"Lynn, Witton. Your pilot has been notified to make arrangements to return to D.C. tomorrow. You can deliver your package to the Harry S. Truman Building. It would appear appropriate for you to be visiting the State Department. Your gambit paid off. The FBI is insisting they take custody. After they take him, I'd like you and Mithra to report back to me."
Ann Marie canceled the planned dinner the next evening and an invitation from one of the imams.
"Well, Lynn, this eases my concerns. Niagara Falls didn't seem too dangerous; however, in New York anything could happen. Personally, I'm glad we're returning to D.C. I just hope a new team takes responsibility for Lauro. It should be enough that I had to accompany you." She smiled.
We had dinner in the hotel's dining room and retired early. We left the next morning and arrived at Ronald Reagan Washington National just after noon, where a limousine waited to drive us to the Truman Building. Two men in light blue suits and sunglasses stood at the bottom of the stairs to the entrance.
"It's good to see you, Ann. Given your present company, I'm surprised you made it in one piece. You should get a promotion." He gave a snort. "Come, the director is waiting for you inside."
We were taken upstairs to a conference room. When we entered, a silver-haired man sat at the head of a long mahogany table. The table had at least twenty tan leather chairs surrounding it. Six seats were occupied.
"Good afternoon, Director Williamson." Ann nodded in his direction. He smiled at her. At least, I thought the slight twitch of his lips constituted a smile.
"Congratulations, Ann. This will mean a promotion for you. The odds were ten-to-one that Lauro wouldn't make it to testify. We've added six more agents to your team. Tomorrow you will deliver Lauro to the district court building at ten a.m."
"What about the Kazaks?"
"They can change into civilian clothes and leave. You obviously didn't need them." His lips twitched again.
I guess that means I'm still on their shit list.
Mithra and I were led to a small room, which contained a change of clothes for each of us. I would imagine Ann Marie had collected them, since mine were from my condo. Ann entered, as we were getting ready to leave.
"I'm sorry, Lynn."
"Don't be. His opinion of me is only important to him. Your opinion is far more important."
"You're a dangerous person to be around, but I wouldn't have anyone else at my back. Besides, I like you, Lynn. I'd like to see you now and then, socially."
"I'd like that." I gave her a hug.
***
Mithra and I sat in Witton's office later that afternoon. He looked in a good mood.
"The Committee is very happy with your handling of this assignment. Your impersonation of a Muslim dignitary was excellent. We'll have to keep that a secret. I would hate to think of all the people who would want you deported. Ironically, from what I hear, you actually achieved some positive results. You two can take a couple of weeks off." He stopped to take a sip of his coffee and laughed. "Unless, of course, I find another assignment."
Mithra and I relaxed in my condo for several hours, reminiscing about the trip and our responses to each of the firefights. It would be dangerous to congratulate ourselves for surviving or winning without analyzing what we could or should have done better. I was glad that Witton had sent Mithra. Without him the results would have been different. Afterward, I lay on the couch with a large homemade milkshake, listening to some Kenny G music. I was sorry to see the tour end. I had enjoyed the experience. The sights and accommodations were fantastic, but being a voice for Muslim women eclipsed everything else. I went to bed late but could not get to sleep. In the middle of the night, I jerked awake and called Witton's private number.
"What is it, Lynn? It had better be five-in-the-morning good or your vacation is cancelled."
"After the first couple of weeks, the Assassins weren't looking for Lauro. If we had kept him at a safe house or they had somehow stumbled on our ruse, they would have taken advantage of the opportunity. But they didn't have to worry whether they found him or not."
"Why
...
Of course. They know where he will be when the trial starts." Silence. "You get over to where Lauro is being held and accompany the security team to the court. Have Mithra stationed at the courtroom. Don't let that FBI clown give you any trouble. I'll clear it with the Committee." He hung up.
I called Mithra and told him of my conversation with Witton. He had been thinking the same thing and had been getting ready to call him. I dressed and arrived at the Truman Building a little after six.
Ann met me at the entrance. She looked like she hadn't slept and probably didn't intend to until Lauro was safely delivered to the courtroom. "Director Williamson wants to see you. He isn't happy. You're not going to shoot him, I hope." She led me to the elevator, up two floors, and into a smaller conference room. Two security men stood inside the room.
"Who the hell do you Kazaks think you are? We at the FBI don't need Kazaks to be a bodyguard for someone under our protection, and especially not you." By the end of his rant, his face had turned red and he was halfway out of his seat, banging on the table.
"It would appear I caught you before you've had your morning coffee."
He stood and pointed a finger at me. "I'll-"
"Cut the
I'm an important man
act. You and I know I'm staying and any attempt to get rid of me will mean a tour in Africa for you." I turned to Ann. "Would you please take me to where Lauro is sequestered?"
As Ann and I left the room, I heard Williamson shouting. "I won't forget this!"
"You were a little rough with him, Lynn. He can be very vindictive."
"Rough would have been if I'd shot him."
"She can be really bitchy when she doesn't get her coffee in the morning," Mithra said as he came up behind us. "Come to think of it, she can be really bitchy when she
does
get her coffee."
"Witton and I think Assassins plan to kill Lauro sometime between now and before he can testify. If we're right, it's going to be ugly. With your permission, I would like to practice some possible scenarios, so we'll all be on the same page when the fun starts." I watched Ann as she went through the emotional roller coaster of possible outcomes-most unhappy.
"Yes. I'll get my entire team here."
***
Lauro wasn't due to testify until eleven o'clock, so we managed to evolve several responses based mostly on the assumption that it would be an Assassin. Either Mithra or I would shout a key word to indicate everyone's position and action. It wasn't a perfect solution, but it was the best we could do given the circumstances.
I decided to try the Arabic diplomat ruse to get us to the courthouse. We might get away with that; however, once there it wouldn't work any more. It was risky. The six new men left early for the courthouse, while Ann, two of her team, Mithra, and Lauro left with me a half an hour later using the front entrance. We made it to the car without incident. On the way, I changed back to my normal street clothes, since I didn't think the ruse would work any more and could destroy everything I may have accomplished on my tour.
When we reached the curb, the six new members of the team surrounded Mithra as if he was Lauro and we continued up the steps and through the door. As we entered the building, a man in a police officer's uniform stopped us. I was wearing earplugs so I couldn't hear what was said, but when everyone turned toward Lauro, including Mithra, I shot the officer in the head. Everyone on the team turned toward me, while those milling around the hallway began running and, I thought, screaming. I couldn't hear anything. Mithra shook his head like a wet dog then gave me a thumbs up, while saying something. The team all turned to the front except Mithra who concentrated on watching our backs. We stepped over the dead man and continued walking down the now empty hallway. While everyone was running, I thought I saw another officer turn into a woman just before he or she turned the corner. I assumed he or she had been waiting for Lauro to be identified.
"Illusion Assassin somewhere up ahead," I shouted. Ann and Mithra nodded, so I knew they had heard. I called for a halt. If there was an Illusion Assassin there could also be a Ghost waiting. I scanned the area closely for several minutes, then turned around and tried again. I could see no distortion. I waved the group ahead. We made it to the door designated as the courtroom where the criminal case against the Fabiano family would be heard. I walked in first and called a halt, while I scanned the people, walls, lawyers, court officers, and the judge.
"Lauro, come forward and have a seat in the front row with the rest of the witnesses. The rest of you can wait outside," the black judge's voice rang with authority.
"Mithra, the judge! Down!" I shouted and turned toward the door leading to the judge's quarters. I managed to get one round off before the spectators began coming out of their seats and blocking my view. I heard a staccato of sharp pops, which had to be from an automatic weapon or machine gun. Blood splattered everywhere as people got between the Ghost and me. Pain shot through my arm, and I was spun around, hitting people and chairs. My right arm felt dead, and I had lost my gun. As I groped with my left hand for my other gun, the room sounded like a firing range. By the time I got back up, it was over. People lay everywhere. Several members of Ann's team were down, including Ann.
A few minutes later, police officers entered the room with guns drawn.
"FBI," one of Ann's team said, pointing to the badge hanging on a cord from his neck. The wounded, including me, were transported to the hospital. Lauro was unhurt, probably because he was lying on the floor during the shootout. Ironically, Fabiano was shot and died in the operating room. Mithra and four of Ann's team survived without injuries, three were killed, and three others including Ann were wounded. I agreed to stay overnight, if for no other reason than I was bone tired. Witton and Mithra visited the next morning.
"You could just have asked for time off, but I guess you decided you wouldn't get a private plane ride there." Witton shook his head. "Mithra didn't get shot, so why did you?"
"Lucky, I guess."
"The FBI were a little upset that I shot a judge, until they found the real judge dead in his chambers. I decided to tell them you told me to shoot him, since you're already on their shit list. How did you know?" Mithra said.
"I didn't. There was a Ghost Assassin by the door to the judge's chambers, and the judge's remarks didn't feel right."
"Didn't feel right!" Mithra half shouted. Witton just shook his head.
"She has an annoying habit of shooting first and determining if she's right afterward. So far she's been right. OK, you two can have a couple of weeks off and the use of our plane to fly you wherever you want to go. It'll probably be a while before I can get Lynn an assignment. She's on every shit list the government agencies keep. I'm not sure why, but Ann may be the only person who is willing to work with her. I wouldn't." Witton patted my arm. "She's in room 319, in case you want to visit the only friend you have in the government."
***
Later that day I felt well enough to walk down to Ann's room. Ann was lying in bed with an oxygen tube in her nose and was wired to a heart monitor.
"I guess you're lobbying for the week off," I said with a straight face.
"No, I'm trying to get a desk job, so I don't get any more assignments with you. I hear the president is going to issue a proclamation to that effect." She grinned.
"I understand you've gotten another promotion. A couple more assignments with me and you'll have Williamson's job."
"If I live through them."
"There is that." I held her hand. "I hope you get well soon. I promise not to ask for you again."
"Call me crazy, but if you need me, I'm willing. Besides, if I don't replace Williamson you'll never get off the agency's shit list."
"Hi, Clare-"
"Don't tell me. You've gone and got yourself shot up again. Damn you, Lynn."
"Yes, but it wasn't so bad this time. Can you get some time off?"
"Yes, I've begun saving my vacation time for when you call. You need a full-time shrink, but I guess you'll have to settle for a part-time one."
"Do you have anyone you'd like to bring along?" I asked. Someday she was going to find a man she wanted to marry. Then the kids would come along and she wouldn't be able to join me. The thought gave me a lump in my chest.
"No. I can't seem to
...
No."
"I have two stories. Unfortunately, you can only print one. Where would you like to go to hear them?" I promised myself I would make time, just once, to visit her when I wasn't just out of the hospital.
Well I'll try.
"Damn you. Witton doesn't give you a private plane unless you're really banged up. I guess you expect me to nurse you back to health."
"Please."
"Hawaii, the island of Kauai. Were you hurt bad enough to fly there?"
"I'll be there in a couple of days. I'll let you know when. Another Kazak will be flying with me. I'm not sure where he intends to go."
"Probably as far away from you as he can get."
***
Mithra and I boarded the Gulfstream early in the morning three days later. Kathryn welcomed us at the door.
"Mr. Mithra. May I get you something before we depart? I think I know what Miss Lynn will want. She's a frequent flyer."
"I thought long and hard before I decided to fly with her. I'm still not sure whether I made the right decision. Make it coffee and a tranquilizer," Mithra said.
"We'll cross our fingers and hope." Kathryn went off and we found seats.
"I haven't had time to ask, but where are you going?" I asked.
"Do you mind dropping me off in Miami? I've a girlfriend-or was it two?-there."
"No. I think I'll stay overnight, since the pilots will need their rest. I could use another day to heal before seeing my friend in Colorado." Mithra and I exchanged bits of our early lives over a juicy steak dinner. I was very tired of fish after my month-long Muslim diet. I called Clare to let her know that I would be arriving the next day.