Short Story: G.o.d Part Iv

Short Story: G.o.d Part Iv

This piece has not been edited by the ShortbreadStories team.

The Jackass woke up because she thought she had heard a sound. First opening only one eye without changing position, she opened the second one three seconds later and her vision was clear, aided by the spill from the lights along the paved walkways linking the cabins to each other and to the other areas of the hotel. She always slept with a gun in her hand, cocked but with the safety on. She now pretended to turn in her sleep and quickly pulled the hammer down as she dived off the bed and softly landed on her shoulder before coming up in a crouch in the space between the double bed and the wall.

From the corner of her eye she noticed her travelling bedside clock was talking about 4.30 am being the time. A quick calculation told her she had slept for almost six hours already. She stayed still for a moment, her eyes scanning the bedroom area. Slowly creeping forward, she peeped from the corner of the bed and thought she could see a shape in the sitting room area in one of the chairs, looking asleep.

The shape shifted, changing position from left to right and one foot banged on the coffee table near it. She almost fired, but then paused. The figure seemed to be fast asleep and that puzzled her. For the life of her she couldn’t imagine anyone coming to sleep in her room.

A quickly discarded thought told her it was possible this could be a genie thing but genies did not go around taking naps in darkened rooms of urban hotels. Then again, most rich men tended to put a lot of stock in the belief that they would make more money if they sacrificed human beings or got genies assigned to make them money. Many were the stories about certain hotels and mansion having creatures that walked their corridors at night, banging doors or switching off lights; sometimes whipping occupants. She also remembered the mythical creatures were said to be afraid of gunshots. Well, she had a gun and so she could make gunshots whenever she felt the need to.

Getting onto her stomach, she crawled toward the figure and got to within two feet. Near the creature`s head was a table lamp on a reading table. Leaning over carefully, she reached forward and switched on the lamp, her gun inches from the creature`s forehead, which in the harsh light turned out to be Miss Langley.

The light woke her up and she cursed as she sat up shielding her face.

“You know I could have shot you in that stupid face of yours?” How the hell did you get in?”

Yawning without covering her mouth, Trudy blinked several times and then nodded at one of the windows. On inspection, the Jackass found that the metal bars on three sides of the window had been `eaten` away by some corrosive material, probably high grade industrial acid. The bar sheet had then been `lifted` up to afford entry after which it had been pulled down.

“Does your dual citizenship also make you privy to info such as willful damage to private property, something that can carry up to ten years in the slammer?”

“Hey, I`m very sorry but I had to get in without waking you. I am in a lot of trouble.”

“I don’t think being burned is carte blanche for you to put in a position where I almost shot you. Suppose I had heard you sneaking in? My life is complicated enough without having to explain to two governments why a just burned spy happened to be laying dead in my hotel room.”

“One of those governments would have paid you for your trouble,” Trudy said and Assimwe realized the girl was scared.

She dropped a few notches on the raving and asked gently, “Okay, let` s have it head on.”

“There is good news and bad news. Which one do you prefer hearing first.”

The newly-former agent hugged herself and the Jackass realized another thing; she was not only scared, she was cold, probably the reason for tossing and turning. The hotel, right on the banks of the Nile, got pretty cold from about midnight to eight in the morning.

“Let`s have the good news first, it always helps cushion one when the bad news hits.”

The Jackass pushed the safety on and put the gun in the waistline of her pajamas before sitting down in the loveseat next to Trudy`s sofa.

“The Company has put out a contract on me,” she laughed bitterly.

“And that`s the good news? But why are they doing this? Has their embarrassment been that great that a life of one of their own has to be laid on the sacrificial altar? And anyhow, how did you know about it?”

“An asset told me. I don’t know what Stiltham told his boss, or what his boss told Langley but soon as I left the High Commissioner`s office the word went out.”

“I`m so sorry, Trudy, I really am. But what are you doing here if there is a tag on your head? Don’t you guys usually run to Russia or Venezuela and live your lives out pottering or running cheap bars?”

“I want to try and fight this but for that to happen, I need you to help me. I know you have many powerful people who owe you or are just indebted to you or are grateful for something you did or did not to for or to them. Please help me. My career and life are being sacrificed so the CIA comes out clean.”

Trudy rocked a little then curled her legs under and intently stared at the Jackass unblinkingly, a pleading desperate look on her face.

“We weren’t supposed to be spying on our friends and allies, so now the egg on the agency`s face is being blamed on me. I have been labeled a rogue agent who acted on my own and without sanction. Please help me.”

“I`m not promising anything at all because one cannot fight governments, but let`s hear the bad news now, maybe that will cheer me up,” she smiled briefly.

“The CIA has another five million dollar contract out, but this time for my head. And the wording is clear, they want me dead.”

“Okay, go to the bed and lay down a while, we leave in two hours. I need to make some calls.”

The Jackass dialed a number and a voice on the other end asked her what she was calling about.

“I sell fish, sir,” she responded. The voice told her it was a wrong number and the line went dead. The Jackass hung up and waited. Forty five seconds later her phone rang. She identified herself.

“Connect me to the Premier please,” she said.

Without any questions or delay, she was put through to a kibbutz a few kilometers from the Lebanon border under which was an elaborate and fortified bunker where no one in their sane mind would go looking for the Israeli premier.

The old man greeted her warmly and asked her what she needed.

“CIA has sanctioned a hit on a friend of mine just because they are covering up their embarrassment at the Brits discovering they had bugged a Rolex donated to the Ambassador. She can be a very useful asset and she is a young and very talented young woman with the right background and training.”

“My daughter, why would I want to go against the Americans on this? Governments are always killing their people for reasons that many consider flimsy.”

“That`s okay, except word is that they intend to lay the blame on the reckless Jews.”

“Oh, that would be very unfortunate. Let me get the Mossad on it ASAP. Thank you, I will be in touch. You will need two hours off any radar before my efforts start to bear fruit.”

“Thank you, sir. Shalom.”

“Shalom, daughter.”

After she hang up, she called the commander of Special Forces Group, the division responsible for protecting the Ugandan President.

“Morning, sir,” she said brightly.

“You still haven’t polished your timing, have you?” answered the sleepy voice.

“Please tell the President a very valuable young woman is about to be killed on the orders of the CIA, who will blame it on an ESO agent under Mossad control. If he does not move quickly to help the Americans change their minds we are looking at funny news print. I can imagine the headlines where our major oil partner is setting us up with our development partners. The American and other white tourists will shun this country, big businesses will pack up and leave and that will hurt our economy.” She cleared her voice and continued. “We can help save this life and our investments, at the same time keeping our friends and allies. If we don’t move within two hours, she and any nearby by standers, are dead.”

“Okay, what do you want me to tell dad?” asked the First Son.

“Tell him to tell the Americans in no uncertain terms to lift the hit and leave this young woman alone. Let them smooth over the feathers of the Brits in another way.”

“They are doing this because the Brits are ruffled?!”

“Pure and simple.”

“I`m waking up Ruhemba Ogw` Enjura, if he is not up meeting some group or other. Thanks for calling.”

The line went dead. Ruhemba Ogw` Enjura was a nick name the president had given himself while still in the jungles of the Luweero Triangle. It meant one who lights fire even after a storm…or something like that anyway.

She next called the Director of what many people were led to believe was a now defunct organization, KGB.

“What if I told you a young woman`s life was in danger and to save it all you needed to do was two things.”

“A good morning to you too, Jackass. What is the first?”

“Accept a million dollars posted to any account anywhere within thirty minutes.”

“That sounds lovely. So what`s the catch?” asked the American-born Russian who had worked as a double agent for the KGB after being recruited by the CIA while at NYU.

“You tell your CIA buddies that Trudy Kwaso, a Ugandan American, is off limits and is an asset for you and the Ugandan government.”

“Sounds simple and easy enough. Someone will be with you shortly to pick up my cash, in cash.”

“Nyet problem, Comrade.”

She then called the Chinese Chief of Staff and the conversation went on similar tangent. After she hang up, she realized that the charity she was looking for earlier had turned out to be a young Ugandan American and she was now two million dollars poorer.

Ten minutes later she woke Trudy and in fifteen minutes they were leaving the hotel. At a deserted spot along the Iganga-Jinja Highway, a small Japanese overtook and blocked her, forcing her to stamp on her breaks. A black male got out and approached, in his hands a submachine gun.

As the Jackass pulled her own weapon, a second car, European, drew up alongside, blocking most of the road and two white guys, holding AK assault rifles got out and pointed their guns not at the Escalade as she expected, but at the black man from the Japanese.

Speaking in Russian accented English, they told the black man that the KGB, Mossad, ESO and Chinese national intelligence still valued their assets, who happened to be in the vehicle he was pointing a rifle at.

“Do you really think the CIA can protect you from all those organizations? Now get into your car and leave, and tell everybody Trudy Kwaso and Jackline Assimwe are indispensable assets of those organizations, and their governments.”

The man got into his car and turned it around, a puzzled look on his face. One of the men then approached and gently tapped on Assimwe`s window. She gingerly rolled it down, half expecting it to be a trap of some sort.

“Sergei Grushchev sends his regards. And asked me to collect a small something from you?”

The Jackass, keeping her eye on the man, another on his companion, and a third on the driver, asked Trudy to please give the Russian a million dollars from the stash she had earlier given her. While the other girl was counting out the money, the Jackass rolled up her window so the nearest guy couldn’t see in. she did not think it prudent to show anyone an attaché case full of dollars.

When Trudy was done, the Jackass again rolled down her window and handed over ten bundles of a hundred grand each. The comrades left and the girls continued with their journey. At Magamaga, she turned right and instead went into the barracks half a kilometer from the highway.

“For now, we shall be guests of the commandant but I have to warn,” said the Jackass.

“What`s wrong?” the other girl was even sounding more apprehensive.

“The commandant is a very virile man and you might end up choosing between staying safe here while pleasuring him and huffing and puffing out of here to try your luck out there because I gotta tell you American, my strings will need at least forty eight hours to start being strung.”

“I`m not a virgin, and as long as he accepts to use protection I will play ball. But I warn you, if he doesn’t, I will kill him before he fucks me live.”

“As you should, my girl. But he is a decent sort actually and you will like him. In two days` time, the CIA will have better things to worry about.”