Black Mamba

by Tierney James

  “Still, there could be someone who didn’t return. Possibly escaped. Maybe more than one.” Tessa scooted closer, again, and whispered, “Wouldn’t it be amazing if a relative still existed? I would love that for Handsome.”

  Chase frowned. “You two are a little too chummy for my taste. And you are too trusting. Let me refresh your memory about how he left us to die at Lake Tahoe.”

  “He didn’t know there would be an avalanche,” she defended.

  “Maybe. But keep in mind he worked dark ops for the CIA, not that he admits to any of that, and he has a reputation for violence. He isn’t the sweet guy you’re imagining. Not much of what he’s told you is true. Remember, he lured you to Tahoe with a false narrative and you could’ve been in serious trouble. What am I saying? You ended up in the lake with the car nose down.”

  “Did I ever thank you for saving me?”

  “Not properly. No,” he fumed. “You think everyone has some good in them and to be honest, I’ve seen very few who do.”

  “Maybe you need a break from Enigma because there are many good people out there.”

  “Well, besides you, I doubt it.”

  Tessa stared at him. “I’m not that good anymore,” she said softly. “Remember what I did in Afghanistan?”

  “I remember you saved a bunch of little girls from the Taliban. The cost didn’t matter.” He let his voice quiet. “Handsome is still using you to get what he wants. We have the diamond, and he needs it to give Baboloki the boot.” He took a deep breath. “Who do you think the woman was? I’m betting you have some wackadoodle theory.”

  “Not sure. But maybe…”

  “Here it comes. Drum roll.”

  “She was old enough to be Handsome’s mother or aunt. He has this haughty way he looks down his nose at you when he stiffens his shoulders then pooches out his lips.”

  Chased sighed but nodded.

  “She did the same thing. And she definitely looked like she was of the Tswana tribe.”

  “Tessa, almost everyone around here looks like they’re from the Tswana tribe—because they are,” he retorted.

  “Baboloki isn’t. He’s from South Africa, if I remember right—shorter, darker, and stockier. She was lovely, very lithe, and almost genteel.”

  “Don’t be putting ideas in Handsome’s head. He’s dangerous enough as it is.

  “At least we need to check it out.”

  He yawned again. “I’ll get the satellite phone up and running tomorrow. Vernon and Zoric can take care of that end. In the meantime—”

  “We should go to sleep.” She couldn’t suppress a yawn after watching him. Quiet rose up between them. “Chase?” she murmured.

  Silence.

  “Carter and Sam. Are they…”

  “They’re working. This isn’t a honeymoon.”

  “So, they aren’t…”

  “Having sex?”

  “Yeah. I mean, Carter is always on the make and, well, Sam is the poster child for nymphomaniac.”

  “I guess it could happen. Don’t care as long they do their job…” His voice faded.

  “Chase?”

  “I swear, Tessa, if you don’t go to sleep, I’m going to— Last question. Shoot.”

  “Do they think we’re having a—a fling while we’re here?”

  He chuckled. “Everyone thinks we’re having a fling, Tessa.” Another yawn.

  “And that doesn’t bother you?”

  “Nope.” He turned to face her again. “You know why? Because I think about it all the time.”

  “Oh. You do?” she whispered.

  “Don’t you?” His eyelids drooped.

  Tessa quickly moved away from his nearness. “Never.”

  “You’re a terrible liar, Tess.”

  Chapter Twelve

  A chubby woman dressed in a teal blouse and black skirt entered President Baboloki’s office. He glanced at a nearby mirror to watch her fuss with straightening his desk after setting a cup of hot tea on the table near where he had been standing to gaze out the French doors into the garden. A small embroidery pillow with rhinos, lions, and giraffes lay on the floor near the couch. Picking it up, she made eye contact with the president in the mirror then placed it the middle cushion.

  “I forwarded your itinerary to your computer, Mr. President. A new shipment of your favorite tea arrived, so I brought you a pot straightaway.”

  He glanced over at the fifty-something woman who wore her hair pulled back in a bun. The streaks of gray-and-black reminded him of a zebra. Her face remained smooth and clear even after staying by his side for so many years. Her devotion and loyalty, included spying on other employees who failed to live up to his expectations had been rewarded with a good income to support her seven children. She even kept an eye on Keeya for him and gave the woman small jobs of responsibility to keep her occupied and out of trouble.

  “Thank you, Naledi,” he said returning to his desk. “And how is Keeya this morning? She was very upset last night.”

  “I let her sleep in, Mr. President.” Naledi emptied an ashtray, removed a glass he’d used for bourbon the night before, and cleared the coffee table. “Should I wake her?”

  “Soon. There’s been a change of plans concerning my trip. I want to take Keeya with me. The change will do her good.”

  Naledi stopped and stared at him. “But, sir, she can’t be trusted not to run.”

  “She is too old to run, Naledi,” he offered patiently, ignoring her questioning his decision. “The election is coming up soon, and I want people to remember who she is to show that I have her support. The tribes may not appreciate my wife who wears designer clothes and jewelry. Her European ways tended to give the impression she thought herself better than the people of the bush and Kalahari. She never missed a chance to look down her nose at anyone who wasn’t part of the fashion world or Hollywood. Soon, I will have to replace her. My son will be better off with us. Has there been any word from my wife? Inform her I’ll be gone for a while if she wants to stay in Paris a few more days.”

  Naledi nodded. She had more often than once expressed appreciation of Keeya who played with the young boy and kept tutors on track with his education, unlike the wife. “I will always be available to help.”

  “Tell Keeya of my plans as well. We leave day after tomorrow. Change our reservations to include one more. When you leave, inform Dage of the change so he can adjust the security needs.”

  “Sir, what if Keeya refuses to go? She is a stubborn one.”

  “Then, I’ll have to convince her.” He smirked as he sat at the desk and opened his laptop. “I’ve done it before,” he said offhandedly. “I think maybe this time she’ll be a little more willing. Be sure to tell her we’ll be traveling to her old village, rebuilt to include, a medical center and small school.”

  Naledi bowed her head again and left the office to complete the tasks set before her.

  ~ ~ ~

  Vernon Kemp drummed his thumbs on the steering wheel. His passenger didn’t like crowds, traffic, or new places; especially when it involved Africa. Taking the keys away from the Serbian allowed his friend to play lookout and bodyguard all in one.

  “Are you sure about this?” Zoric quizzed the young tech genius as they drove through Gaborone. “How do you know the security systems along with the computer network are down?”

  Vernon drove cautiously through the streets, dodging scooters and smoke-puffing trucks. “Because I made it happen. Looks like after all this time you’d trust me. Relax. I got this.” He whistled to pretend he didn’t have a care in the world. It wasn’t often he got to boss the intimidating interrogator into submission.

  Vernon, only in his twenties, was the youngest of the Enigma team. Trouble with the Pentagon and Homeland Security got him a second chance at Enigma. They didn’t much care about his illegal off-the-grid stuff, only that he could perform when they needed him. His dark-red hair pulled up in a ponytail revealed pale skin and an abundance of freckles. He swaggere
d when he walked and could be mistaken for a surf bum.

  Because Vernon wasn’t a slave to fashion, Director Benjamin Clark often referred to him as their resident hippy with no respect for authority. That wasn’t exactly true because he’d throw himself on a landmine for Captain Hunter and never deviated from the plan laid out for him. It was the captain who got him out of trouble with the Feds and the military some years earlier, and he’d paid that favor back. It wasn’t that he never broke the law again. He just didn’t get in trouble for it anymore.

  “So why does the boss want us to get into the president’s residence? I could have snooped around for information from my basement in Sacramento.”

  “Tessa thinks a woman is being held against her will who might have a connection to all this.” Zoric gripped the seat as his partner weaved in and out of traffic.

  “What kind of connection? Did he say?”

  “You know Tessa. She gets an idea in her head and if we don’t listen someone gets in a jam. Chase thought we should check it out. The woman has an uncanny ability to see things we don’t.”

  “And those things only happen to her. Makes you want to be a believer, doesn’t it?” Vernon pounded on the horn to get a truck pulling a small trailer out of the way.

  Zoric took a deep drag off his cigarette then exhaled the smoke. “You’re not going to bring up all that walking-with-angels stuff, are you?”

  “You have to admit somebody is looking after her.”

  “His name is Chase Hunter, and we both know he is no angel.” Zoric pointed to a right turn, but Vernon took it too fast. The tires squealed on their van. “Slow down, will ya!” he shouted as he dropped his cigarette in his lap. “Can you drive like a normal person for once?”

  Vernon presented their credentials at the security gate then followed the drive through the manicured grounds of the president’s office. Since the men were on the list of visitors and their vehicle passed inspection, they were soon cruising to a maintenance entrance.

  “Creepy shit.” Zoric squinted his beady eyes.

  “What?” Vernon pulled into a parking spot.

  “See those snakes wrapped around a rhinoceros on the gate? Even their uniforms had what looked like a snake choking the thing. I’m sure that isn’t by accident.”

  “Sounds like you’re afraid of snakes.” Vernon moved his hand like the head of a snake and snapped it at Zoric.

  They exited the van and moved to the back to retrieve their tools.

  “I don’t like them.” The Serbian had committed a great deal of torture in his life, and nothing usually fazed him.

  “Maybe they’re one of your relatives.” Vernon snapped on his tool belt then swung a backpack over his shoulder. The Serbian dropped his cigarette then ground it with his toe. “You’re goin’ pick that up, right?”

  “Sorry. I forgot you were an environmental-terrorist wannabe.” He bent down to pick up the butt.

  “Watch out. Snake!” Vernon jumped back causing Zoric to trip over the curb and fall flat on his back. He crab-crawled backward when the tech laughed and bent to pick up a stick. “My bad. Only a stick.” He continued when Zoric’s eyes turned black, lending him an even more evil look than usual. Vernon tossed the stick at his friend as he got to his feet.

  Zoric growled through gritted teeth, “You are very funny, my little genius. I hope you are amused when I come into your room some night and gut you like a pig.”

  Vernon sobered. “Can’t you take a joke? No sense of humor at all,” he moaned as he stepped around him. “You mess with me, you mess with Tessa. You want that?” He stopped with his hand on the doorknob. Everyone knew she had a tender spot for him. When the Serbian remained silent, Vernon felt more confidence to taunt his partner one more time. “I didn’t think so.” The handle twisted in his hand, drawing his interest. “Even the doorknobs are snakes. Cool.”

  After checking in they were led to the security office where the two men were never left alone. It didn’t really matter to Vernon because he could cause mayhem with anything electronic while someone watched and he recited the “Gettysburg Address” in Klingon.

  The security guards on duty were more interested in Zoric who could have played Dracula in anyone’s most recent nightmare. The guards postured a little too much, and Zoric kept smiling at them with his crooked mouth.

  Vernon addressed the two short guards. “I need to check some connections throughout the house. That okay?”

  The guards frowned and refused.

  “Look here.” He showed them that their security cameras were back on. “You can follow us like a stalking lion. It’s not like I’m going to do anything to lose my job. Okay?”

  They nodded, but one put his hand on his weapon in a threatening manner. “Do not go upstairs to the residence or I might have to use this. Understand?”

  Vernon shrugged and quickly answered. “Of course. Sure. Whatever, dude. Just want to make sure there are no more loose connections. Are we cool?”

  A bewildered expression crossed the guard’s face.

  “I mean, are we good? I can look around?”

  “Don’t touch anything but the things connected to this.” The security guy pulled out a drawer and gave Vernon a map of all the wiring, boxes, outlets, and security camera placement he might need. “Understand?”

  Vernon agreed.

  “Bring the map here when you’re done, and give me a report.”

  “No problem. Let’s go,” he said elbowing Zoric who looked like he did before doing one of his interrogation jobs for Enigma. Vernon believed the man liked his job a little too much. If he began salivating over the prospect of sticking someone with that knife of his, he would have to send him back to the van. “Look normal, would ya?” he whispered. “Oh, wait. This is normal.”

  In some rooms, Zoric helped him, and in others he wandered around so the security would focus on him rather than Vernon doing a little adjustment. There was a lot more coming and going of personnel near the offices, but they spotted only one woman who wore a badge indicating she worked for the president.

  “Can we get a glass of water, ma’am?” Vernon asked in a polite and respectful voice. “Warmed up a bit today. Guess it will be freezing again tonight, though.”

  She pointed toward a hall. “There’s a kitchen down there where the staff eat. I’m sure you can find something.” She seemed to be in a hurry or maybe didn’t want to stop and chat with contract workers. Either way, she moved on toward the staircase leading to the residence.

  They ducked into an alcove when the angry voices of two women lifted from the staircase.

  “Keeya, it is about time you came downstairs. The president insists you tell him why you’re refusing to go to your old village in the Okavango. Don’t you want to see how it has flourished?”

  Vernon slipped out enough to observe the women.

  The tall lithe woman continued down the stairs, holding her head high. “I do not owe the man who killed my husband and my child any explanation. It is another one of his sick tricks to get me to go. My heart is broken in so many pieces that whatever he does to me can never be as bad as losing my family, friends, and way of life. He’s kept me in this gilded cage so long I have forgotten how to fly.”

  The bossy woman turned to catch up with her. “Please, Keeya. Go with him,” she begged. “It will do you good to go back.”

  The tall woman with closely cropped gray hair stopped and turned to look at the secretary with contempt. “You have stopped my escape many times. Why do you want me to go with him this time? What is happening?”

  “Because he needs you to do this. Can’t you see he cares for you? Why else would he have brought you here to live under the nose of each wife he took then discarded. The only one who endured was you. If you had shown him the same kindness given to you, then you would be mistress of this house instead of that prancing idiot who spends his money so freely.”

  The corner of Keeya’s mouth tilted upward. “I will continue to end
ure—but not with him.” She took one more step then turned back. “And I will find a way to leave forever.” She continued down the steps and toward Vernon, who escaped back to the alcove with Zoric and motioned they needed to leave.

  Before they could exit she crashed into Vernon, who choked on his words. Of all times for him to freeze up with a woman who needed him.

  Zoric bowed his head quickly, seeing the startled, almost fearful look in her eyes. “Go to Camp Kubu. There are people there who can help you,” he whispered then touched her arm as if trying to steady her.

  Keeya jerked away. “Who are you? How did you know that is where the president is going?”

  “We are friends of the Kifaru.”

  “There is no such thing,” she snapped raising her nose in the air.

  “What was dead thirty-eight years ago, has returned, ma’am. Please,” Zoric spoke softly while Vernon pretended to check an outlet. “Go with the president.”

  “Humph!” she retorted and strode away toward the kitchen.

  “Hey! You! What are you doing?” The security guards hurried toward them. “Are you all right, ma’am?” They got only a dismissive hand wave. “Are you finished?”

  “Yep. Headed to get some water,” Vernon said taking another glance at Keeya.

  The guards took the men’s arms and quickly escorted them outside. “Get your water somewhere else.”

  “What about my report? I need you to sign this or I don’t get paid,” Vernon, said fumbling with a yellow ticket. He presented it with a pen that looked like a toddler had been chewing on it.

  The guard signed the form before shoving it back at Vernon. “You’ve got one minute to leave the grounds or you’ll be needing a cork to plug the hole I plan to put in you.”

  Vernon glanced at the bill then smirked up at the guard. Zoric was already opening the van door to leave. “Thanks! Call us again next time you screw things up.”

  “Get in the van,” Zoric ordered.

  After he slammed the driver’s side door, Vernon couldn’t resist calling them some colorful names as he offered a gesture of disrespect.