The next two months were more boring than the previous months. Vanaja continued to receive hostile email and tweets, but they seemed more like the normal rants frustrated people give when someone doesn't agree with them. I looked forward to being taken off this assignment and a week's vacation to see Clare. I had earned it. I decided to lobby for an end to the assignment.
"Hi, boss. This is your extremely bored Kazak who is in need of a good therapist to unscramble my brain."
"Her office couldn't be in Denver?"
"She's the best in the country at putting new life into this worn out Kazak." Just the thought of Clare brought a smile to my face and a tingle through my body.
"I'll check with the Committee. Things do appear to have settled down." The phone went dead. I'd bet he was as rude with his clients as I can be. I loved that man.
***
I woke to the sound of two cars pulling off the side of the road in front of the house. When I made it to the bottom of the stairs, I could see men running up the driveway and several heading for the side of the house. I counted six but there could be more. I took up a position in the kitchen. It provided reasonable cover and had a good view of most of the doors-and hit "1" on my speed dial.
"Yes." Given the time around three in the morning, the muted response acknowledged he understood the seriousness of my situation.
"Two car loads of gunmen just dropped in-" My mouth dropped open when I heard a key in the lock and the front door swung open. A head peeked around the corner, then he and another slipped into the room. I shot the first one twice in the chest. As he staggered back against the wall I shot the other one twice. He hit the door. Neither man fell. The first one raised his gun and fired in my direction. SHIT, it's Leesun all over again, the bastards are wearing bulletproof vests!
Just then, I heard windows being smashed from down the hallway to the media and formal dining rooms. I pulled out my backup gun and began firing at both men's legs-the room was barely lit by the three-quarter moon and they were moving which made the legs an easier target than the head. If I had been Jesse... My stomach ached from the thought.
Shots and glass from the sliders onto the deck exploded inward as a heavyset man came crashing through and stopped. His gun arm rotated as he looked for a target. Coming up from behind the marble counter, I shot three times. The moonlight and his stationary position made him an easy target. The first two hit home and his head spraying blood in every direction as his momentum drove him backward in the room. Bullets slammed into the counter and ceiling, which meant the two from the front door were on the ground-hopefully bleeding to death-and the counter blocked their fire. I dropped into a split as two men came creeping into the main room from the dining room hallway. That caused the man coming around the corner to hesitate, while he searched for me. By the time he found me on the floor, I had a clean headshot. I scored a direct hit on the first one but missed the second one as he jerked back. He peeked back and we both fired- and missed.
Just then the door to the garage opened, which was on the opposite side of the house. No shots followed. Having arrived late and in murky light, I doubt they knew where to fire.
"What's happening," a voice from the door shouted.
"She's in the kitchen!" one voice came from the floor by the door and the other from the entrance to the dining room. Logically they will be looking for me to exit from around the counter away from the door, since the man on the floor and the one in entrance to the dining room had the other way covered. So, I took two crouching steps and rolled toward the entrance to the dining room. Several shots rang out as I rolled to a standing position against the hallway wall with my gun ready to shot. To my surprise, the man in the hallway was staggering backward-the man on the floor most likely shot him in the process of shooting at me. I shot him in the head to be on the safe side. As I turned back, the man on the floor was crawling forward so he could look into the hallway. I shot him in the head, twice. Pain seared through my side as two blasts rang out. Kapil stood halfway up the stairway with a shotgun.
As I put four shots into his chest, it all became clear: his attitude towards me, the efforts to have the police arrest me, the key in the lock, and the shotgun in the bedroom. I just hoped he hadn't killed Vanaja yet.
I didn't know how many were left, but the shooting had stopped. At least temporarily, we seemed to have a standoff. That suited me because I could see the staircase so no one could get up to the bedrooms. The only possible problem came from the blood running down my leg. I couldn't afford a long drawn out stalemate. I tore my shirt off and held the rolled up cloth tight against my side.
"What's the situation out there? Who has the shotgun?" a voice from the door to the garage shouted.
"That was Kapil. He hit her but I don't know if she's dead or wounded. We might be the only-" the voice by the sliders was interrupted by sirens and flashing red and blue light danced on what was left of the windows. I have to admit that I was happy to see the boys and girls in blue. More shots.
"Down on your knees, hands behind you head. Now!" several voices shouted from the outside.
"Vanaja, are you alright?" I shouted and crossed my fingers.
"Yes," she said from the top of the stairs, and then she screamed. "KAPIL!"
"Stop!" I shouted and fired a bullet into the ceiling to get her attention. "Stay where you are. There are still several gunmen running around. The police will be in here in a few minutes. Wait for them." I was tired and slid down the wall to a sitting position. The last thing I remembered was noticing my hand had turned a pretty shade of red.
I woke to the smell of antiseptic and Al the Cheetah leaning against the wall in the corner.
"Hi, Al. We have to stop meeting this way."
"Witton wanted me here to make sure you didn't shoot any of the nurses or doctors. We could have avoided this medical stuff, if you had invited me and some of the boys to your party. I thought we were friends."
"I called Witton to invite everyone, but no one showed."
"Next time, give us some notice and we'll bring the entertainment."
"How long have I been here?"
"Three days. They've kept you heavily sedated...for their protection." Al grinned. "They had to operate. You had a slug in your calf and multiple shotgun pelts in your side and arm. And you had lost a lot of blood."
"Why are you here?" I asked. "Is the Committee or Witton mad at me?"
"Actually I'm here to protect you. You've upset a bunch of people: a few of the local police for breaking the sergeant's arm and for not being held accountable, most of Callahan's congregation think you should be tried for killing a good church going man, friends of the dead gang members probably would like revenge, and Vanaja hates you one minute and loves you the next."
"I did her a favor."
"Witton doubts anyone would try to kill you, but he thought you deserved some peace and quiet. Vince the Panther is guarding Vanaja, although I doubt it will be for long. The serious threat seems to be over. The police investigation has concluded that Kapil had encouraged some of Callahan's parishioners to convince his wife to stop working on embryonic stem cells. When one got killed, he saw an opportunity to stop his wife permanently and hired a local Boston gang. And Vanaja is considering a long vacation while she decides what she wants to do with BioCells.
"That's good. I need a vacation. Do you know if Witton called Clare?" That was going to be about as much fun as being in a room full of African bees.
"He's not stupid, Lynn. He'll give you lots of time off and your plane in return for you telling her." Al laughed. "I've met Clare. She's a sweetheart, but she's a little sensitive when it comes to you."
I had a conference call with Witton the next day, which pretty much confirmed what Al that told me-he hadn't called Clare, I had the Company plane when I was fit to travel, and I had as much time off as I needed. Al kept me company for the next six days, although I said he didn't need to if he left me a gun. Secretly I was glad he stayed. He helped make the days go faster and his experiences were interesting and good information for future clients.
***
"Good morning, Kazak Al, Lynn. The pilot informs me we are cleared for takeoff in ten minutes. Can I get you anything while we wait?" Katherine said in her normally cheerful voice.
"Good morning, Katherine. You look beautiful as usual," Al replied. "I'd like a glass of Bordeaux if you have it; otherwise, any red wine will do."
"Coffee and dessert. Anything sweet," I added. It seemed I felt constantly hungry. My body's desperate plea for calories to repair the damage I had caused it. And the pain to remind me it was unhappy.
"One super sweet dessert coming right up," she said as she headed up front.
"Are you staying overnight in Denver or are you continuing on today?" I asked. Al was going to California to escort some VIP to and from Mexico.
"No, I'm continuing on today. My VIP leaves tomorrow. I'm hoping associating with you will attract an Assassin or two. Of course, you seem to have hit a dry spell. I don't think you've shot an Assassin or even got a complaint on your last couple of assignments."
"They probably don't know who to send it to."
Katherine returned with a Dark Chocolate Cheesecake. I had two slices before we were airborne. I slept most of the time when I wasn't worrying about meeting Clare. She was far too quiet when I called her yesterday saying I was coming today.
It was late afternoon by the time I departed the plane. Clare stood waiting just past the security checkpoint. She looked pale. I hoped it was my imagination but knew it wasn't. I knew it wasn't my fault I had been shot, but I felt guilty anyway because I knew how much it hurt her. Conversely, she was angry with me for being shot although she knew I couldn't leave when the shooting started, but she was worried sick and had to release the frustration on someone. Love's wonderful but can be stressful.
"Can I kiss you without breaking something?" she asked as she cupped my face in her hands. That look hurt worse than my injuries. I leaned forward and gave her a long tender kiss. "Don't worry, love. I called Witton this morning and screamed at him so I'm mostly over my rage. I've actually become fond of the man. He's willing to listen and understands my need to blame someone other than you."
"Yes, I like him too. He's been there himself and takes the time to understand his people and their mates. He's not only a good boss but a friend." It was true. Witton did make an effort to understand me and extremely supportive of me, my Rules, and Clare.
A relaxed silence existed on the drive back to the Condo. I was home with my love again-an alternative universe for me. One I couldn't stay in permanently, but one I loved with all my heart. Back at the Condo I lay on the couch in Clare's arm listening to her tell me about her life over the past months. Neither of us wanted to talk about my work for now. That would be a story for later.
In bed that night, Clare examined every scar, stitch, and bruise, gently touching and kissing each one. By the time we fell asleep, I felt healed.
***
I mostly stayed home over the next week except for two visits to the local hospital to have the stitches removed and x-rays. One night we went to a show and had dinner out.
"Well, I have everything cleaned up and have a week or so off. Do you have something planned or do I get to pick?" Clare asked while kissing my neck.
"How am I supposed to concentrate when you're doing that?" Her hot breath sent goose bumps down my whole body. "Don't stop kissing. Just stop asking trick questions."
"I thought maybe we could go to this little cozy lodge...in New Zealand," Clare paused for only a second to look at my face before rushing on. "The Kazaks are probably paying for it and if not you have plenty of money. I always wanted to see New Zealand."
"We have plenty of money. A six star lodge?"
"I would've but five is the top. You've spoiled me-private planes, suites at five star hotels and resorts, expensive restaurants, and...well you get the idea."
I picked up my iphone and dialed Ann Marie.
"Ann Marie's travel agency," she answered. "How can I help you, Lynn?"
"Clare has decided my recent injuries entitle her to a vacation in New Zealand."
"Tell her I agree."
"Me too. She's decided she'd like a suite at the Matakauri Lodge and a private plane if that's possible; otherwise, first class will do in a pinch," I couldn't help but laugh at the foster care child booking five star hotels and flying on private planes.
"I'll call you back with the details."
We were midway through breakfast the next morning when Ann Marie called. I put the phone on speaker.
"Good choice, Clare. I've got booked you for ten nights, Gendel is sending his plane, which will wait there for your return, and I got Witton to pay for the lodge, since Lynn's not using the company plane and has her own private nurse and shrink."
"We owe you, Ann Marie," Clare said. "Tell Witton I take back some of the bad things I said to him and I'll return her in...fighting condition."
***
"Welcome aboard, Miss Lynn, Miss Frazer. It's nice to see you two again," Susan, Gendel's stewardess said as we entered plane. "I hope you fly with us more often, you pick some nice places to go and we get to wait for you. Would you ladies like something to drink before we takeoff?"
"I'll have some red wine and something non-alcoholic for Lynn. She's trouble enough when she's sober." Clare giggled like a little girl. We walked by and settled for a chair with a table between them. "I wonder what's for dinner?" She giggled again. "Damn, this giggling has got to stop but I can't help it. I've got my love home with me and we're flying in a private jet to a five star resort in New Zealand where we have suites. The Queen of England couldn't do any better. Oh, and I have a private Kazak bodyguard."
"Yes, my love. There is no one in the world I'd trade places with right now. My life is perfect since I met you."