by C. R. Daems
***
I spent the next day with Clare, Executive Editor, Sean Harrison, and the Managing editor, Harry Wilson, discussing the proposed article.
"I would think printing those events would cause you more trouble than it's worth. The government can be very vindictive. They will claim it was an unfortunate incident that I should have submitted to the guards, who had every right to be alarmed." That wasn't what happened; however, it sounded reasonable and who could prove different. I had convinced Sean and Harry, when Clare changed tactics.
"Lynn's right. But what if we say it's a woman and point out this is the second time they have abused her." Clare went on to describe the incident at the Pentagon and the fact that she was at the State Department at their request. Sean and Harry liked the idea, but they and I were walking on dangerous ground. The Post and Clare could be stepping in between a Tsunami and a volcano eruption.
"I would appreciate you letting me get approval before you print anything. So far everyone has been pleased with the articles on the unknown Kazak. I would hate to jeopardize any future articles and see the Post hurt in any way. Unless my boss is wrong, this is a clash between Titans." I had crashed the HIAB vehicle and hazardous waste was looking for someplace to land. I didn't want it landing on Clare.
For the next three days, Clare stayed home and worked almost non-stop from early in the morning to late at night. I made her coffee and lunch, answered an occasional question, and ordered in our dinner. Finally, that afternoon she turned her laptop towards me and sat back with a smile.
"It's ready for your approval, my love," she said with twinkling eyes and a wicked looking smile. I poured myself a large coffee and began reading. It was a clever approach, proving what I had always known-she was a talented person and had earned her present position with the Post. She described a woman Kazak being assaulted by male guards who should have known better and who made no attempt to verify that an Assassination was in progress. She described the incident in all its gory details-leaving out the beating I gave them. Then pointed out the State Department had requested a Kazak to protect one of the executives yet didn't notify the guards. Without saying it, the article implied total incompetence or willful vindictiveness for the woman.
"Wow. Remind me never to get you mad at me. I think it may fly. You have masterfully sidestepped the Kazak versus State Department debate and put it on a more personal level-government knee-jerk and macho reactions." I called Witton.
"Boss, how are things going?" Thought I should approach this through the back door.
"It's been quiet on the surface. The State Department did report that a person entered the building with an unauthorized weapon, which created a minor incident that was quickly resolved." He gave a small laugh. "Like calling Vietnam a routine police action. But I think something big is going on behind the scenes. So stay put. The Committee has put a hold on all assignments for the government. I suspect this is going to result in Committee Rules."
"Boss, Clare has written an article on the incident, which I would like you to show the Committee. She won't print it without your approval. I'll send it to your email, encrypted."
"Alright. Understand that I won't forward it unless I feel it's in the best interest of the Kazaks. Clare, please don't print it without approval. Although my main interest is the Kazaks, I don't want you or Lynn hurt."
"I won't," Clare said and Witton hung up. Over the next two week, the stakes escalated. The Committee authorized Clare's article, which went national within two days. The State Department's PR fired back saying they didn't need Kazak's to protect their people. Their security was in fact better. The Kazaks had been forced on them. Five days later Assistant Secretary Harrington was assassinated along with three of his security detail. Four days later Wiki Leaks disclosed emails from an Assistant Secretary Royston detailing Israeli's stance refusal to stop the encroachment into disputed Palestinian territory. He had fired back that the Jews and the Muslims were all terrorists and we'd be better off burning all the Torahs and Korans and replace them with Christian bibles. The State Department refused to comment and then Royston disappeared. Three days later, it was reported that Royston was dead. It was rumored, his detail had shot him. Sounded to me like someone had hired an Assassin-a Liar. The next day, Witton called.
"You can come home, the situation has been resolved. The State Department has withdrawn the complaints against you, although I doubt they shredded them. But as part of the agreement, the Committee agreed to place a reprimand in your file. It reads:
"The Committee feels that Lynn the Fox should have shown additional restraint when confronted by State Department security, even though they didn't. The incident could have been avoided, if the State Department hadn't been negligent and informed security of her arrival. We feel that Lynn did exercise extreme restraint by not escalating the confrontation. We are pleased with her subsequent moderation in her interview with Clare Frazer of the Denver Post. Ms. Frazer is to be complimented for her excellent article describing the background leading up to the incident.
"That's a reprimand?" I expected a reprimand and more. Even Clare felt I had over reacted, although her article demonstrated she understood.
"The Committee won, and it satisfies the agreement reached with homeland security. From now on, any Kazak only need show their tattoo to be granted general access to any government facility. Security may verify your authenticity by calling a number in this office. It will ask for a password, which will be typed in on the phone. The Kazak's picture will then be displayed-simple but effective. A memorandum has been sent to the appropriate agencies. You dodged the bullet. The Committee is pleased because they won a major concession. A shootout would have had an entirely different outcome."
"I guess that makes me the most hated Kazak in the country?"
"I suspect you have moved up on the government shit-lists. Although now that Raifah al-Ayyub is returning to the US and has requested a Kazak named Lynn as part of her security, I believe you've made number one on all the State Department's lists."
***
I stood on the Tarmac scanning the area while waiting for Raifah al-Ayyub to exit the Libyan aircraft. The Diplomatic Security team leader stepped up beside me. I knew because he had been watching him direct activities for the past hour. He was in his early thirties, curly brown-hair, with an all-American look, and trim.
"Good morning, Kazak Lynn. I'm Tony Mattell, the team leader of the Diplomatic security team. May I see your tattoo, please," he asked with what looked like it might be a smile. The please was a nice touch. I pushed back my sleeve, which had a throwing knife attached. What no well-dressed lady would leave home without. He ignored it and turned his head to get a better look.
"Very nice. I've never actually seen one before. Certainly hard to steal." He did smile this time. "Fox?"
"We are each given an animal name based on our predominate skill. Most are Tigers, Lions, Panthers, or Cheetahs." During my explanation, he dialed our number and handed me the phone. I typed 568325273 (love Clare) on the dial and my picture appeared. I handed him back the phone.
"Sorry."
"Don't apology for doing your job. I don't."
"How do we work together on this detail?"
"We don't. You do what you're used to doing and I do the same," I said. When he frowned, I decided to be nice-sort of. "You're good at what you do. I've been watching you secure the area and position your team. And I'm good at what I do. If we made an attempt to coordinate, we'd both screw up. Raifah has two personal bodyguards, Jaffar and Nasser. While she is here, I'm her third and primary bodyguard." Just then, Raifah exited the plane with two guards behind her. She was a striking woman, tall with an olive complexion, midnight-black hair, green-gray eyes, high cheek-bones, and full lips. When she had cleared the steps, I stepped forward.
"Assalaam Alaikum Raifah al-Ayyub," I said, the typical Peace be upon you greeting, and made a small bow.
"Wa Alaikum assalaam," she replied wit
h a nod. "It is good to see you again, Lynn. I hope you don't mind that I asked for you."
"No, Raifah, I'm quite honored. Most clients are glad to see the end of me," I quipped only half in jest.
She turned to her reception party, which included an interpreter. After a lot of bowing and scraping, we entered the second of several limousines. Her entourage included her two private guards, several diplomatic security people, a variety of diplomats, and me. She entered and waved her two private guards and me in next, then the two senior diplomats there to greet her. Surprisingly, her first stop was the Secretary of State. Much to the Secretary's disapproval, I followed Raifah in. She turned and waved Tony in. After an exchange of pleasantries, Raifah nodded in my direction.
"I have a feeling from the run-a-round I got from your people, that Lynn isn't well liked here at the State Department. I can understand. I don't know about all Kazaks, but I know Lynn. She appears arrogant and by normal standards, she is. But not for the reasons must people assume. Tony and his team will ensure any area I'm in is safe and they will stay close. While he and his team will do their best to protect me, they will do their best to stay out of my way so as not to annoy or interfere with me. You and they see your world through diplomatic eyes. Lynn sees her world through her client. She has no problem interfering with my activities or ignoring me if she feels it increases my danger.
"Tony stands here in a room with the Secretary of State, a diplomat, and a Kazak. Lynn stands here in a room with her client and two individuals who she is evaluating as potential danger. If she thought for a second either of you threatened me, she'd kill you in a heartbeat.
"If a gunman came crashing through that door right now, Tony would defend you, Mr. Secretary, although he is my security guard. Lynn would defend me. It would never occur to her to defend either of you.
Although your people claim to have saved me from that sniper last time I was here, they didn't contribute in anyway. I'm not implying they were incompetent or weren't doing their job. Lynn's training gives her an amazing ability to assess her environment almost instantly and act simultaneously with the threat. She recognized the threat of a sniper, dumped me on my ass, and was shooting at him before anyone knew there was a threat. If not, I would have been killed. Notice she didn't argue with your people's statement that she got in the way. She saved her client, neither you or anything else were important." Raifah paused and smiled at me. A very smart woman.
"You're right, Miss al-Ayyub," Tony said. "When I asked Lynn how we would work together, she said we don't. I did think her arrogant at the time. You've helped me understand better. And you're right, I would never dump you on your...ass, or tell you where to sit or insist on entering with you into a meeting. This should be an interesting detail," Tony said glancing back and forth between Raifah and me. The conversation changed to conditions in Libya and Raifah's planned schedule in the US. The Secretary's eyes kept sliding towards me. Maybe he thought I might shoot him.
"I have a few people I hope will manage to see me and I'm hoping Lynn will help me develop a program for Kazak-like bodyguards in my country."
That got my attention. I almost stopped considering Tony and the Secretary as potential Illusion Assassins-it kept me from getting bored.
***
That night in the hotel, Raifah ordered dinner in the room. Afterward, she settled back with a glass of Beaujolais.
"We're going to Niagara falls and Las Vegas on the pretense of seeing the sights. In reality, I'm hoping to meet secretly with some people. Then Lynn, I leave it to you where we go. I want a preliminary curriculum by the time I leave, which is capable of producing Kazak-like bodyguards. I know it can't be done in a year, but it can't take nine. I would be happy with producing guards like Jaffar and Nasser, but their backgrounds are very diverse to reproduce."
Her two guards almost glowed with pride as she talked. Those men truly loved Raifah. She was right. It would be impossible to find a Jaffar or Nasser for every person who needed guarding. It would be far too time consuming and the results unpredictable. You couldn't just pick good people and send them to three months of training. In six months you wouldn't know who the good people are or who was right for the job. You needed a school like the Kazaks had.
"Jaffar, Nasser, tell me your background and training before becoming Raifah's bodyguard." I was interested in learning about their experience and qualifications. Both had joined the Army at an early age. Jaffar spent years in a commando battalion and fought in the Chadian-Libyan conflict. Nasser spent some time with border defense units and several years in a regime security brigade. They applied for bodyguard duty and were selected by Raifah. She had good intuition.
***
We left the next day for New York. Tony's team consisted of four men and one woman. At my suggestion, his team provided two to three persons during the day and one at night outside her hotel room. I stayed next to her at all times. Nasser and Jaffar usually flanked her. And the security people usually stayed outside of stores and restaurants. Tony's people rotated during the day, but to his credit, he was part of the entourage most of the time.
Whoever made reservations for Raifah had booked a suite at the Marriott Niagara Falls Hotel Fallsview & Spa. During the day, she visited the normal tourist spots. In the evening she met with a variety of officials and others who appeared linked to Libya in some way or the other. And she spent hours on the phone talking in Arabic. I could understand the conversations but really wasn't interested. In general, it consisted of raising money for various activities and exchanging information about politics in Libya. The third night she was the guest speaker at a fund-raiser for Senator Clantton. To the Senator's annoyance, I insisted her table be off to the side where I could stand against the wall and watch her at dinner. I felt a little jealous during her speech on women's rights. I had enjoyed my time pretending to be an Arabic woman fighting for free choice.
The next day, she decided to take the Journey Behind the Falls tour. We had finished the walk and were standing on the lower observation deck at the very foot of the falls, when I saw a man walking towards us. Nasser saw him also. I shook my head in the negative. He wasn't a gunman. From the way his right hand was closed around something, he was a suicide bomber. If Nasser rushed him, we'd all be on the rocks at the bottom of the falls and Clare would be really pissed. I hoped he had a statement of some kind before he went to pieces.
"LOOK! A MAN'S FALLEN INTO THE FALLS," I shouted as I slowly took several steps backward, pointing to the Falls. Everyone was intently following my finger including my bomber, as I continued backward. Curiosity killed the cat. As his head turned back to Raifah, I continued shouting. "HE'S GOING TO DIE. SMASHED ON THE ROCKS."
Now I was only a step from his arm-the problem-a dead man's switch or button activated? It made a bloody difference-literally. He started his speech the minute I stopped to take a breath.
"Raifah al-Ayyub, you sin against-"
I stepped back and grabbed his right hand with mine, and plunged my knife into his armpit. Warm blood soaked my hand as it tore through skin, muscle, and more importantly, nerves. His arm went dead as I drove a knife-edged kick to his knee. It dislocated and he fell onto it, stopping him from jerking his hand away from mine. I couldn't stab for the heart without possibly setting off his bomb, so I put my knife through his eye. He collapsed. People were screaming and running into each other in an attempt to get away from the madwoman and the men, Jaffar and Nasser, who had guns showing.
"Jaffar, I need something to tie his hand." He grabbed Raifah's scarf and we managed to tie his hand closed. Tony stood looking down at us as we finished tying the final knot. One of his two agents moved toward Nasser who stood in front of Raifah shielding her. The other stood looking at us. I had just finished when three men dressed in firemen overcoats came running in. I dove away from where Nasser and Raifah stood and past Tony, rolled and began shooting.
"STOP. THEY'RE FIREMEN, YOU MANIAC!" Tony screamed while waving his hand
. I shot the first one in the head, rolled, and fired again. Now Nasser and Jaffar were firing. It looked like a comedy act, as the two firemen bucked back and forth as bullets hit them from three directions. Diving away from Raifah had diverted attention way from her and towards Tony, a security guard, Jaffar, and me. The firemen had managed to fire several shots. Several missed everything, one hit the dead man, one hit the ground next to Tony's feet, and one hit the security guard standing in the area I dove.
"Let go," I said waving to Nasser who had Raifah's arm. Jaffar and I fell in next to her. Jaffar had alerted the driver on the way out and her two cars were waiting.
"Driver, Buffalo, New York," I said. Everyone stared but said nothing. I called Tony.
"Tony, we're going to Buffalo. Can you have someone pickup our stuff and send it to Las Vegas?"
"Why?"
"Because Raifah al-Ayyub's bored with Niagara Falls." No response from Tony. Raifah laughed. Nasser and Jaffar smiled.
"I'll meet you in Buffalo. Let me know where when you get there."
"I will." I hung up and called Ann Marie. "Good afternoon my super tour director. Would you find me a ride out of Buffalo to Las Vegas for eight? Please. We left our ride in Niagara Falls."
"For my very generous client, I'll be happy to. By the way, those seats at the Kennedy Center are excellent. Thank you."
"Considered them renewed for another year," I said and hung up. I had booked two tickets for Ann Marie, because of all the arrangement she had made for me over the years, which wasn't part of her responsibilities.
***
The ride was quiet. As we neared Buffalo, Ann Marie called. "Miss Fox, I managed to get Gendel's plane for the trip. It should arrive in two hours. Have a good trip." She laughed and hung up.
"Who's Gendel?" Raifah asked.
"One of those people that feel they owe me for doing my job."