RANSVESTIA

frame of James E. Barrett crossed the threshold.

"Look what the computer just dumped on my desk!" he thundered, waving a fistful of cards in the air, “I hope you have a good explanation, Cooper, if only for your own sake. As for you, Brewer, you crazy ba-" His voice tailed off as he turned and met Cynthia's flashing eyes. "Er-excuse me, ma'am. I thought I'd find Mr. Brewer in here."

"Miss Cynthia Brewer," she introduced herself, coolly while remain- ing seated, "thanks to your generous financial assistance, Mr. Barrett."

"But-but-!?" there seemed to be marbles in his mouth. He backed away, thoroughly confused.

Harry seized the opportunity to launch a counter attack. Rising to his feet, he confronted his adversary.

"See here, this is all part of a Top Secret scheme that I've been cooking for months," Harry fibbed, "You haven't been told because you don't have a need to know. Now get out of here, and for goodness' sake keep quiet, or you'll spoil everything." He managed to push the accountant out and closed the door again.

Jim Barrett retreated down the hall, muttering to himself.

Harry flopped into his chair, thankful the crisis was over, and spoke into the intercom: "Kathy, make an appointment with the Head Man immediately. I must get to him before Barrett does."

"Yes, boss. Right away!" Kathy acknowledged.

"It's a deal, then, I assume?" Cynthia inquired confidently.

Harry sucked in his breath. It would be easier to claim that he had concocted a plan requiring his agent to be disguised as a woman than try to explain that the agent had the delusion of being one. "I suppose so," he sighed, "You can have your baubles, but they'll remain Agency Prop- erty, of course."

"Oh, thank you, Chiefie," planting a kiss on the check of her astonished boss, "I don't care who owns them, as long as I can wear them!"

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