"Yeah, so?"

"She sat like you are, with the legs at right angles. Like a man. She didn't move like a woman. She didn't seem totally comfortable in a female body."

"So, maybe she was a tomboy, or a klutz."

"Yes, but what about the others? They were all the same. None of them were great at putting on makeup. None of them were good dressers. None of them really kept their places nice like most women do. All these little things add up Jake. I'm telling you: Wendy used to be a man."

 

As Claire went over the other cases, and pointed out one thing after the next, even Jake had to admit that it looked like she was right. There were just too many things for it to be coincidence. Her explanation, although far-fetched, sounded like it *had* to be true.

"This is kind of a wild theory" he said. "We had better check on it some more before we report this to the field office. If we don't have more facts, they'll laugh us out of the FBI."

"Agreed" said Claire.

"Wow, real physical transformation. That is pretty wild if it turns out to be true" said Jake.

He shook his head, and made a scowl with his face.

"Those poor guys. Can you imagine anything worse than having tits and a pussy?"

"Jake!" said Claire, now clearly angry. "*I* wake up every day and find that!"

"But you're a woman. For a man, just the thought of *having* breasts is revolting. If I had a vagina, I think I'd kill myself."

Claire got up, stomped over to the restroom, and slammed the door shut. She was so mad that she was about to cry, and she wasn't going to give Muller the satisfaction of seeing her do that. He'd say she was weak, because she was a woman. So she just got away from him, in her rage.

"What? What's the matter?" he said.

Men were so clueless.

* * *

 

Claire decided the next logical step was to get Wendy to look at a picture of Paul. If she used to be him, the image of his face should strike *something* inside her. Even Muller couldn't argue with her, so he went along with it, although he was upset that it wasn't *his* idea.

They arrived at Wendy's apartment, and sat her down at the table. Claire noticed how her posture had improved since a few weeks ago, and now she crossed her legs like a lady. She was getting more comfortable with being a woman, and she was adjusting. Of course, Muller noticed nothing, being a man, like how much better her makeup was today, or how she coordinated her colors better. She had just done her nails, and she wore perfume this time. Claire was sure of it: Wendy was getting more and more used to being a woman.

"We're investigating a man who is missing" said Claire. "This is very important Wendy. Look at this picture, and tell us if you know this man."

She handed her a picture of Paul Taylor, the man she suspected that Wendy used to be.

"I know him!" said Wendy.

"From where?"

"I...I'm not sure. That face is so familiar though! I know I've seen him, but I just can't place it. It seems like something from a long time ago."

That was when Claire noticed it: there was a mole on Wendy's cheek. And in the photo, Paul had a mole the same size, in the same place. She whispered it to Muller, who nodded his head.

"Thank you. That's all" he said, as they got up to leave.

"I believe you now Claire. You were right. Wendy really is, or was, Paul. That mole on her cheek clinches it."

"She recognized her former face, but she couldn't place it. Whoever did this to her must have also done something to her memories. She can't access them, even if they're in her."

"I just can't believe that he's a chick now. Ouch! You look at her, and you'd never know. He doesn't even know, does he? He thinks he's a woman."

"He *is* a woman now" said Claire.

"I just can't imagine. That poor guy! I feel so bad for him, to be a helpless woman now."

Claire held back her anger. Muller was getting to be too much to handle. She wanted to get this case done, so she could rid herself of him, and get a better partner.

* * *

 

Claire was looking at the list of phone numbers, which were in common between the missing men and the newly appearing women. They were all different. She traced them, and they all came from disposable cell phones, so there was no way to trace them to a single person. But it *had* to be the same person. Now how to find him?

Claire dug deeper. All of the disposable phones were from the same company. She worked backwards through their records, and she was able to trace the sale of those phones to the same store, located in downtown Las Vegas. That helped narrow it down, but a store like that sold hundreds of phones a week.

But how many were sold in large volume? She get a subpoena for the store's records, and sifted through them. All at once, she found it: a link between the phones. They were all bought on the same day, by the same person. In fact, twenty phones were purchased at the same time. They had paid cash though, so the sale couldn't be traced back. And the purchase was long enough ago that the store's security camera tapes were reused.

But now she had something to go on. She had the list of other phones which been bought together. She checked with the phone company, and two of them had not been used. She worked with the cell phone provider to set a trap. When the phones were used, the conversation would be taped, and the location of the cell being used would be recorded. That would narrow down the scope of the search to a few blocks. With luck, they might find the location.

 

Claire got the call from the phone company at 3:35 in the afternoon, three days later. She downloaded a copy of the recording onto her computer, then she got Muller from his room to listen to it.

"Now we just have to find the person responsible" said Muller.

"I might have them now" replied Claire.

"How?" he said.

She explained her activities for the past few days, while he was pouring over his notes, and interviewing people who knew Wendy, to see if any of them knew anything. He was amazed at all she had done.

They sat down with her laptop, and played the sound wave file of the recording.

"Matt? This is Samantha" said a woman in a sexy voice.

"Hello Samantha. I've been waiting to hear from you" he replied.

"I'm ready for you. Get your hot body over here right now."

"Where are you?"

"I'm at 1217 Desert Palm avenue. Get here soon. I'm waiting for you."

 

"How old is the tape?" said Muller.

"About an hour old" she replied.

"Lets roll."

 

Agents Muller and Scudder got in the black sedan, and sped through town to 1217 Desert Palm Ave. It was a larger house in the suburbs. No lights were on that they could see. They went around back, where Muller picked the lock. They walked in, flashlights in hand, and looked around. All was quiet in the back of the house. But there was a steady hum, coming from the upper floor. Muller and Scudder went to the stairway, and started up. They made sure to walk on the outside of the stairs, where they were less likely to creak and groan, and give away their presence.

The room at the top of the stairs had a light coming from under the door. Suddenly, the humming stopped. They held their breath, waiting to see what happened. After a few moments, they nodded at each other. It was time to burst through the door, and catch whatever was going on, in the act.

Muller jumped up, burst through the door, gun in hand. Claire followed, close behind, holding up her badge, and her gun.

"FBI! Nobody move!" she yelled.

Both agents gasped at what they saw. The room was full of equipment, with wires and hoses going every which way, connecting a complex series of modules together. Computer screens blinked away. In the middle of all the gear was a bed, like a hospital cot. It was empty, but from the wrinkles on the sheets, it had been recently used.

Standing with their arms up were two women. One was dressed in a white lab coat, while the other wore a little black dress.

"Samantha?" asked Claire, looking at the shorter woman in the white coat.

"Yes. That's me" she said.

"Matt?" said Muller, looking at the other woman, who was shivering all over, looking so uncomfortable, as if she was about to lose it and start crying. The woman shook her head.

"I'm not Matt. I'm Annette."

She looked over at Samantha, who nodded reassuringly.

"What have you done to Matt?" asked Muller.

"Matt? I don't know any Matt" she replied.

Muller looked back at Annette.

"How can you stand it man? Being a woman now?"

Annette started to cry.

"You've upset her" said Samantha. "You should apologize."

"Don't tell me what to do, lady. You're sick" said Muller.

"Why is the FBI even here?" replied Samantha, calmly and coolly. "What have I done? I see no evidence of a crime."

"We're onto you" said Muller. "You are the one taking men, and transforming them into women. We know that Annette here used to be Matt, just an hour ago."

"My, that is a grand accusation" said Samantha. "And just how do you propose that you will prove this all in a court of law? You didn't see anything here, just two women talking together. There was no crime committed."

"We'll examine your machines, and figure out how they work" he replied.

"Really? It would take a team of experts ten years to reverse engineer just one of the components I've invented. You'd never figure it all out."

Muller looked over at Claire, then back at Samantha.

"If *you* designed all of this, a man could figure it out."

"And why is that?" said Samantha, now clearly upset. "Because I'm a woman?"

"Yes" replied Muller. "Everyone knows you don't know engineering as well as a man. You're not as technical."

"Muller!" said Claire, who was really fed up with him by now. She lost discipline in front of a suspect, but didn't care at this point.

"Don't you *ever* talk to me like that!" snapped Muller. "And not in front of a criminal!"

Claire was so mad that her face started to turn red.

"In theory" she said to Samantha, "and off the record, what would a man have done to be placed onto your machine?"

"Crimes against womanity" she replied. "A rapist, or a molester might be a good candidate. Or someone who did such terrible things to women that they didn't deserve to keep going on as they were. People who are extremely sexist."

"Like my partner?" she said.

"Exactly. He would be a perfect candidate."

"You know" said Claire, turning to Muller, "if we caught her in the act, actually *doing* it to someone, then we would have grounds for arrest."

"Yes, but we were too late" he replied.

"Not necessarily. We could still witness a transformation."

She turned to Samantha now.

"Couldn't we? Your machinery is ready?"

"Yes" replied Samantha. "We could use it right now."

"Claire?" said Muller, as she pulled the gun our of his hand, then turned to him and smiled.

"But Muller, we need evidence. We need to see the machine in action."

"No Claire" he said, as she pointed the gun right at him, and motioned for him to get on the bed. "Don't do this!"

"We'll see how much you like it" she said, "Now how did you say it, so gently and tactfully. Having tits and a pussy? Lets see how *you* like it."

"No! Stop this!" he said, as Samantha started tightening the straps to hold him in place on the bed. She cut away his clothes, and put the scraps in the waste basket. Soon he was naked, and shivering on the table. She started attaching wires to him, and a band across his head which held a metal cap in place. All sorts of tubes and wires were attached to him.

"Now would you like a demonstration of just the physical aspects of the transformation, or would you like to see a mental transformation as well?"

"Oh, definitely a mental one as well. I want to see how you can take a man, and make him think like a woman. That would be most interesting to see."

"Very well. Lets do the physical part first, then we'll come back and remake his her mind."

"Sounds good to me."

Claire put the gun away. She watched as Samantha pushed all sorts of buttons, and set dials on her machinery.

"No! Claire! I'm sorry! Don't do this!"

"What?" said Samantha. "I thought I heard a *man* pleading."

"I didn't hear anything" replied Claire innocently.

"I'll have your badge for this!" raged Muller, causing them to both laugh.

"I might lose my badge, but you're going to lose something else; your manhood."

"You b!t*h!!!" he yelled.

"Can you do something to quiet him?" asked Claire.

"Certainly" replied Samantha. She pushed a button on the console in front of her, and Muller's face went into a blank expression, and his voice became quiet. His voice was silent, but a rage burned in his eyes.

"Now Muller" scolded Claire, "I'm just doing my job here. If I don't actually see you transformed into a woman, how do I know that this machine even works? I know what you're thinking: what about me? Well, I already have tits, and I already have a pussy. So it *has* to be you in there dear. I hope you have fun."

 

Claire went downstairs with Samantha and Annette. The three women sat around sipping herbal tea, and talking about all the rotten men they had known in their lives. Claire was surprised to find how many memories as a woman that Annette had already.

"That is part of what I can do to them" said Samantha.

"Tell me about Matt. What did he do exactly?" she said, taking a little nibble from her scone.

"He was a mean man. He hit his girlfriend, and abused her mentally too. He had no respect for women, telling a friend of mine that she should learn her place! Just because she tried to start her own business, he told her that she was wrong, and that she should be home with her man."

"And what do you think about that?" said Claire to Annette.

"I want to be at home with *my* man" she replied. "I want to be a housewife, and be supportive of my husband. I respect a woman who chooses otherwise, but that is what *I* really want to do."

Claire nodded to Samantha.

"Poetic justice" she said. "And it was the same for everyone?"

"Yes. Exactly. I don't pick men at random; only those who really deserve it. Matt would never have been punished by the criminal justice system. He would be like that all his life, hurting women wherever he went."

"But Annette is a good girl. She would never harm a soul" said Claire. "Your solution is wonderful Samantha. I really admire what you've done here."

"Thank you. I think that you're former partner should be done now. Would you like to go check on her?"

"Certainly" she replied.

They went back upstairs to see how Muller was developing.

 

On the bed upstairs, laid a gorgeous woman. Her long hair was quite a mess, but her body was perfect. She had wide hips, a narrow tummy, and she was at least a D cup, if not bigger. Her face was flawless, her lips wide and seductive. She would attract men like flies.

The woman's skin was perfect and flawless. Her thin arms, narrow shoulders and pretty face would be completely out of place on a man's body. It was impossible to know from looking at her, that she used to be Muller, and that she used to be male. The transformation was perfect, and complete. Muller was a woman now, in every way. He would have periods. He could get pregnant. There were only two things from his former self that remained now: his mind was unaltered, and his eyes burned with seething anger.

 

Samantha pushed a button, and Muller could talk again.

"I'm going to kill you!" raged the woman on the table, in a voice that had been transposed into the high end of the alto range. I look of surprise covered her face, as she heard her feminine voice for the first time.

"Now Muller, you told me that if you were a woman, you'd kill *yourself*, not me. Now tell me how it feels to look down at your chest, and see two large beautiful breasts there. They are so lovely and full. You'll have no problem at all getting men interested in you. And when you give birth, your baby will be lucky because you'll produce a lot of milk with jugs like those."

"Stop this!" cried Muller. "Shut up!"

"And what about between your legs?" asked Claire. "How does it feel to have a *pussy*? You have a nice moist slit between your legs. You can spread them wide open, and a man can penetrate you. You might want to consider going on the pill, so you don't get knocked up right away."

"No!!!" yelled Muller.

"Now what was it that you said to your buddy on the phone when you thought I wasn't listening? Something about how I couldn't run an investigation, because I was too emotional, and my ovaries were in charge, in stead of my brain? Well guess what Muller? You have ovaries now too. Tell me: do they drive your thinking? Or do your tits? I've heard men accuse women of thinking with their tits. I know you like to think with your little head between your legs. Maybe you could try to think with your pussy."

"Please, stop this" said Muller, now in tears.

Samantha pushed the button, and he was silent again.

 

"Now tell me Claire," she asked, "do you want me to set this for mindless slut, cocktail waitress, hotel maid, or what? You can pick what she will be, and I'll reprogram her mind."

Muller's eyes seemed to bulge out of his head as he heard this. He was unable to talk, but hearing himself called 'she' was almost as bad as Claire having the power over him to choose his future.

"We can't have her talking" she replied after giving it some thought. "So the less of a mind she has, the better. I hate to see loose vacant women who give us all bad names, but I'm afraid that would be her best destiny."

"Agreed" replied Samantha, as she set the next dial. "When her mind is done, she will not be very intelligent. But she will crave one thing: men. She'll do anything to get a man, and to keep him happy. She'll hang out around the casinos, and pick up someone every single night. Sometimes, two or three a night, when she really wants it. That will be her destiny, until she finds one that falls in love with her, and wants to marry her."

"That is a wonder future for you dear" said Claire.

"And what should her name be?" asked Samantha.

"Melanie. He broke up with a girl of that name, so I bet he would *love* to become a Melanie."

"Done" replied Samantha.

Tears started to flow down Muller's cheeks as the humming of the machinery started.

* * *

 

"Tell me Melanie, what do you want?" said Samantha, as she turned off the machine, and started detaching wires.

"A man" purred the soft alto voice from the woman on the table.

"Do you know who Muller is?" asked Claire.

"That's me! Melanie Muller!"

"What about Jake?" asked Claire.

"Is he cute?" replied Melanie, licking her lips.

Claire looked at Samantha, amazed.

"No memories of being male are left in her mind" she said. "She has a vague female past she can remember, but that's it. And as the brain adjusts to the vast levels of female hormones in her system, her very thinking patterns will change. In six months, even neural scans would look the same as a natural born female. She is a woman in every way now. She can even have children if she desires.

"This is amazing" said Claire, as she helped Melanie up. Samantha led her to the bathroom, where she was showered, dried off, and put into a dress.

"I train them here for a few days before turning them loose" said Samantha. "They learn how to put on their makeup, how to dress, and such. Over time they get better."

"I noticed" she replied.

"Let me get her and Annette off to bed. The new women are very tired after their transformations. Tomorrow, I can start to educate them."

 

Claire was sipping more tea, when Samantha returned from putting the two new girls to sleep in bed.

"Now I know it is your job to arrest me" she said. "I just ask you to let me destroy my equipment first, so that it does not fall into the government's hands. I would hate to see it misused."

Claire shifted uncomfortably. She was about to do something she had never done before in her career.

"Samantha, I can't arrest you. I know that it is my job, but what you do is something that we all wish we could do. You take criminals off the street, who the system can't touch. You are serving the common good. I just can't find it in myself to arrest you."

"But I broke the law" she said. "I have to go in."

"What law have you broken? There is no kidnapping. Muller can go home whenever she pleases. There is no crime here that I can see. I have to clear you in my investigation."

"You don't have to do this" said Samantha. "I don't want your career ruined."

"Don't worry about me. I have a fall guy."

She got up and gave Samantha a big hug.

"Good luck" she said.

"Thank you" replied Samantha. "Thank you very much."

* * *

 

"So what did you find out?" said RFO-ASAF Feldman.

"Well, things were running smoothly in the investigation, until Muller started to assert that he was in charge, because he was the senior officer. I tried to tell him what I found, but he belittled me time and time again. He led us down one blind alley after the other, and after expending months of time and resource, we found nothing."

"And what about your report that he took off?"

"Yes. Instead of working as a team, he said he had a lead, and insisted that he go it alone, because as he put it 'this is no job for a woman'. That was the last I saw of him. I've been pouring over his notes on this legal pad, but as you can see, they are sloppy and disorganized. I can't make heads or tails of it."

"We need to open a new case" said Feldman, "to solve the mystery of Where's Muller."

"Yes sir" she replied.

"But we've got twenty new cases, which are of higher priority, because of national security. We never want to lose an agent, but he was a loose cannon. He didn't follow procedures. And it got him into trouble. That is why we have partners. I feel sorry for the poor man, but if he took off on his own, you can't be held responsible for him."

"Yes sir" she replied.

"Since we now have an opening for an agent of his level, I am going to field promote you to fill the void he left. I will assign you with a new partner, and you two can begin the next investigation."

"Thank you sir" she said.

"I'm assigning you special agent Tina Augustine, who just moved here from our Tampa office. Go meet her, and get to work."

"Yes sir" said Claire. "The fight against crime never ends, does it?"

Feldman chuckled.

"Get to work Claire" he said.

She walked out of his office, to meet her new partner. She took the case called "Where's Muller", and put it in the cabinet. To make sure that nobody could easily find it, she put it with the F files, for safe keeping.

 

The End

  

  

  

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