He was mentally reviewing the ways he had learned to kill in unarmed combat when he snickered. If he attacked this man, it would literally be unarmed ...ombat.The investigator, seeing Doug’s smile, looked like he was going to have a stroke. He leaned over the table where Doug sat, handcuffed to a chair, and screamed. Spittle was flecking the table top and Doug’s shirt as the man ranted and raved until he ran out of breath.“I would like to invoke my right to counsel.” was all Doug would say,. No, his neckslimmed down. When he finally managed to choke out a gasp, it was not thedeep, masculine tone he was acustomed to. It was like his skin, being nowsoft, smooth and... feminine. He was dimly aware that his voice wascloser to what would be known in musical circles as a contralto incomparison to his previous baritone, but he had barely any time toregister this trivia. The burning sensations passed up through his faceand more cries and gasps followed as his facial features. More

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