The Kazak Guardians (23 page)

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Authors: C. R. Daems

Tags: #Science Fiction

BOOK: The Kazak Guardians
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Ann nodded and put her head in her hands. "I've the mother of all headaches. Let me shower, and I'll see about replacements. Are we going to that dinner for you tonight?"

"No, Mithra and I may go on a date," I said while logging on to the Internet. While Ann made her calls, I researched the white supremacy blogs and sites. It was easy to find the location of their headquarters. They wanted people to know who they were and how to find them. I called Mithra and arranged for a meeting. After a shower and coffee, Ann spent the next hour on the phone.

"Robert was released this morning and is going to the plane. He wants to stay on the detail. He said it was the tour of a lifetime. Since his injury was only a flesh wound, I've decided to let him. Gordon will live, although it will be a couple of weeks before he'll be released from the hospital. I've arranged for three more guards. People I know and trust. What now?"

"You're going to be my alibi tonight. We are going to stay in and watch TV."

"I don't want to know. I can read about it in the newspaper tomorrow."

***

I met Mithra outside the hotel dressed in normal clothes, which made us just another couple of tourists wandering the streets. The supremacists had a meeting hall about four miles away. We took a taxi to a tourist cafe about a mile from their hall and walked the rest of the way. When we entered the meeting hall, ten to twelve men were ranting about three of their members being killed. Two looked as if they had been wounded: one supported himself on crunches and the other had his arm in a sling.

"What do you two want? This is a private club." A broad, elderly man glared at us. He didn't look like a supremacist except for the swastika armband over the sleeve of a military-looking black jacket.

"You," Mithra said and we began firing. He took the left side of the room, and I the right. The ones reaching for weapons died first and the others afterward. It was neither sporting nor fun, just something that needed doing. Maybe it would make the rest of our stay peaceful. We walked back to the cafe and caught another cab. I had the cabby drop me off a few blocks from the hotel and Mithra continued on. I let myself in around one a.m. and found Ann sitting up drinking coffee and listening to the news.

"It appears the party you went to got out of hand, but then I guess you left early." She smiled, although I thought she'd tried not to. I suspected she wanted retribution for Gordon and Robert, but her conscience felt it was wrong. "You've given me another headache."

***

The police never questioned us the next day, although I imagined they questioned everyone who might know anything about our activities the previous night. The dinner that I canceled had been rescheduled for that night. I sat through the political speeches, repeated my women's rights speech, and answered questions for the media. Only a limited number of journalists were allowed in from the local newspapers, which delighted those admitted and made them especially polite. They would have a scoop and could sell it to the national news.

"What do you think of America now?" asked one reporter.

"There are extremists in every country. At least here, your government does not encourage or support it."

"Were you hurt, afraid?" a female reporter asked.

"Your security people risked their lives to protect me. Their bravery saved me. Afraid, of course, but violence is not new to me. We have more than our share of extremists." The questions went on for another hour.

When we got back to the hotel, Ann turned to me and smiled. "You're good. You almost have me believing I'm guarding a woman activist from an undisclosed Arabic country."

"You are."

We visited several more jazz clubs and had another dinner without any incidents other than a few whispered remarks. We left five days later. Next stop, Sedona and the Grand Canyon.

***

Ann Marie had booked us into the Amara Resort Hotel: a suite for me and standard rooms for everyone else. I wondered how Mithra felt about my special treatment and having to room with Lauro. We were met by a representative of Senator Cabet, who invited me to a dinner three nights hence at the JW Marriott Desert Ridge Resort in Phoenix. Ann informed him that the white supremacists might be a problem, based on what happened in New Orleans. He assured me that security would be extraordinarily tight, since the senator would be there.

The first day we rented a helicopter and were treated to a bird's-eye view of Desert View Point, the Zuni Corridor, the Unkar Delta, the lush forests of the North Rim, and the Dragon Corridor. It was spectacular. The second day we were flown to Havasu Canyon and spent a leisurely day at the world-famous Havasu Falls. I knew the trip was to protect Lauro, but it provided the trip of a lifetime for me. I was having far too much fun. The next afternoon we flew to the Marriott for dinner. I again wore a black Muznah tunic with Aari embroidery,
hijab
, and
niqab
. The senator and two dark-suited men met us in the lobby.

" Wecome...
Marhaban...
Layyah Al-Najjar," a tall well-dressed man said with a tolerable accent. "I'm Senator Cabet."

"
Assalamu alaikum wa rahmatullah
, peace be upon you and God's blessings, Senator Cabet." I bowed my head slightly. "Layyah, please."

"Layyah, I have invited several influential people to hear you tonight. I hope you don't mind." He smiled. I would expect no less from a senator running for re-election. Just then my small hand-held computer announced that it was time for prayers. Ann nudged my arm.

"Layyah, it is time for
Asr
."

"Senator, do you have some place private for me? We Muslims believe in one God as you do; however, five times a day we pray to remind us of God's beneficence and to seek His guidance and forgiveness. It is time for
Asr
, the afternoon prayer."

"Err
...
Yes." He turned to one of the men behind him. "Henry, can you find Layyah an empty room?"

Henry rushed down the hall and returned shortly. "Miss Layyah, if you would follow me, please."

I followed him with Ann next to me, and Mithra, Lauro, Sammie, and a new man, Peter, following. Robert and the other new man, Bradley, had remained at the plane. Ann Marie was off somewhere seeing the sights.

When I reached the room, I entered with Ann and Mithra; the others remained outside. I took the prayer rug from Ann and stepped on it.

"Why, Layyah? We're alone," Ann asked.

"I'm Muslim and it calms me."

"She lives in a world of her own, Ann. She's Layyah," Mithra said with a shrug.

Ten minutes later, we emerged. Henry had waited, and he escorted us into a large room set up for dining. There were at least sixty people in the room. Ann had informed Cabet's aid that the guests had to understand that no pictures were allowed without my permission. As we entered, Cabet rose and walked over to me.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to introduce Layyah al-Najjar." There was polite applause, and a camera flashed twice.

Ann stepped in front of me as Sammie and Peter went down to the young man who had snapped the pictures.

"Sir, may I have that camera?" Sammie asked and held out his hand.

"No, you may not," the young man laughed.

"You were informed there were to be no pictures taken without permission. The camera please."

"You have no authority to stop me from taking pictures." He was still smiling. "So run along."

"Sir, you are under arrest for endangering the life of a guest of the United States government. You have the right to remain
-
" Sammie began as Peter moved to put cuffs on the man's wrists.

"Wait!" He handed the camera to Sammie, who spent a minute pressing buttons and then handed it back to the man.

"Thank you for your cooperation, sir."

Ann raised her hands to draw the attention of those in the room. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm the head of Miss Layyah's security team. The bad news first. There are to be no pictures without her approval. We will confiscate any cameras with pictures that she did not approve. You must understand that the lives of her children, parents, and friends could be jeopardized-"

"We already know her name!" the same young man shouted. He was smiling again.

"I guess we weren't smart enough at the State Department to figure that out. You still can't take pictures." Ann turned her attention away from him. "The good news is that Miss Layyah will allow photographs with you alone or with your friends. She just requests that you ask first. I thank you for your cooperation." Ann moved back against the wall.

Cabet took my arm and walked me to the front of the room, to a long elevated table with five chairs and a podium. Three chairs were already occupied by a pleasant-looking middle-aged woman, an older man with long graying hair, and a middle-aged man with wavy brown hair. The senator waved me to the seat next to the woman and stood behind the podium.

"Seated to my right is Samuel Garrett, our fourth district representative. Next to

him is Margret Weller of the Arizona chapter of NOW, the National Organization for Women. On my left is Jeremy Wills, head of the Department of Economic Security, and of course, Miss Layyah, representing the Muslim women's rights movement." Cabet spent the next twenty minutes speaking about the Muslim countries where women are discriminated against, abused, and treated as second-class citizens. When he finished, I felt that he really believed what he had said, and it was not just another political speech. Weller spoke next about violence against women here and abroad and what NOW was doing to combat the problem. Wills talked about the roots of such violence and the need to create stronger families. Then it was my turn.

"Let me start by inviting anyone that wishes to take photographs to do so now." Suddenly the room lit up like a fireworks display. It took a minute before my eyes adjusted. "As you have heard, I am a trouble maker in the Muslim world, seeking a woman's right to choose-"

"Then why are you dressed like a Muslim?" the same young man shouted. Sammie began to move toward him, until I shook my head.

"You apparently weren't listening. I said I was for a woman's right to choose. You apparently believe I must dress the way
you
believe I should. The Taliban believe the same as you
...
"

After my speech I permitted pictures to be taken of me with a variety of people. We left shortly afterward.

"I think you hurt that young man's feelings. You're beginning to make me believe you are Layyah from a Muslim country. They should pay the State Department to keep you here," Ann said after we had entered my suite.

"I agree," Ann Marie interjected." If you keep this up, you're going to have militant Muslims in the U.S. as well as white supremacist groups trying to kill you."

Ann Marie had a point. I had thought this an easy diversion to avoid a confrontation with the Assassins; however, I seemed to have found new killers. I wouldn't mind them trying to kill me, if it weren't for the fact that my security detail and Lauro, whom I was supposed to be protecting, were caught in the middle. We departed the next morning for Las Vegas.

***

That stop was much the same as the others. The Wynn hotel treated us like high rollers, although as a Muslim I didn't gamble. From their perspective it didn't matter since my presence attracted customers. I kept Mithra and Lauro out of sight because of all the cameras, none of which I could control. I toured some of the large casinos, although I already knew each one of them from my time living there. Of course, it was a little different being treated like royalty rather than a waitress. My only regret was that I couldn't visit Gabe and Master Jianyu. A week later, we were off to Los Angeles and Universal Studios.

***

By then, I was getting tired of politicians, speeches, and Lauro, who thought he was with us to have fun. Conversely, I was enjoying being a Muslim celebrity. It was definitely different from being a Kazak.

"Well, Layyah, how do you like being the guest of the State Department?" Ann asked, reclining in one of the comfy leather chairs in my deluxe executive suite. Ann Marie had booked us into the Four Seasons Hotel in Beverly Hills. Only Ann, Ann Marie, Lauro, and Mithra were present.

"It's definitely different from being a Kazak. I'm being treated like royalty, although all these political dinners and speeches are tiring. But I've the best travel agent in the world. The accommodations have been fantastic. Just look at this room and the view. If I were Witton, I'd double your salary, Ann Marie."

"You could mention that to him," Ann Marie said with a smile. I imagined he already paid her very well.

"And being Muslim is interesting."

"And getting less boring every day," Ann interjected. "What do you think about our stay in Los Angeles?"

"More people, more chances of trouble. We seem to have avoided the Assassins and substituted white supremacists, and I wouldn't doubt a few Muslim fanatics."

"Layyah, you have two dinner engagements while you're here. The first is the day after tomorrow and the other four days from now. The first dinner is with politicians and the second with women activists. The latter may be a little hostile, with you dressed as a Muslim in
hijab
and
niqab
. And a woman, dressed in a
hijab
, caught me in the lobby and asked if you would talk to a group of Muslim women. Should I tell her you're busy? After all, you're just pretending to be a Muslim."

"I'd rather you tell the politicians and women activists I'm too busy. Tell the woman I would be glad to speak to them. It needs to be in a large room, not someone's house."

"Are you sure?" Ann asked. I knew the reason for her apprehension.

"Yes. I'm beginning to feel like a Muslim woman seeding change. I even get the feeling I might be succeeding. Ann, you have good reason to be concerned for your team. If you'd like, you could look after Lauro and I'll take Mithra. He's bored."

"Yes, I'm concerned for my team and you. You're the one keeping Lauro alive. You're crazy, but we'll go. I actually agree with you. I think you're changing minds."

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