Inner Demons - AKA Journals of an Angry Trans Gurl
© 2017 Haylee V
* This is a true account of my life experiences. All persons portrayed in this story are based on actual people I've met throughout my life, and the events portrayed actually happened. No malice is intended to those individuals involved, and names have been altered to protect the identities of the people portrayed. *
* This is a copyrighted property owned exclusively by Ronald Heyward Bailey, Jr., written under the pseudonym Haylee V. Exclusive rights are hereby given to host it on Big Closet Top Shelf or any of its affiliated companies. If you are reading it anywhere else, please be aware that you are reading a pirated copy, and should inform one of the web mistresses of Big Closet (Piper, Erin, or Sephrena) the web address where you found it. *
* Thank you for taking the time to read this story. I hope you find it as enjoyable to read as it was for me to write -- Haylee V *
This story, and the accompanying journal, contain scenes of an intense sexual nature, and some dialogue that may be construed as racist to some people, thus it may not be suitable for everyone. While reading of the journal is not required for the understanding of the overall story, it does provide valuable insight into the inner workings of Geoff's mind. If you are easily offended, please skip the journal.
End of Warning
* And now, on to the story. *
"So," the Colonel began, "You're probably wondering why you're here of all places, and why all the cloak and dagger stuff, right?"
"I must say, the thought did cross my mind. What gives?"
"Well, Tiffany told me what happened to you, and being a concerned parent, I ran a check on you. It seems you've had a rather... interesting life, Mr. Daniels.."
"Geoff," I interrupted.
"Uh, right. Geoff. You have a rather lengthy and unusual set of skills as well. You're sort of a Jack-of-all-trades. We can use those in our current assignment. That's why you're here with us. We want to offer you a chance to change your life, and do something useful with it. I'm not going to give you the whole 'Your country needs you' speal, You've been through enough of that already in your life. Suffice to say, with the skills Baba taught you, you'd make a valued member of my team."
"Baba?" I questioned. "What does she have to do with anything? She was just an old crone I hung out with in my teens. She's innocent, and I wish you'd leave the dead in peace. She did nothing to threaten this country. She was just an old gypsy I befriended. Nothing more."
"Oh, but she was, Geoff. Much more than you realize. Your beloved 'Baba' was a former KGB agent. She knew several of the top brass on a first name basis. You still have the tarot deck she gave you, right?"
"That old thing? Sure, but I haven't used it in a few years. Why?"
"The pictures on the cards, especially the Major Arcana. They're all the higher-ups in the KGB. Mob bosses, etc. She wanted to make sure she couldn't be found with such incriminating evidence, should they ever find her. And she did teach you Russian as well, right?"
"Yeah, I guess. Baba was always slipping back into her native tongue when we would talk. But I haven't used any of that since she passed, over ten years ago. I'm rusty at best, and a complete novice at worst. I highly doubt I could carry a decent conversation now."
"But you know the subtleties. The idioms and slang. The double and triple negatives, and how to use them properly. We can retrain you to get your fluency up, but you know things about the language that books can't teach you."
"OK, let's say I'm even remotely interested. What's in it for me? People have been using me all my life, to further their own agendas, usually at my expense. This time, I want something back."
"How about your country. Don't you have any pride? Any patriotism?"
"You mean the same country that classified me as gifted because of my IQ, then forced me to endure seven years of speech pathology because I had a lisp, stuttered, and had a few other, minor speech impediments? Or the one who allowed my uncle to molest me for seven years, because my story wasn't 'credible'? Or maybe the same country that would only give my mother $16 a month in food assistance while she was out on strike, while they gave her Black, childless co-worker $500 a month in welfare and $250 a month in food stamps, even after she showed up at the office driving a brand new Cadillac?"
"I'm sorry you feel that way, and that I've erroneously opened some apparently fresh and still festering wounds. Of course, your lodging, meals, and all amenities will be covered at our (or rather Uncle Sam's) expense, and you will be provided with a sizable per diem. We will cover the child support for Bethany as well. While here, you will carry the rank of an acting Major of the Air Force, and be subject to its rules and regulations, and be treated as any other military officer would, with the accompanying perks. You will be subjected to a government scanning process, and once you've cleared that, you'll carry a G-2, CRYPTO / SCI clearance, with Q- and L-level designations. I assure you, you won't ever have to worry about traffic tickets again, or obtaining a job."
"And if I refuse?"
"We take you back to Rock Hill tonight, and life goes on. No job, no wife, no security. You just go back to the same hopeless situation you came from. No harm, no foul, but no better, either..."
"What the hell. I've already lost just about everything anyway. What's freedom, or a soul, between... umm... friends?" I questioned.
"Well, in that case, Geoff, welcome to Alpha Team 7, Delta Force. You report directly to me. Any problems, I'll handle. Oh, and one other thing: We're a team here. We never travel alone. You'll be assigned a liaison while on base, and a staff car and driver. Where you go, one of them will be as well."
"Can I choose the liaison? I have a certain supply sergeant in mind..."
"If he... or she... passes muster, then of course. But your tasks here, and your association with Team Alpha, remain secret. Only 6 people know the composition of this team- the five of us in this room now, and Rawhide. You'll meet him soon. Understand?"
"Aye, Sir," I said, as I rose and gave him a crisp salute.
"And knock it off with that Sir and saluting crap. When we're assembled, we're equals. There's no rank among us. As I told you, the salutes are for brass. If there's nothing else, then?"
As everyone, myself included, nodded, the Colonel dismissed us.
"Hold up a minute, Geoff," he said, just as I was about to leave.
Handing me a manila folder, he explained.
"In this folder is your complete dossier: orders, previous assignments, CO's, achievements, promotions, etc., along with a military ID (you can give Tanya back the 'fake' one she gave you), passport, and anything else you need, as well as a chit book. Anything you need can be purchased with chits at the PX. They only have value while on base. If you need cash, see me. Any non-relevant info has been blacked out. Only those with proper clearance can read that info, thus the two cover sheets. Our password for this week is bluebird, and your codename is 'Katsu'. I'll let you know when you can meet Rawhide. By the way, Susan and Tiffany will be here in about an hour for your counseling session. All they know is you're under my wing, and assisting me. They both know not to ask questions. Dismissed!"
With the utterance of that one word, I was left alone to ponder my new situation. Just what the Hell had I gotten myself into???
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