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Unit 19
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
UNIT19.TXT
a new fantasy story by Liz M. (hope you like it!)
Part I
Nearly everyone who worked at the Agency had heard about Unit 19. Some
doubted that it even existed. Indeed, the rumors about Unit 19 were pretty
fantastic, and it was hard to believe the government keep secrets from its
own professional spies.
In fact, Unit 19 did exist, but its activities and membership were known
only at the top levels of the Agency. It was formed in the late 1960's to
"contravene grievous acts of sedition against the Governments of the United
States and its Allies." The unit had priority access to any intelligence
gathered by any department. Its forty operatives worked only on projects
designated as "Significance: AA" by the Director and the President.
Melinda Clayton, aged thirty-five, had been a member of Unit 19 for ten
years and had been Unit Head for the last six. She reported straight to
the Admiral Conlon, Deputy Director of the Agency. Besides Conlon, only
the Director and the President knew Melinda's official status.
The Admiral had ambivalent feelings about Melinda. Certainly, she was the
most effective leader that Unit 19 had ever had. The unit's record under
Melinda was perfect. Twenty-eight assignments, twenty-eight successes.
However, she was demanding to the point of ruthlessness. Though she worked
her operatives extremely hard, nobody dared complain; anyone challenging
Melinda Clayton would be dispatched quickly. Conlon kept waiting for
Melinda's behavior to cross the line. It hadn't, yet.
John Lyle possessed a 165 IQ and a photographic memory. Had he been a
better physical specimen, he might have been a superb field agent.
However, at five-feet seven he was too small to even apply for such a job.
Instead, John Lyle was Chief Analyst for Unit 19. Melinda had worked very
hard to get John into her unit, for he was, in a cerebral sense, the
Agency's "golden boy." However, he'd become rather too successful for
Melinda's taste. On more than one occasion he'd even attracted the
attention of the Director.
Lately, Melinda had assigned John to low-profile tasks, the sort requiring
slow, painstaking work. She'd hoped to keep him quiet for awhile. But
John complained twice about his assignments to Admiral Conlon.
Conlon, naturally, told Melinda about John's complaints. Melinda was
livid.
"I can't have my own people going over my head, Billy," she said. "Lyle's
got to go."
"We can't move him into another unit just now, Melinda," Conlon replied.
"There's nothing open. Besides, he's the best operative you have, maybe
the best you've ever had. Remember how hard you went after him when he
first came to the Agency?"
"He's insubordinate," Melinda protested.
"What do you expect? He wants your job. Look, if you don't need him
around, find something for him in the field. I'll approve it."
"He's not cleared for field work," Melinda said.
"I said I'd approve it, and I'll get him cleared."
Melinda thought for a moment. "How about something in deep cover?" she
asked.
The Admiral looked at her carefully. "How long?" he asked.
"Six or eight months."
Conlon wondered how such an attractive woman could be so nasty. "All
right," he said, "put Lyle in deep cover. Don't get him killed, though."
Currently, Unit 19 had no assignment which called for an operative in deep
cover; Melinda would have to wait to find the right spot for John Lyle.
She pinned her hopes on the CGE investigation. CGE, Incorporated was a
bio-technology firm with several research areas and a diverse product line.
It was under investigation by the Agency for possible violations of
technology transfer laws. An operative from another unit had already been
placed in the personnel department, so now it would be relatively easy to
plant someone else in the corporation.
Melinda had heard that the CGE affair was growing more serious and more
covert. She hoped it would be turned over to Unit 19, for it was precisely
the sort of situation she needed. She could drop Lyle inside CGE and leave
him there for most of a year. Lyle would be bored silly, too, working
anonymously in a corporation.
It took a few weeks, but at last the orders came down for Unit 19. Melinda
had inherited the CGE matter. The question now was exactly where to place
Lyle; there were several possibilities. The sales division? The research
division? Scouting reports indicated otherwise; not enough general
information passed through either area. No, Melinda realized that Lyle
would have to infiltrate CGE's central administration. This was the only
place where he might have access to all the appropriate documents.
Melinda had a list of CGE positions which were open or which might come
open in the next few months. Damn, she thought as she looked at the spots
available in CGE central administration. There was only one such position
on the list, and Lyle was hardly right for it.
Or was he? An idea came to Melinda. Conlon would hit the roof when he
heard about it. Melinda didn't worry too much about this; she usually got
her way with the Admiral. If he gave her trouble, she could always offer
to have one of their special weekend "meetings" at the lake resort.
Melinda began to prepare things.
John Lyle was pulled off his other assignments, and word was leaked to him
that he was going under deep cover. John was excited by the prospect.
He'd always wanted to go out into the field, and this would be his first
chance. That afternoon he received a handwritten note from Melinda. She
wanted to discuss his new assignment, the note said, but she wanted to do
it away from the office. Could he come to her apartment for dinner
tomorrow?
John was stunned by this. Melinda would hardly speak to him these days;
now she wanted to be nice to him. Perhaps she was just feeling guilty, or
perhaps she had an ulterior motive. Whichever it was, John could not
possibly refuse her invitation. He called Melinda's secretary, who gave
him directions to Melinda's apartment.
The next evening, John drove to the address he had been given. It was a
small, elegant apartment house. John rang the bell for number 7. A buzzer
sounded and the door unlocked electronically. John walked down the hall to
apartment 7 and knocked on the door. Melinda answered immediately. She
was wearing a short black dress, and her blonde hair fell loose about her
shoulders. John had never seen her dressed in anything except a business
suit, and he'd never seen her hair this way, either. Melinda looked
fantastic.
"Come in, come in," she said, taking his hand. Her apartment was tasteful
and very feminine, not at all what he'd expected. They had drinks and
talked. They had a lovely dinner which Melinda claimed to prepared herself
(though John doubted it). There was no talk of a new assignment. Instead,
Melinda apologized for her recent behavior.
"It's very hard, John, to deal with the sorts of demands I must deal with
each day," she said, leading him from the dining room to the living room.
He sat on the couch. She poured him another glass of wine and sat down
next to him. "It makes you a little crazy sometimes, and sometimes you
forget about people's feelings."
"Well, uh, Melinda, perhaps I haven't been the best employee. I never
wanted to -"
Melinda put her hand to his lips. "John, don't worry about it. Let's
change the subject. I have to tell you about your assignment. I know how
much you want to get into the field, so I've arranged it. Admiral Conlon
has approved it already."
Melinda briefed John on CGE. John was anxious to know what sort of
"regular" work he'd be doing at the company's headquarters, but Melinda
wouldn't tell him yet. She did tell him that he'd need minor plastic
surgery.
John was a little stunned by this news. "Surgery!" he exclaimed. "I
thought you did surgery when somebody's face became known. I've never been
out in the field, so nobody knows me. Why would I need plastic surgery?"
"You need plastic surgery because I've decided it's necessary for the
assignment," said Melinda curtly. "Don't get worked up about it.
Everything will be reversible, or almost everything."
"Melinda, maybe somebody else should do this. I'm not comfortable with the
idea of plastic surgery," John said. He was growing suspicious that
Melinda had something unpleasant in mind for him.
"Oh, no, John, you're perfect for this assignment!" she said. "I have it
all worked out, and you're not going to desert me now. Besides, when you
joined the unit you signed a lot of papers. We don't need your permission
to do plastic surgery."
Melinda moved close to him. She put her right hand to his face, then she
pricked his neck with something. John looked at her in amazement. In a
few seconds he fell unconscious.
He awoke later, much later. He heard Melinda's voice. He tried to move,
but he couldn't.
"Relax, John," Melinda said. Now he could see her face hovering over him.
She'd changed her clothes and was wearing a sweatshirt and jeans. John
realized that he was no longer in Melinda's apartment. He was lying in a
bed. His wrists and ankles were tied to the bed rails. He had the urge to
struggle, to shout, but he knew that such actions would be useless. Two
women in lab coats stood by Melinda.
"Sorry for the restraints, but we don't want you to hurt yourself. Oh, and
I'm sorry about the way we brought you here. I simply couldn't resist it,"
Melinda said, smiling.
It seemed to John that she was enjoying his predicament. He was annoyed
with her, and he'd get back at her somehow. Now, though, he tried to calm
himself down. Probably he'd just be getting a nose job or something. He
could live with it. If it looked awful, he'd get it fixed when the
assignment was over.
"We'll have to do rather more in the surgical area than you might have
expected," Melinda said. Was she reading his mind? John's anxiety level
shot up again.
"Specifically, your nose and chin will be adjusted. After that, let's see:
breast implants, a tummy tuck, hips pumped up, adam's apple shaved,
extensive electrolysis. I'm afraid you'll lose your beard forever, John.
However, you'll be pleased to know that Admiral Conlon prohibited us from
going any further. So, you're going to LOOK like a woman, but you won't BE
a woman. You'll just have to be careful, that's all."
One of the women in the room pulled a mask over John's face. He smelled
the anesthetic. Melinda continued talking as John fell unconscious once
again.
"We'll keep you out until most of the surgery is finished. When you wake
up, you'll go by the name Lisa. Lisa Randall."
End of Part I - Part II coming soon
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