C.R. Daems - Kazak 2 - The Unthinkable (11 page)

I arrived in Richmond late and by the time I reached the Kazak complex it was well past midnight. I use to think of my two-bedroom suite as home, now I considered it my temporary residence. I woke early and wandered downstairs for breakfast. The room was empty except for Al the Cheetah. He waved.

"Hi, Lynn, have a seat unless you've come to invite me to another party. The one at the Sovereign Whites of America was fun."

"As I remember you were a good date," I quipped. Al had accompanied me to the skinheads meeting where we killed several for their attack on my client, Father Joseph. I scanned the menu quickly and ordered coffee, bacon, and eggs.

"Have you been hibernating? There hasn't been a complaint posted to your board in years. The last one was from the Nevada police. As I remember, you shot some gang banger in the back. Three bullets did seem like bad shooting." He smiled. I thought everyone must have heard I spent time on the Hill but maybe not what I had been doing since. So, I gave him the highlights of my last two assignments. He in turn gave me an entertaining account of his year with a House Representative from Utah. Nothing happened. Al suspected the man's wife had sent him the threatening letters and she would have been justified in killing him.

Just after eight, I made my way to Witton's office. Ann Marie was already there and handed me a cup of coffee.

"He's expecting you, go right in."

"Hi, Boss. Thanks for getting Jimmy a job. He and Susan deserve a fresh start."

"You were right. The Committee wanted the people after Hearn caught and punished-and hoped you would somehow do something to get Hearn off the streets. I'm glad you succeeded in motivating him, but I'm concerned about the Committee having secret agendas."

"That's their problem. My job is to protect the client and nothing else. Maybe I should add that to my rules." I grinned.

"No. You've had a very positive effect on some of your clients. That's good; however, that's not part of your responsibility. I will point that out to the committee, but I know it isn't going to change their thinking. For better or worse, you're their lab rat...well fox.'" He grinned for a moment, then sat worrying his lower lip. He was concerned. I wasn't. Witton had concerns, the Committee had concerns, and I had concerns. They were each different, yet like an overlapping Venn diagram, there existed an area where they intersected and were the same. Witton looked up.

"There is a General Udella who has had many threatening emails and letters because of his successful efforts to get the president to increase our presence and stepped up activities in Afghanistan, which has resulted in increased US military and Afghan civilian deaths. The Pentagon believes it's one of several Muslim pro-Al-Qaeda groups disguising themselves as anti-war activities. The Pentagon doesn't want you involved-you're still on their active shit-list. However, General Udella knows Sharer and Sorinson and has insisted on having you, ignoring the Pentagon's objections. That has probably moved you up on their list. Udella will be expecting you tomorrow at his home in Baltimore."

***

I had hired a taxi to take me to their house, since I wouldn't need a car. I told the taxi cab driver to wait, just in case, even though this time Udella knew I was a woman and a Kazak, but you never know. The house was a two-story, with dormers on what could be a third floor attic. Two stone stairways, one from the driveway and the other from the sidewalk, led to a long country-like porch and the front entrance. A ten by ten over-hang supported by two twelve-foot columns sheltered the porch.

I knocked at the front door and a few minutes later a tall athletic looking man in his fifties answered. He wore brown slacks and a beige shirt, which had a military look. He stood ramrod straight with an "I'm in charge" stance and look.

"You must be the Kazak Lynn. I've heard much about you, both good and bad depending upon the source. Putting it nicely, our security people don't like you; however, the people you've guarded do. Come in, I'd like you to meet my wife and son." He didn't seem to want a response so I followed in his wake without a word. He turned left into a huge living room. A small woman sat on a beige couch and a youth in his late teens sat in a matching chair. The woman had a pleasant smile and rose to greet me. The youth remained seated and was frowning.

"Mary, I'd like you to meet Kazak Lynn. Lynn this is my wife Mary and the boy sulking in the chair over there is my son, David. He's the one you will be guarding," he said nodding towards the chair.

"She's a woman. How's she going to protect me? Beside, I don't want her following me around. How is that going to look- a woman guard? My friends-"

"Quiet David. It's decided, unless you want to be confined to the house."

"All right," he said after a pause, "but there are places she can't go." He smiled or sneered. I wasn't sure which. He had that cocky attitude many youths develop as they begin to approach adulthood and feel they are free to make their own decision, even though they still depend upon their parent's financial support. Udella turned to me frowning. His wife's eyes darted from him to her son. A confrontation was coming-time for the rules.

"General, I'm sure Sharer and Sorinson told you about my rules. They are non negotiable. I'm willing to risk my life to protect my client; therefore, I expect my client to help. If they refused to accept my rules, I just leave. I can't protect someone if I can't see him. Since in this case it's your son, I only need your agreement that I can enforce my rules without your son's approval."

"I'd like to see that-"

"What are your rules," Mary asked hesitantly. Udella glared at his son.

"In general, they're simple. The client must be in my sight or alone in a room that has no access I can't guard."

She stood quietly for a moment. "That could be awkward."

"If a client's life isn't worth a bit of awkwardness, then why bother with a Kazak. You can hire any bodyguard who will give you all the privacy and space you want."

"You have my permission to enforce your rules as you see fit," Udella said continuing to glare at his son, who was trying to stop a grin. I knew he was thinking he would get around them one way or the other. "Let me show you the email and letters I been getting."

I turned to his son. "David if you're considering jumping in your car and driving off. Don't. When I catch up with you, I'll break the leg you drive with. Then I won't have to worry about that anymore. I will enforce my rules. I don't care if you hate me. I'm here to protect your life not to be your friend." I turned back to Udella who smiled. Mary had turned pale. David had stopped smiling.

"You're just what I want. He doesn't take this threat seriously. I don't know if it is or not, but I don't want to bet his life on it." We spent the next half hour looking at emails, letters, and pictures of people holding signs on the side of the road and even a couple in front of his house.

"Well what do you think, Lynn?"

"The two threatening your son's life could be serious. Whoever sent them knew how to get your attention and to make you worry. You can shrug off threats against you, but not your family. Has anyone taken any action you would consider strange or threatening?"

"No, no overt action. I've thought I've seen a strange car in the area several times, but I might be thinking that because of the letters."

"I have to take the threat seriously whether they are or not. I must keep him close to me and, therefore, will enforce my rules. He thinks he can out smart me or talk me out of them. He's wrong. If he once jumps in a car without me and drives off, I will break his leg. Are you sure you want me?" I felt he needed fair warning. He laughed. "I think the experience will be good for him. His mother spoils him and I'm frequently traveling. Yes, I'm sure."

We walked back to the living room where David and his mother were in a whispered argument. I walked over to the far wall and folded into a sitting position. Udella and his wife gave me a strange look.

"Is that what she does-sit around and stare?" David laughed and started towards the hallway. When he looked, I was two steps behind him. "Where are you going?"

"Wherever you're going." I couldn't help smiling at the look on his face. He clomped intentionally hard up the stairs and turned into a bedroom. He tried to close the door but my foot stopped it. As I walked into the room, he grabbed my arm and pulled. I knew a punch to the face was coming-typical tactic from untrained fighters. I spun around, left forearm blocking the punch and driving the arm downward out of the way. Then I spun back to the left driving my elbow into his solar plexus. The air exploded out of him as he stumbled backward into a nightstand knocking over a lamp and the contents of the table to the floor. He lay there fighting to breathe. Two minutes later his mother and father burst into the room.

"Nothing to worry. David and I were discussing my rules. Somewhere in the rules it says not to punch your bodyguard. Maybe I forgot to tell him," I said watching him. His mother ran over and knelt next to him. "He's alright, Mrs. Udella. Like any young man, he was testing the limits. Since it was the first time, I took pity on him and gave only a light reprimand."

"Who the hell do you think you are?" he screamed now that he could breathe again. The General laughed.

"If I did that they'd bring charges against me. Come, Mary, he's obviously all right and in good hands." He reached down and pulled her from the room. I ignored David as I surveyed the room: two regular windows, a connecting bathroom with a small window. The question was how serious was the threat. Udella and his neighbors each had about a half-acre of land, providing plenty of opportunities for a sniper at night. Although the room had only one door and was located on the second floor, he could get out via the window if he was desperate enough. But he would want his car.

"Who am I? I'm a Kazak. Even if I kill you, I'm immune from prosecution. Next time you pull a stunt like that, I'll break something: nose, arm, leg. Something. Your father loves you and is concerned about your safety. It's time to grow up." I picked up his keys from the desk and left the room, shutting the door quietly behind me-cruel but satisfying. It kept him from having the satisfaction of slamming the door. I spent a few minutes with the General discussing heavy drapes or blankets for all the windows at night and providing me with a comfortable chair for the hallway. By guarding the stairs to the bedrooms, I could keep an eye on access to them and the street.

***

David came down the stairs at eight thirty the next morning, ignored me, and headed for the kitchen. I stood and watched as he had a bowl of Raisin Bran and milk. I helped myself to cereal and the coffee Udella had made for himself earlier.

"My friends and I are going to the beach today. You can follow me in your car. You do have a car, don't you?" He smiled knowing damn well I had arrived in a taxi.

"Don't need one. I'll be in the passenger's seat."

"There's five of us so there's no room." Another smirk.

"Guess one of your friends will need a ride." This was like having a conversation with a four-year-old.

"There are five of us!" he snarled.

"I guess you thought I was joking yesterday when I said next time I would break something. That applies equally to your friends." I had just finished when his mother entered. She had that worried look again. I imagine David had been emotionally bribing her to arbitrate with his father for years. She looked worn out.

"Mother, this...this woman is going to ruin my life. She intends to follow me everywhere I go. I hate her!" he shouted. Before she could speak, I held up my hand.

"He's testing you, your husband, and me. Just like children do. I don't know whether the threat to his life is real, but I have to assume it is. Nothing you or he can say will make me compromise my rules and put his life in jeopardy. If you and General Udella are uncomfortable with that, I'll leave and there will be no replacement.

"Tell her to leave, Mother!" Mary looked at David and back at me.

"You're not helping..." She turned and walked out of the kitchen. I felt sorry for her. David had knifed her with his emotional blackmail. He set up a conference call with his friends and worked out the transportation situation, making sure he belittled the threat, criticized his father, and trashed me and my attitude.

***

In the end, there were three cars as three more joined the party. The idea of a Kazak guarding David made it an adventure. On the trip to the beach, David sulked while his two friends asked a hundred questions: how do you become a Kazak, what do you study, who do you guard.... I played nice but limited my answers to general information. When we arrived, the party had already started. David and his four friends, three that decided to come after they knew a Kazak was guarding him, and five girls. They all attended the same high school, were from families with money, and planned on attending college, although only two were going to the same college. I sat off to the side where I could watch everyone. From time to time someone would come and sit near me, although I encouraged a little distance so as not to restrict my vision or movement if necessary. Two boys, who had come because of me, and two of the girls were the most frequent visitors. Towards evening, there were some pairing off and booze appeared. Since I wasn't here to enforce the local laws or morality, I didn't interfere. When the party broke up, David was drunk. I studied the two boys, Mark and Jake, who rode up with us, and decided Jake was closest to sober.

I snatched the keys from David and threw them to him. "Jake you're driving."

"It's my car!" David shouted and began to grab at the key but stopped-probably remembered yesterday.

"It's my life and you're drunk. Either we sit here until you're sober or Jake drives." In the end, Jake drove. I keep asking Jake questions to keep him from dozing off, since David and Mark had passed out. When we arrived at the Udella's house, the two boys walked off. I sat in the driveway waiting for David to wake up. I was neither his nursemaid nor concerned about his relations with his parents. His father came out around one a.m. and dragged him into the house and dumped him on the couch.