Transvestia

She was waiting for him. There were several women in various parts of the lobby. Bob couldn't tell which, if any, were members of the band.

"All set?" Jill asked.

He replied, "I merely have to press the activator in my purse and all the power in the building will go off. Another press and the power returns with our people in control." He silently added, "I hope."

Six of the women in the lobby had discreetly taken predetermined positions. Two were by the entrance. One was by a ventilator. Three were by the interior door.

Jill nodded to the girl by the vent. She reached up to steady herself as she checked her nylon. Bob noticed that her steadying hand was in front of the grill. He saw her drop something in. It was so casually done that he wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't been watching for it.

Jill told him to press the activator. He did, and the building was plunged in darkness. No light even came through the special polarized glass door. There were a few screams.

"Put this mask on," Jill's voice was muffled. She thrust something into his hands. He did as he was told.

If all had gone as planned, a force field would now be blocking the entrance, and a non-lethal nerve gas would be spreading through the building.

By penlights, they made their way to the interior door. The three girls had opened it just before the lights went out. They were nowhere in sight.

Bob led Jill to the broadcasting studio. As they walked, she was listening to a small radio.

"All units check in green on operation Golden Girl," rasped a voice from the radio. "Scattered resistance. No reports of casualities."

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