by C. R. Daems
"I'd like to try working alone and believe Jasmin might also—if we can convince the directors they owe us extra time off for saving them having to assign two ZAP agents."
"That would certainly be helpful, especially in the beginning with so few agents and the high demand for them we expect. I'll run it by Matel, but I like the idea. You certainly can't do much with twelve hours off, and you don't get weekends. And I wouldn't mind getting back to the office. It's important for Matel and me to understand the kinds of situations our agents are going to encounter, but there are lots of other issues he and I should be working on."
* * *
For the next couple of weeks, I was the one who stayed the closest to Patterson and she seemed resigned to having me there. At least, she stopped giving me dirty looks. Liang had said usually FBI security details were boring. She thought it would be roughly the same for ZAP agents except for that one-percent of the time, when they were fighting for their client’s life and their own. I thought that was the part the men would love. I felt sure I'd love the challenge, but I found the life of the client interesting, which reduced the boredom significantly. I thought it would be even better when I had him or her twenty-four-seven.
As the time passed, I wasn't sure whether to dismiss the threat and concede the emails just rants or to be concerned that the individual had a plan and wasn't going to pull a Hinckley and just walk up and try to shoot her. Liang seemed to have similar thoughts, because her paranoia seemed to have ratcheted up a notch—if that was possible.
It was midday when we exited the Homewood Suites where Patterson had given a campaign speech. A small crowd had gathered in the parking lot close to her bus, waving signs and chanting, "Bigot, Racist, this is America not Iran." I was scanning the crowd while we walked toward her bus looking for any hostile movements when I heard the two shots and breaking glass.
I spun into a snake stance, drawing my gun. As I a rotated through the 360 degree turn on my way to the ground, I saw Liang pointing in the opposite direction of the crowd and a car speeding away with its rear window shattered. Liang had obviously seen something where I wasn't looking. I berated myself. But she had that covered, so I continued my rotation into a sitting position, facing the crowd again. The FBI had all turned to face the car, while two had begun moving to get between Patterson and the car. Just then, a man with a gun pointing in Patterson's direction stepped out from behind a woman waving a sign that read "Bigotry is a disease."
I fired, hitting him in the chest and driving him backward. He jerked again as another bullet hit him—Liang's. I fired again, hitting him in the head. By now, everyone had dropped their signs and were running or lying on the ground. Scanning the area, I saw the FBI had Patterson by her arms and were propelling her toward the bus.
Damn, I had been too busy watching in the direction of the crowd to notice the car on the other side. Good thing Liang was here. Then a thought struck me, and I spun out of my sitting stance and raced toward the front of the bus. I passed it at a run, noticing out of the corner of my eye Patterson had just reached the landing.
As I cleared the front of the bus, a man was raising an assault rifle to his shoulder. I dove forward, firing as I flew toward the ground. Fortunately, I hit him somewhere, because he jerked sideways, firing as he spun. The steady stream of bullets created a trench in the pavement around him as asphalt, dirt, and stones sprayed into the air. I hit the ground, still firing. Blood splattered and gushed from his side, back, and head. I was getting ready to shoot again, but even at this distance, I could see it wasn't necessary. I scanned the area as I rose onto one knee and then stood just as the bus drove off, with the FBI's Suburban following.
"I guess they don't need us anymore," Liang said as she walked over to me. Now, people could be seen peeking out from behind cars and through windows. "That was good thinking and shooting."
"I screwed up!"
She shook her head. "The car? The man in the crowd was the real threat. That car was meant to be a distraction. It was moving when the guy in the back fired. I doubt he expected to hit anything. He might not have even been trying. You got the guy in the crowd before me. But the guy behind the bus was quick thinking."
"Yeah, I got the guy in the crowd a half-second before you." Although behind the bus was good, I mused.
"None of us are perfect, Kate, and a half second could make the difference between life and death. That was a well-planned attack with automatic weapons. The man in the crowd had a Glock with a thirty-three round magazine. And that rifle is an AK-47 with a seventy-five round magazine. It fires at a rate somewhere around ten bullets per second." She eyed the rifle thoughtfully. "I'd almost bet there was another car here, and that right now it's tailing the bus." She pulled out her cell phone and tapped something.
"Hi, Director Matel. We've had an assassination attempt, two dead. Agent Mathis and I are unhurt, although her clothes are ripped to hell. Anyway, the FBI detail ran off without us. We're stranded and our feelings are hurt." She laughed and then listened quietly for a minute before hanging up. "Matel said he would get back to us when he knew something. Let’s get you cleaned up." She nodded toward the hotel.
* * *
We got a taxi into town, where I bought a sweat suit to replace my torn pants suit since my luggage was on the bus, and then we found a small diner to pass the time in while we waited for Matel to get back to us. We were sitting in a booth having milk and cherry pie for dessert when Liang's phone rang.
"Are we still employed?" she quipped, a small grin on her lips.
I admired Liang. She sat there as relaxed as if nothing had happened today, whereas I felt like throwing a party. I had been in my first shootout and had shot—killed—two men who’d been trying to kill my client. But I had noticed a sparkle in Liang's eyes and a little bounce to her step. She closed her phone without saying anything. I wondered if this was how combat troops felt after shooting someone who was trying to kill them or their comrades—and survived. I had taken a life ... but I had saved a life. Patterson was an asshole in my opinion, but she didn't deserve to die because I or anyone else disagreed with her convictions, and she had a constitutional right to express them.
"As I suspected, a car did follow the bus. They killed Patterson when she exited the bus at her next scheduled stop. Two FBI agents were also killed and three of her staff injured. Two were minor but one is serious. Dory will call us with reservations back to Lancaster."
Just then, four policemen and a lieutenant entered the restaurant. The lieutenant was a broad shouldered man in his early forties, curly dark-brown hair, square face, which looked flushed and angry. Liang flipped open her smartphone, tapped the speed dial, and put it on speaker.
"Director Matel, I've a police lieutenant and four cops marching down the aisle toward us. They look like trouble. You might want to hear and intervene if necessary. This assignment certainly has been educational."
"You're under arrest for leaving the scene of a crime!" the lieutenant shouted before he even reached the booth.
"We're Homeland Security agents."
"I don't care. You broke the law, and you’re both are under arrest," he snarled.
"First, you should check with your captain, who knows we are in the area. Second, we are ZAP agents," she pulled out her identification, first displaying the front and then turning it around and moving it closer for him to read. "We can't be arrest—"
"The hell you say—"
"Lieutenant, STOP!" Matel's voice. He must have screamed because it came through loud and clear.
"Who the hell are you?"
"I'm ATG9 Director Matel. Give me your name, and I'll have your captain call you and explain. It's in your best interest, Lieutenant."
"Screw you," the lieutenant said. Waving for his men to come to him, he reached for Liang's arm. As he touched her arm, the barrel of her Glock rammed into his stomach. I rose drawing my Glock, grabbed the lieutenant's head as he bent over with the pain, and since his hand was
still on his revolver, drove his face into the table. He slid off the table and onto the floor, his nose spurting blood.
"If anyone draws a gun, he dies!" Liang said loudly. "I think you should call someone, Matel. Eventually, one of these nice policemen is going to feel heroic and reach for his gun."
The phone went dead. I hoped Matel could perform some magic before one of them did something stupid. Liang wasn't trying to scare them. She would have to shoot, and I doubted she would risk our lives by trying to wound the officer.
"Where do letters of complaint go?" I asked Liang, curious since it appeared ZAP agents would accumulate quite a few in the normal course of a day—from clients, other FBI agents, bystanders, and police.
"To the ATG9 Directors. There is no procedure yet, but I'd assume the committee will want a quarterly or semi-annual report which should include any complaints. However, I doubt they'll care so long as our client lives—while in our company." She shook her head at an officer whose hand was moving toward his weapon. "Really bad idea, officer. Your superior is being informed of the situation as we talk. Be a shame if you died over a simple misunderstanding." She shook her head. "I'm afraid this is the typical macho response you get from some men. If we were men, the lieutenant would more than likely have listened and even called his captain. But we are women and somehow don't deserve the same courtesy. You have to get aggressive, or you let jerks like him," she nodded to the floor, "manhandle you. It's happened to me and it will to you." Liang fired a shot into the ceiling. "The next one's in your head, stupid. In case you forgot those dead guys back at the hotel, we don't miss."
Carrying her milk, Liang moved to a stool at the counter opposite our table. I rose and sat on the back of the booth, gun resting on my thigh. Everyone, including the two behind the counter and the two couples sitting in two other booths, remained frozen. Every once in a while, someone would look like they were going to move, until Liang or I shook our head at him.
What seemed like hours later, a police captain entered with his empty hands extended in front of him.
"I'm Captain Deckert. If you'd let these officers return to their duty, I'll have the medic outside take a look at Lieutenant Phillip."
Liang nodded, and Deckert waved the officers out and then to a medic standing by the door. He approached, his hands still in front of him, although he didn't appear armed.
"I apologize for my lieutenant, but it appears he paid for his stupidity. I understand you explained you were a ZAP agents and asked him to contact his superior."
The medic now had Phillip on his feet. He was starting to say something until he looked at Deckert's face. The medic supported him as they left the restaurant.
"I know you don't have to, but would you mind telling me what happened at the Homewood Suites?"
"We were with Ms. Patterson when we exited the hotel …" Liang gave him a detailed account of the attack. I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride when she gave me credit for most of the action. One thing about Liang, she was comfortable with herself and not concerned with image. Of course, I had to admit—to myself—I did all right for my first action, but I was glad Liang had been there.
"Thanks, agent Liang. I appreciate you filling in the details. Would you really have … shot the officers with Phillip, if they drew their guns?"
"Yes. They were warned," she said without smiling or a hint of an apology.
Deckert shook his head like he couldn't believe what he just heard. "But they were just following Phillip’s orders."
"They would have shot us, without cause." Liang looked past Deckert as a short older man entered the restaurant and smiled. "Nice meeting you, Captain Deckert, but we have to leave. Our ride is here."
Deckert stood there with his mouth open as Liang and I strolled by him toward the man at the door. He smiled as we approached.
"I guess you're the two Homeland Security agents, Liang and Mathis? I'm your ride to the Lawton-Fort Sills Airport."
* * *
"This has been an interesting couple of weeks. The ZAP training taught me how to recognize a potential threat, use modern weapons, etc., but not how you interact with the outside world. I guess an agent's first assignment is supposed to do that?" I said, wondering if the training should include something on the topic.
Liang shook her head. "No. Only experience can do that. This is my first assignment as a ZAP agent, but I have years as an FBI agent. I can tell you that experience helped. However, the ZAP concept is not only new but also radical. You were taught the rules: you have immunity and can't be arrested or interrogated; you are not your client’s pet, slave, or friend; and you are there to protect him or her at the risk of your own life. I believe each of us will interpret those rules according to our unique personalities. For example, would I have shot Phillip or one of his men? Yes, I would have. Why? Because I did everything I could to discourage them from drawing their weapons, and we weren't doing anything to justify deadly force. Deckert, judging by his response, probably wouldn't have in similar circumstances. For the safety of themselves and their client, ZAP agents have to reconcile our rules of engagement with their conscience quickly. Gaining experience is a very slow process. Your response today is a good example. If you had hesitated, Patterson would have been killed entering the bus. The FBI detail would have caught her killer, but not saved her life."
"What would the committee do if you had shot one of Lieutenant Phillip's officers?" I asked, interested in case the situation ever came up again, and I thought it might, based on Liang's comments about macho attitudes of men in authority.
"Don't know. Don't care. I had reconciled it in my mind. That's all you can do. I ... Matel and I have to hope the agents we produce are aggressive, decisive, and responsible. It was the reason we had Doctor Vanessa Duvall, a psychologist, on the team of instructors monitoring each of you. Several were dismissed because Duvall recommended it, not for poor performance."
On the way to the airport, Dory called. Liang put it on speaker.
"Director Liang, Director Matel currently has the company plane, so I've booked you and agent Mathis on an American Eagle flight to Los Angeles International. I'll have a limo waiting to drive you back to headquarters."
* * *
Liang asked me to stay on call—available within twenty-four hours—while she flew off the Washington DC. The congressional sub-committee overseeing ATG9 had requested her presence to discuss the Patterson incident and to give them a status update on ZAP. I decided to spend a few nights in Los Angeles to check out the nightlife and booked two nights at the Shangri-La Santa Monica.
But before going I stopped in to see Jasmin. It was late afternoon by the time I reached Edwards Air Base and the ZAP training facility. Master Ku was just finishing his one-hour class when I arrived.
"Kate!" Jasmin shouted as I entered the training center. "Did they kill your client already?" The eight candidates stood watching as she grabbed me in a bear hug.
"Actually, she is dead. She was such a bitch, I shot her so I could get another assignment," I said, maintaining the required serious expression. Knowing me, Jasmin caught on right away.
"What did Director Liang say?" she asked, her hand at her mouth appearing shocked.
"She said I needed to learn self-control." I shrugged.
"Candidates, out of the goodness of my heart, I'm going to give you an extra hour break for those who wish to stay to hear ZAP Agent Mathis try to justify her callous behavior." She had no sooner finished than all of the candidates formed a semi-circle around us. Ku and a few of the other instructors in the facility also joined us.
"Agent Mathis, it's nice to see you again. You look happy. Killing clients must agree with you." Ku's eyes sparkled and he gave a slight nod. "If you don't object, I'd like to hear your explanation."
"Why not, agent Jasmin has all but called a major news conference to hear my shameful story." I hung my head as everyone stood there looking eager to hear. "Director Liang and I were assigned to guard a c
ongresswoman from Oklahoma …" I had a good time recounting many of the incidents, which in retrospect were amusing. Noting the candidates' reactions, I thought it helped put the life of a ZAP agent into perspective.
"All right, back here at 6:00 p.m.," Jasmin said into the silence that followed. As the candidates ran off, she turned back to me. "I'm jealous. I chose to take the consultant assignment in order to rest. I've had to fight to survive all my life. I only survived the training because I was willing to do anything to be an agent. And I like the idea of maybe helping some candidate to shed his or her past. Hearing you and the bitch Patterson story, I'm looking forward to my first client. Do you know what's next?"
"Not yet. But I'm hoping Liang will let me work alone." I stayed late into the evening talking about my reactions to the Patterson assignment before leaving for Santa Monica.
* * *
The nightlife was good, but I was too hyped over my last assignment and curious about what the committee would say to concentrate on finding company. Drinking juice didn't help. I hadn't realized how much getting drunk helped when looking for a hookup. Sober, most of the guys were self-absorbed and boring. I wasn't looking for a husband, but I wanted someone a least a little interesting and fun to be with, in and out of bed.
Liang called the evening of the third night.
"Kate, can you make it back to headquarters tomorrow?"
"Anytime you want. I'm in Santa Monica and free."
"Good, see you at three p.m. in my office." The phone went dead.
I was dying to hear what had happened and would have caught a cab that night if she had asked. Instead I spent most of the evening meditating, which helped to bring me down off my high and to prepare me for the next day.
After a leisurely breakfast, I caught a limo back to Lancaster. I had decided I didn't need a car, since I wouldn't be spending much time at my condo, and although limos and cabs were expensive, so was maintaining a car I would seldom drive. I arrived back close to one-thirty, washed, put my clothes away, and then made my way up to Liang's office.