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Double Dare by Paul1954 Part 1 - The Bet Friday 20th September, 2005 - 8:50pm Flight BA212 - Baltimore, Washington to Heathrow, London Matthew McDonald sat looking at his hands, not quite believing he had agreed to the bet that he had accepted from his sister. He stretched out his fingers and examined the coral nail varnish and the narrow white gold ring on the middle finger of his right hand. It was most probably just as well that he was completely unaware that, to anyone looking at him, it would have seemed like a typically feminine gesture made by a pretty girl. His eyes strayed down to the short dress that finished only 4" above the knees. This covered topped the sheer, almost bare, black pantie-hose and the fine black sling-backs that adorned his legs. He winced a little at the sight of the matching coral nail-varnish that decorated his toenails. He wasn't sure exactly how he felt at this moment! He was a little upset, for reason's he really didn't want to face, and felt threatened by his own confused feelings, he had not expected to pass as a girl so easily and after so little preparation! His trip to the airport had been his first in public 'en femme' and he had been sure that everyone was going to stare and point at him and that he would be exposed. He hadn't even expected to get out of the hotel and had, if he was being honest with himself, been banking on his mother spotting the charade immediately. It would have been worth the forfeit, he realised, to put him out of this agony! He very nearly blew it the minute that he left the hotel as he got into the car waiting to take them to the airport. He had gone in feet first and nearly fell over as he tried to ease his exposed legs into the back seat. His legs had parted and given his sister a free show, which caused her a lot of amusement, and he only just managed to recover before his mother arrived at the other side of the car. The rest of the trip had been uneventful and he had avoided making conversation with his mother which she had accepted, thinking the 'she' was obviously too upset to talk much. Well, he had expected to be stared and pointed at and, Oh! he had been stared at alright, but only in a way that made him feel acutely uncomfortable! He now knew the less than subtle scrutiny that women gave to each other as he felt himself being constantly checked out by his 'sisters'. This was something that he had never really noticed before but, because he was so nervous at being 'read', he had noticed every little glance he got. The other type of staring made him even more uncomfortable! He had attracted considerable attention from any male that had even halfway looked in his direction and this sort of attention made him feel exposed and vulnerable. It was like looking down the barrel of a hunter's gun. He had been used to being the hunter, not the hunted, and this proved to be a sobering experience for him. Maybe all men should try this, at least once, he thought! It might make them understand exactly how a girl feels and, maybe, make them re-evaluate the way they acted towards them! He was certainly going to try to change his attitude when he changed back to his male persona, he determined, although deep down he knew that a leopard never changes it's spots. He knew that he was never going to go through this again, whatever the reason. This was a one-off that he had been suckered into like a na?ve fool! He was still regarding himself critically, despite his success so far. It still seemed to take a constant effort to keep his legs together despite the gaff that held his penis tightly back inside his legs. He felt quite tired now; tired from the strain of maintaining this constant charade and he would be glad when he got back to Sussex and could return to being himself again. He looked across the aisle at his mother - she was already sleeping but that didn't surprise him - she could sleep in the middle of a battlefield! He turned to his right to see his sister and flushed a little as she grinned at him. She had short brown hair, cut in a mannish style, and was wearing the same stylish cut blazer and trousers that he had purchased from his Regent Street tailor just one week before. The stewardess leaning across him interrupted his thoughts. "Can I get you anything Miss" she said with the practised smile that airline crew wear like a badge of pride. He wasn't aware that the level of attention he was receiving was anything unusual - he always travelled First Class. What did seem different was the lack of any sexual undercurrent that usually accompanied the offer of help from an attractive and young female. "Uh no thanks, I'm fine right now" he said in a soft soprano voice and put the complimentary eye shades back over his eyes and inserted the ear plugs he found in the light pink vanity bag they had given him. He would try and sleep the rest of this six-hour trip, the less he spoke to his mother, the less chance he had of giving himself away. As he settled back to relax he thought back to how he had ended up like this, dressed and impersonating his sister. He was one of a pair of identical twins borne to John and Elizabeth McDonald, identical that is, apart from the small matter of their gender. When they were smaller, nobody could have told them apart they were so similar. The tragedy was that they never really knew each other after those early days, their parents each took custody of a child following an acrimonious and bitter divorce. The twins were the only part of the divorce settlement that was evenly shared as Matthew stayed with his mother and Tamara lived with her father. Matthew definitely ended up with the better deal as his mother managed to retain her inherited money, coming from a wealthy family. Tamara was less lucky. Their father had no real money of his own and, due to the well- publicised affair he had with a 'B' movie actress, was left virtually penniless. Matthew and his mother had remained in the family estate in Sussex, in the South of England, but his father had taken Tamara back to Edinburgh to return to his family. His fierce Scottish pride had led him to refuse any offers of money that his ex-wife made to make their lives, mainly Tamara's life anyway, a little easier. This upset Elizabeth but there was nothing she could do about it and tried to bury her grief at losing her only daughter. Matthew's life had, so far, been a bed of roses. He had received every advantage that his mother's money, and her good connections, could have given him. He had left University at twenty-one and walked straight into owning his own business, courtesy of his mother. It was a 'can't fail' advertising agency where he only employed the best creative consultants, money was no real object, and had achieved instant success. Within a year the business was virtually running itself and Matthew had more than enough time to indulge in one of the real passions in his life, managing a Touring Car Racing team. The silver spoon, that seemed to reside permanently in his mouth showed no sign of tarnishing as his team, sponsored by his mother of course, was soon successful enough to obtain independent financial backing from a top brand beer company. He was constantly pictured with a beautiful girl, usually blond, on his arm but had recently become serious over one particular model, Katrina, who was now his regular girlfriend and the other passion in his life. There were even rumours that an engagement was going to be announced soon. * * * * * * * * * * * * Tamara's life was as different from this as it could get. Her father struggled to get any regular employment and she received only the most basic of educations that the state provided. She left school as soon as it was legal to do so without any qualifications whatsoever and soon entered a series of menial jobs. The latest job was that of a clerical assistant in a small firm of accountants. There had never been any discernible bitterness on her part, her father had loved and protected her from any publicity and, living in Edinburgh, they were shielded from the glare of publicity that surrounded Elizabeth and Matthew. Last month her father had enjoyed a small win on the Lottery and had decided to indulge both Tamara and himself by taking a trip to Washington - they had relations in Baltimore and he had always wanted to visit there. It was while they were there that her father was mugged and critically injured. He had too much to drink one night and had ended up in the wrong part of town still carrying what was left of his winnings. Two days after that incident he died leaving a distraught Tamara to cope with her loss. * * * * * * * * * * * * Word of her ex-husbands death soon got back to Elizabeth McDonald and she decided to fly out to Washington, along with Matthew, to see if she could help Tamara and to try and re-build the bridges that had been broken so many years ago. Neither she, nor Matthew, had seen Tamara for over fourteen years now! They re-united with Tamara as soon as they reached the hotel that had been arranged for them all. After trying to console Tamara in her grief, Matthew felt nothing for the father he had never known, they settled down and took stock of themselves. They were all shocked at how very much alike the twins still were and how, despite growing up apart from each other, they had changed very little. If they had been of the same gender, they would have been indistinguishable from each other and Matthew felt a little uneasy, when he realised this was more down to clothes and make-up rather than anything physical. Oh sure, Tamara had slightly wider hips, slighter more refined shoulders and her hair was longer but that was about all (apart from the generous bust-line she possessed)! Their faces were virtually identical apart from Tamara having slightly fuller lips and brighter eyes; Matthew had always sported a narrow jaw-line. He also had slender arms and hands, with very little muscle development. That was the reason why he had managed a Touring Car Team rather than participate as a driver - he could never acquire the upper body strength needed to control a twisting car driven at high speeds, despite spending a fortune at the gym! Tamara was pleased to see her brother again, she had long speculated on how he might have turned out, and bore him no real grudge. There was a little lingering resentment about how he had everything so easy, especially in comparison to how she and her father had struggled to keep solvent, but she was sensible enough to realise that this wasn't down to Matthew. She found it much harder, though, to deal with her mother. Her dislike of her, fed by stories from her father, bordered on hatred but she didn't want to fall into the trap of becoming hard and embittered and tried to make an effort to block out the years of her recognised resentments. Deep down though, she could not rid herself of the feelings of abandonment and rejection - how could a mother ever give up her own daughter for whatever the reason? She would never understand why she hadn't fought harder to keep her children together! These feelings were not intended to be critical of her father, he had done everything within his power - apart from accepting his ex-wife's charity - to provide for her and she had loved him deeply for that. It just signified the gulf between her and her mother, a gulf, she believed, that could never be bridged! Her father had been buried in Washington - Tamara had no need to bring him home, as he would always live forever inside of her head. She considered the body to be merely a shell, and she took up her mother and Matthew's offer to stay on in Washington with them for a few days. This was mainly to give herself a chance to get to know Matthew better. They had got on well from the start and had managed to cross the years they had been separated with an ease that surprised them both. To her regret, Elizabeth had failed to forge a new bond with her daughter. She accepted that her own strong will, the same strong will that was much in evidence within her own daughter, along with the history between them would ever prevent this happening. Tamara had refused any offer of financial help with a curt statement "I have managed this far without your help and, however hard it may prove to be, I think I will still manage on my own". She did this out of a sense of loyalty to her father but also because she did not want to be beholden to her mother for anything. Elizabeth was both proud and disappointed at how strong her daughter was and knew that, indeed, she would cope! The growing ease and familiarity that Matthew and Tamara felt led to regular bouts of friendly banter between them and this led, one day, to a bet - or dare - that would lead to permanent, and unimaginable, changes to the both of their lives. They were still a little shocked at the physical similarity between them and Tamara knew that Matthew felt a little threatened by this, much to her amusement. A friendly argument had led to a point where Tamara responded with a challenge that they were so alike that with a change of clothing, and also a little work on his appearance, that she was sure that Matthew could have passed for her! As she expected, Matthew merely scoffed at her suggestion and, snorted in derision when she suggested that she would have no problem at passing as him. An evil glint appeared in Tamara's eyes as her challenge started to grow into a full blown dare. She knew that he got irritated by the fact that she preceded him by a mere fourteen minutes, that had been one of her many interesting discoveries over the last couple of days, and she was going to use all of her armoury in an attempt to provoke him. "What's the matter little brother" she needled him as she watched his eyes harden, "are you so unsure about your own masculinity that you're afraid to put on a frock?" Ouch, that hurt! She could see that she had scored with her first blow. "W .. what .. I .." he stuttered and blustered in a poor attempt at a repost. She pressed home her early advantage before he could think straight. "And do you think that you're soooo .. big and tough that a poor little old girl like me couldn't pretend to be a big strong man like you?" she continued as she ran her delicately painted fingers down his chest and lowered her head to look through her fluttering, and mascara'd, eyelashes at him. She had needed to do this, as she was slightly taller than him now in her 2" heels. He had no real answers for her and just blustered, making futile denials and protestations, and making the almost childlike claim that he wasn't scared of anything! She knew that she now had him over a barrel and circled in for the kill! And as it has ever been, since time began, another man was manipulated by the 'weaker' sex into acting as she desired by uttering just a few, well chosen words proving that the pen, or in this case the voice, is indeed far mightier than the sword! "Well if you're so sure about that then I dare you to prove it, go on - let me just see you put your money where your mouth is!" she said aggressively with her slender jaw sticking out and her hands placed firmly on her hips. "Wha.. what do you mean?" he questioned nervously, realising for the first time that she had forced him on the defensive and had him hooked. She started to reel him in. "What I mean Matthew, is that we should put this to the test. You can take my place and I will take yours". "Bu .. but" he spluttered helplessly like a fish desperately seeking water. "Well come on then, are you prepared to have a go at this? Go on, I bet that just haven't got the balls to do it have you - or rather you have but maybe you shouldn't have eh!" she said and started laugh at her own weak joke. He was still hesitating a little, despite the jibes until she finally said, "Come on little brother. I dare you! Let's make it interesting and have a bet or are you chicken?". That was it! He could never refuse a dare and found it even harder to turn down a bet. "ALL RIGHT, Okay then you're on" he said as Tamara squealed and jumped in the air clapping her hands. * * * * * * * * * * * * It was later the next day that Tamara and Matthew sat in her hotel room dressed in their everyday clothes. A casual observer would have seen an attractive young couple preparing for a night on the town. The girl sat in front of the mirror that topped the vanity table, and looked critically at herself. She was wearing a little black dress, barely black tights and black court shoes. A thin gold necklace and a pair of matching earrings completed the picture. The young man wore a white long-sleeved shirt, a smart blazer, and an expensive looking pair of pants and brown suede shoes. He looked pleased with himself as he pulled at his blazer sleeve making sure his cuffs protruded at the correct length. "Well I think I make a pretty convincing picture, what do you think?" the man said with a deep timbre to his voice as he looked in the full-length mirror on the back of the cupboard door. The girl turned around and looked him up and down. "I've got to give it to you Tamara, I would never have believed it possible but I'm beginning to think I might be on to a loser here" she said in a soft soprano voice with just a hint of a Scottish accent. "I think you're right. I'm really impressed with your commitment to the cause, though I never thought you'd go this far," Tamara said as she looked at his smoothly shaven legs and pierced ears. The most impressive part of his costume however, was the realistic looking cleavage that he now sported. Tamara had been amazed when she first saw these and had, at first, thought he had breast implants inserted. Surely he wouldn't have gone that far! The truth was a little less stunning but, none the less, still surprised her. It certainly demonstrated how keen he was to win, or maybe he was keener not to lose their bet. He had, that very morning, visited a recommended cosmetic surgeon and had been injected with a water based gelatine substance behind his natural breast cavity. The gelatine had mixed with his natural body fluid and had swelled out to give him the equivalent of a 36C size pair of breasts. He had been assured that they would only last like this for a week before the gelatine compound started being absorbed back into his body, but that would be more than enough for his purposes. A little exercise would soon restore any stretched skin that remained. His painted finger went to his ear and played with an earring as he looked at his made-up face in the mirror. Although the head turned as he moved, and the mouth opened in time with him as he made an 'O' shape with his lips, he still found it hard to believe that he wasn't looking at his sister! The human hair shoulder length wig mimicked Tamara's hair perfectly in both colour and shape, and he had it tightly secured by having it woven into his own hair. She had helped him style it for the first few times until he was able to do it for himself. He considered the terms of the bet with a little annoyance, mainly annoyance at himself! He knew that he was now fully committed to this impersonation if he wasn't to miss out on one of the loves of his life! The agreed bet was that Matthew would impersonate Tamara for the trip back to England in three days time. This would give him plenty of time to prepare himself. If he could remain undetected during their trip then Tamara would swallow her stubborn pride and live with Matthew and her mother for the next six months. He thought that this would be a win, win for him as he felt that he had re-discovered another part of himself and didn't want to lose that! It might also give her the chance to get over the prejudice she held towards their mother - he was sure that, once she got to know her better, she would see that their separation wasn't all their mother's fault. If he was 'read', or found out, it in this charade, then he would have to give up managing his racing team and give the money to charity. She had managed to get him to agree to this by, again, daring him - some people never learn! He now knew that his impersonation would have to be very convincing, convincing enough to fool even his own mother, and he didn't really know if he truly believed it was possible! Oh yes, if even his mother spotted the charade then he would pay the forfeit! Tamara would, of course, have to play Matthew's role but she was confident she could carry it off. As he looked at her he knew she had been right! The make-up and clothes had given Matthew a convincing feminine appearance. Much harder to mimic would be the voice and he was convinced, at first, that this is where he would be exposed. He was not a quitter however and had, that very day, found contacts that would provide him with a throat spray that would give his voice the pitch and softness of a female for a period of eight hours. Money could work wonders if you let it! It had taken a little practice but less than six hours later he had managed to produce a good facsimile of his sister's voice, the accent had taken only a little more effort. He also managed to get a male version of this spray for Tamara and asked her to use it. He needed her to be successful if he was to pull this off! She had also had her hair cut to resemble his natural style; she certainly was doing her utmost to succeed. He had been a little surprised at how helpful she had been in making him look convincing, after all - she was helping him to win his bet - but she explained this by saying that she had a no hope job with poor pay and had little to lose. If she had to move into the family home again for a while - well, she could live with that! * * * * * * * * * * * * Part 2 - Winner Takes All The remainder of the flight went smoothly and everyone just accepted Matthew and Tamara for who they appeared to be. Matthew's heart fluttered a little when they were stopped as they went through customs, especially when he presented his sister's passport to the officials, but they were waived through with no further checks. He hadn't even considered, prior to the trip, that there might have been the possibility of a full body search being made on him, or even on his sister, and a cold chill ran down his spine at the thoughts of his exposure and the publicity this would have generated! Tamara had sailed through her own impersonation with a swagger and seemed to enjoy the reversed roles immensely. Their mother had never realised that her children had swapped places. Tamara had kept her distance a little, fearing that her mother's greater familiarity with Matthew would allow her to spot any anomalies with her behaviour. Matthew was less confident about fooling her but Elizabeth had put any strange behaviour down to Tamara's recent bereavement and the knowledge that she really didn't know her at all anymore! They had been collected from the airport and driven back to the family mansion on an unusually quiet drive down the M25 and M23 motorways on a misty, autumnal Saturday morning. As the car door was opened for him Matthew sniffed the air and drank in the heady aroma of a crisp, and slightly damp, English morning. He had always loved that evocative aroma of smoke and the coolness of the early morning mist that always hung in the air, as the first fallen leaves were either rotting, or being burnt. It made him long for the early morning practise sessions around Thruxton racetrack that he enjoyed so much! He had almost forgotten that he was still in disguise, his thoughts taking him elsewhere, and he was jolted back to reality as his butler, Clarkson, held out a hand to him and held Matthew's white gloved hand. "Can I help you Miss?" he asked politely as he took my weight as my legs swung around. Matthew's exit from the car was far more graceful than his entry in Washington had been and, for the first time, he actually enjoyed this charade as he wondered what Clarkson would have thought if he had known who he really was helping out of the car! It was a relieved Matthew that finally flopped down in the guestroom that had been made ready for Tamara. The travellers had all gone to their rooms to freshen up before enjoying a late breakfast. He removed Tamara's clothes and went to the bathroom to have a really good soak and to start removing every last trace of his disguise. The only thing that wouldn't disappear, for now, were his newly acquired breasts. He would have to bind these for a couple more days until they were absorbed. They still seemed to be as firm as when they were first created and, as he cupped them and felt their weight, he had to admit that he might even miss their jiggling and swaying for a while, after he got back to normal! The first sign that all was not well was when he found that he couldn't take his wig off. He pulled at the hair and tugged where he thought the loose weaves had been inserted. Shit! What was he going to do now? He looked around for some clothes to wear but found that only Tamara's cases had been left in his room. He saw exactly what he had expected to see as he opened up her cases to find them all full of dresses, lingerie and other female items of apparel, why should he have expected to see anything else! Realising that he didn't have any of his own clothes to wear he wrapped a white bath towel around himself. He felt ridiculous as he made sure to tuck it around his bosom as he had seen so many of his girlfriend's do in the past - what on earth had made him get himself into this mess! He wrapped another towel around his head to hide his longer hair, and poked his head around the doorway to make sure that nobody was coming. Seeing that the coast was clear, he crept across the hallway towards his own bedroom. He rapped gently on the door and gently called out "Tamara, Tamara - it's me Matthew" but got no answer. He repeated the exercise with the same result. He moved quickly back to Tamara's room and considered his options for a moment. They seemed to be pretty limited from where he was standing and he looked to see if there were any scissors available - at least then, he could get rid of this hair! His thoughts were cut short by the phone ringing, and he removed the towels as he walked across to answer it - he felt so stupid looking like some shy girl! As he answered it his voice started to break. This would have been alright if was replying as Matthew which is how he had planned it, but he was answering Tamara's phone in Tamara's room. To the rest of the world he was Tamara. "Tamara . . are you Okay, you sound a little horse?". Damn, it was his mother! "Ye .. yes thank you, I'm fine. Flying always affects me like this, it must be the air they always re-circulate through the system" Matthew replied struggling to maintain Tamara's high-pitched voice. "Then we look forward to seeing you shortly. Matthew is already down here and feeling hungry, will you be long?". Matthew .. downstairs - what the hell did she think she was doing - what was Tamara playing at? He guessed that this wasn't any accident. Tamara had known that he had won the bet and was now getting her pound of flesh by extending the joke a little. Well, he really had no choice! He only had her clothes and knew that they consisted entirely of skirts and dresses. He had seen her wearing pants in Washington so she must have deliberately packed them elsewhere, confirming that she must have set this up deliberately! He resigned himself to continuing the charade, and had to admire Tamara's cheek as he started to assemble what he needed to wear. His many practice sessions in Washington had paid off and he was able to dress, and make himself up, in just under the hour. He had changed into a mid-thigh length maroon dress that was casual and comfortable as well as complimenting his brunette hair. It was too much work to change the nail- varnish and lipstick to match and he could not be bothered, still feeling annoyed at Tamara's deception. A quick spray of the voice altering solution followed by a quick test to make sure he still sounded like Tamara, and he walked down the stairs, through the hallway and into the lounge. Elizabeth and Tamara were already waiting and were drinking some fresh orange juice. He felt his legs tremble a little when he saw their neighbours sharing a drink with them. "At last, I will never understand why women take so long to get ready. Just what is it that you do?" Tamara said to him in mock surprise, tongue lodged firmly in cheek. Matthew was fuming. How dare she make a fool of him this way! Tamara led him over to his neighbours and introduced him to them. He prayed to the heavens that he could maintain his disguise as they traded small talk for a few minutes. It was a few minutes after this that Tamara walked over to Matthew and put his arm around his maroon clad shoulders. "Well, I just thought I'd tell you that we're off now. Tamara was keen to return home as soon as possible and, if we hurry, we can catch the next shuttle to Edinburgh from Gatwick". Matthew was completely speechless as Tamara turned towards him with a gleam in her eye as she continued. "I've had your things packed again sis, now you'd better say your goodbyes and we can get off - we don't want to miss our flight!". Matthew was swept along like a twig in rapids, totally out of control and following whichever way the current swept him. There was nothing that he could do without exposing his real identity and his pride wouldn't allow that! His mother had shaken his hand goodbye, displaying no sign of any intimacy, and he had been led into the waiting car that headed towards Gatwick. He glared at Tamara as she sat next to him in the back seat, but could elicit nothing from her except a large grin and a teasing hand on his exposed thigh, which he slapped away. He couldn't afford to have the driver overhearing their conversation so he kept quiet until the reached the airport and wondered what would happen to him now! It wasn't until Tamara had paid for their tickets, using his credit card as well - the nerve, and they were sitting alone in the Club Class lounge, that Matthew finally got the chance to talk to her. He exploded. "What in heavens name do you think you are playing at" he growled at her in a loud hissing voice. "I was going to meet Katrina tonight, and instead I'm sitting in the First Class Lounge of an airport waiting for yet another damn flight - this time to your 'Bonny Scotland'. Why are you doing this?". Despite his obvious annoyance she couldn't help smiling at him in that playful, yet lascivious and mischievous way, that he was fast becoming accustomed to! "I couldn't resist it, you looked so cute and sexy I just had to have you to myself a little longer" she said in a suggestive manner. Whatever he had expected it had not been this. He was sitting with his sister, wearing a dress and heels and fiddling with his handbag. He felt so ridiculous that his anger dissipated like the air out of a burst balloon. He could nothing else but laugh at her outrageous behaviour and hugged her as he realised how much he had missed her over the years. The feelings that he was now experiencing were like a revelation to him. It was like discovering a whole new part of yourself, and he realised that without Tamara he had never, truly, been whole. He now knew that his current predicament was a small price to pay for discovering her again and he felt tears running down his face, smearing his mascara in the process. He wasn't sure if his tears were from laughter or from joy, probably a mixture of both, what's more he didn't care! Tamara pulled his head back and kissed him gently as she wiped away his tears with a tissue. "Go on Matthew, you'd better go and tidy yourself up, your make-up's running. Oh, and don't be long - the flight will be called any minute now". He laughed, he had never expected to hear such a thing said to him! He found the ladies restroom and cleaned his face and re-applied his make-up until he looked presentable to himself and returned to the lounge as the flight was called. He realised that he was looking forward to spending a few days with Tamara again but resolved to buy some clothes for himself - his days of pretending to be a female were coming to an end - or so he thought! * * * * * * * * * * * * Part 3 - The Trip to Whoever Saturday 21st September, 2005 - 16:45pm Flight BA BA2450 - London, Gatwick to Edinburgh There was no real First Class in the 737, just a curtained off area to give the illusion of exclusivity, but Matthew and Tamara sat there all the same, courtesy of Matthew's AMEX Gold card. They took no notice as the stewardesses went through the usual emergency procedures for the sixty minute journey and were relieved when the aircraft finally lined up on runway 8L after, what had seemed, an interminable period of time. It didn't matter how many times that Matthew flew, he still got a buzz from the sudden burst of acceleration as the 737 attacked the runway. The aircraft quickly grabbed at the sky and continued Eastwards, climbing to eighteen hundred feet before starting to bank left for the heading that would take it east of London on it's journey north. It was as the aircraft started to turn that it first gave a slight shudder and the passengers hands gripped the seat arms nervously, fearing that something had gone wrong. Everything seemed to happen quickly after that and desperate screaming filled the air along with the pungent smell of electrical burning as the pilot tried to prevent the aircraft going into a stall. Twenty seconds later flight BA2450 plunged to the earth, just four miles from the airport, slicing through a thick copse of woodland before ending up in two parts. There were few survivors, and these had all been in the front part of the aircraft where the cockpit, and the two rows of seats behind it, had separated from the main body of the aircraft. The survivors were lucky, if anyone could have called their experience lucky, that they had ended up thirty feet away when the full fuel tanks caught alight. Nobody, that was still alive after the initial impact, could have survived the conflagration that followed as the fireball lit the sky for miles around. Even those who had been with the emergency services for years found it hard to hold onto the contents of their stomachs as the first of them arrived ten minutes later. Bizarrely enough the captain and co-pilot had got off best with both still conscious when the services arrived. Of the remaining three survivors, one died before reaching hospital. "Quick, over here" called out one rescuer, Jeff Quigly, on searching behind what was left of the cockpit, "I think these two are alive" although how they had remained alive defied all sense of humanity. The two seats, containing what was left of Matthew and Tamara, were still joined together, linked by a piece of the railing that had held them to the floor. Within the seats were, what could only be described as, two bloody mounds of tissue, the bodies had sustained extensive mutilation but, amazingly enough, apart from the chest and lower body areas, their clothing appeared to remain relatively untouched. Seasoned air investigators often witnessed these logic-defying anomalies and it still seemed like a minor miracle when it happened! The girl's dress was still recognisable, as were the remains of a bra. A chill ran down Jeff's spine as he saw that she was still clutching her handbag. He carefully cut the strap from her hand, and removed it as gently as he could. This would be invaluable when it came to identification. The handbag seemed to be untouched and, as he opened it, he was rewarded with the sight of a passport and the carbon stub of the air ticket. As he waited for the summoned medical help to arrive, he knew that helping their injuries was way beyond his capabilities, he looked at the passport details. The picture showed a pretty dark-haired girl, with a slightly mischievous look about her. She wasn't beautiful, as in the style of a model, but was very attractive in a much more natural way. The name read Tamara McDonald and the birth-date showed that she was just twenty-one years old. He looked back at what remained of her, still strapped in the seat, and thanked God that she would be completely unaware of the extent of her injuries, and choked a little as he wondered what sort of future she would have now. He could hear help coming as he parted what was left of the mans jacket and felt inside the inner pocket where he found another passport. This was unusually lucky for them, two passengers still with their passports on an internal flight! He couldn't have realised that they were still carrying these from their earlier trip! He was taken aback, a little, when he looked at this man's details. "Matthew McDonald" he said aloud as he performed a double take on seeing the man's photograph. The resemblance between him and this girl was remarkable. Further investigation showed he carried the same birth-date as the girl and their resemblance now made sense to him as he realised they were twins. The irony continued as he could see that they now shared something else. An overhead panel had come loose from the ceiling and sliced through their bodies before coming to rest in their laps. The same panel was still embedded within them and he knew that they would have to cut it away if they were to get them out of here. * * * * * * * * * * * * Elizabeth McDonald was just lying down, trying to recover from the jet lag that she always suffered from after a transatlantic flight, when she was brought back to the real world by a knocking on her bedroom door. She tried to ignore it but the knocking returned. It was not going to go away so she raised herself from her bed and opened the door, putting her face around the small crack, to find Clarkson standing there with a grave expression on his face. "Madam, I have been asked to fetch you, there are some police downstairs who insist on seeing you" he said. Elizabeth sighed and shut the door. "Tell them I will be right down" she called through the door to him and put on a jogging suit, she couldn't face getting dressed - she just didn't have the energy. She looked in the mirror, straightened a few stray hairs, and walked through to the lounge where two Policemen were waiting. "Madam, I'm afraid we have some bad news - would you just sit down for a moment!". Her heart sank but she remained standing - could it be about Matthew - Tamara! "No thank you - I would prefer it if you just tell what you've got to say. I don't like melodrama" she said with great dignity. "There has been a plane crash to the North East of Gatwick. According to the passenger list your son and daughter were on board". She remained standing firm and seemed to grow a little as she inhaled, subconsciously trying to increase her intake of oxygen to steady herself. "Wer .. were", she nearly broke, "were there any survivors?". "There were just four maam, but we believe your children may be amongst them". "Oh thank God!" she uttered and it was at this point that Clarkson stepped in to support her - she looked ready to collapse. "I must warn you maam" the Policeman continued, "they are extremely ill and in a critical condition. It is not known whether it will be possible to save them". "No, no .. I can't let that happen. I .. I've got to see them, please take me to them" Elizabeth said as her stoical countenance cracked for the first time and tears started to build in her eyes. Her long forgotten religious practices suddenly seemed to beckon to her and she walked to the waiting Police vehicle clutching a hastily retrieved set of rosary beads. * * * * * * * * * * * * Saturday 21st September, 2005 - 21:12pm Sussex General Hospital, Crawley A trolley was being wheeled swiftly, but smoothly, along the corridor of the Special Burns Unit followed by, what seemed to be it's exact duplicate. Each trolley had what remained of a human being, still recognisable as such despite the appalling desecration that had been inflicted on their bodies. It was ironic really, the identical twin passengers had suffered, virtually, identical injuries and were being wheeled on identical trolleys in a identical fashion. Suspended drip feeds were attached to the arms and oxygen masks were put over what was left of their faces. The identical treatment they had received, symbolically, parted at that point as one trolley was wheeled to the female unit, the other to the male area. The patients had only suffered minor burns damage but it was the only unit that had the facilities to cope with the horrific injuries they bore so would have to do! Within ten minutes each were lying on an operating table within their sections. "Look at this, it's unbelievable how she has survived so long" Dr. Stephen Budd said as he started to cut away the clothing that had almost seemed to fuse with the body, bonded together by the dried blood that covered them. Despite having operated on many injuries, of all types, this was certainly one of the worst cases that he had ever seen. It appeared that a piece of the overhead panel had broken on impact and had 'sliced' downwards catching part of the girls face, slicing through the throat and upper torso before imbedding itself into the lower body area. Part of the panel was still lodged there and he knew that he didn't have the skill, or the nerve, to remove it. He decided to leave the clothing as it was and went to confer with a colleague. In the male section, a similar scene was unveiling. A part of the same panel was lodged in the man's gut. His chest had almost been peeled bare as the panel had slid down, and lumps of tissue had been removed from all around his torso and down to his thighs. This hospital simply did not have the expertise to treat these injuries and a decision was made to remove them as they were, to the a research unit in Oban, West Scotland which was the only place with the facilities to keep them alive. This was arranged immediately. And so it was that Matthew and Tamara completed their third flight in twenty- four hours and, finally, arrived in Glasgow, Scotland. It wasn't by the East coast, where they had planned to be, and they were not travelling First Class this time but neither had ever experienced the level of attention they were now receiving on any flight that they had previously been on. A high-tech ambulance took them the remainder of the way on the two-hour trip to the Oban facility. As with their entry to Crawley hospital, The McDonald's were placed in separate wings as appropriate to their gender. * * * * * * * * * * * Part 4 - A New Hope Sunday 22nd September, 2005 - 9:06am Oban Research Facility, Scotland The Doctor came out of the operating theatre and took off the green gown and removed his cap and gloves. He washed his hands twice before filling them with water and burying his face in them, in an attempt to shake himself back to alertness. This had always been the part of the job that he hated most, the moment that he had to give what was usually, bad news. It was one of the reasons he had left the mainstream medical profession and had buried himself away up here so that he could indulge in his first love, research. He hated having to handle the emotional side of the job, preferring to avoid it completely! The research centre specialised in cloning, as well as repairing serious accident injuries, and it was by pure chance that he had been the only Doctor available when the patients had been brought in. At only twenty-six he hadn't gotten very far, being just a junior within an internal hierarchy. He had spent more time as an assistant than as a pioneer, despite the promising advances he had made in his first year. It had been a gruelling session in the operating theatre. The injuries had been amongst the worst that he had seen. He had operated on the girl whilst a colleague had dealt with the man although, if it hadn't been for the remnants of their clothing, it would have been almost impossible to tell who was who! She had suffered flashburns to her face and every hair on her head had been stripped away along with the top layer of skin. The hair follicles seemed to have been burnt away and he didn't think it was likely that it would ever grow back again. The throat had been damaged considerably and the upper chest area had been sliced clean through leaving only a few flaps of stretched tissue and skin where the breasts had been. As the panel piece had been removed they had found that she had been almost disembowelled with the whole stomach area being a bloody mess. The injuries had continued downwards, leaving a huge gash between the legs before resting between the thighs buried 2" deep within the leg itself. Beneath all of this damaged tissue lay a mass of broken bones. There seemed to be no part of the body that had remained undamaged and he really did not know where to start, shaking his head in despair! It was later after consulting with his colleague, the surgeon who had operated on this girl's brother, that he found that her brother had suffered almost identical injuries to her. "Mrs McDonald!" he said as he walked into the waiting room to see the striking late middle-aged woman standing looking out the window. As she turned around he could see the strain she was under, but he could also see a steely-eyed determination in her eyes. He continued "My name is Dr. Frobisher, that is Dr. Alan Frobisher. Please, take a seat over here" he said as he led her towards an uncomfortable looking chair in the corner. He thought that they should really provide better facilities for their visitors but they didn't really get many up here so it had seemed an extravagance! "I'm afraid that the news is not too good. You know, I presume, that they both had part of the aircraft embedded in them. It may sound surprising, but it was a good job that nobody tried to remove it. I think that the debris helped to staunch the wounds and they would probably have bled to death if it had been removed. We have spent the last few hours removing it and have just finished. We have managed to stabilise their condition for the time being, but the prognosis is not looking too good at the moment. They have both suffered severe internal damages, as well as extensive external injuries.". Elizabeth wavered a little but remained resolute and Alan Frobisher had to admire her fortitude as she composed herself. "I need to know Doctor , what will their lives be like if they survive?" "Well" he started to say and then paused for a second, "I think we can most probably keep them alive. It may even be possible to re-build them to a degree but existing regulations will not allow us to apply the techniques we have been developing that would allow them to regain a more than decent quality of life". Despite her upset Elizabeth seized on his last statement. "Legally allow you .. did you say legally! That must mean that you could do something for them. Just is it what you are researching here?" she questioned as she stared deep into his eyes, almost daring him to deny what he had just said! Dr. Frobisher's conscience was troubling him. He knew that this woman had no other dependants apart from these children and besides, if he was honest with himself, he was desperate for a chance to test his new technique out on something other than pigs and lab rats. There was little hope for these people other than the help that only he could provide. Elizabeth listened quietly while he told her about the research carried out here, and about his research in particular. The research centres major activity was centred on cloning and they had been making major progress in this area for some years now. They had kept their activities very low key, following the revelations of the first world-wide success when scientists in Britain produced the first surviving clone, the famous "Dolly" the sheep, about ten years ago. There had been a worldwide furore at the announcement and this had prompted caution at this twin establishment. He took Elizabeth back to the window and pointed towards the hillside. "You see those cattle grazing over there, they are all products of this centre" he said proudly. "Furthermore" he continued, "they are a breed that has been extinct for over ten years, victims of the BSE epidemic that swept the United Kingdom in the nineties. "Are you trying to tell me that you can clone human beings - are you saying that you can clone my children" she said almost in desperation - surely this couldn't be true! "No, no" he said swiftly trying to dampen her enthusiasm a little, "that is still a taboo subject, even in this day and age, and has still never been achieved. My own research has been centred on organ cloning with a view to help alleviate the current shortage of human body parts required for transplants. There had been some success in using pig hearts and kidneys during the last decade but there were too many theological opponents, and a natural human revulsion, to allow this to prosper as an option". He was now in full flow as the obsession, that had dominated his life for the last year, was given full reign. "I have been trying to grow human replacement parts from volunteer donors. If this is successful then it will be possible for everybody to have a spare set of vital organs for whenever they need them. I have managed to grow a working human heart in just six months". "Are you telling me that you could use this to help my children! Then what is stopping you?" Elizabeth said, as her voice raised a little in her impatience! "The only limiting factor now is money and some political lobbying. I know it seems mercenary but there simply isn't enough funds to support what I have discovered and, without that becoming available, I will never get the support from the management here, politically or otherwise!" he said feeling a little dirty, he almost felt like he was blackmailing her! As he had guessed, she would not let a thing like money prevent her from doing whatever it took to save her remaining family. He knew that he could win over his management and she had many friends in high places to fight the political battle. They were under ever increasing pressure from the current Government and their facility was, with the country being in the middle of another recession, at this very moment under threat. Elizabeth McDonald was made well aware of the risks that this pioneering treatment presented to her children, but still decided to sponsor the developments needed to give them a chance to survive with a decent quality of life. She could never have done any other. * * * * * * * * * * * Tuesday 24th September, 2005 - 11:45am Luing, Scotland It had gone exactly as he had predicted, the management decided to back his proposal and allow Mrs McDonald to fund the developments needed to restore her children back to health. The key development would be establishing an additional facility to the existing one. The current centre only had the capability of treating one patient at a time and this treatment was likely to take years before it was completely finished. Andrew Frobisher gained an effective promotion and was put in charge of the project to convert some of the facilities within the existing centre at Oban and to, simultaneously, develop an existing property of theirs on the south side of the tiny island of Luing. Andrew had driven the thirty-minute journey along the single-lane road to the coastline, and then took the small ferry across to the island's only road. A ten-minute drive got him to the island's south coast. He left the four-wheel drive vehicle and breathed in the peat-laden air as he surveyed the research agency property. He was a little disappointed when he saw the dilapidated house in the middle of a large, and barren, plain. The Ministry of Defence warning signs were still present and a, still intact, barbed-wire perimeter fence protected it. He had been told that this place had been one of the best-kept secrets during the cold war back in the last century. He now knew that, underneath this innocuous looking house, there existed a small maze of bunkers and rest rooms that would have allowed up to ten occupants to become virtually self- sufficient for anything up to a year. The property had been handed over to the research agency when the government were cutting back on all defence activities , primarily due to cost of maintaining it's upkeep. The research agency had never used it and it was now under consideration on whether it should be left to run to ruin. Despite the house's appearance he had been told that the bunkers had been maintained and kept in pristine condition, who knew when they would be needed! They had an independent power supply - as well as the standard power feed from the mainland, sterilisation and water purifying capabilities, and an emergency stockpile of food, although Andrew certainly hoped that this would never be needed. Putting his best foot forward, when he had managed to extricate it from the damp peat swamp he seemed to be standing in, he walked over to unlock the gate and the house's front door that would give him access to the bunker. To his surprise, the key turned easily in the lock and he was soon inside and heading for the basement door where he was told a passageway existed, leading to the bunkers. He found the passageway entrance and unlocked a heavy steel security door that swung open smoothly as a series of overhead fluorescent lights flickered on automatically. He walked along the lit corridors until he finally found what he was looking for. He smiled to himself as he entered the bunkers main reception area and looked around the room. "Oh yes - this will be just perfect". * * * * * * * * * * * * Part 5 - Resurrection Work started on the Oban improvements immediately, and they were now in a position to start treatment on the first of the patients within three days. Mrs McDonald asked for her son to be treated first which was as the doctors would have recommended anyway - the injuries, whilst still severe, were more immediately treatable than her daughter's, a women's plumbing being far more complex. The girl, Andrew didn't want to start using her name - it made it too personal, was taken to the private room set aside for her long-term sedation. It was expected to take three months before the Luing facility was available and she would be on life support until they were ready to treat her. Tissue samples were taken from the twins, individually tagged, and then sent to the laboratory, where they would extract the base material needed to start cloning the new organs. Dr. Frobisher was confident that he would be able to grow all of their missing organs and then transplant them into the host bodies. This would include kidneys, lungs, urethra, womb and anything else needed to make the victims whole again. While Dr. Frobisher was overseeing the fitting out of the Luing facility his colleagues had started on repairing some of the superficial injuries on the male victim. He had been to inspect the new organ growth programme and stared at the glass tubes containing the first few cells, of what would turn out to be their new organs. It was one week later when the first tests were made on the replacement parts, and progress had been satisfactory. Dr. Frobisher's assistants had handled all of the laborious testing and presented the findings to him the next day. "Well, according to these reports everything seems to be progressing well - have you anything else to add to this" Andrew Frobisher quizzed Mary Colglan. She fidgeted slightly as her colleague, Clive Mason, kept silent. "No Sir", she said, "everything seems to be coming along fine. We've started on producing the duplicate copies of the cell growth in case they're needed, and we anticipate the less complex samples to be ready within three weeks". "Ah yes" he said consulting the report again. "So that means that we can begin work on the damaged upper and lower lip before the month's out". "Yes Sir" she answered, "His mother has provided us with enough detailed photographs so that we will able to restore them to their former state". "Good, good" he said without looking up from his notes. "That will be all for now. Give me an update in, oh, five days time please - I want to keep on top of this". Dr. Frobisher's assistants left his room and closed the door behind them. "Are you sure we've done the right thing" Mary said to Clive anxiously under her breath. "Yes Mary, it was only a small mistake and it won't make any difference whatsoever so why say anything about it! If it had slipped out that we'd got the labels muddled when we were processing the samples, then we would lose our jobs. It is not a good time to be without work right now - jobs are so hard to find!". Mary thought back to when the test tubes containing the samples had fallen in the sink full of water as Clive had laid them down for a moment. The labels were only attached by a thin layer of gum and had peeled off leaving a soggy mess in the sink. Mary suggested performing a chromosome test before beginning the processing and they could then separate, and re-label them accordingly. Once they had finished testing they re-labelled the test tubes with the confirmed gender and separated them so that the male samples could be treated now. The samples labelled 'Tamara' were put into storage for later treatment. Both Mary and Clive were unaware that this would have been the last opportunity to spot that the samples originally labelled Tamara were really male, and the samples labelled Matthew were female as would have come out in the first stage of processing. "I suppose you're right. Nobody's going to suffer because of it, so what difference would it make?" Mary replied and walked to the canteen for some coffee consigning Matthew and Tamara to their fates. * * * * * * * * * * * Wednesday 12th April, 2006 - 3:08pm Luing Advanced Laboratories, Scotland "Clamps .. come on, come ON - pass me those clamps damn it! I need to finish this now!" the surgeon said irritably while he waiting for the nurse to get the necessary instruments. It had been a long, and hard day, and he just wanted to get this final insert finished and then he could rest. He had just started work on replacing the girls damaged liver and was anxious to see how it worked out. When the clamping and stitching had been finished he walked out of the operating theatre and removed his outer garments and started to wash his face and hands. Mary came in behind him and took away her mask. "I'm sorry I snapped at you Mary" he said as he knew his treatment to her had been unfair. "It is so frustrating, I just cannot understand why she rejected that first liver. It had, after all, been grown from cells taken from her own body so there should have been no problems!" he said with exasperation and slumped in the chair. "It was a good job we grew two of everything needed" Mary said, "it would have set us back four months otherwise". "I know, and that's why I'm so tense. If this fails like the last one then we have to start again. We will just have to wait and see how Clive's suggestion pans out. I only hope the local hormone treatment we applied will help the body to accept the liver - it was quite inspirational the way he predicted the abnormal hormonal activity within the abdominal area following his earlier experience with the male patient. He suspects it's due to the loss of the ovaries. That estrogen and progesterone solution seemed to bring the abdominal hormonal level to that of the liver we transplanted, and Clive said he will set up a drip to stabilise the rest of the body so it's the same. We cannot afford to have these problems with the rest of her transplants". Mary relaxed for a moment and sighed. "I hear that the male patient, back in Oban, is making good progress after the initial setback". Andrew sighed with her, it seemed it was contagious, as he thought back to the Oban centre - it had been some weeks since he had been there, preferring to devote his attentions to the female patient who was far more seriously damaged. "Yes, all is going well now. It was strange that he had a similar rejection problem until they managed to graft on the new penis and testicles. As soon as they started filling the body with testosterone the earlier transplant problems seemed to cease. That is why I am so keen to replace the females ovaries and womb again - it should speed along her recovery significantly if the males experience is anything to go by". "Everything we are doing is new and a challenge but, by God!, it's good to be on the leading edge isn't it" he said more to himself more than anyone else, and didn't really expect an answer. * * * * * * * * * * * Friday 27th October, 2006 - 6:43am Oban Research Facility, Scotland The first thing that she became aware was the throbbing, and heavy feeling she had about her head. She squinted as she tried to shield her eyes from the bright light that seemed to be burning into her. Everything seemed to blur as she gradually grew accustomed to the light but she wasn't able to identify the bobbing and moving images she could see in front of her. She let out more of a whimper than a groan but it seemed, to her , to becoming from somebody else and she lapsed back into the long sleep from which she had just awoken from for the first time in over a year. * * * * * * * * * * * Sunday 29th October, 2006 - 8:14am Oban Research Facility, Scotland She first became aware of a sound, then a light and then a series of moving shapes. Her experience still had a surreal quality about it but this time, she was determined to hang onto it and not let it go. She vaguely remembered a similar occurrence but lost the thought as she recognised someone talking. "Matthew .. Matthew, can you hear me" it said. That thought alone seemed to take hours to filter into her consciousness and when it did she was still confused! "Matthew, why are they talking to Matthew - what's happened to him" she thought and tried to say something but her throat only gave a slight dry heave. "Here have this" a voice said and she felt her head lifting slightly, and a gloriously cool liquid making it's way down her throat. This time, when she tried to speak, a recognisable noise came out. "Wh .. what, what has happened to me" she croaked as the memories of thirteen months ago started to make their presence felt. She remembered the aircraft spiralling and the awful metallic tang of burning wiring that, she knew, would remain with her for the rest of her days. Amongst these thoughts came the realisation that there was an undefinable difference about her voice that went beyond the dryness she was experiencing. She also felt something different about her whole being but couldn't place it. Her efforts exhausted her and she, again, fell into a welcome sleep. * * * * * * * * * * * Thursday 24th January, 2008 - 2:24pm Luing Advanced Laboratories, Scotland Matthew's awakening was far steadier than h