The Kazak Guardians (26 page)

I splurged on a small suite at the Loews Miami Beach Hotel and spent most of the afternoon in the luxury spa. I indulged in a massage, spent a half an hour in the sauna, and had my hair shampooed. The next morning I boarded the plane for Colorado.

***

Only a few minutes after we landed in Denver, Clare came aboard.

"Well, Kathryn, how's she doing?"

"She sitting up and taking nourishment. It's a good sign." She shrugged. Clare walked back and stood looking down at me, inspecting me like a strange kind of bug.

"It looks like you got hit with something in the shoulder and in the arm, and I'll bet it wasn't paintballs." She stood shaking her head. After a few minutes, she leaned over and kissed me on the cheek before she sat down across from me. "I guess I should be used to seeing my out-of-control sister returning home to recover from untold injuries. You need a keeper."

Clare drove me back to her condo, since the pilots required a night's rest-or at least I hoped they got some rest. When I entered the unit, I stood and looked around. It was a burnt-out mess, the last time I had seen it. Today it looked new and eclectic. The living room was a warm combination of beiges. The kitchen had Brazilian cherry cabinets, stainless steel appliances, and granite counter tops. The spare bedroom, which I considered mine, contained a queen-sized bed with Santos mahogany matching furniture and light tan walls. Clare had my kind of taste.

"Do you like your room?"

"It's lovely." I felt like crying.
Your room
. I felt like I was home. "I'm going to miss this when you get married."

"You'll always have a room that is yours even if I have a parcel of kids." Clare had cooked a delicious, old-fashioned peasant's stew. Full and satisfied, we sat on the couch drinking coffee and gorging on a caramel custard dessert.

"Time for two stories," I said as I sat back at peace with the world. "The first one is a Pulitzer Prize story you can never repeat to anyone without my permission. It would undo a lot of good and could some day cause my death. The second is a continuation of the first but must be kept separate. You can interview me for that one. It started when I and another Kazak were assigned to
...
"

Clare was on an emotional rollercoaster for the next two hours. She posed question after question as she pulled every last detail out of me, between gasps and murmuring
Oh my God
,
You didn't
,
You're crazy
, and
I wish I had been there to see that
. She alternated between laughing until her stomach hurt and crying until her eyes were red.

We left the next morning for Kauai where Ann Marie had booked me premium ocean reservations at the Kauai Condos. The two-bedroom unit had stunning panoramic ocean views, and we could step off our private lanai onto the beach only several feet away.

"It's glorious, Lynn. How do you find these places?" Clare asked as we sat on the lanai watching silver waves, lit from the full moon, gently lapping at the sand. The wicker furniture with floral-design cushions gave the lanai a Tahitian feel rather than a five-star condo which it was. We had just returned from the Tuesday night Sea Luau. It had been a wonderful evening, feasting on traditional Hawaiian foods and watching Hawaiian, Tahitian, and Fire Knife dances. Content, we sat on one of the two couches, drinking Mai Tais.

"I don't. If I did, we'd probably be staying in some Motel 6 ten miles from the beach. I let Ann Marie make the reservations. You should have seen the suites she booked for Layyah. Places reserved for the rich and famous."

"I wouldn't care so long as you were there." She reached over and gently pulled me to her. "I love you, Lynn. I can't help it." She kissed me on the lips gently. I put my arm around her and returned the kiss. The fact that I had never thought of dating a woman had nothing to do with my lack of dating. I didn't hate men, but I couldn't stand the thought of sex with them. Too much had happened during my early years. Sitting with Clare in my arms felt right. I had known for a long time that I loved her. Now I understood how much. We lay there gently exploring each other's bodies as we stripped.

"I was afraid of ruining our friendship, Lynn. I've stopped dating since La Paz. It's strange. I've never been attracted to women, but I knew I loved you more than I could love anyone else." She buried her head in my chest, awaiting my response.

"I'm glad you had the nerve to take that first step. It was a giant leap of faith. Like you, I never thought of having sex with a woman, but it feels right with you, because it's more than the act of sex. It's a warm and safe feeling." Content, we fell asleep in each other's arms.

Watching Clare the next morning, I knew neither she nor I had any regrets. She glowed with happiness. I knew I did as well.

***

We spent a wonderful two weeks in Kauai getting to know each other, which was surprising. I had thought I knew everything there was to know about Clare. But like all vacations, the two weeks came to an end and Clare had to get back to work. We flew back to Denver, where I give Clare her interview and stayed a few more days. Since Witton hadn't called, I called him.

"Well, boss, have I been retired or fired?"

"No. I was just about to call you. The Committee has given you an assignment. I'll expect you back the day after tomorrow." The phone went dead. I wondered what the assignment was for about a minute. I didn't really care. Any assignment would do.

"Well, Clare, Witton is calling me back. I will miss you, but I have to admit I love my life as a Kazak." The hard truth.

"I know, my love, and I accept it. I imagine this is how it would be to be married to a sailor. On second thought, more like a combat Marine. So long as we get time together whenever we can, I'll be content."

"I promise. Every minute Witton will allow. I have to admit, he's been pretty good about giving me time."

"When you're all shot up and can't work." Clare scowled. We spent most of the night snacking and talking. I realized we had a deep love, which didn't depend on sex. Although I had to admit the closeness of her warm body and the tingling feel of her touch was wonderful.

"You look like you had a good vacation. Are you ready to get back to work?"

"You know better than anyone else, I enjoy my life as a Kazak and wouldn't trade it for anything. I've learned that time with Clare and my few friends is necessary. If I hadn't discovered that, I don't believe that I would have the same healthy attitude or blend in as well as I do now."

"I know. That has been the one concern I've had about you. Besides aggravating your clients with your rules, you're too much of a loner. Although that hasn't been a problem in the past, I believe it would've been sooner or later. Most Kazaks have their own rules but are willing to compromise a little with each client. You don't. Although it shouldn't work, it does and has proven beneficial. Most Kazak clients come away pleased with the Kazak's performance but don't feel they owe them anything. You get offers to use their private planes. The Committee and I find that an interesting dichotomy." He sat back and took a sip of coffee, looking like he was considering his next words, or maybe thinking about what he had just said.

"The Committee, in their infinite or misguided wisdom, has decided you should guard Father Joseph, a Catholic Priest. That should be a real test of his faith," Witton said with a grin.

"He should understand rules better than most," I said with a sharp nod.

Witton shook his head. "He's considered an extremely important person in the Las Vegas community. He's been receiving death threats since he gave a series of seminars on immigration and the rich cultures immigrants bring to America, just as the Europeans did when we were a fledgling country. He didn't take the threats too seriously as he has had other menacing letters and emails over the years and nothing of consequence came of them. A few instances of graffiti and eggs thrown on the church walls, and the usual blogs misquoting or taking things he said out of context." Witton stopped for a sip of coffee.

I sat wondering why the Committee had picked me. Maybe they thought it would mellow me. If so, they should worry about how I'd change the priest.

Witton gave me a long look before continuing. "However, a few days ago, someone shot at him and wounded him in the arm. Although supremacist groups are logical choices, it may just be an angry loner. The archbishop wanted to hire several bodyguards, but Father Joseph rejected the suggestion, claiming several men following him around would be disruptive and would diminish God's divine will. After a long talk with the archbishop, he has agreed to one Kazak. He's expecting you tomorrow. A car will be there to pick you up at McCarran Airport and drive you to the Saint Augustine Church where Father Joseph will be waiting for you."

"Me, or just a Kazak?"

"Since he didn't stipulate sex, we thought it best to ignore it."

"He won't be the first one to be upset with your choice. I assume our plane will be available." Actually, I was beginning to think of it as
my
plane.

"Tomorrow morning at eight."

***

I arrived at McCarran just after noon. When I exited the plane, a man dressed in Dockers and an open-necked blue shirt stood with a sign reading
Father Joseph.

"Good morning
...
" I said, waiting for a name.

"Gary. Can I help you?"

"I'm Kazak Lynn. I'd imagine you're here to drive me to see Father Joseph?" Of course, he'd expected a male. But then, life's full of little surprises.

"You're a woman!" His voice rose to a squeak.

"You're very astute, Gary. Now can we go?"

"You're supposed to be a man. You can't be a woman," he said defensively.

"I'm a woman, Gary; therefore, I can't be a man." I held up my hand. "I'm sorry. It was too good to resist. Yes, I'm a female Kazak, and I'm here to see Father Joseph. Since his life is in danger, we shouldn't delay any longer than we have to." I followed in his hesitant wake as he left the terminal. All the while, he kept trying to sneak looks at me. It was a wonder he didn't trip and hurt himself. He stayed quiet during the drive to the church. He was probably wondering if he had picked up the wrong person and how he was going to explain it to Father Joseph.

We entered a large parking lot and stopped in front of a long, single-story building with several doors, which looked like they may be separate classrooms. When we entered, an elderly woman sat at a small wooden desk, looking at an old computer monitor. After Gary closed the door without saying anything, she looked up and smiled.

"Can I help you, Miss?"

"I'd like to see Father Joseph."

"Do you have an appointment? Father is a very busy man." She smiled.

"Yes, tell him the Kazak is here."

"You can't be!" She frowned and shook her head. I decided to avoid the argument. I looked around and located a door I thought might be his office, knocked, and walked in. The man behind the desk looked up rather calmly, considering I had just barged in unannounced. Father Joseph was younger than I had imagined. He appeared to be in his early thirties judging by his full head of dark brown hair and smooth, youthful tanned skin. His face was somewhat round with a short nose, full lips, and bright hazel eyes.

"Can I help you, young lady? You seem to be in a hurry."

"I'm Kazak Lynn. I believe you're expecting me, although the lady at the desk didn't seem to know that." I smiled to conceal my obvious frustration. Not at Gary or the lady at the desk-at Witton.

"Yes. Of course, this isn't acceptable. I'm sorry."

"You can tell the bishop I'm unacceptable, and I'll leave. I don't discriminate."

"I'll call Witton and have you replaced. I'm sorry you think it's discrimination," he said quietly as if in thought.

"You could have your bishop replaced easier, and yes, it's discrimination. You're trying to rationalize it away."

"You obviously know what Witton will say and that the bishop won't capitulate. Alright, you win; however, there are sacraments which you won't be allowed to attend." He gave me a touche.

"Father, do you have rules you live your life by?" Of course he did, more than most.

"Of course. Doesn't everyone?"

"I doubt they are the same as yours. It's not important. I also have rules, which I am unwilling to compromise. This seems reasonable, since I'm willing to risk my life to protect you. Besides, I'm a Kazak and would be very upset if I let anyone hurt you."

"How do you intend to avoid that happening?"

"How many years did it take you to become a priest?"

"I already had a college degree, so it only took five years. How is that relevant?"

"It took me nine years to become a Kazak. I've had seven assignments, since I graduated. Only the first one died. Not knowing any better, I let him treat me like a puppy. Sit, stay, lie down, fetch. Since then, I tell people if they want a puppy, they should buy one."

"How did he die?" He leaned forward, obviously interested in my answer.

"I let him go into a men's room without me."

"You expected to enter a men's room!"

"If it has two entrances or a window, I go in. Tell me, Father, did God create men and women?"

"Of course. But-"

"I wonder if He thought our bodies a source of embarrassment. I wonder if He would want one of his advocates to die to avoid embarrassment." I thought it funny, or maybe scary, that I said things without thinking that cut to the heart of the matter.

He remained quiet for several minutes, staring past me like I wasn't there. Eventually, his eyes regained focus and he snorted. "What must I do to comply with your 'rules'?"

"Ignore me." Ironically, all my rules came down to that simple statement.

"That sounds like it might be difficult to do
...
"

"Lynn," I replied.

"I thought Kazaks had other names, or is it titles?" He had relaxed back in his seat.

"At graduation, we are given a last name based on our inherent ability. We also have an honorary title given for three or more Assassin kills."