Megan Read online

  I left Jody around one a.m. and went back to the hotel with my hook-up. By the time we got in bed, I was so ready he kept slipping out of me even though I felt as tight as a virgin. It was late and the room was dimly lit when I felt him slip out of bed. I didn't move, content to lie there, satisfied in many ways. Then I heard the zipper on my black bag which contained my Kazak clothes and accessories—two Glocks and several throwing knifes. When he had asked me about the bag earlier, I had dismissed it as containing personal things.

  I rolled out of bed as he prepared to stick his hand into the bag, and drove a sidekick into his shoulder. The impact sent him spinning around and stumbling backward into a chair.

  "I think you need a lesson bitch—maybe a slave-sex lesson," he snarled, but excitement danced in his eyes as he got to his feet and stalked toward me, smiling in anticipation. When he was within a few feet of me he snapped a front kick at my stomach. Unfortunately for him, I caught with a "X" block, locked on to his leg, lifted it shoulder high, and drove my instep into his dangling balls. He screamed—which I could empathize. I'd bet it hurt, probably more than the knee I drove into his face when he doubled over. He landed against the wall, bleeding from his nose and mouth and lying tucked in a fetal position. Just then Jody burst through the door.

  "Oh! Sorry, Megan. I didn't mean to interrupt…is this rough sex or has he outlived his usefulness?" she said, trying her best not to laugh.

  "He called me a bitch."

  "But you are." Jody grinned. "Every man on the Hill called you that at least once.

  "I caught him opening my black bag." I nodded to the leather bag on the floor. "Grab his clothes, he's leaving. We dragged him moaning and swearing to the front door and threw him into the hallway. Jody laughed as she flung his clothes out the door. We spent the next hour giggling like teenaged girls and reminiscing over incidents that were funny in hindsight, though not so funny at the time.

  We spent the next day taking a few tours, eating at popular restaurants, and visited a couple nightclubs in the evening. We went home alone. Last night had been fun, even throwing Alan out the door, but my mind was on tomorrow and I just wasn't in the mood for a hookup.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Congresswoman Patterson

  Jody and I got up early and caught a cab back to our condos to drop off some of our purchases and then caught a cab to Richmond International.

  "Thanks, Megan, that was fun. If it hadn't been for you, I would have stayed cooped up at the condo. I think I'll be more inclined to put my old life behind me and enjoy my new one."

  "Any time you need help, call me."

  At the terminal we easily found the company plane, designated as KG100, and boarded. As we entered the plane an attractive woman in her mid-thirties met us, wearing a light-beige suit and a plain white blouse. She had a trim figure, auburn hair, and a sunny smile.

  "Welcome aboard, Kazak Megan and Kazak Jody. I'm Kathryn. Would you like something to drink before takeoff?" she asked in a cheerful sunny voice.

  "Coffee, black," Jody replied.

  "Juice, of any kind," I said absent-mindedly, mesmerized by the luxury of the aircraft's interior. None of the standard rows of three-by-three narrow seats. The inside had a variety of seating: single seats facing each other with a table in between, couch, and double seats facing each other with a table in between. Each seat covered in a soft beige leather. Lynn sat in the middle of the plane at a two-by-two with a table.

  "Hi, Megan, Jody," she said as we sat in the seats opposite her. "Did you enjoy your two-day vacation?"

  "Sure did. Megan knows how to spend money like it's counterfeit." Jody laughed. "And I got a demonstration of what she does with her lover when she's through with him. Very exciting, unless you're him."

  "Witton is really sorry he couldn't give you more time off. You certainly deserve it after nine years on the Hill, but the timing necessitates we start the women's First Challenge now if they are going to finish on time to join the men, and he has another assignment that is particularly suited for women Kazaks."

  "What?" I asked, excited at the thought of my first assignment. Lynn smiled while nodding understanding.

  "She's a congresswoman from Oklahoma. She made a remark about Blacks and Hispanics that have some folks threatening to retire her—permanently."

  "What did she say?" I asked, knowing everything upset someone. I understood that, but not the present day attitude of justified violence.

  "Something to the effect that "the Civil War has made it possible to have a foreign-born Black as president, and if we don't throw out all the illegals, one of them will be in the White House next."

  "Wow! I wonder what she really thinks. The only thing she could have said more controversial would be to trash the Bible. I wonder why Witton wants to protect her," I said, thinking she deserved some grief.

  "It's not Witton. He runs the daily operations, but he doesn't select who gets protected. The Committee that funds and provides our immunity does that. We can only guess why they choose to protect one person and not another. It may be because of her constitutional right to free speech that she is important to her district or some aspect in Congress, or we just can't have people killing congresswomen—even if they're assholes."

  "Where I grew up it would take a lot less to get you killed," Jody said.

  I grinned at the irony. "Funny, where I grew up most of the neighborhood would have agreed with her and half would have contributed to her reelection." In my parents’ neighborhood everyone had an opinion, but I doubted anyone would consider doing anything violent—too much trouble. Jody, on the other hand, came from an environment where violence was the preferred solution.

  "So, Megan, do you think she should be protected?" Lynn asked while watching me closely.

  "I'll have an opinion about everything, like the people I grew up around, but I'm a Kazak. I'll leave it to the Committee to decide who's worth the investment they have in me." Ten years training, salary, condo, medical, etc. I was a several-million-dollar investment.

  "Jody?"

  "I too am willing to leave it to the Committee to decide what's best for the country. I want to be a Kazak not a judge."

  "Good. Don't get distracted with people's morals, ideas, or beliefs. That will only get you, your client, or you both killed."

  * * *

  At the McCarran Airport we rented a Buick Enclave and drove out to the site where Jody and I had undergone Lynn's First Challenge training. The buildings looked exactly the same, but it was obvious they had been renovated because everything was clean and new looking. Our old chef Fredric was there, looking like he hadn't aged a day in the ten years, although the cleaning crew was new. It had been a long, painful journey, but I didn't regret a second of it. Ten years ago, I was a spoiled young woman, thinking I was entitled to the good life. Today I realized that young woman valued nothing because she had never earned anything. Her life would always have been empty and she never would have truly been happy for long.

  After touring the facility Lynn took us to see Master Jianyu, the Kung Fu Master who had taught us how to survive against the stronger and more aggressive men candidates. It was late when we arrived and Jianyu was getting ready to close the facility. Jianyu looked like he hadn't aged a year.

  "Master Lynn, Kazak Megan, Kazak Jody, it's a pleasure to see you again. I had thought you two might make Kazak. There was a dramatic change in both of you during that year."

  "Thanks to you and Master Lynn," Jody said, giving Jianyu a small bow. "I appreciate you agreeing to teach this new group of candidates."

  "It's a rewarding experience, watching the young women mature. Even those who don't qualify to go to the Hill come away having learned a lot about themselves, which will benefit them throughout their lives." Over tea, Jianyu and Jody spent some time talking about the schedule and training.

  For the next two days Jody and I spent the days visiting each of the casinos, took trips to see the local sights, and checked out a few
nightclubs. Jody returned to the training facility each night. I spent one with a good-looking man in town for an automotive convention. Fortunately for him, he wasn't interested in my black bag.

  * * *

  The fourth night Lynn and I joined the women sitting in the bleachers, waiting for someone to arrive. They had come in response to the same notice that had brought Jody and me ten years ago. As before, it had been posted in gyms, sports, fitness, and martial arts facilities across the country.

  When Jody arrived an hour later, she had a small smile on her face. I couldn't blame her. Ten years ago she sat in these same bleachers, with me crabbing about no one being here to greet us.

  "Ladies," she said, and waited for the talking to subside. "I'm Kazak Jody. Ten years ago I sat where you do today. I came in response to the same notice that brought you. I had been in gangs all my life and thought I was tough. Today I'll tell you I wasn't ready for the Hill, that's the nickname for the Kazak's school. Without this training, I wouldn't have lasted a week. Just like I could never have been one of the gang's leaders. The men are naturally stronger and more aggressive and won't allow a woman to rule them without a fight-to-the-death contest I couldn't have won. This training is considered the equivalent of the men's First Challenge, which is to climb the sheer face of the mountain on which the Kazak school sits. But more importantly, it will give those who survive the training the ability to negate the men's natural advantage. I'm going to do you a favor and spend the next hour trying to convince all the sane ones to go home."

  "Why?" several women shouted in unison.

  "Because it's not a life most of you would like, regardless of the benefits. I don't know if you have to be crazy or special to be a Kazak, but you have to want it more than anything in life. It takes years of learning to ignore pain, to exist on only a few hours of sleep, and to give up your lives to watch over people who also don't care about you. Of those here today, only a handful will qualify for entrance to the school, and at most only one or two will become a Kazak. When you arrive, your welcoming speech will go something like this:

  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."

  "Don't they want Kazaks?" a tall athletic woman asked.

  "Kazak Lynn's soul mate claims they want all the sane ones to leave. She may be right. Your first challenge will be one year long. You will work seven days a week and have no outside contact."

  * * *

  Over the next week, Lynn and I watched as Jody's confidence grew. Lynn gave her no advice but was willing to answer the few questions Jody asked. By the end of the week, only twenty-three women remained, which was about what we expected and consistent with last time.

  "Jody, Megan, and I will be leaving tomorrow morning for Oklahoma. Miss Patterson has been on vacation all week at some undisclosed location, with FBI protection, and is returning tomorrow. Don't doubt yourself. You know what they will face on the Hill and what you have to do to get them ready. Better to bring two to the Hill who are qualified rather than ten who aren't."

  * * *

  The company plane wasn't available but, to my surprise, Ann Marie booked us in first-class.

  "Do we always travel like this?" I asked. My parents had money but they didn't pay for me to fly first class and most companies didn't allow their employees to either.

  "Yes, the benefits are many: first class, private plane, condo, generous salary, and more. But I doubt anyone would spend the years of Kazak training for them. In the same time, you could become a doctor or surgeon and earn ten times as much without the years of pain and without having to risk your life to save others. We each do it for our own reasons, but I doubt anyone does it for the benefits."

  "I suspect you're right. Doctor, lawyer, Indian chief aren't my thing. With all the pain and hard work, I loved the Hill." I had enjoyed the training, in spite of the long hours, punishing workouts, and having the men candidates trying to kill me. Each year had been more exciting than the last. And now I could hardly contain my excitement at the thought of the coming assignment.

  At the airport we caught a cab to the congresswoman's house, where a stocky middle-aged man with an underarm holster met us. He gave us an appraising look before speaking.

  "I assume you're Kazaks and you're Lynn. I've heard a lot about you, mostly bad. Although, Agent Wohl and her people seem to like you and have some interesting stories. Actually, it might be fun watching to see how you and Miss Patterson get along. I'm Chuck."

  "Hi, Chuck. I'm Lynn and this is Kazak Megan. I understand. You and your team have little option except to acquiesce to the people you guard. Too often they treat you like servants rather than the professionals you are." She shrugged. Lynn seemed in a really good mood today. I had known her long enough to know she could strip the hide off a Komodo Dragon. "But we don't do it for their approval, do we?"

  "No, we don't. Come I'll take you to meet Miss Patterson. This should be interesting." He led us to the right into a medium-size room. The house was old and the room was smaller than today's modern houses. The room looked to act as a formal reception or front room to entertain guests. Miss Patterson sat on a flowered cloth loveseat, with papers scattered on a coffee table in front of her. She was a tall slim woman with a narrow face, which didn't look happy. Her narrow-set eyes, nearly slits, stared over a long thin nose and her thin lips were set in a scowl.

  "Miss Patterson, these are the Kazaks, Lynn and Megan," Chuck said, trying to suppress a grin. Patterson looked up and her sour face turned to a grimace.

  "I want Kazaks not lesbians. Get out. You're unacceptable." Her face had gone from ruddy to red. I stood there in shock. Lynn smiled and flipped open her smartphone.

  "Hi, Boss, the old bag doesn't want us. Do you have another assignment? If not we could stop off in Denver."

  "Who do you think you are?" Patterson shouted as she lunged to her feet.

  "We protect people’s lives at the risk of ours. Even obnoxious people like you. But we're not puppy dogs or your servants, and not your employees. We don't do tricks and don't take orders. Here, Mr. Witton would like to speak to you." Lynn smiled as she handed Patterson the phone. She grabbed it and began shouting.

  "I want them replaced with real Kazaks. They are deviates and rude—" She stopped speaking and her face got redder. "You can't speak to me like—" She sputtered to a stop and silence followed. She handed the phone back to Lynn. I was glad to be with Lynn and not by myself. I'm not sure what I would have done.

  "You…can stay…but—"

  "No buts, Miss Patterson. I have rules you will follow or we will leave." Lynn held up her hand to stop Patterson from speaking. "These rules are to protect your life not mine. And although I don't like you, I will do everything in my power, even risking my life, to keep you alive and unharmed. If you don't want to cooperate, then you don't consider the threat on your life serious, and we will leave. The FBI are professionals and will probably be sufficient if you let them do their job." Silence followed her speech and Lynn put her phone away. I noticed the man in the corner rub his nose to hide a smile.

  "What are your…rules?"

  "You will be in our sight at all times. No exceptions, unless the room you're in has only one entrance, no windows, and no one else is in the room. We can't protect you if we can't see you."

  When Patterson didn't respond, Lynn walked over to the far wall facing Patterson and the entrance to the room. I followed.

  "What kind of shifts do you want, Lynn?"

  "To begin with, sixteen on and eight off. We'll overlap eight hours until you feel it's not necessary."

  "Lynn's rules?"

  "Kazaks have no rules. Each of us has to develop our own. The Governor I was first assigned was killed while I was on duty. I let him treat me like a puppy: sit, stay, roll over. I tried to do my job but he was frequently out of my sight. An Assassin killed him
in the men's room." She didn't smile. I couldn't help a short laugh, which got everyone's attention except Patterson, who managed not to look in our direction. "You will have to develop you own rules—Megan's rules."

  The Hill had taught me Lynn's rules for our exercises when protecting clients. I kind of liked them. If for no other reason than it would keep me close to my client. For me, half the fun of being a Kazak would be to participate in the life of VIPs I would be guarding, and if the client's threat involved an Assassin, closeness would be essential. Assassins weren't better trained but had special talents: Liars could tell lies everyone would believe. Ghosts could make themselves close to invisible. Illusionists could make themselves look like anyone, even people you knew. And Glamour Assassins made everyone instantly love them. I had learned how to detect them but it required constant vigilance and being close to your client. Lynn decided we would both work the 9:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. shift. I would work the 5:00 p.m. to 1:00 a.m. and Lynn from 1:00 a.m. to 9:00 a.m. Thinking about it, I could see why she preferred to work alone. Where were you going to go for eight hours? Sleep? I could do that while the client slept.

  Patterson rose, grabbed a light sweater, and exited the door with two FBI men and us following. Patterson turned back and shouted, "Where are you two lesbians going? I don’t want you following me." She glared at us, fists on her hips.

  Lynn flipped open her cell.

  "Hi, Boss, we need another assignment. She doesn't want us following her and, personally, I wouldn't shoot the Assassin until after he’d killed her." Lynn listened for a moment, then put her phone away. "Come, Megan, we're off to the airport. Ann Marie will call us with our reservations."

  We left with Patterson screaming obscenities.

  "I didn't think we could just leave if we didn't like someone," I said. I didn't think we were slaves, but Witton had said the company had spent years training us and giving us our dream, therefore assignments weren't optional.