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Girl-e (Parts 1&2) by Paul1954 Part 1. Man On A Mission! Part 2. A Wolf In Ewe's Clothing Part 3. From Haven To Hell Part 4. A Voice From The Past Part 5. A Sheep in Sheep's Clothing Part 6. Currently in progress Part 1. Man On A Mission! Prologue The dark and heavily built man could barely manage to hide his distaste at the sight of the effeminate looking boy that he had just passed the package to, although as far as he was concerned he certainly couldn't be called a man - not by any stretch of the imagination. He noted the look of excitement in the boys eyes as held what he knew he considered to be his salvation and gave a wry smile to himself because he was right, after a fashion, after all! He knew that soon after taking the contents of this package that all of his troubles would, indeed, soon be over, that was for sure, and the world would be better off for being rid of yet another deviant and that he would be somewhat richer. Win win! The boy held the small vial and looked at the faint green glow that emanated from the liquid, hardly able to stop himself from screwing in the needle and plunging it in his arm there and then. He handed over the fifteen thousand that he had begged, stolen, and borrowed, and eyed his prize longingly, causing his 'saviour' a moment of concern, albeit a selfish one. "Now don't go using that now, it'll take a while before the major effects kick in, but you'll start feeling different within an hour after taking it. It can take people in different ways so make sure you're somewhere that you can ride out whatever happens!" he said, just wanting to make sure that the boy would be far away from here, and that what happened next would not be associated with him. He had just one more 'client' to deliver to tonight and then he could be away and start off somewhere else, somewhere that wasn't so close to home. He knew that if he pushed his luck then he would get caught eventually, and his inner sense told him that it would be soon. "O..okay" the boy replied, not even noticing that the man he had trusted with his money was walking away, and out of the deserted warehouse. He called out, after him, not even taking his eyes from the vial: "Wait! How do I know this'll work?" but noticed, as he looked up, that he was on his own. He put the vial back in the package and set off to his small and dingy flat that was only ten minutes walk away. It was all he could do to stop himself running, such was his desperation to inject the fluid into himself, but he slowed down anyway, just in case he fell and something happened to his prize. Eight minutes later he was stepping over the discarded burger boxes that littered the entrance floor, and ignored the graffiti strewn walls as he turned the key in his single lock door and stepped inside. He pulled of his outer coat with trembling fingers and stripped off the short sleeved shirt that he had worn, just in case he had wanted to inject himself earlier. He looked at his chest, and the small budding breasts that had stopped their development months ago, and screwed the needle into the vial and wondered what they would look like once the fluid had done its work. He dreamed of a normal life, normal for a girl that was, as he searched for a raised vein and winced as the needle entered his arm. It took about twenty seconds for the vials contents to fully enter his body and his sighed, throwing the syringe into a waste bin as he sat down and loosened his clothing as instructed. It had seemed like forever but it could only have been thirty minutes or so, when he felt a deep chill descend over him and he felt his face start to ache. He gave a smile as he knew that this must be the effects of the GRL-E solution, and knowing that his life-long ambition was about to be achieved. His clutched his breasts in nervous anticipation, searching for the first sign of a change, and hoping that the rest of the transformation process wouldn't be as painful as what he had felt so far, and then blacked out as the ache in his face intensified. * * * * * * * "Sarge, here's that report you asked for, the one on the latest victim. He - she was quite a looker, I suppose. Far too pretty to be a man". I took the file from him without turning around, opened the folder, and sighed. There were three pictures staring back at me. One was of a teenage boy. He looked like any other boy of nineteen, except that he was rather effete, and there was something about him I recognised that marked him out as different. Most people maybe wouldn't have been aware of it but I was - I had seen enough of this within my own family so that I couldn't possibly fail to see the signs. The second picture confirmed this, being that of a pretty teenage girl who bore a striking resemblance to the teenage boy in the first one. Again, I suppose, most people would not have noticed anything unusual about her if they only paid her a casual glance but I could tell. Again, I knew the signs. The give-away was the slightly tapering jaw-line, effeminate on a man but too masculine to be a girl's, and the choker that was obviously hiding the Adams apple. Still, this boy was - had been - one of the luckier ones. He was, at least, very passable. My eyes moved across to the third picture and, despite my years of training, I could still feel the bile rising in my throat as I took in the misshapen and deformed shape that would never stare back at anyone again. This one was an abomination and a mockery of a human being - half girl and half nothing. The twisted and swollen lips only hinted at the agony he must have gone through in his futile quest to become fully female. I threw the file down in disgust and massaged the muscles on the back of my neck, trying to ease the tension that had built up there, as DC Ainsworth sat down next to me. "I don't know Sarge, what makes them want to do such a thing? Why would they risk their life and everything just to become a girl"? I turned around and stared at him, seeing him pull back sharply at the intensity of my gaze. "You're out of your depth here, it's not something they want Ainsworth, it's something they ARE, and it's something they HAVE to do. Nobody would choose to take such a risk if they weren't desperate". "Okay, okay! I'm sorry!" he said, holding up his hands, "it's just that they must know about the risks after all the public announcements that we've made, and yet they still go ahead and do it. That's the third death in as many weeks"! "And there have also been at least two, so it's rumoured, where the change has been successful. That's why they do it. The chance to be female - fully female in every way - is worth more than life itself to them. For that a 50/50 chance is acceptable" I replied and fished in my pocket for some odd coins and dropped them in Ainsworth's hands. "Now go and get me some coffee. I need to think for a moment," I said, effectively dismissing him for a short while. I heard him leave and then felt guilty at the brusque way I had treated him. Ainsworth, Phil, was a promising assistant and, at only twenty-four, some twenty years my junior. Still, he'd learn and, besides, this case had become very personal to me; too personal some might say. How was Phil supposed to guess that I had spent nearly all of my life watching my young brother Terry, struggle with exactly the same problem as these unfortunate victims of their own gender. How was Phil to know that Terry had twice attempted to take his own life rather than face the prospect of spending the rest of his days with a useless piece of meat, as he saw it, hanging between his legs. It was only the love of his family, and by that I mean myself, that had seen him through those dark days - that and his visits to the Beaufort Clinic. I thought he was coming to terms with whatever it was he thought he was but then, just four years ago, the new miracle wonder drug 'B/GRL-E', an offshoot from experiments to find a cure for cancer, was discovered that would supposedly 'cure' this 'affliction'. This it would do by genetically altering its taker's form from either male to female, or female to male. For someone like Terry, who believed that he was a woman trapped in a male body, it had been like a dream come true. Early hopes were soon dashed however, when its inventor was later jailed for not following correct procedures after a volunteer, the son of a cabinet minister, died during testing. No further development had ever taken place after that, with any subsequent applications for a license to continue further development, turned down. The scandal had been too great and it was deemed to be too dangerous, although many felt it was a political, rather than a medical, decision. It had all gone quiet after this, although there was a record number of suicides reported from those who had hoped to benefit from the drug. That was until recently. An unknown group had been claiming to have re-discovered 'B/GRL-E', or a derivative of it, and had been offering it on the black market to those willing to pay ?15,000 to become a real female, rather than a surgical reconstruction. They knew that there would be plenty of takers, the earlier enthusiasm during the initial trials, had proved that, and they were right. The trouble was that for every success there was a tragedy, and there had now been a number of these horribly deformed deaths that was sending shockwaves throughout the TG community. Even knowing this though, there were still many who were willing to gamble with their lives in an attempt to achieve their life-long dream, and this had been another of their victims. They had to be stopped before this went any further and more lives were ruined. "Sarge - there's been another one found down by Shaky's. I'll get down there straight away" Ainsworth called out behind me, as he barged back into the office. "Not so fast - I'm coming with you" I said, grabbing my jacket and joining him as we ran to my car. This time I wanted to see the scene of the crime myself. It only took fifteen minutes to get there through the unusually sparse traffic of the City, and we were soon approaching a cordoned off area outside of Shaky's nightclub, where there were three policemen in attendance. I flashed them my ID and motioned for them to step aside as I looked at the covered up body lying huddled on the floor. Another one! God, where would this all end? I started to pull back the cover and saw he/she, or whatever you might call it now, was wearing a pair of loose fitting track-suit bottoms and trainers and as I peeled back the cover further, I could see that they had a top to match. The body was lying face down but I could see that it had light sandy hair and, just for a moment, I felt my heart stop as it reminded me of... I swear; everything stopped moving around me as I reached out and turned the body over to get a look at its face. I could feel a bizarre sense of detachment as I looked at the poor sod, and I knew that my worst fear was recognised. Even though the face was deformed and misshapen there was no doubt as to whom this was. It was my brother. "Terry"! * * * * * * * I didn't return home until late that night, and I hoped that Louise would be in bed because I really wasn't in the mood for one of the regular spats that we had, usually after I had been working too long and too late. It had taken quite a while for Terry's body to be photographed, examined, and finally moved to the morgue, whilst I had tried to maintain my professionalism and detachment. It was the only way I could cope with my grief through the shock, although I knew that I would pay for it later - probably through my nightmares! I took off my suit and the new shoes that had given me such agony over the last two days, and went to get the bottle of single malt scotch that I kept by, for when I needed some immediate release. I poured out a glass and sat down, feeling a trickle of moisture run down my cheeks, and a choking sensation that the scotch soon eased. I heard a call from upstairs but didn't answer it, and just poured myself another glass - hoping that it would give the gift of oblivion, not caring about the effect it would have on me tomorrow. I was hurting too much now to care about that. * * * * * * * "Bill, I'm sorry - I didn't know he was your brother. How are you coping"? I looked at the chief, giving him no hint of my emotions. "Yeah - well he'd always been a problem but I loved him, and now it's all over for him, and maybe for others too unless we can track down the bastards that did this!" I answered, nearly spitting out the words such was the anger that I felt. "Well that's partly what I wanted to talk to you about. Look, I know it's hard but I'm taking you off the case. You're too close to it now and I just can't risk having you involved, both for your sake and mine. Why don't you take the next week off - you know, help your family with the arrangement and things" he said, as if giving me advice, but I knew he was giving me an order. There was no point in arguing and remonstrating. I had been expecting this and, in reality, there was little else he could do. I just stood and walked calmly out before going back to my desk to collect a few things I thought I would need and then left for home. I would take a week off all right, but I wouldn't be doing the family thing, there were plenty of others available to do that. No, I wanted to nail the bastards that took Terry, and I would do it any way I could. It didn't take long for me to find what I needed, and after taking copies of the files from my cabinet that I would need, I set off for home, grateful that Ainsworth was off duty at this time. At least I wouldn't have to explain what I was doing with this stuff. It didn't take me too long to get there, one of the advantages of living in the city, and I was soon going through the hallway and calling out for Louise and getting no reply, to my relief. That thought held me up short for a moment as I realised that I was beginning to feel like this more often recently, and I knew that this wasn't healthy, not healthy for us anyway. I rationalised this by telling myself that I just wanted to get onto tracking down whoever murdered Terry, but I knew that this wasn't the only reason. I resolved to make a special effort to get back to how it was with Louise, but that would have to wait until after I had finished my special business. I quickly changed out of my working suit and put on something more casual as I scattered the files out on the dining room table and started sorting through them. Along with the official records were my own private notes - the ones I kept that I didn't necessarily want others to have access to. Not for any wrong reason mind, it was just that these were private, and contained things that it might be better that others did not know. I sat there for a few minutes, not able to make any sense of what I was looking through, or even knowing what I was expecting to see that I hadn't seen already a hundred times. I just felt the need to do something, something other than just sit here and mourn. I carried on sorting through them and noticed a loose sheet of paper that I had overlooked before. I picked it up and saw a scribbled number that I had once kept, just after Terry had tried his first attempt at suicide. As I stared at it I had one of those moments of inspiration and all of a sudden the bare bones of a plan had started to form in my mind. I felt almost possessed as I pulled my mobile out of my pocket and dialled the number that was on the paper and was rewarded after just three rings. "The Beaufort Clinic," a bright and cheerful female voice answered. "Is Doctor Bradshaw available please. It's rather urgent". "I'm afraid that Doctor Bradshaw is with a client at the moment. Would it be possible for you to call later"? I wondered what other poor unfortunate she was treating and had a brief vision of another semi-deformed half-female victim laid out on a slab. Yet another one of life's cruel jokes, I thought. "I really need to talk to her urgently I'm afraid" I said, speaking with a little more authority this time. "Can you get her to call me back as soon as she's finished" I said, and gave my contact details. It would save her time looking, and time was something I didn't want to waste. I had just one week to break this, and that was something that I had singularly failed to do with all the resources I had available to me, in my professional capacity. I had a brief moment of self-doubt but soon shook this off. Sometimes it could be easier to work outside the official confines that might restrict me with codes of conduct and procedures. I was kidding myself though of course, and I knew that my job would be on the line if I stepped to far over it. I was happy to do so though because this was personal - I was a man on a mission - a mission to see those who killed my brother brought to justice! * * * * * * * The rest of the day had seemed to drag by as I waited for the call, and was only punctuated by Louise coming home, and by a call from Ainsworth. Louise had gone as quickly as she had arrived, muttering something about going out shopping or something with a girl friend, I'm afraid I wasn't really paying much attention. Ainsworth had rung to give me the usual condolences and the obligatory offer of "anything I can do to help - just ask". There wasn't anything of course, or at least I hadn't thought so at the time, but I thanked him anyway and waited for Doctor Bradshaw to call back. Finally, two hours after my call, my mobile rang and I heard the voice of a woman, whom I recognised as that of the good doctor's. I explained about why I had called, and how I thought that she'd liked to know about Terry, and I could almost feel her shock and disappointment, but she remained coolly professional. She started to close up a little when I asked whether I could have a copy of Terry's case files. She knew what my job was, and she cited patient confidentiality as a reason for not letting me have them, having an ingrained distrust for my profession I knew. She had had too many 'patients' with too many bad experiences from my colleagues to be objective about it, but when I told her I wanted them not as a police officer but as a brother, she started to soften her stance a little. "Please Doctor. This is very personal to me" I pleaded. "Terry must have told you that I always supported him - sometimes I was the only one that did. I always wanted what was the best for him - he must have told you that" I pleaded! "Well yes, he always seemed to have a lot of affection for you. He said that you were the only one who ever really tried to understand his feelings," she admitted. "Well then, surely there must be something you can do. I..it is important to me" I said, my voice starting to break with genuine emotion. All I got back from her was an empty silence. I knew that I was losing her and was desperate to get something from her. I needed the edge she could give me. "Well what about if you maybe let me look at them rather than take copies. Honestly, I wouldn't ask you if didn't need to see them" I followed up, and sensed her starting to weaken. "Well - I have got an appointment for tomorrow that's been cancelled. If you could visit me at eleven o'clock I could give you an hour" she conceded. "Okay, but I insist you let me treat you to lunch afterwards. It's the least I can do" I said, trying to keep the satisfaction I felt hidden. "Come along at eleven and we'll see" she replied, but I knew that take up my offer - I could tell it in her voice. * * * * * * * "Hello Doctor Bradshaw" I said, standing up and offering her my hand, as she walked out of her office to greet me. I'd expected to see some middle-aged and utterly professional but well-meaning woman, maybe a touch on the homely side, but she was far from it. Oh, she was middle-aged all right, and looked to be in her early forties but nothing else about her was as I had imagined it to be. Her shoulder length blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail, emphasising her slender neck that leg down towards, what I could see - even beneath her blouse -were, her delicate shoulders, supporting what were an inviting pair of breasts. "Mr Cartwright, or should I say Detective Sargeant Cartwright?" she said, her eyes showing a degree of hostility that broke through my appreciation of her. I was going to have my work cut out here, and would have to use all the Cartwright charm I could muster if I was going to get what I wanted. "Today I'm just Bill Cartwright, Brother of Terry. I'm not here in any official capacity, although I've got to confess that I wish I were. I'd do anything to see these murdering bastards brought to book"! I could see a look of apprehension on her face now, having replaced the previous look of malice, and I wondered if I'd gone too far too soon as she turned around and told me follow her. I walked into her office, resolving to control myself a little better in the future. I wasn't probing a crime scene now, or interrogating a miscreant, and I'd better start remembering that pretty damn quick! I immediately started to try and make amends as she indicated towards a table, which contained a series of files, neatly laid out. "I'm sorry for that outburst but, well - Terry meant everything to me, and I..I'm finding this a little hard to take in what's happened to him," I said, my voice starting to break again. I could her face soften a little and hoped that I had started to redress the balance of the earlier bad impression that I had made. "I..I can understand," she said, looking a little awkward herself now. "I'll ask Janet - the receptionist" she said, answering my unspoken query, "to organise some refreshment while you start whatever it is you want to do. Will coffee do"? "Black without would be fine" I said gratefully, and then turned to start examining the files in front of me, all thought of the delectable Doctor Bradshaw having gone. I don't know how much time had passed but I ploughed through the files, reading details of Terry's thoughts, desires, needs, and of his desperation to become as female as it was possible to make him. It described how this wasn't some recent thing, something he had felt once he'd grown up, but that he had always felt himself to be in the wrong body, even as a child. Although Terry had spoken to me about this on many occasions, about how he had felt, it had only been as an adult and it was a completely different proposition to read what he had spoken of to the Doctor. I had never seen his soul bared so openly before and realised that he had only ever revealed just a fraction of how he had felt to me. The next thing I knew was that Doctor Bradshaw had returned and had put her hand on my shoulder to gain my attention, causing me to start. "Sar..Mr. Cartwright - was the coffee not to your liking?" she asked, and I looked down to see that a cup had been placed next to me at some point, and that I had not even noticed it! "Oh - sorry. I..I was reading these notes and I.." I said, removing my glasses and rubbing my eyes as she stopped me going any further. "Yes - I know. It's tragic, isn't it!" she interrupted, and then moved around to face me. "The murder or his life?" I asked as I looked into her eyes, knowing what she was referring to but still having to ask the question. There was a definite pause from her this time as if she had realised that maybe things were not quite as clear cut as she had hoped they might be. "Well both I suppose. I was referring to his life and all the suffering that he had to live through but, there again, his death was pretty tragic as well"! It was a defining moment between us, where I recognised that she could admit that she did not have all the answers, and I had proved to her that I had a heart, despite my profession. It was no problem getting her to finally agree to allow me to take her to lunch. The lunch had been a meeting of minds, well - of sorts, and she had stopped thinking of my official capacity by the time I had bought her coffee. She even delayed her next appointment by fifteen minutes, just so that she could answer a few final questions about Terry's condition. By the time that we had finished she had agreed to let me take Terry's case notes so that I could get my own copy, although she was a little hesitant and asked me why I needed to go into it any further. I fobbed her off with my grieving brother excuse, although what I felt was genuine enough, I just didn't want her to know the real reasons because I wasn't so sure that she would have been so friendly if she knew my intentions. I went with the notes secure in my case and a new spring in my step. The earlier inspiration that I had had - those bare bones of a plan - was now starting to take on some flesh and I knew what my next course of action was going to be. * * * * * * * I had returned home about an hour and a half after leaving the clinic and returned to the table where I had spread out all my notes the previous day. I was a little surprised that Louise hadn't tidied them away, she had always been so houseproud, but on reflection it was in keeping with her mood of late. She seemed to have started letting things go to pot lately, as if she had lost interest in the place, but I knew that it wasn't really the place that was the problem - it was me! I thought again for a moment, about how we had gradually drifted apart over the last two years, and I knew that it was just as much my fault as it was hers. I always seemed to have something to do, some reason for coming home late, and maybe she had finally gotten fed up with the whole situation. Another thought leapt into the forefront of my mind as I wondered if she wasn't having an affair - she was always out during the day now, and maybe she had found herself another man! I felt ashamed momentarily as I knew that I should have been more bothered by these thoughts but, truth was, I had other things on my mind right now which most probably summed up how I really felt about it all. I turned my attention back to the scattered papers and then took out my notebook, finding a well-thumbed page and identifying the number that I was looking for. I picked up my phone, dialled out the number, and then waited. Five rings later I heard the voice that I had been waiting for. "Hello - who is it"? "Charlie, it's me - Bill Cartwright. How are you" I replied, trying to put as much sincerity into my voice as I could manage. "Oh, I wondered when you'd be calling me again. What do you want"? "Charlie, Charlie - I don't think that I like your tone. Don't forget that you still owe me for convincing them not to press charges after that incident with the under-age boy. It's people like you who give people like my brother a bad name. Now I'd suggest that you help me out here if you know what's good for you" I said, giving a clear hint of menace to my voice, which I knew he'd pick up on. "Oh - yeah - I was sorry to hear about Terry. I guess he was desperate, but then so are a lot of others in his situation". "And I'm sure that you know a few others who are just as desperate as Terry was, and that's where I think you can help me. I've got to admit though, I'm surprised that you haven't gone for the drug yourself, despite the risks". "Not everyone's got fifteen thousand in their back pockets or purse 'Sargeant', despite how desperate they might be. I'm not interested though, I'm fairly happy with how I am thanks very much"! I shook my head, finding it hard to understand how someone like Charlie could ever be content to sit where he was in no man's land, neither one thing nor the other, but then what do I know? "Down to business then Charlie. Let's say that you knew someone that was really desperate and had the money, and that this someone was also willing to take a risk to achieve his ambition but didn't know how to get in touch with the right people. Would you be able to help them?" I asked, expectantly. I got nothing but an empty silence as a response, which told me that my hunch was correct. "Come on Charlie - your silence is speaking volumes. Tell me"! "Look Sargeant, if the community ever found out I had let on that I knew who was doing this then I'd be ostracised. I just can't tell you. Besides, I'm finding it hard to believe that the ones I know would be involved in anything like these deaths - it must be someone else doing it". I could hear the panic in his voice and could imagine him squirming, as he tried to think of a way to wriggle out of the commitment that I was putting him under. I decided to apply a little more pressure. "Just let me do the thinking Charlie, and I think you'd better wise up fast Charlie - life in prison for someone like you would be hell on earth, especially if they know that you've been corrupting minors. I just don't understand you, or the others like you. You've got someone who's slowly robbing you and then leaving some of your best friend's dead, and in the most horrible way imaginable. Why do you lot put up with it"? "Oh, you'd never understand, and I don't ever expect you to" he almost spat at me, "there are still some that have been successful, and even if there's only been a few it gives the others hope. Anyway, he wasn't a minor - he was seventeen ". "Doing what you were doing to him he was still a minor, in the eyes of the law" I replied, but also remembering the lecture that I had given Ainsworth and thought about how very much Charlie's outburst reminded me of what I had said myself. "Anyway" I continued, "I asked you a question. Are you going to answer it or do I have to release some more information to the authorities, information that won't be to your advantage"? There was another pause as he considered his options and then, finally, saw sense. "Well, maybe I can arrange an introduction but tell me, this 'someone', is it anyone I know?" he asked me. I gave a wry smile as I answered him. "I think you just might Charlie boy. In fact I think you might know him just a little bit too well for your liking. Just get me the contact details and then we're quits, and I'll not bother you again". The pause was just that little bit longer this time and I could almost hear him putting all the pieces of the jigsaw in place. Finally, it all clicked for him. "Wh..what - you mean to tell me that you're talking about yourself. Christ - it must run in the bloody family or something"! * * * * * * * After I had put the phone down I waited a minute, deciding on my next course of action before picking it up and dialling again. "Ainsworth - I need your help" I said as I heard his familiar voice. "Sarge - is that you? How are you doing"? "Okay I suppose, but listen - I've got a lead on the murdering bastards that killed my brother and, as I said, I need your help". "But I thought you were told that you were off the base. The chief will go ballistic if he finds out that..". "Shut up Ainsworth and listen. I'm arranging a meeting with the people that I think are peddling the B/GRL-E drug and I'm going to need some backup. I'll contact you when I've got some more details and we can sort out the logistics then. Just don't let me down" I finished and then hung up before he could make any more protests. I knew that what I was doing was wrong but I didn't really care. I could make my apologies later if I had to. For now though, I knew that I was getting closer - I could almost smell them - and everything else came second. * * * * * * * "Okay then Charlie - how much longer am I going to have to be here before you deliver?" I said, starting to get impatient and wanting some action. "Look, you're just going to have to wait until they're ready. This isn't exactly a doctor's surgery that you're in you know Bill" he replied, and then started walking away. I nearly called out to him about using my name in the way that he had, and the lack of respect that it implied, but I suppose he couldn't have really called me by my official title. If he had been overheard using that then this place would have emptied in minutes, and that would have done nobody any good at all. Besides, the truth was he was right. I hadn't really been here that long - it just felt that way. I looked around the club at some of some of its other denizens and tried to imagine how it must have felt to really feel like they did, and not just playing a role like I was. I had used the last two days whilst Charlie was trying to set up this meeting to go through the comprehensive notes that Doctor Bradshaw had let me borrow, and to try and get myself prepared to impersonate a genuine transsexual 'patient' wishing to be transformed. It had proved to be hard - very hard, and not only trying to get myself inside the head of a transsexual, but also because it was so personal. It was my brother's life that I was using as a prop after all! I had persevered though and I just hoped that what I had learnt, and the fictional case studies I had prepared for myself, were now accurate enough to pass muster. I had been sure, last night, that I had immersed myself into the role enough to be confident but then Louise had managed to get me to break the character I had created and that's what was giving me these doubts. It had started when I had returned home from a walk to the park. I had gone to clear my head and give myself a break from nearly two solid days of reading and remembering. I had been gone nearly two hours and in that time Louise had returned home, cooked a half-decent meal, and then changed into something that can only be described as seductive. I was a bit nonplussed at first, she hadn't been like this with me in a long time, but I just went along with whatever it was that she was up to. To be honest, it was nice to communicate with her again - it had been just like old times and, of course, we ended up in bed together and were soon at it like two teenagers, eager to end their virginity. I still haven't figured out what prompted this behaviour, but I wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth although, as I said, it was an effort for me to get back into character for today after what had happened. Still - here I was and by the time I had thought things through I could see Charlie returning. I kept silent as he sat down next to me and ordered a drink. "Okay Bill, they're just about ready now so in ten minutes time you've got to walk through that door over there and then it's down to you" he said, indicating to wooden door bearing the legend 'Private', situated next to the bar. I simply nodded to acknowledge that I had understood his instructions and then finished off the large Gin and Tonic I had been drinking. "I just hope that you've got your routine down though, 'Bill'. If you haven't and you get rumbled then it would cause me more than just a few problems around these parts. I'd never get trusted again!" he said quietly his breath as he stared me in the eyes. My gaze never wavered for a second as I met his stare. "My heart bleeds for you Charlie, my heart just bleeds. Just don't forget who's kept you out of jail you queer bastard!" I spat, the tension making me more aggressive than I should have been, and getting more than a little pissed off by his too familiar tone. It made me feel somehow, that he thought it put me on a level with him and I wasn't having that! He stood up, his eyes burning with anger and turned to walk away, only pausing to turn back and look at me for the last time as he composed himself. "Then that's us quits I think 'Bill'" he said, and then blew me a kiss as he turned on his heels. I calmed myself, knowing that carrying this anger into my forthcoming meeting would do me no favours, and by the time I had slowed my rapidly beating heart the ten minutes had passed. I got up from the table and took a deep breath before walking casually towards the door, with my attach? case clutched close to my chest. I saw a couple of inquisitive glances as I opened the door and entered. They were most probably wondering what I might look like once I had been transformed - that is if they were aware of what was going on here. I ignored them though, for I was eager now to complete phase 1 of my plan. I took one look outside of the window onto the street and noted that Ainsworth was still there, smoking his cigarette and reading his paper, as he tried to appear casual. I knew that he had two others from the team with him and put my hand on my mobile, which was programmed to automatically dial his number when I pressed any button. I had bought it for him only yesterday, just to make sure that no one else would be dialling him. He was a good man - I knew that he'd come through for me. Once I got inside the door I saw a small staircase illuminated by just a dim light. It looked just like any other seedy little dive and I was almost disappointed that there was no one there to greet me as I started up the steps. It didn't remain that way though, for as I turned the corner at the top I saw a small hallway with yet another door there and this time, it was guarded by a large gorilla like man who, I knew, was probably there as the hired muscle. I hardly broke stride as I continued along the hallway and he opened the door and stepped aside as he watched me enter. The room inside was still a little dingy but I could make out two men sitting behind a desk, just like a doctor might in a bona-fide office. "Clement - Clem Dawson!" the nearest one said to me, and I had to remember for a brief moment, that this was the fake identity that I had made up for myself, just for this occasion. I nodded and was told to sit down in the seat on my side of the desk. Clem Dawson was an identity that I had used in a fraud case once, a couple of years back, and still had the fake, but entirely convincing, documentation that I had used at the time. Birth certificate, passport, driving license - they were all still eminently usable and I had now added to them with a complete set of medical records that I had arranged to have copied from Terry's case notes. I had decided to use his persona because Charlie had warned me that these men were thorough, and that I would need to be able to prove that I was a genuine case for their 'treatment' before they would agree to 'help' me. This would be where Terry's case history would help. I needed a similar history to his so I called in some favours from some of my darker contacts whom I knew who be able to assist me at short notice, and asked them to dummy up an identical report to Terry's. By this morning I had everything I needed to convince anyone that I was Clem Dawson, already under consideration for SRS, and a patient of Doctor Bradshaw, specialist in gender identification problems. The second man, who had short and thinning sandy coloured hair, then looked up from the note pad that he had been writing in when I had arrived and looked at me closely. "The documentation please" he said, holding out his hand towards me, and I put down my attach? case and unzipped it, pulling out the folder I had carefully prepared. He took it from me and started going through the files, and I watched him take my driving license and compare the photograph with that of the one on my passport. I wasn't worried though - those documents had served me well in the past and would do so again. I then saw him pick up the medical file that had been created for me, the one stating that I was genuine case for sexual reassignment treatment, and this time he was taking longer, pausing over some of the details. The first man had been staring at me all this time, and I felt like something on a meat slab as his eyes looked all over my face, and I felt a bead of sweat start to form on my brow. I felt a sudden feeling of shame wash over me, wondering what they were thinking about at the man that they were looking at, who the file said wanted to be a girl, and wanting to tell them that this was all some elaborate hoax, but I held my tongue. "All right then Clement. I would just like to ask you a few questions and then we can get down to business - that is, if you still want to!" the man with the files asked me. I didn't pause this time - I wanted them to think that I was desperate. "Oh I still want to all right - I don't think that I can going on living this lie any longer!" I said in a wavering voice, trying to picture how Terry must have felt and the tears that started welling up in my eyes at that point needed no faking. The two men looked at each other and came to an unspoken agreement before the first one looked back at me. "Have you got the money"? "I've got it - fifteen thousand pounds in used notes" I said, handing over a tied up bundle of bank notes, my heart pounding. I had drawn it out from the bank this morning, from our joint savings account, and it constituted nearly everything that we had in the world. I just hoped that this was going to work out okay else I would be in trouble in more ways than one! "Fifteen?" he queried, "that is far too much. We're only trying to cover our costs and have enough left over to continue the research. We're only asking for eight - didn't you know that"! Something wasn't quite right. Thinking back, Charlie hadn't specified any amount of money because I had told him that I knew what the going rate was and I had been working that out on the basis of what we knew from the other cases, but I couldn't believe that this had almost halved! Also, these people were not quite what I had expected to find. They did not come across as heartless exploiters and callous killers, they were far too professional in their approach for that, and I felt confused for a moment as they passed back seven thousand pounds to me. I was desperately trying to think of something to say. "So wh..when do I get the treatment?" I asked, trying to stall for time, but then felt a stabbing pain in my neck. I spun around quickly to see the man, whom I had assumed was a bodyguard, pulling a hypodermic syringe away from me, and then a feeling of dizzyness overwhelmed me as whatever he had given me started to take effect. "W..what was that?" I asked, turning around to see the sandy haired man putting the documentation back in my attach? case, and the money in his own. "But surely they told you" he said, looking surprised, "we administer the treatment almost immediately - it's part of the deal. First though, we're taking you to our laboratories whose location we'd rather keep secret, that's why you've been given a quick acting sedative so you can't see where we're going". My head started to feel heavy and I had a brief vision of some of the other victims of this gang, knowing that I could well end-up in a similar fashion as some half-man, half-woman freak if I was fortunate, or maybe that should be unfortunate, enough to survive! I was finding it hard to control my hand as the heaviness spread throughout my body, and I fumbled as I tried to find my pocket as I tried to find my mobile phone, knowing that I only had to press one button to get a signal out to Ainsworth. Before I could manage though, I felt the large man holding me up, to stop me from hurting myself if I fell, and then darkness claimed me. * * * * * * * Ainsworth put down his paper and checked his watch. It had been nearly thirty minutes since he had seen Bill Cartwright go through that door and he had been waiting for the call ever since, and he was starting to regret letting himself get talked into this. Maybe he should just go in and check out what was happening in there because if he stood in this place too much longer he was sure that he was going to take root! It was while he was contemplating his next course of action that it was decided for him, as his official mobile phone rang. He pressed the green phone symbol and held it to his ear. "Ainsworth". "Ainsworth - control here. There's been another body found down by Canary Wharf and it's still fresh. Get down there right away and the DI will see you when you get there". "Roger" he replied and disconnected the call. He looked up at the building where Bill Cartwright had entered and sighed to himself. If they had found another one, and it was recent, then Bill must have bet on the wrong lead and made a mistake. Besides, he hadn't called him yet so there couldn't be too much happening in there! He decided that he had better get to Canary Wharf on the double, after all - duty calls. He had done everything that he could here and could explain what had happened when he spoke to Bill later. He went back to his car around the corner, jumped in and fired up the ignition. Moments later he was on his way as instructed. * * * * * * * I had no idea how long I had been out but I started to wake slowly, my head ringing like an empty oil-drum as a rattling metallic sound penetrated my consciousness. I couldn't make out what it was at first but gradually, the noise seemed to recede until I could make out that the clanging noise was that of surgical instruments being put down. I heard myself groan and then tried to move, but found that I had been restrained. I tried to look down but my head was too heavy and decided to relax for a moment and tried to think about where I could be. As I lay there I became of a coolness around my body and I guessed that I was naked, which a glance downward with my eyes, confirmed. I was also aware that there was somebody else in the room with me, a fact that was soon confirmed to me by the sound of approaching footsteps. The next thing I knew a shadow was passing across my which slowly came into focus. I was looking into the face of the man with the sandy coloured hair. "Ah good - you're coming around at last. I'm sorry that we had to put you out, because it wasn't medically necessary, but we have to protect our research and we'd prefer it if we could remain anonymous. I tried to say something but found that my mouth wouldn't follow my thoughts and all that came out was a mumbled groan, which was completely ignored by sandy. My brain started to clear again and I suddenly remembered why I was here, and also why I had met this man in the back room of that club. My flesh started to creep as I tried to look down at myself again, hoping - praying - that I was still male but still couldn't move my head. "Please, please - don't struggle. We're all finished now and all we have to do now is to get you somewhere where you can come to again, in your own time. I'm sorry that this has proved to be so expensive for you, but that is the price of being at the cutting edge of innovative research. Besides, I know for you that the end result will be cheap at the price. How can you put a price on realising a dream"? Something about this whole set-up was puzzling me and I remembered my earlier doubts when I had first introduced to these men. They just didn't seem to fit the profile of the low-life scum that I had expected to find. They seemed far too professional and, dare I say it, concerned about me once they had accepted me for their treatment and although they could have faked that easily enough, there was no reason for them to do so. I was completely at their mercy and they could have done with me what they wanted. I felt a pressure in my arm again that I recognised as being that of a needle and the sudden fear I felt momentarily broke through my muted state. "N..n...no - p..p..p..pl..e..as..e. I..I...I d..do..don't wa..wa..want to g.go a..ah..ahead" I managed to get out, and then sunk back in exhaustion. I saw sandy's face move in front of mine again and noted a slight look of concern. "Oh dear. Surely, you can't be telling me that you didn't want this treatment! Your records, you history - everything that you gave us indicated that you almost suicidal in your desperation to become female. Well I'm sorry but that wasn't the B/GRL-E that I just gave you. It was another sedative, just so that we can get you somewhere so you won't recognise where you've been". I relaxed a little when I heard that - I had thought that he was injecting me with the gender-changing compound at first but maybe there was still a chance that I could avoid that option. I listened to Sandy as he continued. "You see - it's not just a question of money, although B/GRL-E is not a cheap thing to produce..". Thank God, because I don't give a damn about that. They could keep the money if I can get out of this with my manhood intact! "..it's that you were given the injection that you really wanted just over an hour ago. If you've got any doubts now then I would suggest that you try and convince yourself that you they are just last minute nerves. It is too late to reverse the process now". I could swear that I could feel my heart stop beating as his words hit me like a death sentence. No - surely - he couldn't really mean what he had just said - could he! I felt myself slipping away into a welcome darkness this time, just about catching his finishing words before everything became dark. "Still - you mustn't forget some of the compensations of the side- effects of the change. Most notable of those will be regaining a large portion of your life as each cell is altered and renewed. I should think that you're going to something like twenty years of your life and physiologically, you're going to be more like a seventeen or eighteen year-old, rather than the middle-age that you're approaching now. Now don't worry. I'm ju......". * * * * * * * For the second time that day I woke up feeling like I had died, and if what I feared I would find was true, then maybe I'd have been better off if I had of done. I hardly dared open my eyes as I waited for an overpowering feeling of nausea to recede and when it finally did I lifted my arm, searching for something different that might have indicated my expected change. I tried to drive away the thoughts that were racing through my head. Thoughts about how I might look - how I might feel - how I would cope if I really found out that I had become female whilst I had been unconscious. Preferring action to prevarication I moved my hand down my body towards my chest and encountered - nothing. There were no bumps, no swellings, in fact nothing at all that I would have expected to find if the chemical I had been given had worked. My hands moved faster this time as they moved lower down my body, hoping to find the final proof that I was still a man. "Oh thank you - thank you God!" I cried as they connected and I found all my equipment intact. I then looked down towards my wrist and saw that my watch had been replaced. It had been five hours since I had last checked the time before I had been put out. All the previous victims of the drug had undergone their change shortly after they had taken it, and if that was the case then I figured that I must surely be safe by now. The only thing I felt at the moment, was a slight warmth but I put that down to the after-effects of the sedative. I was starting to believe that I had been the victim of some elaborate scam, and that the people I had seen were simply opportunists out to relieve a few queers out of fifteen thousand pounds. If that was the case then I had lost our life savings, but it was still better that than what might have been, I reasoned. I lifted myself off the bed I had been put on, waited for my head to clear and then got unsteadily to my feet. I looked around to see that I was in some small hotel room, hopefully not too far away from where I had first met those men. I then looked down at myself. I was fully dressed again, wearing the same clothes that I arrived in and even my wallet, containing twenty-five pounds, was still in my jacket's inner pocket, and the money was intact! I suddenly began to feel uneasy. Why would they go to such elaborate lengths, including injecting me, removing all my clothes, getting me dressed again, and then leaving me here, just to get the fifteen thousand pounds? They could easily have taken that from me without having to go through some elaborate charade! I looked around the room once again, all my senses now fully racing, and saw an envelope stuck to the tatty mirror over a basic, but functional, dressing table. I walked towards and saw that it was addressed to 'Sarge'. My heart sank as I realised that, somehow, my cover had been blown. I tore open the envelope and took out the note that it contained, and wished I had my reading glasses with me as I struggled to make out the small handwriting. Dear 'Sarge', Your last outburst as you received the sedative unnerved us, and fuelled my suspicions. It was highly unusual for a voluntary patient, one who is parting with a considerable amount of money to have a chance of realising their dreams, to practically beg us to stop the treatment. I searched your things and found your mobile phone in you jacket pocket. When I dialled the previously called last number I got through to someone who seemed to be expecting a call from a 'Sarge'. I hung up quickly, not wanting to be traced. I stopped reading for a moment, wondering what Ainsworth would have thought when he received a call that he would have assumed was from me, and then hearing nothing but silence when asking for me. I hoped that he'd tried to follow it up and look for me - that way he might have a slim chance of stumbling on my kidnappers. Strictly speaking though - these were no kidnappers, because I offered myself up to them like some kind of sacrificial lamb. I continued reading. It only took a few enquiries after that to find out your real identity and I cannot explain the feeling of disappointment we had when we did so. It is bad enough that you have prevented a genuine case form getting the treatment you have received, but also, we cannot afford to have our research affected by your interference, nor can we let mindless officialdom force us to close down. We will now to use your donation to go into hiding and re-build. Make the most of your life, whoever you will be. I read the note once more, and then again, before folding it up and placing in my jacket pocket, feeling pissed that the note was so cryptic. I didn't feel that concerned, knowing that I would have changed by now if what he had told me was true. No, I was more annoyed than anything, annoyed that I had so easily been caught out and had maybe blown my best chance of catching these murderers! I became aware that I was starting to feel warm again and decided I had stayed in this pokey little hole for long enough. I was craving some fresh air by now, so I left the room and went downstairs to check out with the balding little man behind what passed for a . I took an instant dislike to him as he sat there in his sleeveless jumper, striped shirt and crumpled trousers, smiling ingratiatingly towards me. "Ah, sir. You are ready to leave"? I nodded and told him the room number I had exited, and he fished around in an antiquated pigeon-hole and brought out a note. "It seems that the bill has already been settled sir. I hope your stay has been enjoyable," he said, and I felt a rush of anger, knowing that he was well aware that I had only been here a couple of hours and was probably baiting me. I decided to ignore him though, not wanting to make a scene, and walked outside and took a deep breath of fresh air before looking around to see if I could work out where I was. I recognised the location immediately and thought how ironic it was that they had left me just ten minutes walk away from my own home - or was it? I chose to believe the former and set off down the street towards the safety of my own home. I felt very unclean and just wanted to shower away the whole day out of my life, forever. I became increasingly warm as I walked along the quiet street and although it was a bright and sunny day it wasn't enough to make me feel this uncomfortable. Once again, I put it down to the after- effects of the sedative and finally got back to my house and found my wife, Louise, in the kitchen. It was a very surreal situation as she wasn't even aware that I wasn't working at the moment, and probably thought that the five or six hours that I had been out had been spent performing my usual job. It could have been like any other day as she turned around and saw me. Her response though, was anything but usual, at least it wasn't usual as of late, since our relationship seemed to have fallen apart! "Oh Hi darling!" she said, sounding surprised to see me there, and smiled to see me. "I wasn't too sure what time you were coming home so I left something there for you" she said, and showed me a covered plate that had been left on the side. "Oh, okay - just leave it there and I'll have it later, maybe" I answered, still feeling a little nauseous and thinking that food was the last thing that I wanted at this moment. A look of concern crept over her face and she walked over to me and put her arms around me. "Oh Bill - you know, last night I felt - well, just like we used to. I've been doing a lot of thinking about this and don't want to lose what we can still have together", she said as she stared into my eyes, her own seeking out an answer. I returned her embrace and enjoyed the chance to share a moment of togetherness with her, something I had feared we might never share again. My experience of the last day had made me realise how transient life is, and how something outside of your control can change everything that you hold, and held, dear to you, and I felt genuinely moved. "I know dear, and I feel the same" I replied, and then kissed her on the cheek. She went silent for a moment, as if trying to decide on something, but her eyes never left mine. She finally broke through whatever barrier she had built for herself and spoke again, looking sad as she did so. "I really thought that you were having an affair or something - you've seemed so distant and I just wanted to know - needed to know, that you still wanted me" she said as she pushed her face into mine, and then pulled back suddenly, looking concerned. "My Bill - I hope you're not coming down with anything because you feel awfully hot"! I put my hand up to my head and loosened another button on my shirt. "I know - I've felt like this since - since this afternoon" I said, checking myself; "I think I might take a shower or something, it will most probably freshen me up". "Well just you take care. I wish I wasn't staying out tonight now. If I could get out of it I would"! "Out? You didn't say anything about staying out tonight"! "I did, but as usual you weren't listening to me. I told you yesterday, that I was going out with some of the girls from the office and that I was staying over at Carol's, because I knew we'd be out until the small hours. I can't back out now". "Oh - okay, but you'll be back in the morning"? "I'll be back lover," she said kissing him and then looked at her watch "but just now I've got to get ready. I promised Carol I'd be over a five to help her with her hair, and I haven't got much time left to get ready myself"! I was just about to raise my eyes and ask her why Carol couldn't do her own hair but wisely stopped myself, knowing that this was some sort of female ritual that I would never truly understand, and broke away from her. "You get ready then - I think I'll lie down. I really don't feel so good". "Poor baby" she said, kissing my forehead, "I'll say goodbye before I go". I dragged myself upstairs feeling almost light-headed by now and felt a chronic cramping sensation in my stomach to go with it, that necessitated a visit to the bathroom. Five minutes later I had expelled an extraordinary amount of waste and dragged myself into the bedroom before falling asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. * * * * * * * I don't remember too much after that, just the fact that everything was dark as I woke, giving me a moment of disorientation as I wondered what time it was, and just how long I'd slept. I didn't remember Louise going, and guessed that she must have seen me lying and left me to sleep whatever it was I had, off. I mentally examined myself as I remembered the high temperature and the awful cramping I had experienced before falling asleep, and was grateful to find that I felt reasonably well now, although there was something that was not quite right - everything felt unreal - different, somehow. It was then that I noticed an aroma that was like nothing I had ever smelt before but was also, in a strange way, familiar. The more I became aware of it the more my nose detected some of its subtleties, and I started to recognise it as an almost primeval fragrance, quite rank and containing a hint of salt and cheese, but it was not really unpleasant. My senses seemed heightened and started to spread out, and I also became aware of a dampness, and of a cold and clammy feeling that seemed to seep into my skin from the bedclothes wrapped around me. Hell, surely I couldn't have wet myself when I had been asleep - surely! I decided that I had had enough of just lying here and trying to puzzle out my feelings, and tried to lift myself up and out of the bed so that I could see what it was that was bothering me. That was when I first became aware that whatever it was that was different went much further that just a few damp bedsheets and a funny smell. As my arms started to move I noticed that they were aching and felt unusually stiff. Now, at the age of forty-five I had gotten used to experiencing the odd-twinge in the morning as old father time had started to nudge me, letting me know that he was there, and waiting in the wings. This however, was far worse than normal. I tried to move my legs and, if anything, they were even worse. I was starting to get concerned now and stretched out all my limbs in an attempt to ease them and, at that point, I started to become really worried. It wasn't just the odd twinge that felt strange to me now - it was everything! Everything that I could feel was now different in some undefinable and unidentifiable way and as I quickly sat up I felt a movement from around my chest. My heart seemed to stop beating as I started to get my first idea as to what this might mean! Even though I was starting to enter a state of panic I could still, intellectually, accept what these sensations meant and quickly stood up to examine myself further, but then sat straight back down again as my legs started to buckle beneath me. "Oh Lord - please - please, tell me this isn't real!" I sobbed, and then put my hand to my smooth and slim throat as I realised that I was speaking in a soft and lyrical voice that was nothing like my own. I abstractly noticed the lack of an Adams apple as my hand lingered at my neck, and then started to control my breathing as I tried to pluck up enough courage to examine myself further. I put out a trembling hand and fumbled for the light switch on my bedside lamp and then blinked as the dim light momentarily dazzled me. As my eyes started to adjust to the change of light I started to o