Life as a New Hire Ch. 25

"Just checked. I remain the only one unarmed in my personal carnival of carnage..." my words trailed up to an unintelligible mumble.

I was mumbling because suddenly four handguns were casually offered up for my use (Tiger Lily was holding one over her shoulder as she drove), in the same way you'd offer up some Nicorette to a man jonesing for a smoke. Rachel was kind enough to hand me my familiar Glock-22 and Ruger .38 with their accompanying holsters. Two spare clips followed, then I stashed the lot. I scratched my calf. It took me a second to realize I was reaching for my pistol.

No, not the one at my hip, or my ankle, but the one...in my boot?

"Now that you've been handed firearms of dubious origin, can I get back to questioning you," the FBI agent intruded upon my ruminations. "We were discussing that list of people that are visiting a morgue instead of a court room. What can you tell me?"

"Bye Nicole. Miss you. Being interrogated by a blonde FBI lady with a whips scar on her eyebrow and eyes that could scare a badger back into its hole. Later," I cut of my lawyer's fierce demand that I keep my mouth shut. "Nothing useful that wouldn't implicate myself and others in a criminal conspiracy," I answered her.

"There is no way I'd name anyone else I suspect of involvement. I feel no guilt over what has happened, so no remorseful confession, and that is based on my belief that cosmic justice has been achieved."

"You can't create lists of people for execution," Maddox persisted. "That negates the whole justice system and the principle of innocent until proven guilty."

Wow! Except for the two of us, every other person in the car snorted their derision of Maddox's presumptive naiveté.

"Do you even believe the tripe spilling from your pie-hole?" Delilah mocked Maddox.

"I'm in law enforcement. That means I enforce the laws, not interpret them, or choose which ones I want to obey and which ones to ignore," Virginia fought back.

"Love, that's crap and you know it. You are an agent of the US government. You bomb, drone-strike, overthrow lawfully elected governments and assassinate in your nation's best interests," Delilah countered. "You selectively enforce your Constitution when it suits you."

"I'm law enforcement, not the military or foreign affairs. Know the difference," Maddox glared.

"The pay master is the same ... you willingly collect your thirty pieces of silver; get off your high horse because you are in the shat now, Agent Maddox. I haven't known this crowd an hour and I know for a fact that you are the only US citizen onboard," Delilah chortled. "I don't know their bleeding nationality, but I doubt it is on the UN Charter." Maddox turned to me.

"That was succinct and rather accurate," I murmured. "Special Agent Maddox, I have the sneaking suspicion that you are with us because FP (federal prosecutor) Castello feels you can handle this...ummm...unusual set of circumstance. I promise you this – it is going to get worse."

"Why don't we test this quaint theory?" FBI Lass challenged us.

"Jail – bail – and I'm waking up in Rio de Janeiro in two days," I sighed. "I have a few thousand in the bank, live in a hole and own my father's home...when it clears probate. Only you know I'm flight risk. A dozen people will vouch/lie about my character and that's that. All you've succeeding in doing is making enemies when you need friends."

"There is still a matter of multiple people dead under suspicious circumstance," she said.

"Imagine for a second that Cáel admits to creating a hit list," Pamela began. "He would never give up the names of the other people involved. He didn't kill anyone, or say 'kill them'. Now what? You still have an abysmal case to put before a judge. Add to that, the mitigating factor of a raped girl.

You get to break her down until she's a cooperating witness because she's the only one who can provide you with Cáel's motive," my mentor continued. "Good for you and your team. She gets to betray the man who tried to save her. Cáel promised horrific retribution if any of those in the now-dead crowd hurt her. That is rather unlike him – he normally forgives when given the least excuse.

I don't give a damn about women's rights, or the rights of rape victims. I really could give a shit about human rights for that matter. Wronging me is the surest way to early retirement. It is not a matter of strong versus weak, or right versus wrong. What matters to me is who I can trust. I don't know you, thus I don't trust you. I trust your government to be so much chicken shit.

I base this on the lack of public torture and execution. I want the families of dying criminals paraded in front of those cock-suckers before the condemned finally perish in agony. I want to see thieves get their forearms hacked off, trial by combat, and respect for your elders. I want to see public officials being sacrificed upon the altar of Jehovah when they leave office.

I want to see a system of justice with a soul, not law books thicker than an aircraft carrier's hull. A government 'of the People, by the People, for the People' should be the sole guiding force for your culture and we both know that's never going to happen. I admire your soldiers; not because they are brave and combat effective – they are.

I admire them because they are fighting and dying for elected officials and a population that can't locate Afghanistan, or Iraq on a map, can't tell the difference between a Sikh and a Muslim, and thinks 'Pashtun' is an exotic piece of furniture. I admire them because they are better human beings despite you, not because of you," Pamela was coming to her crescendo.

"Basically you people – by that I mean most of the human race – are dangerous in your idiocy, arrogance and pride in your ignorance. Not one of you should be allowed to use weapons, or play with fire. For you, unrestricted voting is a crime right up there with inventing, disease prevention, bilingualism and anything that perpetuates your educational system."

"Lady, why are you so angry with the world?" Maddox studied Pamela intensely. I wished her luck with divining and then unwrapping that lady's mind.

"I hold dear to my heart anyone's hunger to learn, honesty when it hurts and love no matter what the cost, so I find myself alone most of the time," Pamela grinned. "Above even those, I adore humor in the face of ridicule, condemnation and adversity.

You can dodge bullets and parry knives. Humor always strikes home," she finished. "It is the perfect weapon."

"Liar," I smiled. "You like high performance automobiles too." Did she? I didn't know.

"Only with a 2X4 pressing the accelerator as it races toward the lip of a canyon," Pamela bantered back, "with Ursula K. Le Guin strapped in the back seat."

"Who?" I inquired.

"She's an author. I take exception to some of her work and unwillingness to appreciate the fusion of exceptional feminine characteristics with power positions," Pamela answered.

"And your critique of her life's work is an exploding car at the bottom of a cliff?" I smiled.

"Starting uncontrolled wildfires and littering – two of my favorite activities," she laughed.

"I'll stick with blondes and brunettes...and red- and raven-haired...bald has its own appeal...green and purple have their own kink going on..." I joked.

"Wait! We were talking about people being murdered and you two are cracking jokes?" Maddox rumbled.

"I had a dream about tying them together with nylon cord and tossing them off the back ramp of a transport aircraft...and watching them fall...and fall," Rachel sighed dreamily.

"Atta girl," I play-punched Rachel's shoulder.

"What is your part in all of this?" Maddox turned to Rachel.

"I'm the head of his bodyguard detail," Rachel gave her confession of the damned.

"And you want to kill him..." Virginia struggled to keep up.

"Given time, you will too," Rachel promised. "According to his pre-employment records, only one woman he's had a sexual relationship with hasn't wanted to at least hurt him," glaring at me, "badly."

"The nun doesn't want me dead!" I vocally protested.

"It is so wrong that you are proud that of over 200 women you've slept with – TWO have not, at some point in knowing you, wanted to maul you and one of those is in the 'forgiving' business," Rachel chastised me. Virginia had an answer for my madness. Her phone came out and she hit speed-dial – work.

"Ms. Castello, this is Special Agent Maddox, do you have a moment?" Virginia calmly asked when she finally wrangled my current-favorite fed's attention. "You do now? Thank you. I'd like to know what the fuck have you done to me? This assignment is nuts. Either I'm part of some elaborate prank, or I'm in an SUV with escapees from the looney bin." Ten seconds later Maddox gave me the phone.

"Stop it. I've upheld my end of the bargain, so behave," Javiera ordered. Man, she'd shot me straight to the core and we hadn't even slept together yet. Clever, clever girl.

"Yes Ma'am," I swore. "I'll do my best to buffer Special Agent Maddox from the truth."

"I'll have to accept that," Javiera conceded. "Give Maddox the phone back."

A brief conversation later and Maddox was no better off than when she started. Thankfully we parked in front of the Kazakhstan Consulate in New York, giving us all an excuse to face facts. Maddox was feeling compelled to ask questions she didn't want the answers to, and that we didn't want to answer. Saved by work.

"Kazakhstan Consulate? Why are we here?" both Virginia and Rachel asked.

"Oh! This is going to be good," Pamela leaned forward excitedly.

"Change the course of human history," I answered with a great deal of confidence I didn't feel. See, I had knowledge critical to the Earth & Sky.

That knowledge was also something they wanted kept compartmentalized, so they might take exception to it being possessed by an outsider. Oh... so that's why Pamela earlier insisted on four ladies being with me – so we could shoot our way out if things turned ugly. I hugged my mentor.

"Thank you, Pamela."

"You are coming along nicely, Mr. Potter," Pamela patted my cheek.

"Your praise leaves me suspicious, Professor Snape. Besides, if I'm going to die, it helps me to know you'll go first ."

"That was uncalled for," Pamela chided me. It was the 'Snape' role she rejected.

"Snape gave up his life for Harry, Dumbledore died for Draco," I countered.

"Well, let's hope it doesn't come to that," Pamela shone with joy and pride.

"You act like I have a choice," I sighed.

"Touché," Pamela nodded.

"I see what you mean about these two," Maddox addressed Rachel.

"Oh my God," Delilah laughed. "You wove Harry Potter into a life and death conversation and it made sense. I am probably going to die, but I'll die knowing I have lived."

"Not you too?" Maddox glared at Delilah. Rachel just shook her head. We exited the car, settled ourselves out. Rachel took point, Delilah took one flank while Pamela took the other.

By happenstance, I ended up in the middle...yeah right, with Virginia covering my back.

"You stay here," Pamela put a hand on Rachel's shoulder. "You'll need to lead the team in if someone 'pumps up the volume'." Interesting euphemism for 'when people start killing people'.

"What are we doing today?" Miyako 'appeared'. She'd been walking down the sidewalk toward us – the Kazak Consulate was a townhouse – but her presence hadn't registered.

"I require your pledge of silence on what is to transpire. No death is intended," I stated calmly to Miyako.

"I didn't know you were versed in ninja contracts, much less spoke Japanese?" Miyako responded. Blink.

"I didn't know I spoke it either..." I mumbled.

"No sweat," Pamela tried to hustle us along. "He's a quick study." Yeah. I didn't feel it apropos to point out I hadn't heard myself speaking Japanese, or understood that my words had some secret meaning.

"How important is this to my people?" Miyako asked. Now that I was paying attention to it, I could make out that she was speaking in her native tongue.

"If they don't think we can be trusted to not speak of what is to transpire for a week, they are going to kill us," I related my suspicions. "My mind and heart are joined in this decision."

"I give you my pledge," Miyako nodded. She looped her arm in mine.

"Does anyone care to enlighten me?" Maddox prodded. Whoa. It seemed that, beside me and Miyako, only Pamela spoke Japanese.

"Special Agent Maddox, no matter what, don't give up your gun, when we say run – run, and shoot to kill because they will be trying to kill us," I informed her.

"Does the term 'extraterritoriality' mean anything to anyone here?" Maddox snapped. Her nervousness was totally understandable.

I stopped at the top of the steps, looking over my shoulder. I nodded. Pamela, Delilah and Miyako nodded as well.

"Hold on...I can't believe I'm saying this. Does anyone have a back-up I can use?" Maddox groaned.

Rachel quick-stepped forward and handed over a .22 automatic pistol then a spare clip with a smooth, practiced motion that suggested that SD swapped weapons all the time. Maddox didn't miss the casualness of the gesture. The firearm and magazine disappeared.

"Fine...we will never discuss the laws we just butchered – ever...and if I die and any of you make it out alive, I will seek revenge at whatever cost FROM WHEREVER I AM," FBI girl growled.

"One of us," Pamela smirked at me as I touched the doorbell. It opened promptly. We weren't on a crowded street, we were on their stoop and a security camera was pointed right at us. We were invited in and two rather Caucasian-looking gentlemen (Kazaks are a mixed bag of Turks and Cumans) were waiting with the doorman. They looked tough in that they took personality lessons from saddle leather.

"You will place your weapons there," the more charismatic of the two spoke up. He was pointing to a side table that looked large enough for the task.

"No," was the most courteous response I could muster. He didn't look surprised. He didn't look much like he was breathing, or blinking either.

"Go," he pointed to the door. I looked to Pamela.

"Well, that didn't take long," I grinned. I felt out the necklace under my shirt and pulled it over my head. "Please return this to its owner in the spirit it was given." He took it. The doorman opened the door and out we went. Rachel was back in our GL550, using the door as possible cover. She said we could take our seats and away we rolled. Maddox looked apoplectic.

She had prepared herself for the Wild, Wild West, not a doe-see-doe at the door. In her mind, I had wound her up for nothing. My phone rang.

"Cáel Ishara, there seems to have been a diplomatic miscommunication," a male native Turkish-speaker said in heavily accented English. "The person you are meeting must be approached in the spirit of peace."

"No, I understood you perfectly," I assured him. "We aren't the Brownies, or the Girl Scouts, Buddy. I don't know, or trust you and you don't know, or trust me – yet. I will compromise though. I will respect your traditions. I will enter your home unarmed. In turn, everyone in the building will line up outside on the street except for the person I'm supposed to meet. Is that acceptable?"

Pause.

"Do you hate these people, or like them?" Maddox grumbled. "With you, I can't quite tell."

"That would not be acceptable," the man finally responded. "Perhaps an alternative. You come in, alone yet armed."

"Nope. Due to the efforts of people far smarter than me, I know pretty much who I am meeting, so I am either very rude, insane, or bear a message that is worth my life," I countered.

"Your personal safety is guaranteed," was the counter-offer.

"That is a false promise – not because you lack honor, or respect for me, but because you are from a wise and noble lineage with a historical propensity of cutting to the heart of any problem."

By that, I meant they'd cut my heart out. "What I expect is for every one of you to hold the future of the Earth & Sky above any such concepts as personal promises, hospitality, and honor. I am even putting my faith in your willingness to put the survival of the Earth & Sky over your own well-being," I riposted.

"If the message is so crucial, you should be willing to come alone," back at me.

"It isn't important to me," I stated. "Listen, a war is about to break out. Unless we both want to be found all alone in the outhouse masturbating when the headsman comes, one of us has to blink. Today, it is you. Tomorrow you may be able to return the favor and mess with my head."

Pause.

"Your koumiss is getting warm."

"We'll be right there. We apologize for the delay. Traffic is murder these days, or a close facsimile thereof," I gave a little back in the humility department.

"Tiger Lily..."

"On it, Ishara...Wakko Ishara. I've been circling the block," Tiger Lily had anticipated my antics. Sure, I acted like I had no game plan, but I never wasted people's time. Maybe if I developed an actual game plan I could do even better.

"Wakko Ishara?" it was Delilah's and Maddox's turn to share a 'what the?' moment.

"May I explain the sacred names?" Rachel requested of me. "I have a feeling these two might become a fixture."

"By all means, Rachel. Our trust runs deep," I trusted Rachel with more than my life; I trusted her with my future.

"Wakko, as in you're the nutty one?" Delilah made a stab at our arcane nomenclature. If you use small words does that make it gnomenclature? Pamela winked at me...psychic twin grandmother powers activate!

"We need complementary rings," Pamela remarked. Sweet!

"Cáel Ishara is differentiated as Wakko Ishara, Ishara, first of House Ishara, is Yakko Ishara, and..." Rachel began.

"The Animaniacs? Your code names are the Warner Brothers and their sister Dot?" Maddox gasped. "You are beyond nuts."

"And the Goddess Ishara is named, by House Ishara and House Ishara alone," Rachel made some warding appeal against divine punishment, "as Dot Ishara." Maddox's face shown with disbelief.

"Following Cáel Ishara into battle has been one of my greatest pleasures," Rachel stared at Maddox. "I never knew insanity could be so liberating, or that laughing at death could be such an aphrodisiac."

"When did you two go into battle?" Delilah wondered.

"In a morgue, fighting to retrieve the body of his fallen father so that our enemies could not desecrate it," Rachel explained. Ah...the walls of Troy...fighting over the spoils of the dead.

"You mean when I face-planted?" I grinned at Rachel.

"Even without a weapon, your instincts were good, forcing our enemy to commit to multiple angles of coverage even though your efforts were foiled by a footing failure. Your rushing their leader was even more heroic in that you were unarmed and using your body as a decoy, knowing your enemy's superior skill would stop him from shooting you," Rachel smiled my way – sex.

"Let me get this straight," Miyako finally spoke up. "You charged an enemy unarmed then stumbled and failed. They were armed?"

"Yes, with a .357 Magnum revolver and a 10 gauge sawed-off automatic shotgun – in tight confines and close range...oh, and no cover." Maddox replied – then to me, "I read the report."

"Then you repeated the action a few minutes..." Miyako.

"Less than a minute later," Maddox clarified.

"A minute later...wow! You are as fearless as we've heard. Please don't die before we have a baby," Miyako gave me a quick hug. If you cover a zeppelin with uranium paint, can it still fly, or does it sink to the center of the Earth? Ninja babies...

We had returned to the stairs at the Consulate. This time the door swung open upon our approach.

"Is there some drug you are all taking to bask in this shared fantasy life?" Maddox mumbled.