Focal Point - Chapter 4 - 6

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Focal Point
CHAPTERS 4 - 6
 
By Alyssa Plant
 

Michael Cohen's dream was to protect and serve as a police officer.... That job didn't satisfy him until one day, when people without names came to visit. He wanted to make a difference, but he didn't expect it to make a difference to him, too...


 
Chapter 4

I rose early again; I hadn’t slept well. I managed to dress and quieten my growling stomach before I set out towards Vauxhall Cross once more. Before long, I was stood in the morning pod queue again, I didn’t feel as awkward as the previous day, but that was party due to the fact I wasn’t really paying attention to anything in particular. It felt almost robotic as I reached the pod and slipped into the stale air-conditioned building. Nobody seemed to notice me as I made my way towards the MEFE area; the whole place seemed to have lost its charm to me.

The computer scanned my face and a green light flashed. The doors slid open and I walked into the controlerate, not really knowing what to expect.

Several heads looked up from the desks towards the centre of the area. I stood there, not really knowing where to go.

“Hi,” Harriet said with an apprehensive smile, appearing from one of the side offices “You’re early,” she said giving me a quick friendly hug. “Come on; let’s get this over with, huh?” she said with an optimistic smile that I did not share. Gesturing me to follow her, we made our way back towards Mr Tornworth’s office and as we entered, I saw the same four people present that had been the night before. As she closed the door behind us, I stood fidgeting sheepishly; not sure what to say.

“Mr Cohen,” said Mr Tornworth getting my attention. “We wanted to apologise for last night … Ah, we realise this is so very new to you, and this isn’t something personal … It’s just the only thing we can think of to be honest,” he said with an apologetic shrug.

“It’s okay,” I said screwing up my face, “I guess it was just a shock. Look, I’ll go along with this, but if it gets stupid, or she …” I said. gesturing Harriet, “thinks its not going to work, we pull the plug ok? I don’t want to look stupid, and those types wouldn’t laugh at me, they would kill me,” I said raising my eyebrows.

“Quite so,” said Goodwin, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Look, we have three weeks, and that’s cutting it fine, but we want to try something…. I really respect you for going for this,” he said looking awkward. “And I’m sorry about what I said, I just meant that you at least had a chance of this working, not that you weren’t a proper bloke,” he said with a shrug, offering me his hand in some act of manly reconciliation.

Grudgingly, I took it and offered a weak handshake, mumbling something noncommittal and took a seat in the room. Mr Tornworth went straight ahead in the briefing. As Goodwin had said, we had a total of 3 weeks till the meeting. That was short notice for even an experienced Field Officer but as a raw recruit, as I suppose I was, it was all very overwhelming.

I was to leave Vauxhall Cross just before lunch, and with Miss North, and Harriet’s assistance, along with a vetted salon that the service used occasionally to change the appearance of agents, we would set about seeing if it was possible, or in my mind, impossible to fit me into the life of Anastasia Zanov, the Ex-Russian army sniper turned mercenary, and my one mental sticking point … a woman.

We left Vauxhall Cross just before noon and caught a cab from the embankment. Miss North gave the driver directions before sitting back and regarding me thoughtfully.

“You know, with all the staring that’s gone on today, I think I must have sprouted another ear …” I smirked sarcastically. Miss North looked embarrassed

“I’m sorry Michael,” she said “This is most definitely a first for me, and believe me; I’ve handled a lot of weird situations with Field officers. I think you’re the first to do this,” she admitted with a shrug.

“It’s not like he chose this is it?” interjected Harriet with an air of the haughty attitude I’d started to see more of since getting to know her better. “We practically pull him off the street and thrust him into this world … Granted he’s not a civilian in the strictest sense … but still, this would be crazy to even one of my bunch, I can’t begin to imagine how this feels to Mike,” she said, biting her lip.

“Well thanks for the touching Eulogy, but I didn’t realise I’d died,” I said sarcastically. “Come on, I’m terrified about this, but it’s not going to be the end of the world.” Both the women looked a little sheepish, but thankfully they backed off with the sympathy and the rest of the journey was spent in relative quiet.

About 20 minutes later, we pulled in outside a row of rather posh looking boutiques and salons in one of those namelessly fancy parts of the city that I rarely ventured into. Getting out of the cab took the last of my reserves, and I felt utterly drained as I stood on the pavement with the two women. We entered the salon and Miss North spoke to the receptionist, I was really glad I didn’t have to try and communicate; I was sure I would scream if I opened my mouth.

We were escorted to a private waiting area. It appeared the salon had been closed for the day specially, as the receptionist collected her things and left as soon as we were seated.

We were not seated long when a slim middle aged redhead came in and introduced herself to us. Her name was Sally, and she apparently knew Miss North quite well.

“I see you have a project for me Jane. Care to tell me a little about it?” she beamed rubbing her hands together eagerly.

“Well, Sally.” Jane North began, pointing at me. “We need to see if it’s possible for you to make our colleague here pass for a woman …”

Sally looked at me and raised her eyebrows. “Quite possibly the weirdest request I’ve had from you ghosts yet.” She grinned, “Wait no … what is it?”

“Spooks, dear,” Jane North said rolling her eyes.

“That’s the one; whatever! Who are you dear?” she asked smiling at me.

“Um, My na. I’m Mike.” I said awkwardly.

“Don’t be embarrassed dear; you won’t be my first man,” she chuckled. “What’s this in aid of, Jane?” she asked, rearranging some flowers in a vase beside her absent mindedly.

“He’s taking the place of one of our agents on a mission … The mission is … requires a woman.” She said with a shrug.

“Oh, right.” Sally said slowly with a frown, “Well let's see what I can do then, If you two would like to get comfortable, Jane? I think you know where I keep the kitchen in this place.” Sally led me out of the waiting area and into one of the treatment rooms at the rear of the salon.

“Ok dear,” she smiled, “Don’t be so nervous, okay? I can see you’re all jittery…” she chuckled warmly. “There’s really nothing to be afraid about here, I’m not going to do anything permanent to you yet, so relax and you might enjoy it a little. I know I enjoy being pampered,” she smiled.

“Sorry,” I shrugged. “This is really new to me, and to be honest, it makes me feel sort of uncomfortable.”

Sally smiled sympathetically and patted me on the arm.” Look, I won’t do anything to embarrass you, and I certainly won’t laugh. If this doesn’t work, we can at least say we tried. And if it does, I guarantee you there will be nothing to be embarrassed about. Believe me dear, being a woman is no different to being a man, it's no worse, certainly not embarrassing; I know your fragile male ego can’t rationalise that yet though.” She chuckled. “Now get in there and put on the robe,” she said pointing at a changing room in a tone that suggested I had little choice.

I pulled the curtain closed behind me and tried to breathe for a moment, she was right in a strange way … this wouldn’t kill me. At worst I’d have a wasted day and a few bad memories … I decided to go for it. It couldn’t hurt, right?

Stripping off my suit, I put it on the hanger and began to slip out of my underwear and quickly grabbed the maroon silk robe hung on the wall.

The robe was cool against my skin, and extremely soft to the touch, I could see why people liked the material … I stopped admiring myself and steeling my nerve, stepped out of the changing room.

“Ah good, you’re ready,” smiled Sally. “Let's get you sat here and I’ll begin,” she said, indicating a salon chair she had positioned facing out into the room away from the mirrored wall that it obviously normally faced.

“Don’t want me to see the horror till it’s completed huh?” I joked nodding at the mirrored wall.

“No dear, I just think it will be better to see the end first, it’s easier to see the difference.” She replied sorting through various items on a shelf. “Let’s get to work shall we?” she announced with far too much enthusiasm for my liking.

Sally stood looking at me intently for a moment after she got me into the chair with her chin in her hand. “Hmmm.” She murmured aloud. “Does it matter who you look like? Or will anyone do?”

I shrugged. “I don’t think it matters, but maybe a little Russian, if there’s such thing,” I suggested.

“Okay then, “she smiled reaching for a pair of tweezers. “Now don’t worry, I’m only tidying things up, they won't look girly,” she soothed before beginning to rip my eyebrow hairs out one by excruciating one.

Thankfully, she finished quickly, and began to play around with my longish hair. “I’m not sure if we want to go for long or otherwise, but your hair is workable as it is. What do you think?” she asked.

I wasn’t sure I had an opinion. “Um, Longer I guess? But I think a wig would be hot where I’m going,” I said trying not to reveal too much.

“Well let’s try one for now, and if this goes ahead, I’ll give you extensions ok? You have enough hair to weave them in.” I nodded, and she smiled before vanishing off into some other part of the salon before returning promptly carrying a slightly wavy brunette wig with a short bouncy fringe. She combed my hair back, and covered it with a plain white skull cap and slipped the wig over my head and stood back to adjust it.

She looked at me for a moment before shaking her head and chuckling to herself. “That suits you dear.” Now let’s get some makeup on you, and then we can deal with below the neck.”

She proceeded to apply makeup to my face, telling me what each item was and how it was used, I tried to pay attention, but felt quite awkward as she moved the brushes over my face. It really made me want to scratch.

I wrinkled my nose as she applied a powder to my cheeks.

“Now stop that, you!” she scolded, “I’ll be done soon. This is turning out great,” she enthused.

“I’m not sure I share your sentiment,” I muttered under my breath. “Do I have to remind you that I didn’t sign up for this?”

“Sign up to protect your country, or to wear your first bra?” she chuckled as she painted my lips with a clear gloss. “I think we are nearly done.” She smiled. “Let’s get you dressed, shall we?

I rose out of the chair slowly, feeling the strange sensation of hair brushing against my shoulders; It felt very alien indeed.

Sally led me over to a closet in the far corner of the room and began rummaging through drawers and shelves looking for things that she threw out into my arms as she found them. I just stood stock still holding what was thrust at me without any real idea of what I was meant to do.

“Why do you have all these clothes and things?” I asked somewhat curiously. I didn’t really suppose that a swanky London salon had many of this sort of job, not enough to stock up specially.

“I often get contracts to do modelling shoots, and bits now and then,” she called as she dug through another box. “I get lots of free stuff, and I hate to throw out basically unused things … plus it comes in useful for makeovers or special jobs like yours,” she laughed playfully. “

“Annnnnddd,” she continued reaching into the depth of the cupboard. “I have these.” She grinned holding up a plain black box.

“What’s in there?” I asked curiosity peaked dangerously.

“Your two new best friends dear,” she smirked, placing the box on the side and collected the pile of clothes from my still frozen arms. “Right dear, take these and go and get them on … be back out here sharpish, too … Go on, shoo,” she chided directing me towards the changing room again.

Once I was safely behind the flimsy curtain, I opened my hand and stared at the silky white knickers in my hand with something approaching mystification. For some reason, the hair on my head, and the makeup hadn’t really been crossing that line, it was still me … it was only bits of chemicals and minerals and hair, but the knickers in my hand were a line that I could not uncross once I took that last step. There was no way back; I would have cross-dressed. I didn’t care if it was something only I would know, but 3 women? Could I? Would it really be that big a deal? Another part of my brain reasoned… 'It’s only clothing…'

“For queen and country,” I muttered to myself as I slipped the silky garment up my legs and seated it securely around my private parts. There, I had done it … It felt weird, but not in the way I imagined. I had a stupid notion that Noel Edmunds would pop out with a camera any moment, but it didn’t happen.

I slipped the robe on again and stepped out of the changing room.

“Good, I thought I was going to have to send mountain rescue in there for you,” chuckled Sally as she stopped sifting through the clothing she had extracted.

Picking up a bra and a corset from the clothing, she approached me and ordered the robe off. Reluctantly, I complied and slipped the garment from my shoulders.

“Hm, not bad,” Sally muttered to herself as she looked me up and down. “There is plenty for me to work with.”

With some struggling, she helped me into the corset which stopped below my chest, and began to lace me into the restrictive garment.

“Now breathe out and I'll fasten it okay?” she said reassuringly as I was squeezed more and more. Following her instructions, thinking it would ease the constriction; she placed her knee in my back and pulled extremely hard on the laces. I was almost snapped in two as she fastened the laces behind me.

“Oh God,” I moaned. “Is my liver meant to be trying to force itself out of my ear?”

“Stop playing silly buggers, young lady,” she scolded. “You’ll get used to it,” she chuckled playfully.

“I may, but my intestines disagree.” I moaned sarcastically.

Sally fastened the bra around my chest, and approached me ceremoniously with the black box. As she took the lid off, I got the surprise of my life.
“What are those!?” I exclaimed with shock and curiosity.

“Why, these are your breasts, dear,” Sally said with an amused grin. “Did you think I would use socks?” she smiled sweetly.

Sally hefted two large fleshy objects from the box; they were large breast forms, extremely realistic, but a shade or two lighter than my slightly tanned complexion. Even the nipples looked scarily real.

Sally slipped the two breasts into the bra cups, and I immediately felt the tug against the shoulder straps.

“You get used to this?” I asked hopefully.

Sally smiled sweetly. “Some dear, but the weight is never ignorable, you may want to be careful, your centre of balance will be different now, so no gymnastics till you’re used to them okay?” she giggled. Sally proceeded to help me into a pair of tan tights, and a silky white blouse and charcoal knee length skirt that fastened high at my new waist.

“Here’s a pair of nice safe flats for now, you can deal with heels once you are more practiced,” she said, offering me a pair of simple court shoes.

“You say that like it’s a foregone conclusion that this will work…” I stated dryly.

Sally shook her head. “Come here, hon,” she said softly taking my hand and walking me towards the mirror wall in the other half of the room. I followed, grudgingly, not sure I wanted to see the monster drag queen she had created. As I looked into the glass however, I spun around self consciously to see where the heck the pretty brunette had come from; Sally saw my reaction and chuckled.

“She’s you, hon,” she said with a hint of amusement.

I stepped back in front of the mirror and stared at the reflection in front of me. It was hard for me to look at the shocked, bemused looking girl in the glass and relate her with myself.

“I’m … I look … I look like a girl.” I stammered ignorant of the fact I was stating the bloody obvious. “How?” I asked rhetorically, reaching out a hand towards the glass and watching the attractive young woman copy my movement. “This is impossible,” I whispered.

“No hon,” Sally said softly, placing her hand on my shoulder and appearing behind me. “No its not. I didn’t want to say anything before, as I was working on you, because I didn’t want you to back out, but you looked almost perfect as soon as I put the wig on you… You’re very lucky, and this isn’t anything to be ashamed about,” She said giving my shoulder a squeeze. “How do you feel about showing your friends?”

“They aren’t really my friends,” I sniffed. “I met them both a few days ago, I’ve been dumped into this world and I’m flying by the seat of my pants,” I replied stifling a sob.

Sally turned me around and hugged me tightly. “Don’t you cry little one, this is a lot, and you are very brave, and believe me, if I know Jane, and unfortunately I do, she will look after you. Miss Carlisle seems to care for you too, so don’t worry so much okay? And damn it girl! You stop crying!” she laughed. “You’re going to ruin my makeup job!” She chuckled playfully slapping me on the shoulder. “Get on out there and show them how you look.”

I made a face, “I’m not sure I can, I mean, I know how I look. I can’t deny that, but part of me wants to run and hide and never see this again.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed about. Go out there and take every moment as it comes,” Sally said with a sly grin.

I rolled my eyes, “Here goes nothing,” I shrugged and opened the door.

Harriet and Jane were sat in the waiting room chatting when they turned at the sound of the door. Jane started to turn back to her magazine not recognising me, but Harriet sat transfixed.

“Good God, Mike, is that you?” she said in a surprised whisper. Jane did a double take and just sat gawping.

“Erm, I guess this answer’s my question,” I shrugged, blushing.

Jane and Harriet just sat motionless; Harriet had a silly goofy grin on her face. “This is totally so much more awesome than I thought it could be,” she said shaking her head.

“Oh what are you? 12?” I laughed. “I guess this really decides things for us. God save the queen, etcetera?”

“This is quite amazing.” Jane said quietly, finally speaking. “I suspected that it would work, but I didn’t think he … she, would look so natural; so pretty…”

I scowled. “Did everyone see this but me? Did anyone see me as a man?”

“You know that’s rubbish Mike,” scolded Harriet. “Damn, it’s weird to call you that like you are…” Harriet shrugged apologetically getting up and walking over to me. “What do you think? Do you want to go for this?

“I don’t think I have a choice,” I said shrugging “I told myself I’d do it if I looked like a girl, I guess I called my own bluff,” I said rolling my eyes. “No, in all seriousness, I don’t know… the scary thing is, this doesn’t feel so bad now… I expected it to be so alien that I couldn’t cope, but… I don’t know, I could do it, I know that, and I have never backed down from the Job. I haven’t quit to date. There are a lot of things that are a great deal more important than me riding on this and if I can do something to change that, it will be worth it. I can take each day as it comes,”

Harriet bit her lip and looked at me intently for a moment before pulling me into a hug. I just hugged her back and we stood there for a moment. “You’re an amazing person,” she said quietly.

“Now I want to tell you that you can back out of this at any time.” Jane said slowly, as she crossed the room. “But, I spoke to John before we left,” she said. Noting my confused expression she added that this was Mr Tornworth. “Basically, he told me that if I decided that this would fly, that he thought it prudent to offer you a transfer more permanently to 6 … From an official standpoint, you’re already vetted, and read in, and it would cover us in a legal aspect. We can draw up the transfer papers when we get back to the office,” she said raising her eyebrows. “Would you be okay with that?” she asked cautiously, watching my reaction like a hawk.

“So I’d not go back to the Met?” I asked, letting the idea swim around my head. “Work with 6 permanently?” I asked curiously.

“Sure,” Jane nodded, “John has taken a liking to you. You stood up to him, and that’s a rare occurrence, normally …” she said tossing a sly grin at Harriet. “He thinks you have potential, your record certainly qualifies you, and pending completion of the Field officers Qualification Course, you would be a permanent MI6 Field Officer. Obviously that would come after this mission however…“ She said with a strange look on her face.

“Today seems to be a day of going with my instinct,” I said quietly, biting my lip thoughtfully. “Sign away my life,” I sighed reluctantly.

Harriet grinned and hugged me again. Turning to Jane, I asked. “Has she lost 10 years today? Or does she always act like a 14 year old?”

Jane smirked, “Partly,” she smiled, “but the prospect of what is soon to come is also a key motive. She knows we will have to go shopping.” She laughed as she watched the colour drain out of my cheeks.

 
 

Chapter 5

Sally had stripped me of my feminine garbs and I had returned to being a subdued and apprehensive Michael Cohen. We had gone our separate ways on leaving North Bank, Sally’s Salon. I slowly made my way home in the growing dusk, finally getting home around 6pm.

The flat was dark when I let myself in. It seemed that I was alone; something I honestly relished after so long in the company of others. I had a lot of thinking to do, and they were not sociable thoughts. I stripped off my clothing in my bedroom, and padded through to the bathroom and turned on the shower. After allowing the water to warm, I slipped under the relaxing pulsing jets, allowing the water to force the tension from my tired body.

I stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around my waist. On impulse, I wiped the steam from the bathroom mirror, and looked at my reflection. I didn’t see anything particularly girlish looking back at me, certainly not the woman that I had seen this afternoon. I messed around with my wet hair, trying to make it appear more feminine but was unsatisfied. I realised my chest was bare and I lifted the towel around my chest, tying it above where I would have breasts and closed my eyes. As I opened them, I tried to see the girl in my reflection, and I thought I caught a glimpse but it was gone as the mirror lost the battle against the steam. Why was I doing this? I didn’t want to look like a girl I rationalised. Just thinking about it made my stomach feel weird. I stepped out of the bathroom trying to shake the thoughts running through my brain and ran straight into Pete.

“Shit, Pete, sorry! I didn’t see you.” I gushed as I bounced off his chest and landed on the floor. Pete gave me a strange look and offered me his hand to help me up.

“Sorry, do I know you?” he said slowly, furrowing his brow.

“Pete, it’s me? Mike?” I said blushing. “your flatmate?” I added wondering if he was joking. Pete’s eyes widened.

“Woah, shit. Mike! God man I didn’t recognise you, what’s with the…?” he tailed off gesturing at me in general, not quite able to put a finger on what he saw. “You going gay on me mate?” he said with a hint of an amused grin. I was at a loss for words for a moment before I remembered the towel I had tied around my chest. Blushing deeply, I untied it and slipped it down to my waist.

“Heh, I don’t know how that got there.” I laughed nervously. “And I don’t look any different. Pete. Get your god damn eyes tested.” I laughed punching him on the arm and dashing off to my room before he could say anything else. Slamming the door closed I slipped down the door and sat on my bedroom floor breathing deeply. What the hell was happening? Why did I do that? Why didn’t he recognise me? I wasn’t wearing makeup, or women’s’ clothes. It wasn’t the first time… This was getting weird…

After enough time had passed I dried myself off and slipped into a pair of sweats and a tee shirt before venturing out into the kitchen to find something to eat. With all the excitement this afternoon, we had missed lunch, and I really wasn’t a one meal a day sort of guy.

Pete was sat at the counter as I walked into the kitchen.

“Alright,” He said looking up from his paper. “Why were you acting weird before Mike?” he asked, going straight for the kill. I looked around for a moment.

“It's stress I guess.” I shrugged. “Lots going on at work at the moment, in fact I’m transferring out of the Met at the moment.” I said, trying to distract him. Thankfully, he bought it.

“Oh? You moving somewhere else?” He said looking a little crestfallen. “How come you didn’t tell us?”

“No, I’m staying in London,” I said quickly. “I’m staying within the government, but changing Department, as it were.” I said cryptically. I wasn’t sure I wanted to go around telling people I was joining MI6, regardless of whether I was actually allowed to:

Unfortunately, Pete wasn’t that easy to satisfy.“Where are you going? Surely you’d have known you were going to transfer out? They aren’t giving you a desk are they?” he asked curiously between vicious oral assaults on the food before him that passed for eating.

I shook my head. “No, It's very spur of the moment, I… I was recruited, lets say,” I said raising my eyebrows.

“Who by?” Pete asked innocently. Why did he have to be so curious? I tried to pause as I reached into the fridge for a beer and spent an inordinate amount of time opening the thing. It was as he was turning to see why I had gone quiet, I remembered the 6 man Benton’s cover… “Foreign and Commonwealth office,” I said nonchalantly. “Paper pushing, nothing fancy, I look forward to the change of pace to be honest,” I shrugged.

Pete looked at me for a moment then went back to his food. “Sure sounds boring,” he mumbled. Becky chose that moment to return home. She pushed her way into the flat with as much physical drama as such a small person could create, dumping bags in the hall and slamming the door. “Blasted tube was out on our line,” she growled. “I had to walk from bloody Victoria. And these bags aren’t light!” she scowled.

“Don’t buy so much you dozy cow,” Pete said grinning. “It would be easier on you in more ways than one,” he lectured with a chuckle.

“Oh piss off.” She laughed. “You know that will never work. How was your day?” she asked regaining some of her trademark bounce now the long fight home was over.

“Fine,” he shrugged. “It’s been much more interesting since I got home though.”

Why can’t the world swallow you up when you want it to?

“Why’s that? Becky called from the living room, groaning loudly as she pulled off her knee high stiletto boots. “AAAHHHHHH circulation!” she moaned happily.

“Mike was running around in a towel looking like a girl, and now he’s announced that he’s left the police,” he announced triumphantly, trying to make me look as bad as possible. “I think he wants to be called Michaela now!” he laughed not quite managing to dodge the well aimed spatula I launched at the back of his head.

Becky appeared at the door to the kitchen seconds later. “Really?” she asked, her head cocked to one side. “I’d confirm it.” He winced, rubbing the back of his head. “But I’m afraid SHE will try to hurt me again.” He laughed. I was just stood there with my head in my hands hoping the world would end.

I felt Becky’s hand on my arm and dropped my hands to look at her. “He’s pulling your leg about most of that,” I said weakly. She nodded knowingly.
“Oh I didn’t believe a word of his usual bullshit, especially his kinky fantasies that he inflicts on us all,” she laughed pretending to vomit. “But is he right about you quitting the Met? I thought you loved that job?” She asked with concern.

I sighed. I was going to have to be honest; it was the safest way out that I could think of. They would be fine if my housemates knew? Right?

“Look, both of you listen up; I’m going to say zis once, and only once.” I said, imitating a famous quote from an old TV show. “I have been recruited by the Secret Intelligence Service, MI6 to you lackeys. Please don’t tell anyone this, as it is quite secret,” I said seriously, glaring at the pair. “If I ever say I can’t talk about something, please respect the fact that I can’t. The same goes for any extended unannounced trips.” I finished, watching the two closely for their reactions.

Becky and Pete looked at each other for a moment; Pete started to laugh, but caught the serious expression on my face. “You’re serious aren’t you Mike?” he asked furrowing his brow. “Straight up? Mi6?”

“Yes,” I sighed, “and this is the last time we talk about it, ok? So get your curiosity out of the way now before I lose my patience.” I grimaced.

The three of us talked for nearly an hour, they were both extremely curious. I think Pete didn’t believe me till I showed him the security pass in my suit pocket. I was deliberately vague; I didn’t know how much I was allowed to say, or not as the case may be. I just hoped men in black suits wouldn’t turn up in the night and spirit me away to some dark cell for all eternity. Thankfully, in the aftermath of my honesty, Pete had forgotten about the bathroom incident. The evening wound on slowly as we returned to our usual evening routines. Before long, I was welcoming the warm embrace of sleep once more.

I woke the next morning to the annoying voice of the radio DJ; it was possibly the last voice I ever wanted to hear first thing in the morning, second to perhaps Cherie Blair. As usual it succeeded in dragging me from the warm confines of my bed. I showered quickly, and got out of the flat before my housemates woke: I wasn’t in the mood to talk to them this morning; I needed a break in the interrogation after last night.

I missed the normal morning rush at the pods, arriving slightly earlier, and entered the Vauxhall Cross for my 4th day working with MI6, although I supposed that today would become my official first day. Catching one of the lifts, I descended to the sublevels of the building, and arrived at the Middle East controlerate.

The door unlocked with a beep, and I slipped into the offices. I headed towards Mr Tornworth’s office, hoping that he would be in early, I was in luck. As I knocked, he looked up from his desk and gestured for me to enter.

“You’re in very early Michael.” He smiled. “Though I suspect you didn’t come in for an idle chat.” He said raising his eyebrows in question.
“Yes Mr Tornworth, I mean Sir. Sorry.” I stuttered not quite sure of the appropriate title.

“Ah stuff the formality down here Michael, Call me John.” He said. “What’s on your mind? How were things yesterday?”

Taking a seat in front of his desk, I pursed my lips, wondering how to phrase yesterday’s happenings. “Well, I guess it went okay, if we are talking about mission success.” I began. “But I came to speak to you about something Miss North told me afterwards; when we knew things could progress…” I said trailing off, hoping that he got the hint.

John nodded. “Yes, I asked her to offer you a more permanent position with us pending on the success of yesterday’s erm… test,” he said with an embarrassed grin.

“Look, I’ll be honest with you,” he said shrugging. “This is unorthodox, and I think this avenue honestly holds the most chance for us to field an agent successfully. It’s hard to find reasonable Field Officer candidates at the best of times and your skill-set and background offers us a unique opportunity to diversify…” he smiled conspiratorially.

“You impressed me when you told me that our initial plan would not work, even against my insistence that you try. To be honest, I suspected as much, but at the time we were short of ideas. “You’re a professional, as you said, and you aren’t willing to compromise your beliefs and work for the unrealistic or impossible: That makes you an asset as a field Officer,” he said leaning back in his chair and looking at me. “What do you say to working for us?” he asked.

“Okay,” I replied simply. “I had plenty of time to think this over last night after Miss North… Jane told me, so don’t think this is spur of the moment; but yes, I’ll do it.” I said with more confidence than I felt.

John leant forwards and offered me his hand across the desk. “Welcome to the Team, Mike,” he said with a broad smile. I took the offered hand, once again losing mine in his massive paw and vicelike grip. I felt like I had just signed a business deal …

“How do we progress from here?” I asked, cutting to the point of my coming in early. “This assignment, this mission … I don’t want to be left out of the loop on this,” I insisted.

“Well, When Jane and Harriet get in; we meet with Toby, my deputy. You met him yesterday, blunt Scottish chap,” he said reminding me with a grin. “And we will form an action plan for the next two weeks that remain before the mission begins. Of course, there will be some job training that will have to be conducted …” he said with an apologetic smile. “I can’t quite let you go into the field untrained… All Field Officers attend the Field Officer Entry Course before assignment to a controlerate, but we will have to compress the actual important parts into this period for you, the fluff can come afterwards when you get back.”

“You mean IF?” I replied grimly, saying what I really thought, and what I was sure he meant.

“No, I mean when,” John said, his face taking on a serious expression. “I never expect to lose an Officer in the field, and this mission is no different, you have the particulars for this job that no amount of legend specific training or prep could teach. If anyone would complete this successfully, it’s you.” He shrugged, “Now if you do get killed and prove me wrong. I will dig your damn body up, and kill you myself. Clear Cohen?” he said with mock sincerity.

I couldn’t help but smile. There was a different side of this man I was seeing now I had crossed the invisible divide between working with, and for.

Over the next half hour, the department began to fill up: Soon, those pertinent to the operation arrived, and were subsequently called into John’s office. There were congratulations given and knowing smiles when it was announced I was becoming a permanent member of the Controlerate. Jane gave her report on the previous day, and much to my embarrassment, she could find no reason for the operation to not go ahead. We discussed the next two weeks, and what would have to be incorporated.

Jane kept looking at me as if she was about to say something, but changing her mind at the last moment. Eventually, it got too annoying to ignore.
“What is it?” I asked turning to her.

“Well,” she said slowly, as if choosing her words carefully. “There isn’t much time to fit all that Mike has to learn in… I would like to put it past everyone that we kill two birds with one stone,” she said, glancing around the room nervously.

“What is it, woman?” Toby Goodwin asked impatiently in his broad Glaswegian accent. “You want us to come back later or are you going to tell us now?” he asked sarcastically, earning him a scowl.

“Look, I just think it would work better if we spend a few days with Mike… dealing with the more… erm, Vital aspects of the… Disguise…” she said looking at me with a worried look. “Then Mike lives as Anastasia 24/7 till the Mission… so he can get used to it, allowing him more time to focus on the other aspects...?” she offered tentatively, with an expression that suggested she expected me to explode any second with rage.

It didn’t seem as shocking or disgusting as I wanted it to in my mind. The idea, while scary, was annoyingly sensible… I didn’t want to make some major goof when it mattered and it could kill me … did I?

“I guess,” I shrugged. “I mean, I’ll have to do it at the end of these two weeks anyway. Starting a few days earlier won’t exactly change anything.”

“Sorry Mike,” Jane said softly. “I just didn’t want to seem like I was throwing more of this at you, I realise how hard yesterday was…” she said with an apologetic smile.

“I’ll just be happy when it’s all over,” I shrugged.

“This is above and beyond, lad,” said Toby seriously. “We’ll look after ye’,.” He said patting me on the back roughly. This stays within the controlerate, nobody else in Six needs to find out, okay?” he smiled reassuringly. “I Know I wouldn’t want anyone to find out,” he chuckled. I just looked at my feet and blushed.

“That’s not what we all think, you know,” Harriet said as we walked across the footbridges away from the Mi6 building.

“I know, but he, and God knows how many others are or will be in the next few days,” I said to the floor as we walked. “Facing that lot when I do this is going to be so embarrassing,” I sighed.

“There is another way,” Jane shrugged as we hailed a cab.

“I dread to find out, but go on …” I urged as we climbed aboard. “New Scotland Yard Please,” I told the cabbie, before returning my gaze to Jane. “What?” I asked.

“You start living as the legend 24/7 now …” She grinned. “Nobody gets to know you before, and when the mission is over, she goes away, and Mike goes on the Field Officer’s Entry Course before being assigned to MEFE…” She concluded looking pleased with herself.

“Would John and Toby go for that?” asked Harriet sceptically beside me. “It seems a bit deceptive. I don’t think people are that immature here…” she said making a face.

“I’d rather not be known as ‘that agent that dressed up as a girl …” I said, hoping the cabbie had his mike off. “From what Mr Goodwin said before; I can be pretty sure there would be a lot of attitudes that aren’t vocalised, and as much as I don’t want to run around in skirts, it offers me a way out with my manhood intact. It’s not quite the best way for me to start at a new job.” I grimaced.

“Keeping your manhood intact by wearing a skirt?” Harriet asked coyly, cocking an eyebrow. “That’s certainly the most roundabout way I can imagine,” she chuckled.

After paying the driver, we left the taxi and made our way into the Lobby of New Scotland Yard. The two girls decided not to come up; Jane said something cryptic about phone calls. Shrugging, I called the lift, and was soon on my way up to the 3rd floor, and my old place of work.

“Where’ve you been mate?” boomed Harry from across the room as I entered the office.

“I’ll tell you in a bit, Harry,” I replied, trying to throw him off long enough to ask Janice if the boss was around. Well, my old boss.

Knocking on Chief Inspector Farvey’s door, I entered.

“Welcome back Cohen.” He smiled as he looked up from the papers on his desk. “Have fun playing with the spooks, lad?” he chuckled.

“How did you?” I began to ask furrowing my brow, when he held up a hand and laughed deeply. “You don’t think that’s the first time some busybody from the ‘Foreign and Commonwealth’ has been around these parts? It’s one of the corniest covers in the book, but we’re British, so we keep using them because they make us feel better,” He chuckled.

It struck me as true when I thought back. Why would some Foreign office lackey come here to talk to me?

I cut to the chase; “Sir, I’m here to tender my resignation, unfortunately, it has to be effective immediately,” I shrugged apologetically.

“Stole you have they? Bastards,” he said with a wry grin, offering his hand. “Good luck in future pastures, Michael,” he said ruefully giving my hand a good squeeze. “May our loss be their gain.”

We chatted for a few more moments before I said my goodbyes and left his office for the last time. Harry was still loitering when I closed the door.

“What’s all this cloak and dagger stuff mate?” he said in his usual tactless manner.

“I’m being transferred,” I shrugged. “Position with the foreign office, diplomatic protection detail,” I shrugged. Somehow, I knew that line would work on Harry.

“Sounds boring,” he said making a face. “When you go?” he asked as I cleared the few personal items I owned from my desk and hit a few keys on my keyboard before my machine began to format its drive.

“Now, Harry,” It’s a short notice placement. Overseas, you know …” I shrugged with fake remorse. “Boring, but they pay great,” I grinned, hoping he was satisfied.

“Fair enough,” He grinned. “Been cool working with you mate,” he called as I walked out the door.

“I don’t share the sentiment,” I muttered as I walked down the corridor.

It was strange. At the time, I had thought that I enjoyed the job, or at least had been happy, but the more I thought back, the more I realised that it had been just that; a job.

Exiting the lift on the ground floor, I headed over to the seating area where the two women were waiting for me. I gave the building a last look over as we hailed a cab, and left New Scotland Yard for the last time.

 
 

Chapter 6

The cab dropped us off outside North Bank, and we made our way inside where we were greeted warmly by Sally.

“I ordered those things you requested Jane, the courier dropped them off a few moments ago,” She said grinning devilishly, “It’s funny how fast your lot’s money moves things…” she chuckled.

“What have you done?” I asked with a growing feeling of dread.

“You’ll see,” replied Jane with a coy smile.

“I really don’t trust you with surprises,” I said shaking my head. “Fine, let’s destroy my life as I know it for the next few weeks,” I sighed reluctantly. “Shall we?” I asked turning to Sally, “I don’t want to delay everyone’s plans.”

Sally led me through into the room we had used the day before and I mindlessly walked straight into the changing room and stripped. There was another pair of knickers on the side, and the same silk robe. I slipped both items on without really thinking about it. I was too far beyond being able to complain or worry.

When I returned to the main room, Sally led me to a long table and ordered me to lie face down on the padded top. I gave her a funny look, but complied.

“Now this might sting a little dear…” she said as she began to spread warm liquid wax on the backs of my legs. I wasn’t stupid; I knew what was coming from many other sources, but nothing quite prepared me for the utter agony when she ripped the first of the cloth strips from my skin.

YOOOWWCH.” I screamed in a most unmanly fashion. “Can’t you do that any less violently?” I begged squeezing my eyes shut to block out the pain as she removed more of my flesh.

“Of course not, dear,” she said in a bored tone. “Now be a good girl and grin and bear it; beauty hurts,” she giggled. I could almost swear she was enjoying this.

Before long, the backs of my legs were clear of hair, and having rolled me onto my front, she repeated the process. Thankfully the rest of my body was relatively hair free, apart from my armpits and pubic region which received similar vicious treatment.

“Do MI6 employ you to torture suspects too?” I groaned rubbing my sore body parts. “Is it always that bad?”

“No, you get used to it,” she said as she cleared some items away. “And yes, once or twice they brought in a particularly hairy terrorist for me to play with,” she grinned, before bursting into giggles when she saw the look on my face.

I was allowed the modesty of the robe once more and Sally had me sit in the salon chair again.

“Ok hon, we’re going to give you hair extensions,” she said as she played with my existing locks. “How long do you want it?” she asked.

I shrugged. “I don’t know, you decide.” I replied dismissively, not really wanting to be voluntarily involved in my emasculation.

Sally smiled and rubbed my shoulder. “It’s not so bad dear,” she soothed. “I know this isn’t easy, but you need to relax a little and go with the flow ok?”

“The flow terrifies me,” I admitted. “This whole thing is alien and strange, I came into this hoping that I’d prove them wrong and look silly, then I found myself feeling glad I didn’t look stupid … that … I don’t know; if I have to be a girl, at least I don’t look stupid… does that make sense?” I asked locking eyes with her through the mirror.

“Sure it does dear,” she said with a reassuring smile. “Nobody wants to look stupid. Look, why don’t you try to put Michael away for now, and pretend you’re someone else? You might find it easier if you stop thinking of yourself as a man dressed as a woman …” She shrugged,

“But I am,” I said, “Or I will be.” I shuddered.

Sally shook her head. “No you won’t.” she said firmly. “For your mission you will be a woman, so you’d better get into character, huh?

“I don’t see how,” I shrugged, beginning to feel stupid. “I’ll be a guy pretending to be a woman on the mission, nothing changes that.”

Sally knelt down by my side and turned to face me. “Look dear, I’m not one of your spy types, but I do know that if you go with that attitude, you will fail, and it will most probably cost you your life,” she said seriously. “My advice, is to let go of Michael for a while, let's pick you a name to use, It will make this easier for you than seeing yourself as ‘Michael in girls clothes’,” she smiled. “any ideas?” Sally prompted.

“I really never thought about it.” I shrugged screwing up my face. “I’d like something Hebrew though.” I admitted. “I won’t change everything about me.”

Sally nodded. “How about Sarah?” she offered, “That’s a Hebrew name isn’t it?”

I shook my head. “No, it’s too… girly... I really don’t quite see myself as the princess sort yet either,” I chuckled darkly.

Sally smiled ruefully and shook her head. “You really are a hard one to please aren’t you?” she said shaking her head. “Well you have a think while I do your hair okay? I will be expecting a name when I’m through.” She smiled and rubbed my arm before she got to her feet and began to work on my hair.

As she worked, I lost myself in thought. I had to admit she was right; my entire problem with this was that I saw myself as Mike cross-dressing. For Mike, being treated like this, wearing clothes like this would be wrong, or strange…. But If I thought of myself as a girl, it wouldn’t be… it would be normal. I tried to think of girl's names, but each one that popped into my head was someone I knew… I really didn’t want to be reminded of them each time someone called my name for the next few weeks. As I tried to think of names that didn’t belong to anyone I knew, I remembered something my Father had mentioned once; he had described how my Mother had vetoed my sister’s name… I had gotten a Jewish name, and my sister ought to have a Christian one… to reflect the two faiths my parents belonged to… Of course, it hadn’t mattered that Veronica had not been a Christian name either… but the name had stuck with her to this day as names tend to… I thought about the name my Father had wanted…. Sharon…. I played with it in my mind for a moment and something seemed to click. It was as if it was a name waiting for me… It was part of my family, but awaiting an owner… Sharon Cohen, Miss Sharon Cohen. ‘I am Sharon…’ I thought to myself. I smiled inwardly at the irony of the name… Plain, flat, new… a clean slate in my mind…. Yes, Sharon was perfect.

When I came round from my daydream like state I realised that Sally was practically finished. I looked at the person in the mirror… I saw no trace of Mike and the only difference I could see was that my hair was longer and a different colour… She had finished the extensions, and dyed my hair a very natural shade of blonde, almost honey coloured. It was currently cascading around my shoulders with a slight hint of waviness. I could see the girl again … she was more plain looking at the moment, but none the less still pretty, and still a girl. It was scary to see myself look like that…

“Wow,” I breathed quietly.

“See what I meant yesterday?” Sally said nodding at my reflection. “You suit this,” she smiled.

“Even flat-chested and without any makeup I look like a girl,” I said slowly. “How?” I asked dumbly, feeling increasing confusion begin to creep through my brain.

Sally finished trimming a section of hair and fluffed it lightly. “Good genes dear,” She said with a shrug. Holding a mirror behind my head, she moved it around to let me see the whole effect. “What do you think?” she asked with a proud smile on her lips.

“I … I like it,” I said without really thinking. I looked so different that it felt easier to think of myself as Sharon… as a girl. As the hypothetical Sharon, I think it suited me, or her, I wasn’t quite sure yet.

“Did you decide on a name?” she asked leaning on the back of the chair and looking over my shoulder. “If you haven’t, I’m going to name you Betty-Sue,.” she giggled, wiggling her eyebrows.

I chuckled at the thought and looked at myself in the mirror again… Nope, no Mike…
“Sharon, I think,” I said slowly “I guess looking like this it makes it easier to call myself that,” I murmured quietly.

“The name suits you,” she smiled. “It’s feisty without being sluttish, but feminine at the same time… and yes, you do look more like a Sharon at the moment.” She said with a smile.

“I’m not so sure feisty is anything I want to be,” I frowned, running my fingers through my blond locks. “This feels so real,” I said furrowing my brow. “I can’t even tell.”

Sally beamed. “That, my darling, is because I’m a pro,” she said winking and laughing before explaining what she had done… I didn’t understand most of it, but I was glad she did.

Sally spun my chair around again and proceeded to attack my eyebrows with a pair of tweezers before she set about applying cosmetics to my face. To her credit, she tried to explain what each thing was, and what they did, but I was lost.

Sally dove into the wardrobe cum cupboard again, and produced another small mountain of clothing on the floor by my feet. Once she was satisfied, she didn’t go for the corset as before, but reached onto the shelf behind me and removed a package. Ripping the paper, she extracted another box similar to the previous day.

“Jane had me order these from a supplier in the city and got them couriered over,” she said with a sly smile. “MI6 spares no expense…”

Opening the box, she lifted out one of the fleshy objects. They were more realistic than the previous pair, and the tone matched my skin much more closely. Sally placed the breast forms on the tabletop next to her, and extracted a tube from the box and began to read the label.

“What’s that?” I asked puzzled.

“It’s a skin glue.” She said, “It will adhere the forms to your chest for about two weeks, we will need to take them off and clean the underlying skin before you go away, so the timing is quite good.” She said. “This will make it much more realistic, and help you get into character.” She said it as if she was trying to convince me it was a good idea.

In all honesty, I’d given up much hope of escaping with some modicum of masculinity, so I lay back on the waxing table once more as Sally applied the glue to both my skin and the breast forms before individually positioning each one. Once they were on my skin, she added more glue around the edges, and applied a semi permanent makeup to blend them to my own skin. The effect was shocking; I sat up and immediately felt the tug of my breasts on my chest.

“This is weird,” I muttered. “too damn weird.”

Sally laughed. “You’ll get used to that,” she said with a knowing grin. “Most of us grow ours over a few years, so we don’t notice a difference,” she said with a note of amusement.

Sally retrieved the bra and the corset from the pile of clothes and ordered me to stand before imprisoning me in the blasted thing again. I was NOT pleased with the way it pushed my breasts up… I could swear they looked larger. Fastening the bra, Sally showed me how to position my breasts in the cups. I did feel more comfortable now the weight was supported more evenly, strange, but more comfortable.

Sally selected a knee length grey skirt and a pale blue blouse that exposed just the hint of cleavage without actually revealing the false breasts. While I wrestled with a pair of nude tights, she rummaged in her venerable Aladdin’s cave and returned with a pair of low black strappy heels.

“I don’t think I’m ready for those,” I said with a grimace. “What happened to walking before I run?” I asked hoping she would reconsider.

“Nonsense.” She smiled. "Consider them training. Plus, these are barely two inches,” She chided. “Grow up, girl,” she winked.

Straightening my clothes , she gathered my hair behind my head and fiddled with something before pronouncing me done; I could feel my hair tugging lightly at whatever she had pinned it with.

Leading me over to the mirror, she showed me the results of her hard work.

I was speechless. There was no doubt I appeared female now… My blonde hair was pulled into a loose bun high on the back of my head, with a few wispy strands framing my expertly made up face. My figure was undeniably female, and the young woman that looked back at me was slim and attractive. She looked ready for a business meeting and most definitely was not a Mike …

While I had been admiring myself, Sally had invited Jane and Harriet in. The two of them were as shocked as I was. “Mike, I can’t believe that’s you,” Harriet whispered, with a look closely approaching awe.

“Girls,” Sally announced, getting their attention. “We decided, for the good of her role, that she needs to be referred to in the feminine from now on … And she’s called Sharon,” she said with a broad grin.

“Whose idea was that?” Jane asked curiously, fixing Sally with an accusatory stare.

“Hey it was my idea for a name, but she picked it!” Sally giggled holding her hands up in surrender.

“How do you feel Mi … Sharon? Jane asked raising her eyebrows. “I must say you look great…

“The jury is still out,” I shrugged. “I know I look good, and I’m happy that I don’t look silly, but this still feels uncomfortable,” I shrugged. “So what’s the plan now?” I asked with trepidation.

“Well, I thought we could get a spot of lunch, and then do some shopping for you,” Jane suggested. “John authorised us to use a 6 credit card, so there’s no worry about money.”

Sally rolled her eyes, “I should have become a super spy like my sister.”

I wheeled around. “You two are sisters?” I half asked, half stated as I looked back and forth between the two. “I should have guessed,” I sighed. “Why would 6 go round vetting salons?”

Sally grinned. “I just wish you were in as safe hands this afternoon with the other North sister.” She chuckled, dodging a playful swipe from Jane.

Sally found me a handbag and a jacket to go with my outfit, and placed one of each of the cosmetics she had used in the bag. I gave her a hug as we left.

“Thank you, you made this as painless as I expect it could have been,” I said genuinely. “Apart from the waxing, of course.” I said laughing.

“My pleasure,” she smiled warmly. “I just wish I could come with you guys now, but I have to open the shop and tend to the boring normal customers,” she replied ruefully.

After a final round of goodbyes, we stepped out onto the street and waited for a cab to pass.

It was about then I realised I was standing on a London street wearing women’s clothes, makeup, and with big fake breasts glued to my chest.
 


 
To Be Continued...

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Comments

I really like this story

It has some similarities with Jenny Walker's marvellous "Breaking Cover", but the characters and details differ enough to make it stand apart from that story. So far it's been a sweet and gentle tale but I'm rather worried that Mike/Sharon will be in terrible danger if the mission doesn't go to plan and his/her cover gets blown.

I really like this story and can't wait to find out how Sharon develops and discover what happens next. I'm especially looking forward to seeing how Pete and Becky react when they meet her.

Pleione

00... Oooh!

Sounds like Sharon will soon be dressed to kill as well as licensed to!
Loving it!

Stillian (no changes yet)

Liked it.

Can't wait to see more, and see how Sharon handles herself on the field.


-Christelle

"Fun-loving geek-chick looking for someone who doesn't give a damn about her past"


-Christelle

"Fun-loving geek-chick who's addicted to sunlight!"

Interesting to see where this goes.

I'm enjoying it so far. It has a certain plausibility - it's as plausible as lots of other stories here at least. It seems that Mike/Sharon is supposed to impersonate a female Russian ex-sniper but wouldn't that mean he would be fluent in Russian? He may well be fluent but it hasn't been mentioned so far.

I'm also curious about the word 'controlerate' as it isn't in my PC's Oxford dictionary. I suppose it's spook jargon but I've never seen it before.

Looking forward to more.

Geoff

Good story

I like this one. Seen the premise used before, but who can say they write anything in fiction that hasn't been seen before? I sure can't, I know that. Mike/Sharon is an interesting character, and I'll not only be interested in seeing how Sharon deals with normal life, but how she handles the assignment once in place. As mentioned, I do hope she speaks Russian, too.

Enjoying This Story

jengrl's picture

I am really enjoying this story and I am looking forward to reading more adventures with Sharon. I really like this type of spy genre where the agent has to go undercover as a woman and goes on a journey of self discovery. Great Job!

PICT0013_1_0.jpg

Focal Point

I also picked up on that superb story Breaking Cover, but the similarities are very minimum, just enough to set the stage. I also wonder about the possible lack of Russian language, but figure the name is more personal, not part of the "legend". I know there are a lot of languages in the old Russian Block, and recruits often had trouble understanding each other and officers, at least in the early stages of training camp. Maybe he has picked up a satellite language? Guess we'll find out. I look forward to seeing more. The set up so far has been good. Maybe he won't be going home to his flat, he might be in immersion training and move in with the agent that has shown some interest in him so far to continue it. She sounds like she may be a perfect trainer for him, at least in the early stages.( Romantic interest also?) I'm surprised they didn't pierce the ears once, that would be common enough to be normal over there. Probably wouldn't wear any on duty, or mission, but there is always down time. Maybe during the shopping trip. At ex-soldier may even need at least a manicure even with short nails. Again, it depends on the legend.

Very Jane Bond

I like this too. Sharon has a mission only she can do but she isn't too sure about this girl thing yet. However a lot can go wrong. Rushed mission planning and preparation is never a good thing. This story can go a lot of different directions and right now I'm enjoying just guessing how you are going to take this one. Good stuff!

hugs!

grover

point well made

RAMI

Enjoying this story very much. Like those who commented already, I have questions on mission planning, language skills, and not only learning how to be a woman, but learn how to be the "legend" .

I am sure we will find out soon enough.

RAMI

RAMI

Proceeding well

Poor Sharon. She's about to get a three-week crash course in being a girl. Poor thing has no idea what's in store. At least it might make the "actual" mission seem like cake.

Agree

I agree with the other comments. A great and very enjoyable story.
Hilltopper

Gina_Summer2009__2__1_.jpgHilltopper

this is good i enjoyed it as

this is good i enjoyed it as much as your first posting keep up the good work ...... kirri

So is Mike gone forever?

Hope Eternal Reigns's picture

Hi Alyssa,

Great story telling. I was not surprised when Mike forgot to lower the towel, but was shocked that Pete didn't recognize Mike.

Mike seems to be taking the change without much protest. I wonder if "Mike" will return when this mission is over?

Thank you for posting this story for our enjoyment.

with love,

Hope

with love,

Hope

Once in a while I bare my soul, more often my soles bear me.

Difficult

A difficult task you've set yourself, Alyssa. 'Breaking Cover' is a hard act to follow, but this is sufficiently different to be very interesting indeed.

You've proved with your other work that you can lead the reader on a journey where emotions are scattered to the four winds, and back again. So I've high hopes for this story.

Susie

Agreed, love Jenny Walker's stuff

However, she has not produced anything new in almost 3 years. I wonder how she is doing and if she has anything new ? I've been hoping for a follow on to Breaking Cover since the ending had definite loose threads which could be exploited in another novel. However, last time I emailed her, she was reluctant to do a follow on :(.

Kim

Great ...

The story seems great so far, and I just wonder what will happen next. Especially if Sharon is to remain permanently (for few weeks at least). How will his/her friends will react to the change. Or will Sharon actually disappear to go home ?

I give you my encouragements.
Mildred

Don't Think That's Possible

jengrl's picture

I don't think it is possible for Sharon to go away at the end of a workday. The breasts are attached for at least two weeks and the hair extensions and dye job are something that Sally or Sharon wouldn't want to spend time going through every day.

PICT0013_1_0.jpg

Focal Point 4-6

Robyn B's picture

Alyssa, this story is developing very nicely. I don't need to repeat the same things that other commentators have said.

The proof reader has definitely picked up his game. Much better.

Robyn B
Sydney

Robyn B
Sydney

hehe

Yes she has.... But the proof reader is me.

interesting story

A delightfull read... so far. There are a lot of ways to go from here. Is Sharon/Mike in it for the long run? Was Heather a plant or really the agent to be? She seems the role of "confident/shrink". This looks like Mike was set up. What about Sharon/Mike's delayed puberty?

I can think of lots of questions. So I will anxiously wait for the next installment.

Thanks for a nice story.

Hugs,

Trish-Ann

Hugs,
Trish Ann
~There is no reality, only perception~

I think Sharon is going to have to be ...

Jezzi Stewart's picture

... a lot more physically convincing: some hips and a faux vagina gaff for starters, girl nails, too if that'll work for a sniper ... and then there is the voice, not only a feminine voice, but a feminine Russian voice. Maybe hypnosis would help in the girl training. Seems like the roommates will have to be brought into the loop, too.

"All the world really is a stage, darlings, so strut your stuff, have fun, and give the public a good show!" Miss Jezzi Belle at the end of each show

BE a lady!

reply

Hips? fake vagina? not quite apropriate... as for nails... arent girls and guys nails the same apart from length and shape? and no, they will remail boring and short, sorry, from personal experience I'll tell you Nails and rifles dont mix!

As for needing to be more convincing, shes doing fine if you read... not every women is hourglass and primped and perfect... and her voice is fine :P there will be no Hypnosis, sorry.

Tried to read

laika's picture

...the NCIS story, but couldn't because I didn't know the show and characters (all I remember is the fun Goth girl Medical Examiner). Bummed me out because I really like your stuff. So I'm REALLY enjoying this one. This is not the Mi6 of the spy films but a very realistic-seeming place where people working there get carpal tunnel syndrome than shot with cyanide pens. Doesn't mean it can't get exciting and dramatic once Sharon" is out on assignment but I love the prosaic feel of how this is developing. And the shadowy forms we're starting to get a sense of moving about in our agents subconscious seem to portend that this will end up as more than just some assignment. portentious. Can just picture our neophyte spook getting spooked by some weird, identity-challanging dream, like going to take the breast forms off & they've turned to real boobs. Or something. And I imagine life with the two flatmates (great characters) might get more interesting as well. Anyway, fun stuff!

Any progress on the Vampire story, Alyssa? That was a fun beginning that I'm hoping will be continued.
~~~hugs, Laika

My thinking

I would think that Sharon will not be going back to flat. A sure route to eventual unmasking would be the simple line connecting A. (young male police officer) to B. ( female assassin for hire plant) by way of the fact that both live in the same place and have been seen entering and leaving MI6. Surely MI6 has a few safe houses around where Sharon can stay and practice before being sent on her mission.

Damaged people are dangerous
They know they can survive

interesting idea...

One word for you all to think about with regards to this scenario......

Cleanskin

Work out what it means, and you have your answer to that little problem

Coming late

I'm coming late to this story, so some of the remarks I have about what I read so far are probably already known to the author and perhaps even addressed in future chapters.

Firstly, there's Mike being capable of successfully pretending to be a Russian ex-army female sniper. Since the sniper part is no problem, most replies seem to be about the "female" part and how he can do this realistically in 3 weeks. Personally, I'm much more dubious about the "Russian" part. I can believe they might give him enough information on the procedures of the Russian army to be believable, but I seem to have missed the part where Mike spoke fluently Russian. Or even understood it at all. Not something you can fix in 3 weeks and this seems kinda important to me.

Also, I've my doubts about the way they are transforming Mike. Stunningly beautiful sniper hitwomen don't come from the Russian army: they come from Hollywood. A real army woman tends to be less then stunning, has no long hair and certainly doesn't walk in high heels. Add to that they usually compensate for having to live in a "mens world" by being worse machos then 99% of the men in the world and you end with Mike being completely different then what should be expected.

Hugs,

Kimby

Hugs,

Kimby

I'll address this... as i

I'll address this... as i feel its important.

Firstly, If you read on, Mike lived in Georgia for part of his childhood, his russian is suitable.

Hollywood version? I think not. The russian military has females in frontline roles, and has historically fielded the most female snipers.

As for your comments on real army women, i know thousands that would protest that horrid steriotype.

What you're saying is army women are butch, and unattractive. This simply isn't true. Myself, and other women in this line are as feminine as any other... Hell, you should see the platoon girls nights out... (Reserve medical unit). Without blowing my own trumpet, I'm not unattractive, and my friends certainly arent either. Steriotyping is something is had hoped people here would have learned about.

As for the transformation, well, no, high heels aren't that practical in a combat zone... but if you read on, you notice why thats done. It's entirely possible to do what i wrote in three weeks. Its intensive yes, but possible. At the end of the day, its fiction. The actual transitional element of this story, is not the foremost driving force. its MEANT to be self contained, smaller, and less important than the interactions, the main plot, and the other sub plots throughout.

Thanks for your comments :)
Alyssa

Focal Point - Chapter 4 - 6

Hello Sharon, see ya' Mike.

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine
    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine