Mission Impossible?

Chapter 7

Amber sat back, closed her eyes, and hoped it would be over soon. A technician with spiked hair quickly and expertly plucked Amber's eyebrows into two feminine arches. She stood back and looked at Major Brewer, for approval.

"Great job. Very nice," Major Brewer said.

"Let me see. Oh Clare, you always leave a little too much on the end. Clean it up here and here," the makeup artist said.

"Yes, Bobbi," the girl said.

"After that prepare her for the laser treatment."

"Honey, you have shaved recently haven't you?" she asked Amber.

"Ah...yes. Just yesterday," Amber replied.

"Good, you know the treatments works better on smooth skin. We are going to start on your legs today, since we finished your face yesterday," the makeup artist explained.

Amber groaned and sunk lower in the chair with her bottom lip pushed out.

"Sit up, Amber and let Clare finish your brows," Janice Brewer scolded her.

"It hurts and I'm tired. I mean, the facials, laser treatments, teeth bleaching, pedicures, manicures...everything."

"Now you listen young lady," Bobbi cut in and looked her patient in the eye with her fists on her hips and placing heavy emphasis on the two words - young lady, "your Mom has paid a lot of money to get you to look this good. So you better be appreciative, otherwise it may be back out of the dresses and back to shop class for you." The spa's owner turned and winked at Major Brewer and walked away.

Amber's eyes widened and her jaw dropped at the woman's speech, then a mischievous grin grew out of her surprise. "Oh MOM...I am appreciative of what you're doing for me...really, I am." Amber giggled at the Major, whose jaw tightened and eyes narrowed.

Amber sat back and closed her eyes trying to ignore the pain that spiked hair Clare was inflicting on her. She was back in Colonel Washington's office again with the tall black woman explaining what Amber would do.

"I am glad you are part of the team. You will report directly to the Major. Captain Logan and Dan Parsons will be the liaisons to the CID and the CIA. I am the Project Coordinator. I have Project Oversight.

You are going to be sent in under deep cover. The intelligence we have gathered points that the transportation division of the Cartel may be our best opportunity to interdict shipments of cocaine going to the U.S. A man named Angel Corazon is the Cartel deputy in charge of seeing the cocaine is shipped to the distributors. He rose through the Cartel to become one of the favored deputies and he's extremely intelligent. He has found many infiltrators, in his division and other divisions.

However, we plan to appeal to his weak point to gain access the Cartel. It seems he has an appetite for transgendered men. He can be seen occasionally in Bogota, Columbia, where he frequents a local club that has female impersonator shows. He usually seeks out the headliner of the show or the most attractive transvestite."

The Colonel stopped briefly and poured herself a cup of coffee from a carafe. She offered a cup to Amber, who shook her head no, then to the others. Only the CIA liaison accepted a steaming mug but declined the offer for powdered cream and sugar. She then walked behind her desk, sat down and waited.

Amber thought about what she had been told and then spoke, "I'm not a performer, Ma'am."

"Major Brewer and Captain Logan believe differently. They've seen you at the club in St. Louis the other night and say you dance very well." Colonel Washington ignored Amber's shocked look and continued. "We will make sure your act will have a great impact on Mr. Corazon. While you make a pretty girl, we are also going to help you refine your look with the help of some professionals."

Amber sat atop the examining table in the doctor's office. The paper gown crinkled as she shifted uncomfortably on the cold table. She crossed and uncrossed her slim ankles, then lifted her legs straight out to admire her brightly colored toenails.

"It's cold in here," she spoke, then sighed from boredom.

"You're just nervous. Most people are when they visit a doctor." Janice smiled, crossed her legs and tugged down the hem of her black skirt.

Amber noted that Janice Brewer was always immaculately dressed, whether in or out of uniform. Today, she wore a black mini skirt and a matching jacket over a red silk top. Expensive gold earrings dangled from her underneath her styled hair, while matching bracelets were worn on a slender wrist. Nude hose, black pumps, matching her clutch finished her outfit. Amber smiled at her mentor and shifted again, aware she wore only an ugly, white, and thin paper gown.

"Are you seeing anyone?"

"No, not at the moment."

"What about Captain Logan?" Amber asked timidly, pretending to look at her fingernails.

At the name of the Army CID liaison, Major Brewer raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow and replied, "We dated a couple of times but nothing serious. We are just friends now." The woman then glanced up at the young TV and commented, "He is very attractive."

"Yeah, I guess so." Amber answered and continued to look at her newly polished fingernails. "Did you ever think of getting married?"

"Yes," the woman said, "but I haven't found the right guy. I have a goal. I want to be the first female full bird colonel in Army Intelligence. A serious relationship could interfere with my goal."

Amber glanced up at the woman quizzically for a moment then nodded and moved again on the examining table. The army major tilted her head to the left and placed two fingers on her lips in thought. She was about to question her young charge when the door opened and a petite, dark skinned woman in a white lab coat entered the room.

"Good morning," the woman said in perfect English and extended a hand to Amber, then to Janice. "I am Doctor Liki Shinhashi." The small Indian woman sat on the stool and picked up Amber's medical files on the clipboard. "Wonderful weather we are having, isn't it? Let's see what your chart says." She then sat quietly and scanned the pages in the file. Closing the file, she turned to the Major and asked, "Ms. Brewer, would you mind leaving us for a moment? I need to speak to Amber alone."

"Certainly, Doctor." Janice nodded.

When the door closed, Doctor Shinhasi placed the file on a table, folded her hands and looked at Amber. "Amber, do you understand what you are doing? You will be modifying your body by taking these hormones. What you have done so far is only cosmetic and can be reversed." The Doctor held up a small cylinder in her hand and explained, "When we insert this packet, low level estrogen will be released and start to change your body. While the levels will not give you breasts or atrophy your penis, your skin will be softer, you will not be as strong or muscular and in certain situations, you may find yourself more emotional. This will last about 5-7 years unless the packet is removed."

Amber looked into the Doctor's brown eyes and nodded. "Yes Doctor, I know and I want to do this."

One studio wall was lined with mirrors, while the side walls had handrails at hip level. Amber stood alone in the room waiting for the instructor. She was wearing a pale blue leotard and black dancing slippers. Her makeup was perfect for midday and a young girl. Her skin had become clearer and softer. The hormones and vitamins had caused her hair to grow quick and thick. It was now past her ears but not yet long enough to pull back in a ponytail.
The door behind her opened up and a slim man in a black leotard walked into the room and toward her.

"Hello. You must be Amber. I am Tad Cox, your instructor. Have you had any dance instruction before? No? Then we will start slowly but you must promise to work at it, promise? Good...let's start."

The questions and answers rapid fired at her. Amber nodded at the bundle of energy, took a deep breath and followed Tad's instructions on stretching and limbering up.

"Don't worry honey; you're going to be great. You've been fantastic in rehearsal all week." Tony reassured.

Amber did not reply but stared out past the stage curtains toward the crowded club floor and bit her bottom lip nervously.

"Honey? Amber?"

"What…oh yeah…Tony, I'll be fine." She glanced over her shoulder at the slim performer standing behind her.

Tony smiled and patted the petite TV's shoulder, then gave her a hug. "You look stunning. I'm jealous you know. You could be her."

Amber flashed a big smile at the compliment. “Thanks, it took a lot of work. I had lots of help."

"Amber, one minute till curtain," the stage manager announced.

"Better get to your mark. I've got to get dressed. Knock 'em dead, honey." Tony wished running toward the dressing room.

"30 seconds, Amber." The stage manager pointed toward the stage.

Amber let out a deep breath. She nodded at him and walked onto the stage, where she checked her makeup in the polished fender. She stepped onto the shiny footrest and moved into the position dictated by her coach and Major Brewer.

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and waited for her cue and the curtain to rise. Instantly, she was transported back a month to a small club near St. Louis and to her first time on stage when Major Brewer had to push her onto the stage. A former family restaurant on the south side now catered to the alternative crowd from a small local college. The interior of the club was minimal in its decor. A few mirror balls dropped from the ceiling danced lights off their surface onto decorative mirrors that lined the walls of the club. The furniture was cheaply made conference hall chairs and tables. The owner originally served drinks in glassware but switched to plastic cups weeks later after he found the college clientele cared less about stemware than the alcohol served in them.

The club's stage was tiny, barely more than a raised platform eight by ten feet. While a single singer or lone comedian would have no issue and four piece bands could squeeze onto the dais, a performer who was a dancer was limited. Amber found this to be quickly true at her first rehearsal; however, her performance team devised a way around the space issue in time for her debut.

When her premiere set came, Amber froze when she heard her cue for the first time. Major Brewer pushed her from behind the wings onto the stage. Fortunately, when she heard the music Pavlovian training overrode her fears and she began her act. She strutted out in a platinum blonde wig, faux diamonds, and a black leather costume consisting of a bandeau bra, low-rise mini shorts, and over the knee boots. She lip-synced Christina Aguilera and danced to the song “Dirrty” as rehearsed and the crowd politely clapped when she finished. She began the second song “Beautiful” to her set and then she began to improvise. She identified the audience members who were having fun and stepped off the stage to flirt with them. She discovered the crowd loved being part of the act. She waved, winked, squeezed shoulders, and blew kisses while she performed. The audience shouted suggestively at her and she pretended to be shocked. Her set ended with loud applause and shouts. She bowed and waved several times and rushed off stage into Major Brewer's arms where she began to cry.

The cooling sensation of dry ice fog as it billowed across the stage pulled Amber back to the present. She took a deep breath and waited for the curtain to rise and her cue. She shifted in her position slightly and heard the stage manager's announcement.

"Tonight the Peacock proudly presents to South Beach for the first time, Amber Kain, as Shania Twain."

The curtain rose and the spot light illuminated a black Harley-Davidson 1200, a larger than normal bike, custom made and outfitted with chrome accessories. Fog encircled the bike, while Amber lay sexily on the super-sized twin gas tanks with her high-heeled boots on the black leather seat. She leaned on one elbow with her long black curls over one shoulder and draped across her lower breast. When the music started she slowly rose, swung her legs to the front and slid off the chromed out motorcycled and strutted to the end of the runway. Amber was dressed in a black lace cat suit tailored to aid her illusion, with over the knee black patent leather boots. The petite TV hit her mark and began to lip-sync to the song "That Don't Impress Me Much".

She was half way through the first stanza when a younger guy from the audience walked to the stage with a dollar between his fingers. Amber waited a few seconds and playfully skipped over to him. She winked at him, took his bill and kissed him lightly on the lips. Watching him turn around, she flipped one hand by her wrist and perfectly lip-synced "that don't impress me much". Laughter and snickers erupted from the audience and the young man turned quickly around only to find Amber looking innocent but with a bright twinkle in her eye.

She danced down the catwalk where she spied an older man sitting with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face, next to a woman who was obviously his wife. The pretty TV waved coquettishly at him but the man remained stoic. Amber broke character, stopped mid stride put her hands on her hips and leaned forward, knowing the tailored cat suit created the illusion of large cleavage. With a sultry look, she put her painted lips together and blew a kiss at him. The man blinked and only shifted in his seat. Amber snapped back up and looked to stage right, then stage left in mock disbelief. Several shouts from the audience members asked her to repeat the kiss to them. She looked to the man's wife and asked if he was this way at home. The woman next to the man stopped giggling and replied to the illusionist that the reaction was more than she got out of him in the past year. Amber joined in the audience's laughter and twirled away to the song's instrumental stanza.

After the song's brief instrumental, Amber continued to lip-sync and flirt with the audience until she spotted a statuesque blonde at the far end of the stage. After she made eye contact with the platinum goddess, the entertainer carefully stalked over to her prey. The dancer motioned for her to come to the stage. The woman rose and walked to the stage. The woman was very tall, tanned, dressed in a floral print mini dress and wore high heels. She looked Amber in the eye even though she was on the stage and the silver haired goddess stood on the floor. She moved forward a bit and tilted her head to the left. The muse smiled, placed her hands on Amber's face and kissed the TV performer. The crowd oohed and ahhed at the erotic scene. She watched the goddess return to her table and friends, Amber then returned to character, stepped back and made a phone gesture with her fingers and asked the blonde to call. She joined the chorus and ended the song at her expected mark. The audience applauded loudly while several catcalls and offers were shouted out. Amber bowed her head in acceptance, waved and blew kisses back at the crowd.

The stage lights blinked out and stage was in darkness. Amber listened to the fading applause, while she flipped the hair out of her eyes, caught her breath and waited expectantly for Major Brewer. She heard the footsteps approach and felt the jacket pushed into her hands and immediately slipped it on. The song started and she closed her eyes and counted the beats. At the fourth beat, the stage lights exploded on and Amber began the final part of her set now wearing a patent leather jacket that matched her boots. She hooked the first line of "I'm Gonna Getcha Good" perfectly and danced to stage left where she flirted with a set of cute guys in a corner table and asked for their help off the stage. Egged on by his friends, one of the men stood and picked her easily off the stage and set her on the floor. Amber slid up against him and gave him a tight hug, suppressed a giggle and rose on her toes to kiss him on the cheek. She then squeezed his huge bicep, turned to the audience and fanned herself in mock sexual heat. Claps and laughter answered her faux frustration.

Amber skipped through the audience touching a shoulder here and there, pushing away a hand or two and waving, while she sang. She came across an older couple who was having fun and leapt onto the silver haired man's lap. She proceeded to nestle into his arms and purred cat like. The man simply laughed, hugged her and patted her ass. Amber kissed him on the cheek and winked at his wife who stared in disbelief at her husband with another man. The crowd shouted catcalls and offers for her to sit on their laps.

The TV illusionist spied off to the right an attractive couple who stood to watch her perform. The woman moved to the beat of the song, while her mate stood behind her, his hands on her slim hips. Amber quickly stepped over to the pair and began to draw the woman out and away from her partner, where she stepped behind her and replaced him. Amber hands moved up and down the woman's hips, while she danced to the song's beat enjoying the attention. Amber knew the audience liked the scene but was aware of the short time she had left in her set. She squeezed the woman's hips one last time and turned toward the end of the stage when she reached out and took the woman's partner up the stairs. Once on the stage Amber stripped off the leather jacket and danced around the handsome man letting him and the audience know what she wanted. As the song came to its conclusion, she led her captive to the motorcycle where she exaggerated another fake swoon after watching him mount the Harley and climbed on behind him. Amber raised her arms in triumph timed with the song's finale.

The audience erupted in applause and shouts. Amber jumped off the bike and led her partner to the edge of the stage. There they bowed and she stepped back and clapped with the crowd for him. She walked him to the stairs and applauded him again, waved to the audience, blew a kiss and bowed again. The curtain closed and she excitedly jumped into Major Brewer's arms.

"That was Amber Lynn Kain as Shania Twain. Give her another big hand."

Backstage Marilyn Monroe teetered over to Amber, dressed in a copy of the famous white, rhinestone dress the American public knew so well and hugged her then congratulated her, "Great set honey."

"Thanks Tony…ah…Marilyn. Break a leg," Amber said.

Marilyn batted an eye sexily, blew her a kiss and strutted onto the stage.

Twice per night Amber slinked off her polished chromed crotch rocket and amazed the audience with her sexuality and innocent teasing. Amber continued to captivate and excite every audience she met for the next two weeks, when following the Saturday night performance she found a dozen roses in the communal dressing room for her.

"Looks like Amber's made it." Leona commented smelling the aroma of the red flowers.

"What will your 'aunt' think of those, baby?" Cindy Fella asked getting dressed into her Janet Jackson outfit, complete with malfunctioning bustier.

"Mmm…I don't know. But they're beautiful, aren't they?" Amber beamed.

The next day, Amber and Major Brewer were lounging around the apartment complex's pool.

"Was there a note with the roses?" Major Brewer asked.

"Not that I saw. I asked the girls if they noticed one when the flowers were delivered and they said no."

The blonde Army Major paused to think. "Then we will assume you just have a fan." She smiled at her protégé and commented, "I am sure you have more than one, especially after your performance last night. You were very good."

Amber beamed with the thought of having many admirers around her and realized, "You were there last night?"

"Yes, I saw both shows."

"But I didn't see you in either audience."

"I was at the far end of the bar."

"And you liked both sets?"

Janice Brewer adjusted the strap of her bikini top as she turned around to face her subordinate and lay on her stomach. "Yes and so did everyone else. The men around me seemed fascinated by you. Your illusion came off well. The hair extensions worked much better than the wig and the costume is great. I am glad we went with the lace, instead of the black leather outfit. You've much improved since St. Louis."

"I've worked very hard Major." Amber stretched in her deck chair, reached down and poured buttered color tanning oil along her legs. She rubbed the oil in her legs and hips, her fingers worked the oil under her thong's strap. Part of Amber's Miami ritual was to tan daily for two to three hours daily. She had purchased several swimsuits to avoid tan lines, only to wear the black thong bikini. She moved the straps around to prevent the lines forming but her success was limited and lines were becoming noticeable. She would have to figure a way to sunbathe nude a few days. She rubbed the lotion onto her arms and flat belly, then lay back on the beach chair and closed her eyes.

"Amber," the Major's brows furrowed, "you've not been approached by anyone at the club or here have you?"

"No, Major." She opened one eye, "Something wrong?"

The Major casually looked past the pool and chain link fence to the apartment's parking lot, where two Latinos sat in a blue, low-slung sports car. The two men had watched them for a several minutes since she had noticed them. There was nothing unusual about men noticing her or Amber; it was just training and her own natural paranoia. She filed the faces and the car away in her memory and turned to ask, "No. Hand me the oil."