Kazak Guardians: Book III: Megan (Kazak Guardians Series 3)

by C. R. Daems

  "What about you, Megan?"

  "I think Jody is a living saint." I bowed in her direction.

  "Who you owe big time," Witton said.

  I nodded agreement.

  "Thank you, Jody," Witton said. "I believe Megan is the right choice for this assignment. The client is Senator Robert Burns. Because his daughter has a congenital heart disease, he used his position on several health-related subcommittees to get the FDA to issue a Humanitarian Device Exemption for a new pulmonary heart valve. Since then, doctors have inserted fifty such devices. Unfortunately there have been five deaths. An extensive investigation by the FDA has concluded the deaths were not related to the new device. That hasn't stopped several lawsuits which claim they have experts who disagree. The real problem is that two of the children who died are related in some way to persons connected with organized crime, which may or may not be connected with Senator Burns getting emails and letters threatening to kill his ten-year-old daughter."

  "An eye for an eye," Jody said quietly as if remembering something in her past. "That was the prevailing philosophy where I grew up."

  "Call Cohn and Cohn." I snorted in amusement. "A renowned law firm on the speed dial of everyone in my neighborhood. They were the solution to most perceived problems. The pain and loss are the same in both instances, but not the source for justice."

  "Good point, Megan. Lawsuits have been filed, except they aren't against the senator or FDA, but the manufacturer of the device. But because some of the children's relatives are connected to organized crime, we have to assume the eye-for-an-eye scenario may be imminent, in which case professionals would be involved."

  "What about the senator and his wife and any other children?" I asked.

  "The senator has two grown children from a previous marriage, but they live in other states and aren't considered at risk, nor is the senator or his wife. The emails were very specific, targeting his daughter as the reason for approving the device—a daughter for a daughter."

  "That sounds exciting. I assume the girl is going to school, to medical appointments, and is in general active."

  "Yes, the girl will be starting school in a few weeks, so she will be active and that will make it extremely difficult to protect her. Her father must decide whether he wants normal FBI security or Kazak security or both. I would hate to disrupt her life, but if he decides he wants a Kazak, you set the rules."

  "Where do I meet him?"

  "He's expecting you tonight. The girl is currently with her mother at the senator's D.C. condo. His daughter's name is Lexi."

  "Sounds like an exciting assignment for you," I said with a deadpan expression.

  "For me?" Witton frowned with his coffee cup stopping halfway to his lips.

  "Yes. I imagine you'll be getting multiple calls every day for the first week or two. 'I want her replaced.' 'Can she really do that?' 'I want her arrested.' 'The woman's a maniac,' etcetera," I said as I stood to go.

  Witton snorted. "I wouldn't change places with you, Megan. I expect a ten-year-old kid may be a greater challenge than the criminals out to kill her."

  * * *

  "Megan, let me know when you want to leave and I'll have a taxi ready," Ann Marie said as I exited Witton's office with Jody.

  "I'd like to leave as soon as I can get my bag together. I need to go shopping."

  "Party clothes?" Ann Marie quipped.

  "Teenager clothes. I'd need to stop at one of the stores popular with the younger generation. Guarding a preadolescent girl isn't going to be the same as guarding a senator.

  * * *

  The cab waited as I spent several hours shopping at the Fashion Centre at Pentagon City. Most of the time was spent finding the stores as none of them were close together. I could have spent a week there but limited myself to Guess, the GAP, J.C. Crew, and Forever 21. There I purchased some casual wear: baggy jeans, shirts, running shoes, and a denim jacket. By the time the cabbie found the senator's complex, a five-story red brick building, I was relaxed and ready for my next adventure.

  A clean-cut young man in a dark blue suit was waiting as I exited the elevator. He smiled when he saw me.

  "Kazak Megan, Special Agent Timothy Matthew. I'm in charge of Senator Burns's detail. I thought I'd accompany you to see the senator since I'd like to be there when you meet him so that I'll understand the arrangement."

  "Megan," I said, shaking his extended hand. "Are you assigned to the senator or to the family?"

  "I have a team of six assigned to provide the senator and his family protection because of the threatening emails. Hopefully they are just rants, but two of the kids who died have some nasty relatives with mob and gang connections." He gave me a once over before continuing. "I've heard rumors and had a memo from the director ... you're not FBI ..." He left the real question open: Why are you different?

  I could understand his confusion. Our rules of engagement are…different because I have immunity. Consequently I have fewer reasons to hesitate.

  "Would you shoot any faster than we would?" he asked while appraising me as if the answer could be deduced from my appearance or expression.

  "The Kazak training emphasizes intuitive responses. So where you would hesitate if you weren't sure, I wouldn't—better the client lives—which is the reason for the immunity."

  He shook his head. "Not sure I'd want that responsibility." He lapsed into silence as he led me down the hall to the last door, number 309.

  The senator stays here when he is in DC. It's a twelve hundred square-foot condo. Because of the recent emails, he has his wife and daughter here. I always have one man on duty in the hallway and one with any family member when they go out," he said as he nodded to the man sitting near the door.

  "Gary, this is the Kazak Megan."

  Gary waved but stayed seated. Timothy then proceeded to knock. A short while later a silver-haired man in his fifties answered the door. His eyes locked onto me.

  "Senator Burns, this is Kazak Megan."

  Silence followed as Burns seemed to be evaluating me against some unknown criteria. "A woman Kazak would be best for my daughter, but..."

  "Assassins and I won't be arm wrestling or boxing, Senator Burns."

  "I guess not. Come in, Kazak Megan, and I'll introduce you to my wife and daughter." He stepped aside so I could enter.

  Timothy followed me and closed the door behind us. The small foyer opened into a large open area with a dining table with four chairs off to my left and a living area straight ahead, ending in a wall of windows looking into the city. A three-section couch faced the wall on the left, which had a fifty-something inch television hanging on the wall. A large square coffee table sat a few feet in front of the couch. A two-section couch sat to the left of the table and a leather lounge to the right. The living and dining rooms were carpeted with a light tan rug. A thirty-something woman sat on the three-section couch and a young girl on the two-section one. The woman rose as we entered.

  "Kazak Megan, this is my wife. Darling, this is the Kazak they assigned," Burns said. Mrs. Burns was a five-foot six shapely blonde who looked as though she worked out regularly.

  "Nice to meet you, Kazak Megan. What do you do that the other FBI agents don't?" She asked, getting straight to her concern—how do you provide us additional safety?

  "Megan will do. I follow the Lynn Protocol, which is invasive, and therefore only worth the inconvenience when the threat appears real and likely to come from professional Assassins," I said, preferring to get the rules straight early on. "The FBI tries not to inconvenience you, and as a result will not always be in the ideal position to protect you. I, on the other hand, will not hesitate to inconvenience you if I feel it’s necessary to protect you."

  "I don't understand," the senator said, frowning.

  "It varies, depending upon your activities but, in general, if your daughter turns her head at any time she will be able to see me. Right now she can see me but not the FBI agent in the hallway."

  "You're
going to be in the room with us?" Mrs. Burns asked, sounding incredulous.

  "Only if your daughter is in the room," I said, trying not to show my amusement.

  "What if that is unacceptable?" the senator asked in an authoritative tone meant to intimidate.

  "Then I leave." I held up one hand to stop any knee-jerk response. "I cannot protect your daughter if I can't see her. If you believe the threat is real and might involve a professional assassin, then the additional protection I provide should outweigh the inconvenience. The decision is yours but if you want me to stay, the protocol is nonnegotiable."

  "How are they going to get past the agent in the hallway?" Mrs. Burns asked, sounding smug.

  "Shoot him," Lexi said, looking up from her tablet. "But why can't he shoot you next?"

  "Very good, Lexi. The man in the hallway sees people coming and going all day, so when someone steps out of the elevator he can't assume it’s an Assassin. The Assassin, however, knows an agent is in the hallway and steps out ready to shoot. But if someone breaks in the door or shoots the lock, I'll be ready when he enters."

  "All the FBI agents are nice, but I think Megan's right. I'm scared. If nothing else, she'll make me feel safer," Lexi said with her eyes locked on her father. She had him wrapped around her little finger, judging by the change in his expression and his nod.

  "All right, Kazak Megan. Who takes the next shift?"

  "It's me until the issue is settled. I'll sleep in the lounge chair. I need to be able to see Lexi's bedroom door and the door to your apartment," I said before he could ask where I'd sleep.

  "Seven days a week?" Mrs. Burns asked.

  I nodded. "Lexi, would you show me your room, please?" I asked, needing to see if it had windows and where the room was located relative to the entrance. She rose and walked through the dining area and turned right into a narrow hallway.

  "That's my bathroom," she said, pointing to the left, "and this is my bedroom." She walked into the room to her right. It was a medium-size room with a double bed, nightstand, dresser, and large double window. The drapes were lightweight, which meant someone on the street could see shadows under the right conditions.

  "How long will you staying in DC?" I knew the senator represented Idaho but wasn't sure where the family resided when he wasn't in D.C.

  "A week or so. I need to get back for school." She stood evaluating me and probably trying to imagine me tailing her to school and her friends' reactions.

  "You'll need new drapes."

  "Why?" she asked, staring at the drapes like they had the answer.

  "Because at night with a lamp on, someone on the street will be able to see your shadow through these," I said, hating to scare her but better she knew the truth. "It's probably not necessary, but why take chances?"

  She frowned and her eyes darted to the windows. Then she nodded. "Timothy didn't say anything about the windows."

  "Timothy and I worry about different things. I'm your personal security, therefore I only worry about your safety. It is unlikely anyone will shoot at you through the window, but why tempt them by giving them something to shoot at?"

  I could see her eyes turn misty as the reality of the threat sank in.

  I sat down on the corner of the bed and patted it for her to come and sit. "Lexi, you can call me Megan. My job is to keep you safe. I will do that by staying close to you at all times. That will mean anyone who wants to hurt you will have to get me out of the way first. And I'm not easy to get out of the way."

  "But you're only a girl...woman," Lexi said, as if that proved her concern.

  "Believe me, they didn't send a puppy to guard you. They sent a junkyard pit bull." I grinned.

  A smile appeared on her little round face. She jumped off the bed and headed for the living room. "Dad, Megan says I need heavier drapes for my windows so I don't tempt someone to shoot at me."

  "Are you an idiot, woman? You're scaring her!" Burns shouted.

  "I'm doing my best to keep her alive. If she thinks this is a game, she will be careless and make it harder for me to protect her. If she understands the threat is real, she will be more cautious and far less likely to get hurt. The people we believe are threating her have sniper rifles, AK-47s, in addition to Glocks with expanded clips. Personally, I'd change all the drapes in all your rooms, because if I were them, I take a shot at the windows just to put you on edge."

  Burns and his wife glared at me as if I were a loose rattlesnake, then put their heads together and talked in a whisper.

  "I think you're right about my man in the hallway," Timothy said, leaning close. "Any suggestions?"

  "I think I'd get him a police shield. That way he would have something to hide behind while he exchanges shots with the Assassin. Might even give him an advantage."

  "Sounds like good advice. Thanks and good luck." He nodded toward the Burnses, turned, and left the apartment.

  In the end, the senator called his aide and arranged for thicker drapes to be installed the next day.

  "What now, Megan?" the senator asked with a scowl.

  "Everyone should go about their business. I'll be seen but not heard unless I feel you are putting Lexi in unnecessary danger. However, you must remember to include me in any arrangements that involve your daughter." I moved back against the dining room wall with a good view of the room and the entrance.

  A short time later the senator and his wife went into their bedroom and Lexi came to join me. She pulled out a chair and sat.

  "Why don't you ever sit?"

  "You wouldn't like your pit bull sleeping, would you?"

  She gave a small giggle then sobered. "I'm glad you're here because I'm scared, even though I pretend I'm not."

  "If you can keep the image of me—a pit bull—on a leash about the length of this room, you will be safe. Like a real pit bull, I will be watching everyone and everything so you don't have to."

  "Don't you get scared?"

  "I would if I thought about all the bad things that could happen, but I don't. I focus on you and the people and things happening around you. That way I have an advantage if a bad guy shows up. If I worried about all the bad things that could happen, I'd be distracted and they would have the advantage. Besides, that would take all the fun out of the job."

  "Fun?"

  "Yes. While protecting you, I'm going to learn about the real Lexi: her life, friends, enemies, likes, and dislikes."

  "You're crazy."

  "Maybe. Is it crazy to want to save good people from evil people?"

  She didn't answer, just sat looking off into the distance. After a while she got up and wandered into her bedroom. I followed and used a spare blanket to cover the window while she got ready for bed.

  "Goodnight, Megan," she said as she crawled into bed.

  "Goodnight, Lexi." When I entered the living room, the senator's wife was sitting on the couch, obviously waiting for me.

  "I had planned to stay here for a few weeks until Lexi's school is scheduled to start. Do you think it's safer in D.C. or Boise?"

  "The kind of people we are potentially dealing with will go wherever they need to in order to get your daughter, but I think they would stand out a bit more in Boise than D.C. That could put them at a disadvantage. I worry more about Lexi's activities. That will determine the extent of her vulnerability."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Routines are bad. It gives an Assassin a chance to prepare for an ambush. Your best defense is to ensure I know where Lexi is going in advance so I can prepare her and me." Privately, I thought it unfortunate. There was no real way to prepare in this case since the potential Assassins were opposites: gang members who tended to be impulsive and mobsters who tended to hire methodical killers.

  "Robert and I have decided I'll return as soon as he can make arrangements."

  "Thank you for letting me know. Maybe I can help." I dialed Witton's office.

  "Hi, Megan. Get fired already?" Ann Marie quipped.

  "I tried, but I mu
st be getting old. Would you see if I can get the company plane to fly Mrs. Burns and her daughter back to Idaho? They plan to return for school. Given the threat, that would be a safer mode of transit and Idaho an easier place to defend her—smaller population and fewer strangers."

  "I'll check and get back to you with Mr. Witton's answer."

  "Mrs. Burns, Witton's secretary will discuss using the company plane to fly you and Lexi home."

  "Thank you for the thought. You can call me Denise, Megan, at least in private. How is this going to...end?" she asked, looking away from me.

  "One or more of those men are going to make an attempt on your daughter's life. I'll kill them and the FBI will make a case against their known associates. That should change the anger from Senator Burns to me, and you can go on with your lives." I mentally crossed my fingers and said a small prayer to whoever might be listening to take pity on an innocent little girl.

  "You make it sound so simple." She rose and headed toward the bedroom. "Good night, Megan. I pray you're right."

  Me too, I mused. After blocking the door I had a wash and relieved myself, moved the lounge chair to watch the entrance, and settled down for the night.

  * * *

  The familiar sound of an automatic weapon had me up, gun drawn, and kneeling behind the chair with a direct line-of-sight to the front door. More gun fire, then silence.

  Just then Lexi appeared peeking around the corner, and seconds later the senator stood there with a gun.

  "Lexi," I said, "Go back into your bedroom. The shooter has an automatic weapon. There will be bullets flying everywhere. I'll come get you when it's safe."

  "Get out there and help!" the senator shouted.

  I ignored him.

  "Do you hear me?"

  "Yes. I hear you warning the gunmen outside to be careful—that another guard is inside," I said quietly. "Go back into your room, Senator, and let me do my job. If you want something to do, call nine-one-one."

  He did disappear into his bedroom, but I could hear his periodic rants.