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was an integral part of our training. Like it does for Taoist monks, this meditation enabled us to withstand pain and remain functional. It enhanced our senses of sight, hearing, and smell, and allowed us to maintain control of our emotions under stress. I loved my many hours spent there. It was the forge that shaped the person I became.
    When we entered the building, the witch Meztlil sat in the middle of the room on a stone bench. She was wrapped in a black cape and hood that obscured everything except her eyes. We had been told about Meztlil. She was the one who named you, and in so doing enhanced your inherent abilities. Typical Kazak dominant attributes were the Lion for strength, the Cheetah for speed, the Panther for stealth, and the Tiger for fighting. She pointed at Cory.
    "Cory, come kneel before me and remove your shirt." Her voice was clear, yet only a whisper. For a long time after Cory had knelt, she sat there quietly staring at him. Then she took his left arm and laid it in her lap. Using one of her long black fingernails, she began drawing. After what seemed like hours, she sat back and scrutinized his arm. She then covered the area with her hand and closed her eyes. I could see Cory straining with all his considerable control to keep from screaming. Given our training the pain must have been unbearable.
    "I name you Cory the Lion."
    I knew from the masters that Meztlil had somehow tattooed a Kazak badge onto his forearm. The tattoo would be in shades of gray and contain four scrolls: in the top scroll the word Kazak ; in the second scroll Cory with a lion's head below it; in the third scroll Guardian ; and in the last scroll a number unique to each Kazak-his Diplomatic Agent number.
    She waved him away and pointed to Jessie. When she had finished his tattoo, she announced, "I name you Jessie the Tiger."
    That didn't surprise me. Jessie was a ferocious fighter. He epitomized the metaphor about catching a tiger by the tail.
    Then she nodded to me. I approached and knelt, hoping to be named a Panther. She stared at me for a long time-an eternity. I wondered if she had fallen asleep. Then she smiled.
    "No, Lynn. You do not have the stealth to be a Panther, the strength for a Lion, the speed for a Cheetah, or the fighting tenacity of a Tiger."
    I panicked. Was this another test? Had I failed the final challenge? Bile rose in my throat. My mind was in turmoil as she took my arm and began drawing. What was she drawing? The pain caught me off guard, and I almost screamed as it ripped through my chest and into my brain.
    "I name you Lynn the Fox. Your talent, Lynn, is cunning. It enabled you to successfully climb to the top of the Hill and to survive against all odds."
    ***

    While we stood on the landing pad waiting for the helicopter, I pulled up my sleeve to examine the tattoo.
    The Kazak Security Services organization was created in the late 1920s by eight immigrants from the Kazakh steppes. During the violent '30s, they earned a reputation as the premier bodyguard company for high-profile politicians and businessmen. As the demand for their services grew, they were forced to hire additional help. Although they had a rigorous screening process, they found the new hires couldn't live up to the Kazakh's high standards. In the end, they were forced to start their own one-year-long school. In the '40s, they increased the training to two years in length and their reputation as elite guards grew. Sometime in the '70s, they were adopted by a mysterious group, which provided them with diplomatic immunity. Their name changed to the Kazak Guardians and they were no longer available to the general public.
    Because of the high-profile people the new organization guarded, the gold-colored nickel badges of the old Kazak Security Services, which could easily be cloned, were abandoned and replaced with a tattoo on the left forearm.
    I couldn't stop starring at it. Inside an oval, light-gray shield surrounded by oak leaves were the