words Kazak , Lynn , Guardian , and my Diplomatic Agent number-231. And in the middle was the beautifully inked head of a fox. It meant that I had entered the world of my dreams.
The chop-chop of the incoming 'copter broke my musing.
It was finally my time to leave on a helicopter, but I wasn't being dismissed. I was going to work.
CHAPTER FOUR
Jessie, Cory, and I were flown by helicopter to the Spokane International Airport. We talked very little, entranced by our new tattoos. It was no wonder. We had endured unimaginable pain and stress, survived the five challenges, and sacrificed nine years of our lives to earn those tattoos and be called Kazaks.
At the airport, we were led onto the tarmac where a white Gulfstream sat glistening in the sun. On the aircraft's tail were the letters KG in black. As we entered the plane, an attractive woman in her early thirties met us, wearing a light beige suit and a plain white blouse. She had a trim figure, auburn hair, green eyes, and a sunny smile.
"Welcome aboard, Kazaks. My name is Kathryn. You may sit anywhere you want. Who'd dare argue with you?" she gave us a cheerful grin. "Besides, you're our only passengers. I'll be back in a moment to get you whatever you'd like to drink. And after we've reached cruising altitude, I'll serve dinner."
"What do you think, Lynn?" Jessie said, as he settled into one of the plush leather seats. Cory stood in the middle of the aisle, his mouth hanging open. I flopped down on the couch across from Jessie.
"I think we've died and this plane is our chariot to heaven."
"You know what they say," Cory said, still looking around. "Wait until you get the bill."
After a fillet mignon dinner and a glass of red wine, I fell asleep. A light tap on my arm brought me to full alertness-my mind assessed my surroundings, my body came to life, and hands were poised to act. To the casual observer, I had merely opened my eyes. I smiled at Kathryn.
"Please fasten your seatbelt and return your seat to an upright position. We are on our approach to Richmond International," she said with a warm smile. I noticed Jessie and Cory were already awake and their seats in an upright position.
A limo waited as we exited the plane and drove us into the city of Richmond, Virginia. An hour later, we stood in front of an eight-story, red-brick building.
"What do you think?" I asked as we entered the building. It looked like a high-end condo complex complete with a reception desk, large lounge, elevators, and a security guard.
"I think it's our new home," Cory said. "I did a little research at the school before we left. Although it looks like a condo complex, the seventh floor is dedicated to Kazak operations. On the first floor there is a swimming pool, workout room, and dining facility. The other six floors are two-bedroom suites. One is assigned to each Kazak."
"Your friend is right," a young man standing behind the marble counter said. "If you will sign in over here, I'll get you checked in."
We were each given the key to our new unit and a package, which gave information about the building and its facilities. It also included a welcome letter and instructions to report to a Mr. Witton at 8:00 a.m. the next morning.
My unit was located on the fourth floor. I stood in the doorway speechless, staring into the- my -living room. The walls were beige, the couch and recliner were fawn-colored leather, the rug was a plush light brown, the tables were a rich cherry, and a large LCD television hung on one wall. It was too much to absorb.
I walked around my new condo, inspected each room, sat on each piece of furniture, looked in the refrigerator, which was well stocked, and soaked in the bathtub for an hour. There were even clothes in the closet, clothes which fit surprisingly well. Later that evening, I lay in my queen-sized bed content for the first time in my life.
***
Close to eight the next morning, I rode the elevator to the seventh floor. When I exited, I saw
The chop-chop of the incoming 'copter broke my musing.
It was finally my time to leave on a helicopter, but I wasn't being dismissed. I was going to work.
CHAPTER FOUR
Jessie, Cory, and I were flown by helicopter to the Spokane International Airport. We talked very little, entranced by our new tattoos. It was no wonder. We had endured unimaginable pain and stress, survived the five challenges, and sacrificed nine years of our lives to earn those tattoos and be called Kazaks.
At the airport, we were led onto the tarmac where a white Gulfstream sat glistening in the sun. On the aircraft's tail were the letters KG in black. As we entered the plane, an attractive woman in her early thirties met us, wearing a light beige suit and a plain white blouse. She had a trim figure, auburn hair, green eyes, and a sunny smile.
"Welcome aboard, Kazaks. My name is Kathryn. You may sit anywhere you want. Who'd dare argue with you?" she gave us a cheerful grin. "Besides, you're our only passengers. I'll be back in a moment to get you whatever you'd like to drink. And after we've reached cruising altitude, I'll serve dinner."
"What do you think, Lynn?" Jessie said, as he settled into one of the plush leather seats. Cory stood in the middle of the aisle, his mouth hanging open. I flopped down on the couch across from Jessie.
"I think we've died and this plane is our chariot to heaven."
"You know what they say," Cory said, still looking around. "Wait until you get the bill."
After a fillet mignon dinner and a glass of red wine, I fell asleep. A light tap on my arm brought me to full alertness-my mind assessed my surroundings, my body came to life, and hands were poised to act. To the casual observer, I had merely opened my eyes. I smiled at Kathryn.
"Please fasten your seatbelt and return your seat to an upright position. We are on our approach to Richmond International," she said with a warm smile. I noticed Jessie and Cory were already awake and their seats in an upright position.
A limo waited as we exited the plane and drove us into the city of Richmond, Virginia. An hour later, we stood in front of an eight-story, red-brick building.
"What do you think?" I asked as we entered the building. It looked like a high-end condo complex complete with a reception desk, large lounge, elevators, and a security guard.
"I think it's our new home," Cory said. "I did a little research at the school before we left. Although it looks like a condo complex, the seventh floor is dedicated to Kazak operations. On the first floor there is a swimming pool, workout room, and dining facility. The other six floors are two-bedroom suites. One is assigned to each Kazak."
"Your friend is right," a young man standing behind the marble counter said. "If you will sign in over here, I'll get you checked in."
We were each given the key to our new unit and a package, which gave information about the building and its facilities. It also included a welcome letter and instructions to report to a Mr. Witton at 8:00 a.m. the next morning.
My unit was located on the fourth floor. I stood in the doorway speechless, staring into the- my -living room. The walls were beige, the couch and recliner were fawn-colored leather, the rug was a plush light brown, the tables were a rich cherry, and a large LCD television hung on one wall. It was too much to absorb.
I walked around my new condo, inspected each room, sat on each piece of furniture, looked in the refrigerator, which was well stocked, and soaked in the bathtub for an hour. There were even clothes in the closet, clothes which fit surprisingly well. Later that evening, I lay in my queen-sized bed content for the first time in my life.
***
Close to eight the next morning, I rode the elevator to the seventh floor. When I exited, I saw
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