by C. R. Daems
Clare is going to be pissed.
***
The emergency vehicles arrived within minutes and whisked us to the Millinocket Regional Hospital, located only minutes away. I went straight into surgery. It was evening before I woke. Catherine was half asleep in a chair by the window. She looked worn out.
"How are you feeling?" a middle-aged woman in a white jacket and stethoscope asked. "The operation went well. The bullet missed the hip joint and lodged up against the pelvis. The second bullet passed cleanly through the upper bicep and the third bullet to the calf muscle also passed cleanly through. You were lucky-again-judging from your impressive array of scars."
"You're awake!" Catherine jumped out of her chair and rushed over to the bed. "Why didn't you shoot me? Max and Sam told me they would've if you hadn't stopped them."
"Witton would be pissed if I shot my client."
"Damn you. Max and Sam have been with me for years, and if it hadn't been for you, they would have killed me.
"Liar Assassins are believable unless they hit a nerve. Max and Sam normally wouldn't believe you were the traitor. But they've been involved with you looking for a traitor for months, so it was easy to confuse them with a plausible lie. In my case, he was asking me to kill a client, which is abhorrent to me. I'm a Kazak sworn to give my life to protecting my client, so the lie wasn't believable. It's ironic-my client saved me. I still can't understand how Leesun managed to survive. I'd swear I put three rounds in his chest."
"You did. He had on a flack jacket. But he was still impressive. Those three bullets hit him in the heart area. That would have normally dropped most men. And I only beat you by a second. By the way, the Committee wants you and me to return to Maine. They want to interview us."
***
Five days later, I sat in front of a camera talking to an animated man on a television screen. He, probably they, dragged every detail from the time I met Catherine at the Setai Hotel to the shootout. It took hours. Catherine went after me and spent over four hours in the room. When she came out, she looked like she had been in one of her containers.
"I'm glad that's over. The Committee is extremely pleased with the results. They are giving us a bonus and a month's paid vacation, including a friend," she smiled. "If you ever need anything, call me. Here's my private number."
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Catherine's private plane dropped me off at Regan International the next day. I had decided to take a few days to recover before I called Clare. After I washed and changed clothes, I wandered up to Witton's office.
"Go on in, Lynn. Witton's free," Ann Marie said as I approached his office. "Going to recuperate before braving Clare?"
"Facing Assassins is nothing compared to a scolding from Clare." She could really make me feel guilty, although she wasn't really mad at me-most the time. I knocked once, and then proceed in.
"Hi, boss." Witton was sitting back in his chair with a cup in his hand. He looked relaxed with only a white shirt, red and brown paisley tie, and no suit jacket.
"I heard that you killed one of your employers," he said, as I sat.
"He wouldn't give me a raise. Have you seen the price of maids and chauffeurs lately."
"The tactic proved very effective. Have you looked at your bank account?"
"No."
"Two years salary," he nodded approval. I couldn't believe it-a half million dollars for doing what they already overpaid me to do. "And three more Assassin kills. I've already had twenty requests to be paired with you and your next assignment. I personally wouldn't want to be within a hundred miles of you and your client," Witton said and didn't smile.
"I scheduled a debriefing for tomorrow morning. All the Kazaks in the area want to hear your account of the incidents. That extra day should give you time to get up enough nerve to call Clare."
"You think so?" I hoped so. "This last Assassin, the Liar, was stupid or doesn't understand the weakness in his talent. Telling a Kazak to kill her client isn't terribly smart. If he had told the others to kill me, he might have succeeded. There was three of them and one my client. Whoever was left would have been an easy kill."
Witton sat quietly for a minute. "Yes, I understand. He told to you to do the one thing you would never do. Interesting."
***
The briefing was fun, and I was introduced to some Kazaks I hadn't met. By the afternoon, I had enough nerve to call Clare. The Company plane wasn't readily available and I didn't want to bother Gendel, so I had Ann Marie book me first class to Denver. I thought that might convince Clare I hadn't been seriously wounded. Of course, having my arm in a sling and using a cane might not help. I have to admit she took it very well. Something had happened on the Hill that made her far more into the moment-she was happy I was alive and nothing else mattered.
"I guess there is a story that goes with the holes in your ass, leg, and arm," Clare said trying to suppress a smile. We had changed into nightwear and sat on the couch drinking hot chocolate and listing to elevator music.
"There is an interesting story but you can't print the real one. If you can rearrange the facts a bit, maybe I can get permission to run it. It started with the Committee's trouble shooter, Catherine..."
"Wow. That's a Pulitzer award-winning story. Do you really think we can get permission to print it?"
"Not the real story, but something that preserves the essence but leaves out any connection to the Committee and probably the crime bosses and their torture." I said with a snort-so much for preserving the essence. Clare and I worked on revising the details for the next three days. When I was satisfied, I called Catherine's private number.
"You need a favor all ready?" She laughed. "Well, what is it?"
I explained what I wanted and sent her an encrypted copy of the intended interview-Clare's questions and my responses.
"Since you've given me most of the credit, I like it and I'll run it by the Committee." She got back to me two days later.
"The Committee loved making them an International foundation that supports individuals and organizations worldwide and provides for the stability of democratic governments. And that one of the organization members was subverting money for criminal activities and profit. It obscures and yet captures their intent. They believe it will enhance their image with those who are in the know. You have permission to give the interview."
The Post was ecstatic and decided to run it in three installments. And agreed to give Clare additional time off. She was their golden girl. Since she had started the Kazak series, they had received national attention, tripled their readership, and begun a very well funded charity, selling the video interviews to the local TV station. As a result, they had made important connections across the country. We decided to do the interview before taking the time off in order to give me extra time to heal. The interview took three days to complete.
"I can't believe you have a paid vacation to anywhere and a bonus seven times my annual salary. And every time I look at your...our bank statement, I want to call the bank and tell them they made a mistake. You don't spend anything on yourself. And...our investment account is now over three million."
"Spend some of it then," I said. I meant it. It was only money, which I don't spend or need. The job limited my time to shop and the organization seemed to pay for everything.
"Your incorrigible, but I love you anyway. Where are we going?"
"Anywhere you want. I just want to be with you. I don't care where." That got me lots of kisses, hugs, and a glorious massage. It was early morning when Clare suddenly sat up in bed.
"To answer your question, I'd like to visit Scotland," she announced all bright eyed and chirpy. "Do you think they'd mind?"
"They did say anywhere. Worse case, we'll pay for it. I'll call Ann Marie and see if she won't mind booking something for us." I called and she didn't. Several hours later, she called back with our itinerary. We were booked for five days at the Scotsman Hotel in the heart of Edinburgh and a seven-day train trip
around Scotland, England, and Wales on the Royal Scotsman. Gendel was providing the transportation to and from.
That night we lay in bed. Clare was quiet, running her finger lightly over each scar and brushing it with her lips. "Watching you run the maze on the Hill, I could visualize you in action. The way you move is incredible. Before that, I always thought you were extremely lucky-and you are-but you are also incredibly talented. Talking with the Witch Meztlil, she helped me see how important it is to savor each minute we have together and not try to foretell the future." She lay her head on my stomach and fell asleep. I agreed.
***
As usual, Ann Marie's reservations were luxurious. The train only had thirty-three passengers and felt like a luxury hotel on wheels. The Scotsman Hotel had been home to the Scotsman newspaper for nearly a hundred years much to Clare's delight. We toured Edinburgh, ate at the best restaurants, and spent hours in the hotel spa. The last day, Gendel's private plane waited for our return trip.
"Welcome aboard, Miss Lynn, Miss Frazer. I hope you had an enjoyable vacation. Would you ladies like something to drink before we takeoff?"
"Red wine for Clare, and ginger ale for me," I said while Clare and I decided on which of the plane's ten empty seats we wanted.
"Lynn, I used to think first class was the ultimate way to fly. Now it's like being in a cattle car." she laughed. "When I'm with you, I feel like Cinderella. The nice part is when the clock strikes twelve, I return to a job I love and have my soul mate."
Living through some of my encounters with Assassins and clients was lucky, but not nearly as lucky as finding Clare.
***
Clare went back to work, but I stayed for another week. We ate out most nights, since the clock hadn't struck twelve yet. That night we lay exhausted after frenzied lovemaking. Clare rolled over and rose up on her elbow, looking down at me.
"It's time, isn't it?"
"Yes. I'm healed in many ways, thanks to you, and I need to get back to work. The Assassins miss me," I said and immediately regretted it. Clare punched me in the ribs.
"That isn't funny, Lynn."
"I'm sorry, love. But I couldn't be a Kazak if I worried about being hurt...or dying. It would make me cautious and consequently, slow to act. I have to enjoy what I do and see the Assassins and thugs for what they really are-dangerous but amateurs. And me as a Kazak and professional."
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
"Hi, Boss. I'm ready for some boring assignment-maybe the President or Vice President needs someone to watch over him."
"They have the Secret Service and you're on their shit-list."
"What about some foreign diplomat from a friendly country?"
"They have the Dignitary Protection Service and they don't like you."
"How about some unimportant dignitary?"
"They have the FBI and you're on several of their shit-lists. You might even be on Homeland Security watch list."
"What did I ever do to them?" I couldn't remember working with them.
"How about Mr. Victor Palacios? He was dumb enough to ask for you even after I told him you were a woman, a magnet for Assassins, and had invasive rules."
"Sounds like a man who appreciates talent. But why does he need protection?"
"He's running for President of the United States."
"Maybe he's not so smart after all."
"The Committee has approved it. His campaign plane will arrive in Washington D.C. tomorrow. He's expecting you there the next day around noon. Oh, your old friend Agent Antonis is currently assigned to the detail. The Committee's working on getting that changed-for my sake."
***
I thought it a bit strange when Ann Marie told me Gendel's private plane would transport me to Dulles International. True to his word, he had made his private plane available to me when the Company plane wasn't available. Ann Marie had some contact in Gendel's organization who made it happen.
As before, I was treated like a VIP and constantly waited on. Of course, that was pretty easy when you are the only passenger on the plane. We arrived late morning, just in time for my meeting with Victor Palacios.
Antonis was waiting for me with another agent, at the entrance to Palacios's plane. He didn't look happy to see me, but at least his gun stayed in the holster.
"Good morning, Agent Antonis. I guess I found the right plane. I hope your welcoming speech isn't going to be too long, I'd hate to be late for my meeting with Mr. Palacios."
"All you Kazak think you're better than the rest of us, and you've got the biggest ego of them all. For your information, no one in the FBI wants to serve with you. Your arrogance has gotten good agents killed, so you can look good. You are a disaster waiting to happen. I don't want you on the same plane with me." His face had gone red during his tirade. I guess that meant he's still mad at me.
"Are you refusing to let me board the plane, Agent Antonis?"
"Damn right. What are you going to do about it, Kazak?" His hand and his sidekick's hands moved towards their guns. I managed not to laugh. The only reason the two weren't on their way to the hospital was because I'd had my morning coffee and remained in a good mood-thanks to Susan, Gendel's stewardess. I turned and walked away, while hitting "1" on my speed dial.
"What now, Lynn. I don't need any more complaints. I've had to order another Lynn Board. There is no more room on the current one."
"You would be proud of me, Mr. Witton. Agent Antonis refused me entry to see Mr. Palacios, and he is still alive and uninjured. I'm on my way to my condo."
"Stop...sit...stay."
"Woof." I moved to a waiting area across from Palacios's loading area and folded into a meditation position like a good little puppy. Clare really had me in a good mood, but I'd get over it. People moved around me as the room filled up. Sometime later, the plane for that area loaded and the area quieted. Time didn't really exist for me, only awareness. Someone stood in front of me.
"This can't be the Kazak Lynn I know. There are no dead bodies and Antonis is in one piece. I should have Samie here shoot you, since you're obviously an Illusion Assassin." Ann Wohl stood looking down at me. Except for a subtle maturing of her olive complexion, she hardly looked like she had aged over the past several years when we had worked together. Her black curly hair remained short and her figure trim and lithe. A tall athletic-looking man I recognized stood next to her. He had been part of Ann's team guarding Lauro, but had been replaced when he was wounded in a firefight with a gang of white supremacist.
"And no shooting or panic in the area. You're right, chief, it couldn't be the Lynn we know," Gordon said, fighting to look serious. I liked Ann and her team. They were professionals, who never let their personal likes and dislikes get in the way of doing their job.
"Come on, Lynn. Antonis has been relieved and you're over an hour late for your meeting with Mr. Palacios." Ann said, shaking her head with a smile. "I must be crazy agreeing to work with you. Yes, I actually volunteered."
"I'll try to be good." I stood and gave her a hug, then Samie. Ann walked me through the plane, making sure everyone knew me. She had a team of twelve agents and responsibility for the safety of the entire Palacios family. I saw a lot of familiar faces from our time guarding Lauro and Gendel. The youngest looking agent stood at the entrance to the Palacios's private area.
"Dee, this is the Kazak Lynn. She has total access to everywhere."
"Nice to finally meet you. Everyone on the team has stories about their time with you. Or should I say, bragging rights. I guess that means this won't be our usual boring assignment."
"Dee, those stories are better in retrospect than reality," Ann quickly added. Dee knocked and announced me. Mrs. Palacios came to the door.
"Welcome, Lynn. I'm Arianna, Palacios's wife. Eveleen and Sibeal said to say hello. I think Sibeal wanted to join us. She thought you were a lot fun to have around and missed you," Arianna said. Like Eveleen, she was in her early thirties, tall with a trim figure. Her long, wavy brown-hair flowed well
past her shoulders. I followed her as she walked back to a sitting area with a couch and four cream-colored leather chairs. A tall man in his fifties stood as we approached. He stood a little over six foot and looked to be in good condition. A smile lit his clean-shaven, round face. A young girl around twelve sat on the couch appraising me with narrowed eyes. Like her mother, she had long brown-hair but tied back in a ponytail.
"Kazak Lynn, I apology for the confusion before. Witton and I decided it would be best to wait until Miss Wohl arrived. I understand Agent Antonis doesn't like you," Palacios said shaking my hand.
"He has good reason. I broke his wrist. He deserved it for sticking a gun in my face." Palacios laughed. "Eveleen did say you didn't tolerate fools well. The Gendels speak very highly of you. In fact, they are the reason I asked for you specifically. Presidential contenders come to expect threats while they campaign. It's usually people expressing their anger over some position or other. In those cases, the FBI is more than adequate to keep us safe. However, when my family is threatened the person has gone beyond mere anger. It may be just rhetoric, in which case the FBI could handle it, but... From what Eveleen told us, I can't leave it to probably," he said appraising me as he did. "Gendel did said you had some discretion on whether to take an assignment." It was more a question that a statement: Will you?
"I have rules. They are not negotiable. I can only adequately protect one person at a time, two if they are always in my sight. I had two who refused to follow my rules. An Assassin killed one and the other only lived because her Assassin was sloppy. Since then, I've decided that if the client isn't willing to help me protect them, then they aren't serious about needing a Kazak and are wasting my time." Might as well get it on the table right away.
"Gendel did say you were very direct to the point of arrogance...and there was no one he would rather have protecting him or his family." He looked to his wife, who nodded, then to his daughter. "This is my analytical daughter, Kayla, who is trying to dissect you. Do you understand, Kay?"
"Yes, Father. Sibeal is very fond of you...Kazak Lynn. Why?" She cocked her head slightly like she was trying to hear and see better.