"Same woman?"

"Looked like her. He disappeared, but we never found him. However, our agent at the bar said that one day a pretty brunette showed up with the blond. She took the brunette over to a table with the bikers, and told them "She is for you."

"Our agent asked the brunette her name. She said 'Jake', but the blond slapped her. 'Janice' she corrected."

"You think Janice is really Jake?"

"We're certain of it. Unless Janice has the exact tattoo that Jake did, on the same ankle, with the same birthmark."

"But we're talking about a woman!" said Jack.

"Yes, but look what we have: three tough men. One now dresses up like a girl and always wears a bra. One who used to beat up his girlfriend. Now he is dominated by girl, dresses up like a maid, and servers her hand and foot. So what's so wild about another one who looks like a real woman?"

"So they have mind control, and they did something to Jake's body?"

"Yes, we think so."

"What happened to Jake?"

"Janice? Oh, the bikers all share her, like they do their other 'bitches'. A nasty term. I hope we can bust the whole lot of them. Scum."

Jack was shocked at what was going on. He had never heard of anything like this before.

"Jack, there is more information. We have reason to believe that there is a ring of women who are behind all of this. We sent some men into the field, but they failed to get inside the organization. So we sent out some women. At first, they sent back good information. But all three of them, once they got closer, all stopped reporting. We think they all crossed over to the other side."

"So how can I help?"

"You're not going to like this, but it's our only shot. A man can't get inside. A woman can, but she can only get so far before she moves to the side of her 'sisters'. We need another approach. An agent who will be a man on the job, and not betray us. But one who they will accept as one of their own."

"And how do I accomplish this?"

"By being a woman."

"Now hold on! What do you mean? I can't dress up like a woman. They'll make me in a moment. That would never work!"

"Correct. But what I propose is this. We give you surgery to make you look like a woman. We'll leave you alone down there" he said pointing to Jack's crotch, "but you'll need breasts and such. We'll train you on how to walk and talk, how to dress, how to act. Everyone will think you're a woman."

"So I can penetrate the organization."

"Yes. But you're a man, so you'll have no problem doing your job."

"I don't know. That sounds awful risky. Can I think about it?"

"Remember Jack, you're on The List now. If you turn this down..."

"In other words, I can't turn it down."

"As usual Jack, you're right. Or should I say 'Jane'?"

"Not Jane! That's my sister's name."

"Of course it is. We've actually selected the name Wendy for you. Get used to it *Wendy*. And you had better start getting used to thinking of yourself as a girl."

"Yes boss" said 'Wendy' reluctantly.

"Report to the medical center right now. We have no time to lose!"

* * *

Jack had been on many other undercover assignments before, but none like this. The first step in preparing was a cultural emersion. If he was going after the Mafia, he had to learn their customs and their traits. Their language, their figures of speech, the way they walked and talked.

Son in that regard, this training was no different. Except that ever since he woke up from the surgery at the medical center, he now had breasts. Two large mounds on his chest which jutted out proudly in front of him. They changed his whole sense of balance for his body, which made his current task of walking in six inch heels all the more difficult.

After they gave him breasts, they put implants in his hips to give him curves. A laser treatment on his chest and face were supposed to prevent the hair from growing back, but he wondered if they were lying about it be temporary.

"Oh well, at least he wouldn't have to shave anymore" he thought as he changed into his leotard and joined the real women for the lunchtime aerobics class at the fitness center.

They made him exercise hard, and his legs were starting to look good. He wiped the sweat from his brow as he danced gracefully with the other women. None of these women knew he was really a man. They just worked here. And he had every single one of them fooled.

His long hair was held up in a ponytail, which swung from side to side as he danced and dipped in time to the music. He could see his reflection on the mirrored wall, and he checked to make sure his makeup was properly applied. By now, he was getting good at putting it on. Not like the first day where they had to bring in a 'makeup artist' to show him the basics.

He scratched an itch on his left arm, and admired his long red fingernails. They got in the way at first, but now he was used to the longer nails. The only problem was that whenever he did something like work around the apartment, he always seemed to be chipping them. No matter how careful he was, he'd have to touch them up after a few days. How did women do it?

After aerobics, he showered in a private room, and changed into his dress. He had quite a collection by now. They had suggested that he wear things that showed off his new breasts, so there would be no doubt that the mounds on his chest were real. That way, he would be more readily accepted as a woman. So he wore a dress with a deep plunging "U-neck" today, one with a decidedly high hem line to boot. Even the few bosses who knew he was really a man had a hard time not looking down at his boobs as he passed them in the hall. His hips swayed side to side as he strutted, looking like a woman's walk to all but the most observant.

With his purse swung over his shoulder, he went into his bosses office. It was time for him to go out into the field. The endless hours with the women tutoring him were over. He had learned much about women, and now could easily pass for one.

"Wendy, nice to see you" said Anthony.

Jack came in, sat down, and crossed his legs. The silky pantyhose made them look perfectly smooth and tan. Even knowing that 'Wendy' was really Jack, the beauty in the chair across from his desk made Anthony squirm when he felt the tingle between his legs. 'She' had long flowing hair, a pretty face, gorgeous legs, and her well endowed bust was mostly exposed with the dress she wore.

"Hello Anthony, how are you today?" said Jack in the voice he had been working on for weeks. It was sultry dark and low.

"Wendy, the time has come to deploy you into the field. The police have received many more reports of missing men. There have also been many women who have just turned up, not knowing who they were."

"You think they used to be the men?"

"Exactly. Now we have a an agent who is keeping tabs on a group that we suspect to be involved with this matter. Her name is Ellen, and you will go meet her today at a protest at the capitol."

"What sort of protest?"

"They're protesting the inequality of women in positions of power in our government."

"I'll be there" said 'Wendy'.

* * *

Jack arrived at the protest, sign in hand. He looked around, and soon spotted Ellen. They had worked on another case together, and were on a friendly basis. She had seen a recent photo of him, so she recognized 'Wendy' right away. If not for the photo, she would have mistaken Wendy for just another woman at the protest.

"Hi Wendy, nice to see you. I'd like you to meet someone" said Ellen, leading Wendy over to a tall blond woman.

"Hi Ellen, good turnout today, huh?"

"Really good Claire. I've got a friend I'd like you to meet. This is Wendy."

"Hello, nice to meet you" said Jack, surpressing the male urge to do a firm handshake. "Ellen has told me all about you, how wonderful you are dedicating so much time to worthy causes like this."

"Its my passion" said Claire. "How come I've never seen you at one of these before?"

"Well, when I was married, the old goat didn't like me going out and about causing trouble. That's why I had to dump him. If I can't even do what I want with my own life, who am I to tell others what to do?" said Jack, using his cover story he had practiced.

"I hear you" said Claire, nodding.

"Wendy and I met in college. We organized a 'burn your bra' protest for equal rights."

"That was before I filled out. I *need* a bra now!" joked Wendy, motioning towards her very large breasts. All three laughed at the joke.

The protest went on, and the three joined the crowd shouting slogans, waving their signs, and hoping to raise awareness for their cause. There were protests all the time in the capitol, and most politicians were now jaded to them. But it was something that had to be done.

When it was all over, Wendy, Claire and Ellen went out to get a salad for lunch at a favorite local restaurant. They talked about politics and feminism, along with how women fared in the world today.

"I just read that article about how often women are victims of domestic violence. We need to do something about that." said Wendy.

"I belong to an organization that is taking a stand" replied Claire.

"When do you meet? That's just what I'm looking for" declared Wendy.

"Well, I'd have to clear it with the others. We're trying to keep things small for now. But we meet on Thursday, in case they give the OK"

"Ooh, Thursday I'm supposed to be at a seminar on women's empowerment over the university. Maybe next week?"

Jack wanted not to appear too eager. That could be a tip-off to a suspect. But by actually refusing an invitation? She would never suspect him. Ellen and he had convinced Claire that Wendy was a woman who cared deeply about women's causes. She had no clue what was really going on.

Wendy exchanged phone numbers with Claire, and they all said their good-byes. The FBI had set up an apartment for Wendy, and had falsified records, so that if they did a search on her, they would find a life's history that seemed to match the cover story. Anthony had been sure they would do a background check on Wendy. He even made a few entries in the police record system, showing that Wendy had been arrested at protests in the 80s. As far as public and private records were concerned, there really was a woman called Wendy North.

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