C.R. Daems - Kazak 2 - The Unthinkable

by C. R. Daems

  "I will. Mrs. Askam, I'm sure you're in good hands, but I'll keep a patrol car in the area. Goodnight ladies," he said before turning and leaving. Vanaja remained quiet as she poured herself and me a cup of coffee.

  "You were very hard on Kapil, Lynn. He means well but he doesn't handle crises well. He likes an orderly world. It's one of the reasons his research is on adult cells-there's little if any controversy about them." She gave me a weak smile. "I'm still having trouble coming to grips with the events tonight. I know some people feel very strongly about embryonic stem cell research but I didn't think they would try to kill me."

  "I don't think they were trying to kill you. I think this was meant to be a warning. Shots were fired only because I shot one of them. Otherwise, you would have some fire damage to your garage and siding but little else."

  "If you wounded one, won't that stop them?"

  "I doubt it. Fanatics tend to escalate their violence when threats don't work. They believe they are above man's law. Ironically, they want the full protection of man's law when they're caught."

  "That's not a comforting thought." She stood looking at me. "I thought you were being ridiculous insisting on staying close to me. I still think you overdo it; but, I'm glad you're here. If you're right and it escalates, I'll be glad you're overdoing it."

  ***

  Another week of boredom, which tends to be a problem since everyone relaxes-except me. No action means the fanatics are being cautious and therefore will have a better thought out attack. I've decided that the people after Vanaja are most likely normal upstanding citizens pretending to believe in democracy-so long as you believe what they do. Of course, a few failures could mean they would hire better thugs and even Assassins at some point. Meanwhile, I waited vigilant and bored.

  "Time for lunch," Vanaja said as she rose from her desk. Kapil hadn't joined us since the incident at the house and had done his best to avoid me. I watched everyone in sight as usual, since anyone could be involved in this kind of deeply rooted issue. I noticed a car parked off to the side, as Vanaja stepped into the road on her way to the parking lot. As she did, the car started moving. I pretended not to notice and slowed so I was a step behind her, hoping the car intended to sideswipe her, which would mean I wouldn't be in danger. Suddenly, a horn blasted and the car jumped forward as the driver accelerated. It was a good technique because the noise froze Vanaja. I stepped forward with one leg-providing me with a wide-rooted stance, grabbed her arm, and waited a second for the car to get closer. When it was only a second away and the driver committed, I yanked her and my forward leg backward. As she stumbled past, I let my momentum spin me 360 degrees and drew my gun. The car had gone about fifty yards by then and continued to accelerate. One man was staring out the back window shouting something. I took careful aid and fired three times. The back window shattered and the man in the back screamed. The car weaved from one side of the road to another before gaining control and disappearing up the street. Vanaja lay sprawled on the sidewalk with scrapes on her forearm and a torn pant leg. As she rose to one knee, I saw tears in her eyes.

  "They're gone," I said hoping to reassure her the immediate threat had passed. I noticed the office windows were crowded with people staring at us. Two men came running out and over to us.

  "Can we help, Vanaja?" one said as he helped her stand. The other stood looking at me like he would a wild tiger.

  "Help her to the car. I'll take her to the emergency so they can look her over and treat the scrapes." Fortunately, her Cadillac had a Navigation unit.

  "You were right. The violence is escalating, and you need to be close to me." She didn't smile or look at me. "Did you hit anyone?"

  "Yes, maybe two. One is either dead or will require emergency care."

  We arrived ten minutes later. When we entered, they were just putting a man on a gurney. He looked dead, which was confirmed when they pulled the sheet over his head. Another man was being seated in a wheelchair by an orderly, while a medic pressed a pad into his shoulder. I walked over and stood in front of the wheelchair.

  "Step away," I said nicely. Well, I didn't snarl.

  "Out of the way, idiot. This man is bleeding and need immediate medical attention," the middle-aged medic said, waving for me to move off. I drew my gun, but kept it lowered and scanned the room. Sure enough, a small weasel of a man was moving toward the door.

  "Stop and face down on the floor or you'll be joining your friend. The one on the gurney," I said for clarification. He stopped. People were now out of their chairs and backing away from him and me. I waved Vanaja behind me. "Vanaja, call 9-1-1. We have the people who tried to kill you. You!" I said to medic. "Back away from him. If he tells me who wants my client dead, you can wheel him away. Otherwise, he can sit here and bleed to death."

  "The Pope." He grinned. I waited while continuing to scan the room for trouble.

  "He's going to die if you-"

  I raised a finger to my lips. "Maybe his friend the Pope will come to his funeral."

  "You will burn in hell!" the man in the wheelchair screamed. I remained silent waiting. His shirt was now stained to his waist and blood was dripping on the floor. "You'll go to jail for life if you let me die." It sounded like a plea this time. I waved my gun at the medic when he began to inch towards the wheelchair.

  "Lynn, the operator said the police are on the way. Shouldn't you let them take the man into surgery."

  "No. He's choosing to die a martyr."

  "Father Callahan. He said Vanaja Askam was the devil's spawn, killing God's children. The Bishops and the Pope have confirmed it's direct killing. He said she needed to be stopped in God's name for the sake of our future children."

  I stepped back and motioned for the medic to take him away and walked over to the one lying on the floor. "If I were you, I would plead guilty because if I see you again you'll be joining your friend on the gurney."

  Just then two police officers entered the room and shortly afterward, Captain Clarton.

  "What happened this time, Kazak Lynn?" He nodded to Vanaja as she came up beside me.

  "Someone tried to run Mrs. Askam down. I shot at the retreating car. When we arrived here to have her cuts treated, I found the driver and his friends. One's dead, one is in surgery as we speak, and him." I nodded to the one on the floor. "The one in surgery claims Father Callahan encouraged him and others to stop her in God's name. Seems to me he forgot a couple of commandments: thou shall not kill and taking the name of God in vain."

  "What about you?" Clarton asked frowning.

  "Like soldiers and policemen, I don't do it in God's name."

  Clarton spent a few minutes with Vanaja listening to her tell what she saw during the action. Then I accompanied her back to get patched up, much to the Doctor's frustration.

  "You can't come in. Wait out in the hall if you must. You've caused enough trouble today. That man almost died," he said loudly. His face twisted in anger. I guess he forgot those three men started the trouble. When I walked by him without answering, Vanaja said, "It's alright, doctor."

  He stripped her down to her underwear, and gave her a thorough inspection before applying salve and wrapping her arm. Vanaja drove and decided to go home.

  "You could warn me next time. Thinking back, I realize you saw the car and knew what was happening before the car moved."

  "If I had, where would you have run that the car couldn't have followed? In that case, he would have been able to anticipate your movements. Thinking we hadn't seen him, he thought you were frozen in place and didn't anticipate you moving. It was the best solution at the time." I shrugged. She snorted.

  "What next?" she asked, resignation apparent in her voice.

  "All you can do is go on with your life and let me worry about keeping you safe." I wish I knew. It would be so much easier.

  ***

  The next evening Father Callahan stood in the entrance when Kapil answered the doorbell. They had just finished dinner and putting things away.<
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  "Good evening, Father," Kapil replied. "Please come in. You're most welcome."

  I kept careful watch as he entered. Priests were not above abusing the Ten Commandments they hold up as God's word. And I was not above shooting a priest or rabbi or... He walked directly over to Vanaja and nodded.

  "Good evening, Mrs. Askam. I came to assure you I do not condone what those men-"

  "Yes, you do. You just don't like being called to task for it," I said.

  "How dare you-" Kapil began, but stopped when Callahan shook his head.

  "You must be the Kazak that murdered Mr. Herbert."

  "And the Kazak that is going to continue murdering your avenging angels until you run out of parishioners or I run out of bullets."

  "You are a very disturbed young woman. I can only hope that God will have mercy on your soul."

  "I'd worry about your soul. I don't remember Jesus sending his disciples out to kill people. If I were God, I wouldn't want my ambassador on earth preaching hate and tinkering with my ten commandments. I doubt God thinks the one about not killing is poorly worded." I dislike hypocrites, especially when they want others to do their dirty work so their hands don't get soiled. Vanaja coughed in an attempt to stifle a laugh. Kapil's face was twisted in fury. Callahan stood silent for a long time.

  "Mrs. Askam, I know you are an atheist, but I would appreciate it if you would attend church services tomorrow at ten a.m. I am not asking you to participate, just listen. I'm afraid my passion has been misinterpreted and I need to correct that. I still oppose embryonic stem cell research in any form and want my congregation to fight it in every legal way they can-legal way." He turned and left without another word.

  "She's an abomination, Vanaja. Get rid of her!" Kapil shouted when Callahan closed the door behind him.

  "Lynn, I'm impressed. Your tongue's as deadly as your gun."

  ***

  Vanaja did attend services the next day. I sat with her in the back. Kapil sat up front. True to his word, Callahan did spend over a half hour the expounding on the church's moral opposition to embryonic stem cell research but then emphasized God did not condone violence. Their opposition should be directed towards legal remedies. I wondered if I had struck a nerve or if he just could not afford to lose more parishioners.

  The next two months were more boring than the previous months. Vanaja continued to receive hostile email and tweets, but they seemed more like the normal rants frustrated people give when someone doesn't agree with them. I looked forward to being taken off this assignment and a week's vacation to see Clare. I had earned it. I decided to lobby for an end to the assignment.

  "Hi, boss. This is your extremely bored Kazak who is in need of a good therapist to unscramble my brain."

  "Her office couldn't be in Denver?"

  "She's the best in the country at putting new life into this worn out Kazak." Just the thought of Clare brought a smile to my face and a tingle through my body.

  "I'll check with the Committee. Things do appear to have settled down." The phone went dead. I'd bet he was as rude with his clients as I can be. I loved that man.

  ***

  I woke to the sound of two cars pulling off the side of the road in front of the house. When I made it to the bottom of the stairs, I could see men running up the driveway and several heading for the side of the house. I counted six but there could be more. I took up a position in the kitchen. It provided reasonable cover and had a good view of most of the doors-and hit "1" on my speed dial.

  "Yes." Given the time around three in the morning, the muted response acknowledged he understood the seriousness of my situation.

  "Two car loads of gunmen just dropped in-" My mouth dropped open when I heard a key in the lock and the front door swung open. A head peeked around the corner, then he and another slipped into the room. I shot the first one twice in the chest. As he staggered back against the wall I shot the other one twice. He hit the door. Neither man fell. The first one raised his gun and fired in my direction. SHIT, it's Leesun all over again, the bastards are wearing bulletproof vests!

  Just then, I heard windows being smashed from down the hallway to the media and formal dining rooms. I pulled out my backup gun and began firing at both men's legs-the room was barely lit by the three-quarter moon and they were moving which made the legs an easier target than the head. If I had been Jesse... My stomach ached from the thought.

  Shots and glass from the sliders onto the deck exploded inward as a heavyset man came crashing through and stopped. His gun arm rotated as he looked for a target. Coming up from behind the marble counter, I shot three times. The moonlight and his stationary position made him an easy target. The first two hit home and his head spraying blood in every direction as his momentum drove him backward in the room. Bullets slammed into the counter and ceiling, which meant the two from the front door were on the ground-hopefully bleeding to death-and the counter blocked their fire. I dropped into a split as two men came creeping into the main room from the dining room hallway. That caused the man coming around the corner to hesitate, while he searched for me. By the time he found me on the floor, I had a clean headshot. I scored a direct hit on the first one but missed the second one as he jerked back. He peeked back and we both fired- and missed.

  Just then the door to the garage opened, which was on the opposite side of the house. No shots followed. Having arrived late and in murky light, I doubt they knew where to fire.

  "What's happening," a voice from the door shouted.

  "She's in the kitchen!" one voice came from the floor by the door and the other from the entrance to the dining room. Logically they will be looking for me to exit from around the counter away from the door, since the man on the floor and the one in entrance to the dining room had the other way covered. So, I took two crouching steps and rolled toward the entrance to the dining room. Several shots rang out as I rolled to a standing position against the hallway wall with my gun ready to shot. To my surprise, the man in the hallway was staggering backward-the man on the floor most likely shot him in the process of shooting at me. I shot him in the head to be on the safe side. As I turned back, the man on the floor was crawling forward so he could look into the hallway. I shot him in the head, twice. Pain seared through my side as two blasts rang out. Kapil stood halfway up the stairway with a shotgun.

  As I put four shots into his chest, it all became clear: his attitude towards me, the efforts to have the police arrest me, the key in the lock, and the shotgun in the bedroom. I just hoped he hadn't killed Vanaja yet.

  I didn't know how many were left, but the shooting had stopped. At least temporarily, we seemed to have a standoff. That suited me because I could see the staircase so no one could get up to the bedrooms. The only possible problem came from the blood running down my leg. I couldn't afford a long drawn out stalemate. I tore my shirt off and held the rolled up cloth tight against my side.

  "What's the situation out there? Who has the shotgun?" a voice from the door to the garage shouted.

  "That was Kapil. He hit her but I don't know if she's dead or wounded. We might be the only-" the voice by the sliders was interrupted by sirens and flashing red and blue light danced on what was left of the windows. I have to admit that I was happy to see the boys and girls in blue. More shots.

  "Down on your knees, hands behind you head. Now!" several voices shouted from the outside.

  "Vanaja, are you alright?" I shouted and crossed my fingers.

  "Yes," she said from the top of the stairs, and then she screamed. "KAPIL!"

  "Stop!" I shouted and fired a bullet into the ceiling to get her attention. "Stay where you are. There are still several gunmen running around. The police will be in here in a few minutes. Wait for them." I was tired and slid down the wall to a sitting position. The last thing I remembered was noticing my hand had turned a pretty shade of red.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  I woke to the smell of antiseptic and Al the Cheetah leaning against the wall in the
corner.

  "Hi, Al. We have to stop meeting this way."

  "Witton wanted me here to make sure you didn't shoot any of the nurses or doctors. We could have avoided this medical stuff, if you had invited me and some of the boys to your party. I thought we were friends."

  "I called Witton to invite everyone, but no one showed."

  "Next time, give us some notice and we'll bring the entertainment."

  "How long have I been here?"

  "Three days. They've kept you heavily sedated...for their protection." Al grinned. "They had to operate. You had a slug in your calf and multiple shotgun pelts in your side and arm. And you had lost a lot of blood."

  "Why are you here?" I asked. "Is the Committee or Witton mad at me?"

  "Actually I'm here to protect you. You've upset a bunch of people: a few of the local police for breaking the sergeant's arm and for not being held accountable, most of Callahan's congregation think you should be tried for killing a good church going man, friends of the dead gang members probably would like revenge, and Vanaja hates you one minute and loves you the next."

  "I did her a favor."

  "Witton doubts anyone would try to kill you, but he thought you deserved some peace and quiet. Vince the Panther is guarding Vanaja, although I doubt it will be for long. The serious threat seems to be over. The police investigation has concluded that Kapil had encouraged some of Callahan's parishioners to convince his wife to stop working on embryonic stem cells. When one got killed, he saw an opportunity to stop his wife permanently and hired a local Boston gang. And Vanaja is considering a long vacation while she decides what she wants to do with BioCells.

  "That's good. I need a vacation. Do you know if Witton called Clare?" That was going to be about as much fun as being in a room full of African bees.

  "He's not stupid, Lynn. He'll give you lots of time off and your plane in return for you telling her." Al laughed. "I've met Clare. She's a sweetheart, but she's a little sensitive when it comes to you."