C.R. Daems - Kazak 2 - The Unthinkable

by C. R. Daems

  I slowly moved to my left. There would be a gunfight in a minute and I hoped to keep any gang bullets away from the direction of the women. Jody and a few others seemed ready to attack the group. I shook my head no. Spider couldn't help grinning. He had misinterpreted my movements.

  "Look at da bitch, aaaaah-" he gurgled as blood spouted from around the knife in his throat. Wildman stood frozen, confused; however, Snake recovered quickly and his knife came flying towards me. It missed as I collapsed into a sitting snake-stance, drawing my Glock in the process. Two of the gang were now reaching for their guns. I shot the one with his gun visible, twice in the chest. He staggered backward, dropped the gun, and collapsed. I shot the second one in the chest before his gun cleared his pants. He stood there trying to raise his gun without success. I shot him again, driving him backward into the bleachers. Now Wildman had recovered and was charging with a knife. His face ugly and twisted like a gargoyle. The back of his head exploded with my next shot. At the same time, I heard three shots in rapid succession. They appeared to have hit Wildman as his head jerked backward from my bullet and then his body pushed forward like he had been slammed with something in his back. When he had moved towards me, he got between the shooter and me. As he fell towards me, I dove to the side, rolled, shot, rolled, and shot again. There had been only one gang member shooting. The other one was running towards the door. I had shot the shooter twice in the chest. The runner had just reached the door when I shot him three times in the back. I ejected my clip and jammed another one home as I surveyed the room.

  Snake lay in a pool of blood, clearly dead. The back of Wildman's head had a huge hole, and he had three bullet holes in his back. I walked over to the bleachers. One lay sprawled on the floor with two bullets in his chest. The force of the bullets had driven the other gang member into the bleachers. He had lay folded up between two rows of seats. Somehow, the boy at the door had managed to rise onto one knee. I shot him two more times, then walked back to my students.

  "Did anyone get hurt?" Only silence and open-mouth stares greeted me. I took out my Blackberry, hit "1" on the speed dial, and put it on speaker. Two rings later, "Yes?"

  "Hi, Boss. I wonder if you could take care of a small problem for me?"

  "What did you do, shoot one of your students?" I heard gasps from behind me.

  "I did terminate a few, but they were alive when they left. I had six gang bangers apply for admittance, they're not."

  "Give me an hour. By the way, Clare will be there tomorrow. We've given her permission to do a story on the program." The phone went dead.

  "What's going to happen to the program now, Master Lynn?" Carla asked. Several of the women looked concerned. The others appeared in shock. I guess they thought I was headed to jail then prison.

  "If you will all have a seat, we will have our normal critique. The subject is Kazak actions in defensive of their clients, or in this case, students."

  "But you were defending yourself," Lucy said. She was one of the girls I intended to reject eventually.

  "Jody, Megan, were you planning on interfering?"

  "Yes, we thought... but you shook you head no and we didn't know what to do."

  "Did anyone see me moving to my left?"

  "Yes, I thought you were trying to get away."

  "I was moving to get you out of the line of fire; otherwise, those wannabees would have been dead before they got to make their macho speeches. None of that is important. What is important is being aware of what is happening. Meditation is meant to help you calm your mind in cases like this so you can think clearly. We can start our session now while we wait for the police to get this mess cleaned up."

  "But-"

  "Now!" I folded into a meditation posture. Slowly, they followed. About an hour later, I heard the police sirens. Too late guys, the party over. I rose as a police lieutenant entered, followed by ten officers. And there is no coffee and donuts.

  "Are you Kazak Lynn?" he said while surveying the bodies. "That man at the door was repeatedly shot in the back. That's not self-defense. You're under arrest."

  I stepped forward, spun him around, and pulled him to me. My knife lay along his carotid artery. "He dies and anyone else that moves." I hit "1" on my speed dial.

  "What now?"

  "A police lieutenant wants to arrest me. I have a knife to his throat, and I'm in a bad mood."

  "Don't kill him, please. I'll have someone call him within the next five minutes. Lieutenant, what's your name?" Witton asked. I had never heard him nervous before.

  "Pella, Robert."

  "Pella, remain calm. She will kill you and whatever officers you have with you. Have your officers back off. I'll have someone in authority call you with the next few minutes." The phone went dead.

  "Move back. Wait for a negotiator. She's not going anywhere," Pella said feeling confident he would soon have help. As he spoke, one of the officers began shuffling to my left hoping to get a shot at me. Right now Pella was two inches taller and fifty pounds wider. A sniper would be hard pressed to get a shot at any part of me.

  "One more move and I'm going kill you, and that vest isn't going to help. Your big head is showing."

  He hesitated for a moment, but stopped when one of the officers reminded him I knew how to shoot by pointing to the gang bangers. Sometime later, phones starting ringing, including the lieutenant's. I let him get his police phone from his belt.

  "Lieutenant Pella, this is Commissioner Carlson. You are ordered to stand down. I am on my way to the Kazak facility. You will make no attempt to arrest or detain in any way the Kazak Lynn. Is this understood?"

  "Yes... sir." The phone went dead. I released him when I saw all the officers had returned their weapons to their holsters. Carlson's conversation must have been patched into all the police phones. The Commissioner arrived thirty minutes later. No one had moved, except the Lieutenant who had inched well out of my reach.

  "Commissioner, that bitch had a knife to my throat."

  "Pella, I'm informed you're lucky to be alive. You were told she's a Kazak and has diplomatic immunity. You had no authority to arrest her. You are entitled to see her tattoo-badge and get the number, and a statement if she wants to give you one."

  "She shot the man over there in the back several times-"

  "That doesn't change anything. Take some pictures and get this mess cleaned up." Carlson then turned to me. "I'm sorry about the confusion. Can I see your badge and if you don't mind, tell me something of what happened here." I had to admit he was being a gentleman, so I'd try and be nice. I rolled up my sleeve.

  "Kazak Lynn the Fox, number 231. Six gang bangers," I nodded to the bodies, "entered private property and threatened to gang rape my students and attempted to kill me, so I shot them."

  "Do Kazak usually shoot their opponents in the back?" His tone had suddenly turned harsh.

  "Only when they try to get away. This interview is over." I walked toward the bleachers. "Alright, I want an additional hour of meditation. You have a lot to consider; however, I'd recommend you try to wipe your mind clean. You will hear more if your mind is quiet."

  Yes, they would have many questions:

  Student: "Why can't the police question a Kazak?"

  Me: "Because it may compromise the high profile person she's guarding. In addition, they would want statements and may insist she accompany them to the police station for questioning. That would leave her client without protection for hours or even days while the organization found an available Kazak. Plenty of time to kill him. Furthermore, they would then want her to be available to testify in court. The organization doesn't have that many Kazaks that it can afford to have them tied up doing nothing."

  Student: "If the police can't arrest a Kazak, aren't you held accountable for your actions?"

  Me: "Neither the local, state, or FBI can arrest a Kazak nor can they be sued for their actions; however, they are accountable to the Committee who provides us with our immunity. They investigate ea
ch incident and decide if the victim is entitled to compensation and whether the Kazak deserves punishment."

  Student: "Won't you be punished for shooting that gang banger in the back?"

  Me: "No, he attacked people in my care. That action alone forfeited all his rights. Shooting him not only precludes him collecting friends and coming back, but also deprives his friends or employer of information as to how he was discovered and killed."

  Etc., etc....

  ***

  They had just finished their morning stretches, when Gabe and Clare showed up. Clare marched over to me and stood frowning but said nothing. Gabe on the other hand was clearly excited.

  "The rumors are all over town, Lynn. A Kazak killed six gang bangers. And something about a police officer being assaulted and one of the gang bangers being shot in the back," Gabe said in a rush, while Clare conducted her detailed inspection of me.

  "You're not hurt?"

  "No, love. And it's all true, Gabe. If you want, you can be present when Clare interviews me before she returns."

  Clare grabbed me in a bear hug and squeezed, burying her face in my neck. I could feel the tears.

  "Damn you, Lynn, I could just imagine you all shot up. I even called Witton and screamed at him. This assignment was suppose to keep you out of trouble for five years." Her voice got louder with each word. "You attract trouble like... like... Witton is as frustrated as I am. Damn, you're making me old before my time. Oh, I love you although I shouldn't." Clare's face slowly turned red when she realized there were nineteen women watching her.

  "Ladies, this attractive and talented lady is my soul mate and a senior editor for the Denver Post. She's going to be doing an article on this program. Please answer any questions she asks. She will keep confidential anything you tell her that you don't want printed. Gabe, they are all yours." I took Clare up into the bleachers to watch the class. When we sat, I put my arm around her, and she leaned against me. We sat quietly, content to be together again.

  ***

  Over the next week, Clare interviewed each student, watched every class, and questioned me about its purpose. At night, we talked and talked catching up on each other's life and later basked in the love of each other's arms. Clare stayed two weeks. I agreed to do a video interview under the condition that I would be shielded behind a translucent screen to hide my features and my voice distorted so it would be impossible to identify me or my gender. The last day, the Post sent down a camera crew. The Post had negotiated with the local TV station that agreed to purchase the interview. All the money would be administrated by a committee and distributed to deserving organizations and individuals in the local area. Clare would be the chairperson.

  I allowed the students to watch and to my surprise Gabe, Loretta, and Jianyu attended. We intentionally left out the confrontation with the police. It served no purpose and would create unnecessary antagonism. I already appeared on too many shit-lists. Before Clare left, I promised to take a couple of weeks off to visit her as soon as the women were settled on the Hill.

  ***

  The final week, I let eight women go. They had worked hard but didn't stand a chance of passing the second Challenge, but I thought they would benefit from the experience and the year would not have been wasted.

  "Students, tomorrow you leave for the Hill. I believe you are as prepared as anyone could be for the challenges to come. Remember, the minute you set foot on the Hill you will be just another candidate. You will be told to leave the minute you disobey or ignore the rules or can't compete with the others. Good luck." I allowed them to invite friends and relatives to the gym for their final night-no sex or alcohol. Fredric prepared a delicious assortment of meals and desserts for the celebration. Two of the women decided to leave the program after talking with their family. Afterward, the nine women I considered eligible to compete were driven to the airport where they would begin their journey to the Hill, and I went to say goodbye to Jianyu.

  ***

  "I thank you for allowing me to participate in your program, Master Lynn. It has been a rewarding experience to watch those candidates being shaped into would-be Kazaks. Thanks to you, they are better prepared than you were. Your interview with Clare reinforced what I thought about you and the reason I have refused to let Gabe fight with you. Your awareness of a situation, your opponent's weaknesses and your response are close to simultaneous. But the ramifications of those actions take time to register in your mind. For the same reason, you were smart not to participate in Gabe's or my training sessions. I hope you will find time to visit me again." Jianyu bowed. I knew I would every chance I could. Jianyu had become a dear friend over the years.

  CHAPTER TWO

  "Welcome to the Hill, Master Lynn," the head instructor on the Hill, Master Johar, said as I exited the helicopter. "I'm interested in seeing your candidates compete. Until you graced us with your presence, no one would have believed a woman could or would want to make Kazak. I suspect most consider you an anomaly and would wager the women you claim have passed an equivalent first Challenge will be eliminated by the third Challenge. However, knowing you trained them, I wouldn't take that bet." A small smile crossed his lips. "Come, I think we should welcome this year's candidates before they get too comfortable. The other Kazak instructors had assembled everyone-eighteen men and nine women. Johar walked to the front of the candidates and looked each in the eye.

  "You aren't here to have fun. If you came for fun, you came to the wrong place. We did not ask you to come here; therefore, you'll stay only as long as it takes us to find a reason to get rid of you," Johar said. I doubted any other school welcomed their freshmen class with such a message. He then turned to me. "Master Lynn, would you like to add anything?"

  "Thank you, Master Johar. I see by the smiles on a few faces that some of our candidates were not listening to you. While we allow you to stay, you will be celibate. If sex is more important than being a Kazak, I suggest you save us the trouble and leave now." Not only did the smiles disappear but frowns replaced them. I don't image the idea of no sex had crossed anyone's mind until now.

  That evening, all of the Kazaks on the Hill met in the building we referred to as the Temple, although it was only a marble building with no furniture or altar. It was used primarily for meditation and an occasional meeting of the Kazaks, since it was isolated and quiet. There were twelve of us. Except for me, they were retired either because of injuries or age or in rare cases, burnout.

  "Rumor has it you were out of control again and killed six innocent boys who wandered into your compound by mistake," Kazak Herbert the Tiger said trying his best to look serious, although the twitching of his lips spoiled it. The Hill received regular updates to the Lynn Board, which was meant to evaluate my Lynn's Rules for guarding clients. It contained all the complaints I received imposing them on my clients as well as any letters of appreciation, which was running three or four to one against.

  "Witton will tell you how out of control I can get when I'm bored. Christ, I hadn't shot anyone in years. Well maybe one but that's a long time." That elicited several smiles. They had all been there-months of doing nothing waiting for that life and death encounter that lasted only minutes. "Here's the version I'm sticking with," I said and proceeded to give them a detailed account of my encounter with the gang bangers.

  "What about the women candidates you've brought to the Hill?" Kazak Fred the Panther asked when I finished. It was a question I knew they all had on their mind. "Are they as devious as you were Fox?"

  "As far as I'm concerned, they are nine candidates competing to be Kazaks, who have passed the first Challenge. The Kazak school is excellent but it was designed to evaluate men not women. The special first Challenge was only intended to level the playing field. Now, they deserve no special treatment. If they can't be as tenacious as Kazak Herbert or as stealth as Kazak Fred or as devious as me, they will be eliminated. For your information, the program consisted of..."

  "I think you have equalized th
e men's inherent advantage. I'm looking forward to watching how this class will progress. Are you going to start another group next year?"

  "No! Well, maybe if Witton will provide a new group of gang bangers every month or so." I tried to look like I was considering it. "No. Witton wants me to monitor this group for a long as he and my soul mate, Clare, can keep me here and sane. They think four years. I think two, so we'll probably compromise at three.

  ***

  The next several months went by slowly. The first two years on the Hill was primarily academic, an accelerated college education in core course: languages, English, economics, psychology, math, and technology. Courses considered necessary to function in our elite clients' environments. The women and the men seemed to be having equal difficulties. During break one day, Jody approached me, bowed, but stood silent. After several minutes, she whispered, "Master Lynn, I know I'm not suppose to ask for help, but..."

  "Jody, we've told you we understand you don't all have the same educational background and we will help. We just won't do the work for you. So?"

  "I can't seem to learn a language. I'm managing with my other subjects, but I can't seem to learn the language I picked." Her eyes were misty, a rare sign of weakness. It must had cost her unbelievable agony to admit it.

  "Jody, what does that cluck gots her hood pierced, mean?" I asked. Jody responded without thinking.

  "The girl got her clit pierced."

  "No one else up here knows what that means, because it's another language-street language. So you already know two languages. Consider any other language as just another street gang's language. That's all it really is. You need that slang to fit into the street gang." I waited as she digested that. Slowly she nodded agreement. "Let me make a suggestion. Listen to each of the core languages you have to pick from and select the one you like the sound of. Disregard the one you have. It will take you a lot of extra work to succeed. When I arrived here, like you I hadn't had much in the way of school learning. I did it and you can too if this is really what you want to do with your life. Start by allowing yourself a half-hour less sleep every couple of weeks. You will find you can exist on four or five hours of sleep and still be functional the next day. That will give you a couple of hours more to study."