by C. R. Daems
"I'm the only one. So, I get my first ride in a navy jet, and you get to transport your first female Kazak." I pulled up my sleeve to show my Kazak ID. It still gave me goose bumps when I looked at the tattoo-a gray police-looking shield with the head of a fox in the middle, and two scrolls with Kazak, Lynn, above it, and two with Guardian, and 231 my unique identification number below it.
"I guess that means I have to keep my hands to myself, or I'll wind up in the hospital. Not to mention the admiral will have me cleaning latrines for the rest of my career." He grinned. "The Prowler has limited range, so we'll have to stop at Scott Air Base to refuel. I look forward to talking to you and to our stay in Vegas. If you would like some suggestions on were to go after that, I'd be happy to provide some."
I met his ECMO, a Lieutenant Phil James. Simns and James sat in the two front seats and I had a position in the back, which also had two seats. I loved it. Simns did some acrobatics, either to impress me or see if he could get me sick. If the latter, he failed.
At Scott Air Base, I met some Air Force pilots and received lots of attention. Like Simns, they had never seen a Kazak and had lots of questions. It took Simns an extra half-hour to liberate me. Two hours later, we landed at Nellis Air Base where Clare stood waiting, surrounded by a bunch of pilots and sergeants. Simns had provided me with a Navy flight suit and an extra one for Clare.
"Hi, Clare. Your ride is waiting. We've got about an hour while they refuel the Prowler." I handed my wide-eyed, speechless friend the extra flight suit.
"Ma'am, your friend tells me you're a Kazak. The only woman Kazak," a colonel said. Seven other pilots and a few sergeants stood waiting the answer.
"That I am. I have an hour, what would you like to know?" I settled in for the barrage of questions to follow. Most consisted of training and the life. Again, Simns had to drag Clare and me away. I had warned Gabe I was coming. He and his wife met us at the landing field. As we exited the Prowler, Simns motioned to me.
"Ma'am, we've orders to wait for you and to take you any place you want to go, so long as there is a landing field. I know you wouldn't care, but James and I do." He gave me his award-winning smile. "We'll be at the Winn Hotel when you're ready to leave, but we'll need at least twelve hours notice. We need to file a flight plan and be sure to have our eight hours of mandatory sleep." This time he grinned.
"Enjoy yourselves. I'll give you plenty of time to properly say goodbye to the girls and whatever you need to do." I left them with smiles on their faces. Gabe and his wife were surrounded by another bunch of pilots and mechanics.
"Hi, Gabe, Lauretta. It's wonderful to see you two again. I hope we aren't intruding on your plans." I knew Clare didn't mind and probably Gabe, but I wasn't sure about Lauretta.
"No, Lynn. I look forward to seeing you and Clare." Lauretta gave me a hug. "You're welcome any time."
"Give me time to talk to these curious, gallant men and women." I turned to the group "Yes, I'm a real Kazak. I'll give you one hour for any questions you may have." It was a fun hour, and I had to promise to arrive a bit early before I left. Clare and I also got several offers to take us to dinner, shows, and anywhere else we wanted to go. We declined as gracefully as we could.
***
We stayed five days. I treated everyone to dinners and shows. I had nowhere to spend my money but on friends. It felt good. We also spent several hours visiting with Jianyu. I found that Lauretta had begun taking Tai Ji lessons with Jianyu after watching my Kazak candidates train.
"You look at peace, Master Lynn. Although many try, few every reach that state of mind. Most seek peace through meditation. You've found it by filling a need in your life. My masters would find that interesting and unbelievable. We have been taught that meditation is the only path."
"I am at peace. I love my life, have good friends, and found my soul mate."
I reached over and squeezed Clare's hand. When she looked up, her eyes were misty. I pulled her close and whispered in her ear. "Honest feelings are never anything to be ashamed or embarrassed about. I love you."
Now tears trickled down her face. She smiled and made no attempt to wipe them away. Jianyu changed the topic and asked poignant questions about my reactions, feeling under a variety of conditions, and interaction with clients. My answers amazed me. They provided an insight I never had before. I was content to be who and what I was but had never stopped to look at why. Gabe and Lauretta looked shocked. Clare on the other hand sat quietly listening like she had heard the story before. She hadn't but somehow she knew.
Gabe and Lauretta both worked. They had managed to get five days off but now had to get back to work.
The next morning, I called for room service. After a breakfast of Swedish crepes, a fruit cocktail, and juice, we sat back relaxed.
"Where to Clare. We have a Prowler ready to take us anywhere we want. The lieutenant did say that he had to have a landing field."
"Knowing you, I'll bet you wouldn't care," Clare snorted. "How about Phoenix? The pilots will have a big city to explore, and we can travel to Sedona. I hear it's beautiful and not too many people."
"Phoenix it is. I'll notify the pilots. We should be able to depart tomorrow."
***
We spent a wonderful week in Sedona. I had thought I knew everything there was to know about Clare, but each time we were together, I discovered more. Reluctantly, she decided she had to get back to work. We left the next day. The pilots seemed to have enjoyed themselves in Phoenix. We flew back to Denver, where I stayed a few more days. Since Witton hadn't called, I called him.
"Well Boss, have I been retired or fired?"
"No. I was just about to call you. The Committee has given you an assignment. I'll expect you back the day after tomorrow." The phone went dead. I wondered what the assignment was for about a minute. I didn't really care. Any assignment would do.
CHAPTER FIVE
I sat in Witton's office drinking a cup of coffee. Ann Marie had given me a new blend. I sipped it slowly trying to determine if I like it better than the last one. The last one had a stronger roast taste with a hint of chocolate. This one tasted milder with a hint of cinnamon. I decided I preferred the chocolate.
"The Committee wants you to protect a Iraq veteran." He paused watching me. I shrugged. Clients were clients to me-rich, poor, good, evil, hero, or coward was for others to decide. My job was to protect them not to judge them. The only reason I cared why was to determine the potential level of the threat and the working environment. When I said nothing, he continued. "He's a Medal of Honor recipient and currently homeless. He received a medical discharge due to his injuries and has been forgotten like so many before him. That would have been the end of story except he wound up in a San Diego hospital. He had been beaten by unknown parties. The police believe its gangs of youths. It has become the latest fad to terrorize the homeless. The Committee has decided a Medal of Honor holder deserves the same protection he gave his country."
"Where's he now?"
"As soon as the police discovered he was a disabled veteran, they transported him to Camp Pendleton's naval hospital. He will be discharged in two days and taken to the Bread of Life Rescue Mission. You'll meet him there."
"I guess I need to go shopping," I said, now that I knew the client and his environment.
"Where are you going shopping and why?"
"Salvation army. If I'm going to be his homeless friend... You want the people who are attacking the homeless, don't you?"
"So you plan to live on the street?"
"Unless you want me to put him up in my condo. Based on what you said, it doesn't appear to be personal. More like being in the right place at the wrong time. Of course, someone might be after him specifically and attacking homeless people to cover up the real target. The only way to find out is to make him accessible."
"I can't be sure, but I doubt the Committee is concerned about the homeless, just Technical Sergeant James Hearn."
"Surely, there are other v
eterans out there decorated and homeless."
"It's a tragedy that so many of our veterans are homeless after serving their country. We tell them we are a grateful nation but it doesn't seem to be little more than cliche." Witton didn't seem to be talking to me since he was gazing out his window. I try not to judge people. I find staying with a person night and day reveals things not apparent from their day-to-day facade. What they say and what they think are often not necessarily the same.
"If you find out what the Committee wants, call me." I waved as I left. I was probably a good choice for this assignment. I had lived in some pretty run-down neighborhoods and had been homeless for a while. And I enjoyed playacting.
I spent the next day shopping for used-pre-owned-clothing. Rather than search for the best, I collected the most worn and out of date clothing. Watching the people in the shops, it reminded me again how fortunate I was. The next day, I left for San Diego. Ann Marie had booked me in first class, which got me plenty of stares although I wore the best of my pre-owned clothes. Not too surprisingly, I had the overhead luggage rack to myself. My fellow passengers seemed reluctant to put their designer luggage next to my raggedy backpack, and the guy next to me tried so hard to distance himself he must have had welts from the seat's armrests. The flight attendant and me were the only ones that enjoyed the flight. She and I found the situation amusing.
***
I arrived just after noon, knowing the hospital wouldn't release him before then. After about an hour sitting on the sidewalk towards the end of the building, an elderly woman came out and approached. She stood there inspecting me before speaking.
"You needn't sit outside...young lady. Meals won't be served for a while but you could wait in the chapel. It's better than sitting out in the street. Besides, it doesn't look good."
"I'm waiting for a friend." I wouldn't mind the chapel. I liked the quiet of churches. They were good places to meditate. My temple on the Hill had always been a place of renewal.
"You can wait inside just as well. If you tell me who your friend is, I'll let her know you're here." She sighed. Just then a black SUV with US Army printed on the side pulled up to the curb. I rose and walked over to the vehicle as a lieutenant stepped out of the back followed by a short, thin man. He didn't look like what I would've thought a Medal of Honor holder should look like. Of course, I didn't look like what people thought a Kazak should look like. His sneakers, army pants, gray long-sleeved shirt, and army jacket appeared two-sizes too big and had seen much better days. But he and they looked clean. His dark-brown hair looked like it had been recently cut and his long angular face clean-shaven. The lieutenant looked around and settled on the woman and me.
"Are you Hearn's...friend?" He had obviously been briefed that someone would be waiting at the mission, but judging by his wide-eyed, open mouth expression, not who.
"Yep. That's me." I rose and walked over to the car. "Hi, Jimmy."
Jimmy stared at me for a long while. He too had been told to expect someone, just not me. Typical Witton, leave it to me to explain all those annoying details.
"You're my... Lynn?" He and the Lieutenant stood shaking their heads.
"But-" The lieutenant began. I cut him off with my hand.
"Jimmy and I will be fine. You can tell your superior, that his friend will take good care of him." I hooked my arm inside his and pulled him along, leaving the lieutenant and woman speechless, and avoiding more questions.
"Well Jimmy, where to?" I planned on getting him back to his old routine, since that was where the trouble began.
"You're my bodyguard? You don't look like a bodyguard." He was a head taller than me and was frowning down at me.
"You don't look like a Medal of Honor holder."
"I guess not. I don't think any of us intend to be heroes. It just happens. You're pinned down, your buddies are getting killed and wounded, and you just react without thinking. If you thought, you probably wouldn't do it."
"I can relate to that. What exactly did you do?"
"I kind of distracted the Ali Babas by running around shooting and throwing hand-grenades while my buddies withdrew back to the main unit. We were a recon unit."
"How did you survive?"
"They left me for dead. They were in a rush to chase after the others. They found me the next morning when the main unit advanced."
"Did you do something to annoy the gang that put you in the hospital?"
"Nothing. Wrong place at the wrong time. They were looking for someone to amuse themselves with and found me."
"Did you hurt any of them?" I asked. He was ex-army and a hero even if he didn't think so.
"Nah, I didn't try to fight back. There were three of them and one had a bat. I knew I couldn't win and figured it would just be worse if I fought back. I thought they would loose interest faster if I didn't. They would have, but they found my ATM card and dragged me to one of the machines. There is a limit on how much you can take at one time but they didn't understand. So they beat me more thinking I would tell them how to get the rest. I woke up in the hospital. By now there will be no money in the account."
"Have you canceled the card?"
"No. I hadn't thought about it until now." He said in a normal almost disinterested voice. I wondered if he had just given up on life and no longer cared what happened to him. I fished out my iphone. Ann Marie answered.
"Ann Marie, it's Lynn. The gang that attacked Jimmy took his ATM card and knows his password. Can you get his card deactivated and a new one sent to his bank nearest the Bread of Life Rescue Mission in Oceanside."
"Can do. I hear you're living on the streets now," she snorted. "That's some come down from a visiting dignitary from the Arab world, who traveled first class and had a private plane at her disposal."
"I'm reduced to the streets because Witton doesn't pay me enough to rent a decent apartment and eat more than one meal a day." I smiled, remembering the grand tour of the United States' major attractions while pretending to be an Arab woman rights activist as a diversion to protecting a major mob informer who pretended to be part of my security detail. In reality, on my salary I could have afforded to pay for the meals and accommodations.
"I'll tell Mr. Witton. I'm sure he could raise you to minimum pay per hour. Oh, don't let the bedbugs bite." She hung up before I could answer. I wish she hadn't mentioned bedbugs. The very idea made me itch.
"I hadn't thought about canceling my card. My disability check goes into that account."
"What do you spend your money on?"
"Odds and ends. Coffee, snacks, clothes, occasionally a room," he said looking down in deep thought. "My next check doesn't come in until... What's the date today?"
"April 27."
His head jerked up and his eyes misted. That generated the most emotion I'd seen from him.
"My next check isn't until the middle of the month-the third Wednesday. I need a new backpack and to replace the things they stole."
"Don't worry, Jimmy. Your friend has money. What do you need?"
"Blanket until I can afford a sleeping bag. It's still cold at night. A bottle for water, some containers for food, extra clothes, soap, flashlight. My God. I don't have anything except what they gave me at the hospital."
"I'm going to need the same things, so lead on. Where do we get them?"
We spent the rest of the day visiting dollar stores, Salvation Army, and an army surplus store. I had to admire him, we walked miles and I never heard one complaint. As evening approached, we magically wound up back at the Rescue Mission for the nightly meal. I was seriously considering buying two bicycles.
An older man with thinning gray hair met us at the door. He stood about my height, round chubby body and face, and a pleasant smile. It seemed a bit strained as his eyes settled on me. "Hello, Jimmy. I hear you were attacked by a gang of youths and had to be hospitalized." Without waiting to hear Jimmy, his eyes turned back to me. "Who's your...friend?"
"She's...Lynn. She's visiting me
for a few days," he said. The idea of some woman coming to visit a homeless man seemed ludicrous, until I realized men weren't the only homeless people. Not only women but also whole families were homeless.
"Have you known her long?"
"Seems like forever." He smiled at me. I smiled back. Jimmy had a sense of humor under that blanket of resignation. I decided to help.
"Yes, Jimmy and I go way back." All the way to noon. "What's for dinner?"
"Meatloaf, mashed potatoes, mixed vegetables, and green salad. I hope you and Jimmy will join us for services." I caught Jimmy's slight nod.
"Wouldn't miss it, reverend." I grabbed Jimmy's arm and headed for the serving line. After filling our plates, I steered him to the end of a long table in the rear so I could see the entire room. I didn't think anyone in this place wanted to kill him, but I'm naturally paranoid, which I thought Clare would approve.
"Why back here?"
"So I can keep an eye on everyone."
"No one here would hurt me. Maybe a few might try and steal something."
"Someone almost succeeded in beating you to death. Until I know who, I'll watch everyone. It maybe a gang of youths like everyone seems to think. But someone may hold a grudge against you and is using the youths as a cover," I said and waited to see what kind of response I would get.
"I don't have any enemies. In a war, you have enough enemies without fighting with your comrades. In peacetime, maybe. I wouldn't know. The Army is only life I've known for the past eight years, until I was discharged. A homeless person may be willing to kill you for any number of reasons, but they couldn't afford to pay someone to do it." He laughed quietly. Obviously an amusing thought.