by C. R. Daems
"You must have a guardian angel looking after you," she said and returned to the table. Her name is Clare.
"Kayla, let's go pack," she said and then turned back to me. "I'm scared out of my mind for Kayla...and me, but I can't confine her to a cage. You're risking your life so we have a choice. Like Ann Wohl, I'm not sure I'll always agree with your decisions, but I believe you make the risk of leaving our cage reasonable."
Palacios seemed pleased when Arianna informed him she was going, although he didn't make a great show of it. Like her, he was concerned about Kayla.
Over the next week, we stopped in three states. Palacios made fourteen speeches and participated in a televised debate with four other candidates. Arianna accepted six invitations. Kayla was enjoying herself and contributing more at each gathering. I found it interesting that while only twelve, she wasn't intrusive and made meaningful contributions. By the end of the week, everyone had relaxed-except me.
I thought the attempted kidnapping at the Palacios's club was related to the tweets Kayla received about killing children. That left the person who sent the emails implying criminals might harm the family. Those sounded more like members of a fanatical group than angry rants. They were less personal. The attempted kidnapping was up close and personal. The other threat could be at arms length and, therefore, much harder to detect and stop. And then there were all the fanatics who weren't giving notice. My paranoia went on full alert.
At week's end, we flew back to their house for a few days rest. The polls indicated that Palacios had moved up in the opinion polls and now enjoyed a five-point lead over his nearest rival. That was good for Palacios and bad for me. That would only give the fanatics more of an incentive to stop him.
"Well, my paranoiac friend, what do you think? My agents feel you've eliminated the serious threat and now they only need worry about the normal loud-mouth trouble makers," Ann said leaning against the wall with me. Palacios was sitting in a recliner reading. Arianna sat on the couch with Kayla working on her lessons.
"I think we may have a more serious threat out there, especially now that Palacios has gained the lead in the polls."
"Damn, I agree with you. I've probably spent too much time with you. As I see it, Palacios's positions appeal to large numbers of Independents and may be a good choice for middle of the road democrats and republicans. The problem is, he has angered the fringe on the left and the right. And that is where the fanatics live."
"What worries me are the emails. They were less personal and related to gun control. Those kinds of individuals are more likely to be snipers than kidnappers."
"Oh, thanks for sharing," Ann whispered, glancing in Palacios's direction.
"If we're lucky, they'll try a warning first, something to get Palacios's attention. If it's individuals who are part of a militant group, that would be more likely to get general approval versus a killing. Besides, it would feel like a black op, which would be exciting. If it were a more powerful group, a warning would still seem logical. Only a lone nutcase would try or pay someone to kill one of the Palacios.
"Here or on the road?"
"Here. The message is for Palacios, not the public. In fact, a public display may garner more support for his campaign. Here seems more logical."
"Would have to be at night. He would be too conspicuous during day light hours in such a tight knit community, especially after the incident with Mrs. Palacios. I'll request additional agents for the night shift."
"A drive by," I almost shouted. Palacios looked up at us for a moment, then when back to his reading. "Using automatic weapons," I whispered.
"Yes. That would be a clear message aimed at Palacios's stand on military grade automatic weapons." Ann nodded, eyes turned down in thought. "We can station a couple of cars at the end of the block in each direction, and have a helicopter ready. That way they will be boxed in and we will be prepared if they leave the vehicle or somehow manage to break out." Ann ran off immediately with a smile on her face. The FBI liked nice straightforward solutions that they could prepare ahead of time. Kazaks tended to be reactionary. Even thugs could be very creative and think outside the box. And Assassins were just sneaky. I convinced Ann to have her team install police riot shields over the window visible from the road-after the family went to bed and remove them before they got up. No sense creating unnecessary stress. Nothing happened for several nights.
The night before we were supposed to go on the road again a fourth of July celebration broke out around two a.m. Kayla jerked upright. Arianna tumbled out of bed when she got tangled up in the blanket trying to get up. I stood, walked to the foot of the bed and sat facing the bedroom door.
"Come over here and sit. There is no danger but it's best not to stand. The FBI anticipated this happening and have the situation well in hand." I hope. Sometime later, Ann knocked at the door. Smart lady. "Lynn, the excitement is over. It's safe for everyone to come out."
I opened the door to a smiling Ann. I decided not to punch her in the stomach. That seemed a bit to organized and crafty for Assassins. "Catch the bad guys?" I asked as we walked towards the living room. Palacios joined us, rushing in to hug his wife and daughter.
"What happened? He asked after assuring himself they were all right.
"We had a drive-by shooting. They drove by the house once, and then circled back ten minutes later with another car, stopped, and started shooting. I had called the swat team when they drove by the first time. Good thing, they had better weapons than we did. There were eight of them. Five are dead and two wounded. We had one killed before the swat team arrived. Four were wounded and are on their way to the hospital, one in critical condition and unlikely to make it.
"You knew they were coming and didn't warn us! My wife and child could have been killed!" He face was flushed and tense with anger. His eyes darted between Ann and me.
"No we didn't know since they didn't consult with us," I said, diverting attention away from Ann, who had to be nice. "Ann assumed that it was a possibility and was prepared in case it happened. Because she was prepared, you and your family are safe. Had she warned you it may happen, you would have been unnecessarily stressed over something that may never have happened. If you want to avoid any further trouble, bow out of the race. That was the message of this drive-by tonight. But...don't scream at Ann or her people. Two FBI died tonight and three others wounded protecting your lives. You are unhurt, so they did a damn good job." I didn't shout but did hold eye contact. That's for Ann, and probably a complaint for my new board. Palacios, and Ann, stood there in shock.
"Your very arrogant," he finally managed.
"What happened at the club and tonight is not your fault or Ann's. It is the fault of fanatics who believe they have a right to do anything to make you and anyone else conform to their worldview. You have a right to be scared. You and those like you risk much to oppose them." In the quiet that followed, I could hear commotion on the street as people began to brave going outside to see what happened. Half the police force must have been outside, judging by the flashing red and blue lights coming in the windows.
"If everyone will leave, I need to talk with my wife in private," Palacios said softly. Ann turned and left and the two in the hallway followed. "You too, Lynn."
"No. I will not think more of you if you decide to continue or less if you decide not to. But while Arianna and Kayla are under my protection, they stay in my sight." Take it or leave it. He nodded and sat, looking like a berated dog. The discussion went on for several hours punctuated with long poignant silences.
"Lynn, based on what happened tonight, what are the odds of them succeeding in hurting Arianna or Kayla?" Palacios asked.
"Tonight's bunch were dangerous amateurs. They were paid by someone to shoot at the house and scare you. They only did well against the FBI because they had guns you would like to limit. If that someone were to pay a professional, I would put his chances at twenty-five percent." Of course, the odds really depended on the profess
ional. If it had been someone like Jessie-my heart missed a couple of beats-his chances of success would be one hundred percent.
"So he would kill my wife or daughter one out of four times?"
"What I'm saying is that I believe I would win most confrontations against a reasonably competent shooter. But I can lose and that could cost the life of Arianna or Kayla."
"What do you mean-could?"
"We could kill each other."
"That doesn't bother you?" Arianna asked.
"No. I choose this life knowing the risks and rewards."
"Money?" Kayla asked. The little devil. She knows it's not.
"No. Helping protect people who are important to our country...but I am not risking the ones I love."
"Thank you, Lynn. I'm glad you stayed. You've been candid and insightful. I'm going to cancel my planned events to give me time to think. You're right. I need to commit to going all the way, knowing there may be other attempts on me or my families' lives, or withdraw immediately."
***
The mood was somber that day, everyone quietly going about his or her normal routines. Work crew had been there all day fixing window, frames, and patching the outside bullet holes. The police riot shields had significantly reduced the damage inside. That evening Ann showed up just before everyone was getting ready for bed.
"I'm happy to announce that we have identified the person who wrote the emails and who was responsible for the drive-by shooting. He's the head of a militia group up around West Dover, Vermont. He has been arrested and the members of his group are being held for questioning."
"That's a relief. I suppose that significantly reduces the risk to my family. But it doesn't eliminate it. Lynn, I'll always be grateful to you for saving Kayla, but my family and I can't live in a cage like that. I'm withdrawing from the race.
***
"Well Lynn, this is a record. You finished an assignment without being injured and without a complaint. Well, that is not totally true. Agent Antonis did file a complaint, but it only contained reasons why he hated you and Kazaks. So, I filed a complaint against him with his director. He agreed with me." Witton smiled. "I did post Antonis's letter on your board just to let the other Kazaks know what a horrible person you are."
"What did you think about Palacios withdrawing?"
"If he's happy with the decision, what else matters?"
"It didn't bother you that he quit?'
"Why should it? He wasn't my client." Silly question. Witton laughed.
"It shouldn't. I had worried when you, a woman, made Kazak. I thought people's opinions, actions, lifestyles, deaths, injuries would adversely affect you and make my selection of clients difficult or cause you to quit. But you turned out to be the ideal Kazak. By the way, I noticed you gave Ann all the credit for stopping the drive by and finding the person responsible for trying to harm Palacios's family. She told me it was your idea. She's gotten another promotion and now reports directly to the area director."
"Ann deserved it. She and her people did all the work."
"Down to business, you deserve a vacation; however, this assignment won't wait and you managed to complete the last one without injuries. Although the State Department is still upset with you for the incident with the Libyan diplomat, they have an Assistant Secretary who is under a fatwa because of the papers released by Wiki Leaks. Apparently, he made a remark about Islam being a religion for Nazis and Muhammad being akin to Hitler."
"I'm surprised he's not dead already. If someone had compared Jesus to Hitler he would be dead within a day," I said knowing every religion had fanatics. "I thought I was on the State Department's black list."
"You are. And knowing government lists, you will be on it long after any one recognizes your name or why you are on the list."
"Then why did they ask for me?"
Witton had the nerve to laugh. "They didn't. They asked for a Kazak to be assigned. I picked you. If they don't want you, they don't need a Kazak."
***
From the outside, the Harry S. Truman building looked like a bunch of buildings had been pasted together. I arrived at nine a.m. and caused the metal detector to go into terrorist mode. Immediately guns appeared.
"Hands up, down on your knees," One of the elderly guards shouted. Memories of the Pentagon fiasco flashed through my mind.
"Call Assistant Secretary Harrington and tell that asshole his Kazak is in the lobby and if he doesn't get me cleared immediately the Kazaks will black list him and everyone in the State Department.
"Down on the floor," a woman on my right shouted. Her gun pointed at my chest.
"No. Call that asshole Harrington or shoot me," Sorry, Clare. I've had it with these government bureaucrats and their egos. I scanned the room, locating the position of each guard, assessing their probable reactions, and preparing to defend myself.
"I'll shoot, down," an elderly guard shouted. My assessment concluded they weren't really dangerous except by accident. None of these guards had ever shot anyone and weren't going to unless I made a threatening move and then it would be in reflex. I stood still, hands raised slightly over my head. As we stood frozen, I could feel someone approaching from behind me, and saw it in the guards' eyes. Then one of the guards began to smile, I spun blocking a downward strike to my head with his gun and slid behind him. My knife at his throat and my gun aimed back at the guards.
"Drop your guns on the floor and step back. Unlike you, I will shoot. And being a Kazak, I won't miss." I watched as they looked at each other. After a minute, the elderly man nodded and everyone put their gun down and stepped back. I put my knife away and punched "1" on my phone.
"What, Lynn?"
"Chances are I'm going to kill a lot of State Department guards before I die because that asshole you assigned to me didn't clear me. Tell Clare I'm sorry, but I told you never again after the Pentagon incident." I hung up. I backed up against a wall and waited. There was little else I could do. I was sure hoards of police were mobilizing to neutralize the Muslim terrorist in the lobby. I didn't feel sorry for the people I was going to kill-because they initiated the trouble-or me, just Clare.
Sure enough, a few minutes later police in riot gear began showing up in the entrance and further down the hallways.
"Drop you gun and you won't be hurt," a voice from a mega phone blared.
"Drop yours and none of you will be hurt," I answered, scanning for my best defensive positions. It didn't look good. I could kill six or seven but I had no place to exit and would die. I spotted a sniper down a hallway and caught the laser targeting light moving across the wall towards me. I moved my captive in the way. Then phones began to ring everywhere. It was like some cartoon, all these men trying to juggle their guns while reaching for their phones.
"This is Major Gibbson. Everyone lower your weapons. There has been a mistake. The Kazak is not a danger. Lower your weapons, immediately. Repeat the Kazak is not a danger." I'd bet Witton would disagree. A tall man came striding across the lobby toward me. He had his weapon holstered, so I let go of my captive. He staggered a few steps before he gained his balance.
"You bitch, I'll kill you," he screamed.
"You already tried that, remember?"
The Major waved him away. "There appears to have been a mistake. The guards should have been notified of your arrival and the protocol for dealing with a Kazak. On the other hand, you should have been more cooperative." He didn't smile, so I didn't.
"I was. I didn't shoot anyone. You can tell Harrington he's an asshole and I wish whoever issued the fatwa luck." I turned and walked out the door past twenty or more SWAT police.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
"The State Department has lodged several complaints against you." Witton held up his hand before I could respond. "I've subsequently informed them that neither the State Department nor any of their foreign diplomats would ever be assigned another Kazak. It will be interesting to see the repercussions. Would you have killed anyone?"
"It was the Pentagon all over again. I told you then, the next one that touched me would die. They wouldn't call Harrington, and they wouldn't let me leave. One tried to smash me in the head and eventually someone would have taken a shot. They had at least one sniper present. Yes, I would have. Perhaps I'm unstable and the Committee should retire me."
Witton sat looking at me for a long time, as he sipped on his coffee. I sat drinking mine at peace with myself. "Go see Clare. You have a couple of month's vacation accumulated. You've caused an earthquake and a Tsunami is coming. And there is no telling the ramifications. It'll certainly impact more than just you.
***
Ann Marie booked me first class to Denver. I had told Clare I was coming in good health and no stories, although I did have one but I wasn't sure if we could or should print it. Clare was waiting at the checkpoint when I exited.
"You look alright," she said, giving me a critical once over.
"I'm hurt. No 'nice to see you, love'. No hug and a kiss..." I rattled on. She smiled and grabbed me in a bear hug, giving me a kiss on the cheek. We weren't ashamed of kissing in public, but had decided long ago it wasn't worth the reactions it tended to provoke. A warm hug felt as satisfying as a passionate kiss.
"I'm sorry, but you aren't always completely honest. Not that I don't think you love me, but why the visit? It's only been a couple of months and you're not hurt." She laughed.
I waited until we arrived at the condo to tell her about the incident at the State Department. She went stony-faced throughout the entire time and tears ran down her cheeks. Afterward, she pulled me to her, unaware of how hard she was squeezing.
"Damn, you. Damn you, Lynn. I understand but it scares me to death. I'm glad Witton sent you home. Maybe I can love some sense into you. I can kind of see what Witton is thinking. It's easy for the various government agencies that use Kazaks, to say that they just got in the way, and we can do without them. It would be another thing not to be able to depend on their help. What a story this would make!" Clare leapt off the couch, almost knocking me to the floor.