The Kazak Guardians (24 page)

Read The Kazak Guardians Online

Authors: C. R. Daems

Tags: #Science Fiction

BOOK: The Kazak Guardians
6.05Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

The date with the Muslim women was set between the other two dinner engagements.

***

The meeting with the Muslim women was set in the early evening at the Best Western Hollywood Plaza Inn. When I entered, there was a crowd of women, at least thirty. Ann, Mithra, and Peter accompanied me. We decided to leave Lauro at our hotel, since there would be four men guarding him. I had dressed in my black Muznah tunic, matching
hijab
, and a white chiffon
niqab
. That got strange looks. Most had
hijab
s on but no one wore a
niqab
.

"Good evening, ladies-"

"How can you wear
niqab
and speak of women's right to choose?" a young woman in white wearing no
hijab
asked.

"Later, please. Since it is sunset, I would suggest we perform
Maghrib
, as Allah would want us." I started without further comment. In the middle of the ceremony, five men entered with an imam. I continued, knowing Mithra would tolerate no interruption. When I finished, I turned to the men.

"I assume you have performed the
Maghrib
or are you Christians?" I asked, knowing they hadn't. "Perhaps you didn't see the sunset in your rush-"

"Who do you think you are!" a middle-aged man with a beard shouted.

"I'm a Muslim woman who has thanked Allah for his kindness and asked forgiveness for my failures. I believe Allah has missed your thanks." I didn't smile or divert my eyes from his stare. The imam stopped him from replying.

"She has a good point, Hasib. We do not want anyone encouraging our women to forsake Islam," he spoke quietly.

I looked directly at Hasib. "Do I look like someone who wishes to encourage these true believers in Islam to do anything except honor Allah in seeking peace? Do we not agree,
Assalamu alaikum wa rahmatullah
, or don't we wish
Peace and God's blessings
upon those we greet? I see angry men with no peace in their hearts. Men that would beat and kill me if I do not say
aiwa
to their every wish. Allah loves men and women equally, or have I misinterpreted the Quran and the teachings of the imams?" I continued to maintain eye contact.

"Do you mind if we listen to what you have to say, Miss
...
?"

"Layyah al-Najjar. I would be honored, Imam
...
?"

"Abdul-Alim."

"Why do I wear the
niqab
, someone asked. First, because in the Muslim country where I live, if my identity were known, I'd be killed, along with my family and friends, because I do not believe I must say
aiwa
to a man's every wish. Like you women gathered here, I am a devout Muslim who loves Islam. I do not wish our people and religion to be feared and those of us who believe ostracized for our beliefs. This is America. They see our people in Muslim countries as violating human rights and as terrorists, rather than peace-loving people who believe in one God as they do and honor him every day, which they do but weekly at best.

"If we continue to integrate into their society and let them see our religion as no different from theirs and that we are a peace-loving people, they won't fear us and think we are like the few terrorists overseas." I paused. "We do not and should not abandon Islam to integrate, but we must not push our ways on them. If we can't integrate then why are we here? We must have the right to choose, not to abandon Islam, but to show the Americans that you are Muslims and Americans. If not, you will soon be like the Jews were to Hitler."

Just then, Hasib rushed me. I shook my head at Ann. When he reached me, he swung his fist at my head. I blocked it with my forearm, slid my hand down to his hand, and twisted. He went to his knees.

"In anger, this man meant to beat me for saying something he disagreed with. I stopped him in self-defense, without malice or hate as it is taught in the Quran. He can easily become one of those like in Iraq and other countries, who kill innocents because of their hate and intolerance. Is this what we want to teach our people? Are we teaching our men and women to hate or to love, Imam?"

I continued talking, more to the women than the men.

When I finished, the imam stood. "You are a dangerous woman, Layyah al-Najjar, because you advocate change, which we instinctively reject, yet your arguments are persuasive. Would you be willing to talk to the local imams?"

"I would be honored."

***

The dinner with the women activists went all right. There were many questions, but my wearing of the
niqab
and
hijab
was the most contentious issue.

"Choice, ladies. You say you want choices; so do I. Even if I didn't fear for my family and friends, I would choose the
hijab
. I am Muslim and a follower of Islam. More importantly, I'm a woman, and I wish to be a woman. Men are not the standard that I judge you or myself by
...
" That seemed to resonate with them.

The time with the imams was mixed. I only hoped I might have given them something to consider.

***

"Lynn, you're scary. You're not pretending to be Layyah; you've brought her to life. I sometimes forget and believe I'm actually protecting a diplomat named Layyah." Ann shook her head. We were in my suite drinking coffee.

Ann Marie consulted her planner. "You have a couple of free days, Ly
...
Layyah. I have us booked for a private tour at Universal Studios. If you don't mind, I'm going to tag along, because you're going to get the VIP treatment."

"Of course not, but if trouble starts, hit the ground and roll toward the nearest cover. Under no circumstances stand up or even crouch." I held her eyes until she nodded.

The tour went well. I got to attend a few live sets, meet some actors, and see behind-the-scenes action the normal tours don't get. On the way out while walking toward the car, I saw them and noticed that Mithra also had.

"Three heading for us from a group of the milling people and another four or five on either side. Peter, Sammie, Ann, you have the right. I'm left, Lynn center," Mithra rattled off assignments, ensuring everyone knew their area of responsibility in the upcoming shootout. I had responsibility for the three in front. There were too many for me to pretend I was a harmless Arabic woman.

"Ann Marie, I forgot my bag, please go get it now." I pushed her in the direction of the door.

"Everyone, on three. One
...
two
...
three!" I had my gun out of my tunic and firing slightly before Mithra finished saying
three
. My gun had barely cleared my tunic before the center man's gun cleared his jacket. I fired first, hitting him in the chest. He stumbled backward and fell, dropping his gun. By then, the sounds of gunfire and screaming filled the air.

The one on my left had a shotgun under his raincoat. It was half raised when I shot him in the chest twice. His shotgun exploded into the ground as he jerked backward. Sand and dirt rose in a cloud, half blinding me as I turned for the man on my right. With my vision blurred, I knew I would be that crucial second late, so I pushed Ann to my right as I spun left. Pain ripped through my side. I hit the ground and rolled, feeling like I had been thrown off a cliff and smashed into the rocks. I could feel the ground exploding around me as I rolled while identifying my target. I fired three times. He jerked with each shot and pellets sprayed into the air.

I blinked several times clearing my eyes somewhat, and looked to my right for Ann and her targets. Ann was on the ground shooting. Two men were still standing. One had been hit in the chest and was staggering but still shooting. I shot the one who appeared unhurt three times and turned toward the other one in time to see Ann hit him twice. Hearing no more shooting. I ditched the gun as quickly as I could and curled into a ball, trying to pretend Layyah had not been part of the action. The crowd had panicked when the shooting began, so hopefully no one had seen me with a gun.

I could hear Mithra. "Larry's on the ground where I dumped him. He's all right. Sammie has a shoulder wound. Peter took two in the leg. Robert's all right. I'm functional. Ann looks to have been hit but nothing serious. Ly
...
Layyah is down," Mithra summarized for my benefit. Ann Marie came running out.

"I called 9-1-1. The police and an ambulance are on the way."

Meanwhile Mithra and Robert were administrating first aid while we waited.

"Are you all right, Layyah?" Ann gently touched my shoulder, trying to get a better look. I was putting pressure on the wound, while I too waited for the ambulance.

"Yes. Get yourself taken care of. You're bleeding all over my tunic."

"Damn you
...
Layyah. You attract killers like the North Pole attracts a compass needle."

The ambulances took all of us to the hospital. The uninjured went as bodyguards. We spent the rest of the night and most of the next day at the hospital. Ann got away with three flesh wounds-one to her arm, a deeper one to the thigh, a few pellets from the shotgun-and scrape marks from when I had shoved her to the ground. The bullet to Sammie's shoulder fractured the humerus. He would have to be relieved, along with Peter. In his case, the bullet had hit an artery, and he had lost a lot of blood. Mithra probably saved his life with his quick medical assistance. They would both be in the hospital for a while. Mithra took a hit to his shoulder and one to the arm. The arm wound was minor but the bullet to his shoulder had fractured his clavicle. Nevertheless, he decided to continue the tour with me. I had a cracked rib and had lost a fair amount of blood from the shotgun wound. The hospital wanted to keep Mithra and me over night. We declined against strong objections from the doctor. I refused to let anyone go to the police station for questioning.

A police lieutenant was waiting when we reached my room at the hotel. He was in his thirties, athletic looking, with wavy brown hair and a round, clean-shaven face.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Ms. Woehl, but I thought you would like to know the men you killed were from a local white supremacist group. Of course you already knew," he said and paused, apparently waiting for a reply.

"I suspected as much. We had a similar incident in New Orleans. Two of my team were wounded there." Ann looked at the floor for a moment. "I hope none of the bystanders were seriously hurt during the attack on us."

"Incredibly, the only injuries resulted from people running into each other, pushing, and falling. Typical injuries when people panic. I have to congratulate your team. It was an impressive performance. The FBI certainly has an elite group of people." He talked for a bit more, trying to fill in the missing pieces, but Ann excused herself to arrange for additional security coverage.

***

"What! You two intend to continue this masquerade? You two are crazy. You should be in the hospital with Sammie and Peter. You're just as badly injured." She almost stamped her foot in rage.

"Mithra, what would Master Johar say about your injuries?" I asked.

"He would say it was a lame excuse to avoid training. If he were in a really good mood, he might have given me the morning off."

"He would've needed to be in one hell of a good mood. Would you have asked for the morning off?"

He laughed. I could see he immediately regretted it.

"Ann, I'm sorry your team were injured. Maybe I'm carrying this image too far."

"No one was killed, so it was a good day. Anyway, Sammie and Peter will have bragging rights for the next twenty years. I can hear it now.
When I shot it out against thirteen white supremacists...
" She laughed. "I doubt they will mention that two crazy Kazaks where there to help. We know we can be shot while guarding VIPs. The difference is, with you, we
know
we are going to be shot at." She shrugged.

"I don't think we'll have much trouble from the white supremacists for the rest of the trip-Hawaii, Wyoming, Montana, and South Dakota-except maybe in New York. The news coverage worries me. It could get the attention of the Assassins, if Layyah is suspected of participating in the shoot-out with the supremacists."

"You're full of cheery thoughts."

"I'll understand if you want Mithra and me to go on alone. I can get Witton to have you and your team released. He can probably find another Kazak or two." I understood her fear for her team. She was right. I did seem to attract trouble. I had enough scars to prove it.

"I've identified replacements for Sammie and Peter. They should be here tomorrow. Your craziness must be contagious. In the end, I think Lauro is more important, and what you seem to be accomplishing is more rewarding than following some Very Not Important Person around."

"Thank you, Ann."

***

Our stop in Hawaii turned out to be uneventful, much to everyone's relief. I loved the visit to the Volcanoes National Park. Except for a couple little annoying shootouts, I was getting a tour of a lifetime. I only wished Clare was there to share it with me. I had been raised a poor kid who would never have seen any of these wonders, if I weren't a Kazak. The Muslim community on Kona was small, and despite my visibility with the Muslims over the past weeks, I didn't hear from the women or the imam. I only attended one dinner, much to my relief. It gave everyone a rest and time to heal. We left after a week.

***

It was pretty much the same in Wyoming, where we visited Yellowstone National Park and Montana's Glacier National Park. The parks were situated in beautiful country and the sights were beyond description. A few politicians flew up with local news reporters for a small dinner and large speeches. Other than that, it was restful. No large towns for Muslims, white supremacists, or Assassins. For a moment, I had considered buying a rabbit's foot. I decided against it. How lucky can a rabbit be that lost his foot?

After two glorious weeks we headed for upstate New York to see Niagara Falls. As we came closer to New York City and Washington, D.C., I had no illusions that the peace we had enjoyed over the past few weeks would continue.

Ann Marie had booked us into the Marriott Niagara Falls Hotel. I had just entered the room when the phone rang.

Other books

Starting Now by Debbie Macomber
I Travel by Night by Robert R McCammon
Unleash the Night by Sherrilyn Kenyon
Queen Of Blood by Bryan Smith
The Gypsy King by Maureen Fergus
A Man of Influence by Melinda Curtis
Fairfield Hall by Margaret Dickinson