The Kazak Guardians (6 page)

I went out and found a seat in what looked like a small waiting area. The minute I sat down his guard dog wagged a finger at me.

"You can't sit there. You'll have to find someplace else."

"Lady, I'll sit wherever I see fit. If you don't like it, go home." I crossed my legs and leaned back. It promised to be as boring as Witton had suggested. The only question was whether the governor's antagonist or I would shoot him first.

"I'll call security, if you don't move."

"You better talk to the governor first. If you or he calls security, I'll leave and your governor will be permanently without a Kazak." I ignored her and began watching the people. Any of these people could want Masson dead, judging by his attitude. The guard dog stopped barking, and I spent the morning watching people come from and go into the governor's office. Midday, Masson appeared with a woman who had entered a little over a half an hour before. I stood and followed them down the corridor. He stopped and turned toward me.

"Why are you following me? I know my way around the capitol building."

"Sir. I'm following you because I'm a Kazak and that's what Kazaks do. If you don't want me following you, then you don't need a Kazak, and I can leave. It's your choice."

"You're very rude, young lady. I'm the governor here, not some clerk!" he shouted. It seemed to be his reaction to everything.

"So have you made up your mind, Governor? Do you want me to follow you or leave?" I asked quietly. I felt like a coiled rattlesnake ready to strike. He pulled out his cell and dialed someone.

"Witton, this is Governor Masson. The Kazak you sent me is unacceptable. Send someone else." There was a pause. "What do you mean you don't have anyone else?" He turned and stared at me. I stared back.

"Do I follow you or not?"

"I'd get rid of her, if it were up to me," his female friend said. "I doubt she could take me in a fight." She gave me a sneer. I laughed. She was getting ready to say something when Masson shouted.

"Follow me, but not too closely." He turned and stomped away. I followed as close as before.

We soon established a routine. He would go from office to office and slam the door after he entered. I would wait until he emerged and follow him to the next office. When he drove, I was expected to follow him in another car. At a restaurant or at his home, I had to stay in the car. I had no one to relieve me, and Witton didn't seem anxious to send another Kazak. I grabbed what sleep I could when he was in the capitol building. I felt an attack would most likely come when he was outside, so I had to stay alert then.

About a month later, I was sitting in my usual place outside his office with my eyes closed when some jackass thought he would be cute. He had found a baseball bat from someplace and was going to demonstrate how useless I was. I heard him stop in front of me and opened my eyes in time to see him start his swing. I sprang up, driving my shoulder into his chest. He staggered backward. I dropped down and swept his feet out from under him. When he landed on his back, I stomped down onto his solar plexus. He lay doubled up on the floor, screaming, choking, and crying.

"Do we have any more clowns in this building?" I looked around at the five men who had stayed to watch his act. Just then, the governor came out.

"What the hell are you doing? Are you a maniac? Someone get a medic. And you... " He pointed at me. "You're going to apologize to Simon, and I'm going to complain to your boss." His face was red and as usual, he was shouting. Witton had said I didn't have to take any nonsense from him, and he had treated me like a dog. I pointed at Masson.

"You shut your mouth. I've had all I'm going to take from you. Address me in a civil tongue or I'm leaving. This clown swung a baseball bat at me. He's lucky I think he's a wimp or he'd be on the way to the hospital now. Get this straight. I'm a Kazak, not your lap dog. I work twenty-four hours a day, unlike you idiots, and need some rest." I sat down and closed my eyes. There was a deathly silence. I heard people quietly tip-toeing back to wherever they came from. Even Masson went back into his office without slamming the door.

Nothing much changed except everyone gave me a wide berth, including his little old guard dog. I was standing outside the men's room when I heard someone shouting for someone to call 911. When I looked in, the governor had a knife sticking out where his heart was supposed to be.

I shook my head and returned to Richmond and an unknown fate.

I could imagine the conversations back at the capitol building.

"What good was she?"

"Women shouldn't be guards."

"She didn't do anything but laze around."

And then it would become, "She was responsible for his death."

"If she hadn't come, he'd still be alive."

"They should charge her with murder... "

I stood in front of Mr. Witton's ebony desk, my mind in turmoil. I had let my client get killed. I'd failed to protect him. My self-loathing was interrupted when Witton spoke.

"Lynn, the Committee has concluded that you were not negligent or in any way responsible for the death of Governor Masson. He was killed in the men's room, which was not only off limits to you but normal procedure would be to guard the door and not enter. They've concluded an Illusion or Ghost Assassin killed him. Either type of Assassin would be difficult if not impossible to detect entering or leaving."

"What committee?" I asked, totally confused. I had never heard of a committee. Witton leaned back in his chair and waved me to sit.

"The group that funds us and provides us with diplomatic immunity is governed by a Committee, which appears to conduct business somewhat like a foreign embassy. They not only approve all our contracts, but they are the sole judges of our conduct. If innocent people are hurt or killed by our actions, the Committee determines their compensation and our culpability. We wouldn't be subject to criminal or civil prosecution. The Committee would decide our guilt or innocence and take appropriate action. Because a client died in your care, a review by the Committee was required." He paused to watch me. "To answer your question, no one knows who or what the Committee is except that they have unprecedented power. Take a few days off to rest, until I find you another assignment."

***

I lay in bed, sweating, tossing, and turning the whole night. Kazaks were meant to save the people they guarded. I hadn't. If I had been in the men's room with him, I might have been able to save him. Why wasn't I there? I should have been.

The next day I didn't eat, pacing the floor until the early hours of the morning. Then I tossed and turned until dawn. I rose blurry-eyed and sweating. Grabbing a sheet of paper, I began writing down the things I should have done. When I finished, I realized that in order to perform my duties properly, I would need the client's cooperation. That didn't seem unreasonable. I risked my life to save the person I guarded, but I had to be there when an attack occurred. Now that I had my list, I made an appointment with Witton. I slept better that night.

Early the next morning, I stood in front of Witton's desk. As he had the last time I was before his desk, he wore a dark blue suit, red and black striped tie, and light blue shirt.

"Lynn, you look like you haven't slept for a while." He stared at me. "Is your lack of sleep because you blame yourself for the death of the governor? I hope you aren't considering leaving us."

"No, sir. I intend for the Kazaks to be my life. I just don't want to have someone I'm guarding die because I wasn't there to protect him. I'm willing to risk my life to protect the client, but he needs to cooperate. I've concluded there are things I need to do to be in a position to protect him. I've made a list of rules," I said in a rush and handed him my carefully hand-written list. He took the paper and began reading. Every few seconds he looked up at me and frowned, smiled, or snorted.

"This is an interesting list. I'd agree that if you can implement this list, you'd make it nearly impossible to get to your client without going through you. This list is, however, invasive. I doubt you can get a client to cooperate."

"I'm willing to risk my life to protect the client. Is it too much to ask for the client to help? It's his life," I pleaded. He stayed quiet for some time, looking from me to the list.

"You're already the talk of the Kazak community. Before you showed up, everyone would've said the Kazaks were no place for a woman. Of course, it'll be some time before a general consensus is reached." He took a sip of his coffee, never taking his eyes off me. I wasn't sure if he was waiting for me to say something or not. I knew most people had thought I wouldn't survive the second challenge much less the fifth. And that damn governor getting killed on my watch wasn't going to help. I felt like I was under an electron microscope.

"Those who have worked out with you have been impressed. Even I was worried that the death of your first client might drive you out-"

"I'm staying-" I blurted out. Before I could apologize, he continued like nothing had happened.

"Instead, you bring me an impressive list of Kazak and client responsibilities. You've given us another thing to consider. I think you'll be good for the Kazaks by forcing us to reevaluate our preconceived ideas. I'm going to back you and your list. You must understand it is an experiment, which I may stop at any time. Even if it works for you, not everyone will choose to follow it. Kazaks are allowed a lot of flexibility in the way they choose to protect their clients."

I couldn't help but smile. I could breathe again. "Thank you, Mr. Witton. I promise you I'll die before another client of mine gets killed."

"Let's not talk of dying. Let us talk of protecting our clients. I don't want any Kazak martyrs. I do have a condition." When his lips twitched in a crooked smile, my heart stopped. "That you allow me to post your list and any complaints you get implementing
Lynn's Rules
. That will help each Kazak evaluate your rules and decide their applicability for themselves."

"Yes, sir."

***

A week later, I answered the door to find it was Witton.

"Come in, Mr. Witton." I waved him into the room.

"The Committee has decided that Senator Gregor needs special protection. His vote is important to the Defense Department and the ongoing war against terrorism. That makes him a good target for extremists who are against the war. In fact, it may be worth hiring an Assassin to send a message to other senators aligned with Gregor." He paused to look at me. "No one believed a woman could survive the five challenges, because they couldn't compete against a man's strength, size, and natural aggressiveness. I believe that assessment is correct. In my opinion, you survived because you chose to exploit their weaknesses. You are well named, Lynn. Report to Senator Gregor's office tomorrow. Gregor is another asshole, so tact will be required. But take no nonsense from him. You're a Kazak."

***

The Senate building was big and confusing. After getting by several checkpoints and stopping dozens of people for directions, I finally arrived at his office. Inside the room were several desks with people busily working. A receptionist looked up as I entered.

"May I help you, Miss... ?" she asked with a pleasant smile on her young face.

"Yes, I'm Kazak Lynn. I believe Senator Gregor is expecting me," I said, trying to match her friendly smile, although I was years out of practice. She sat there with her mouth open.

"You can't be. All Kazaks are male. If you don't leave, I'll call security." Her smile had disappeared to be replaced by a sneer. Now several of the people in the office were looking at me.

I turned, found the senator's door, opened it, and introduced myself.

"Senator Gregor, I am Lynn, the Kazak assigned to protect you."

He had the nerve to laugh. "I'll have to talk to Mr. Witton. I want a real Kazak. You're a woman, who couldn't win a fight with
me
."

"Please call Mr. Witton, before you try to fight me," I said quietly. Witton was right. This assignment would require tact. Gregor elected to call security instead. Within minutes, three men came running into the room with guns drawn.

"Do you want me to kill them, send them to the hospital, or tell Mr. Witton that you don't require protection?" I debated whether to give a demonstration or just leave. I finally decided a demonstration would be best.

The guards were confused when they saw a young woman with no weapon, but they still had their guns sort of pointing in my direction. I grabbed the closest one's gun hand, twisted, and pushed him into the one behind him, while kicking the third one's gun from his hand. Before he could recover, I swept his feet from under him. The one I had pushed hit the man behind him. As he tried to raise his gun, I grabbed his wrist, twisted, and snatched the gun from his hand. To his credit, he didn't scream, although I know it must have hurt. For effect, I stepped back and leaned against the wall with the guard's gun in my hand.

"That was fun. Imagine if I were in a bad mood, Senator Gregor." I smiled. I think my smile was better this time, as I had enjoyed the exercise. I walked over and laid the gun on his desk. "Now if you want to call Mr. Witton, you can; however, he did mention that he had no more Kazaks available.

Gregor stared open-mouthed at me, then at the gun. I noticed that one of the guards was looking at the gun on the floor and appeared to be debating a try for it. I turned and looked directly at him.

"Please don't. My good mood is over."

He paled. The senator finally got his voice back.

"You can stay, until I can talk to Mr. Witton," he said somewhat reluctantly and waved the guards out. They looked at me before reaching for their guns. I nodded. When they left, I walked over to a chair in the corner and sat.

***

I sat in Senator Gregor's office reviewing the building floor plan for the hundredth time. I thought it would be nice to know where I was going just in case
...
well, just in case. Not like I wasn't paying attention to all the dangerous things that weren't happening. Unlike some people, who can get so wrapped up in what they're reading that they can't hear anything around them, I'm conscious of every noise. For the fun of it, every now and then I would look up to check that the senator was still alive. Yes, I was bored. The only excitement happened when one of the senator's staffers came in to deliver something, like coffee. The most recent visitor obviously intended to return, or had been born in a barn, because he left the door ajar.