Black Mamba

by Tierney James

  Chapter Thirteen

  The Enigma team spent the morning in a mokoro, a canoe-like boat with a flat bottom narrow enough that Tessa had to sit in front of Chase on a bench with a stadium-style back. One of the guides stood on the back and poled them through the Okavango Delta at a leisurely pace. He stopped once and fished several soft drinks from a cooler to give them. It seemed a good time for him to rest.

  The whispering wind pushing through the papyrus and an occasional frightened marabou stork taking flight reminded Tessa she most certainly wasn’t in Kansas anymore, or California or anywhere resembling home. The silence engulfing them brought a kind of peace to the troubled thoughts plaguing her for many months. How difficult would it be to live off the grid here, forever? She lifted her face toward the sky and closed her eyes, loving the warmth on her skin.

  Removing her pith helmet, she twisted around to see Chase surveying the area. His dark sunglasses hid what she guessed might be a security scan. When he turned his head back toward her, she couldn’t resist a smile of contentment.

  “I love it here, Chase.” Her voice remained low in her awe at such a magnificent show of nature.

  His mouth thinned to a straight line, and he nodded some kind of agreement but said nothing. Taking a sip of his orange-flavored drink, he returned to his military-style observation.

  The guide pointed to the tall grasses where a bright-red object moved in slow, jerky steps.

  “Saddle-billed stork.” He dropped his hand to his pole as if to steady his stance on the back of the mokoro.

  “Beautiful. That has to be everyone’s favorite.”

  The guide agreed.

  How many times had he been told that about the creature standing gracefully at about four feet tall. “How many species of birds are here?”

  “Four hundred, maybe. Many.”

  Tessa opened the pamphlet the camp director passed out at breakfast with names of birds they might see. She checked the saddle-billed off and counted ten others she’d already marked. When she sighed and let her gaze rest on the still waters of the Okavango, Chase laid a hand on her shoulder.

  “You okay?”

  Tessa reached back to touch his hand, and he immediately withdrew. She looked over her shoulder at him and became aware of his breath on her cheek. “I’m good. I love the quiet.”

  “I could get use to this,” he mumbled. “Let’s run away.”

  It wasn’t often Chased teased her about the future. “Okay. No hot water bottles, though.”

  “Forget it, then. I don’t want your cold feet rubbing up against me. You’re such a pain in the neck sometimes.”

  Tessa clicked her tongue in mock annoyance. “No wonder you’re single. Such a baby.”

  He kissed her on the cheek. She twisted around, and their noses touched. Tessa could see her surprised reflection in his mirrored sunglasses.

  “Do you enjoy being a temptation?” He continued to speak low as he lifted a curl away from her face. When she didn’t answer, he continued, “Because I’m getting pretty tired of it. Any advice?”

  “Think of me in footy pajamas, crazy hair, and walking like a zombie with donut crumbs on my chin first thing in the morning.”

  His lips twisted to one side. “Yeah. Sounds sexy to me.”

  “Stop it.” She frowned. “You might think flirting is funny, but did it ever occur to you I find it distracting? I don’t appreciate you toying with my affection, Chase.” She turned away, but he wrapped his arms around her, bringing his mouth to her ear.

  “And I don’t appreciate being held at arm’s length while you decide whether or not you love Robert or some tribesman in Afghanistan.” Tessa stiffened and tried to lean forward, but he held her in place. “I’m not toying with your affection. I’m holding myself in check.”

  “I’m not ever going to be your next one-night stand.” She briefly considered whether the guide listened to her low-pitched growl.

  “You most certainly won’t ever be that.”

  She turned and found her face touching his. She waited for him to withdraw. He didn’t.

  “I’m playing the affectionate companion slash bodyguard. Wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea about us.” His amusement spread across his generous mouth when their lips brushed against each other. “Damn, woman,” he whispered then leaned back in his seat.

  “Ready to go?” their guide asked.

  Tessa wanted to jerk the pole away from the guide and shout, what I’m ready for is to strip naked and make a complete fool out of myself. It wouldn’t be the first time. But she remained quiet with her tumultuous yearnings and fought to refocus on the business at hand. How could he say one minute they were best buddies and in the next voice things that scared her to death?

  “Moremi,” Chase addressed their guide, “how deep is the water here?”

  What difference did it make? She wasn’t going for a swim anytime soon.

  “Most places along here can be walked across. A few places are two or three meters deep. Not a good place to swim. The open water is deeper for this. Fishing is better, there, too. But we do not encourage straying but a few feet from the motorboats and mokoros. The crocodiles grow bigger each year. Then there are the hippos who feed on the bottom.” Moremi closed the cooler and stowed their empty cans in a mesh bag.

  “How is the hunting?”

  The mokoro glided through the water again. The movement restored her calm enough for her to face forward and soak up the sunshine.

  “There is no hunting, now,” Moremi sighed. “President Baboloki stopped big-game hunts.”

  “Too much environmental pressure from the outside world?” Chase inquired.

  “I do not understand it, sir. All of that is beyond me. I know my people are hungry part of the time, and the lack of jobs forces the men to leave their villages to live in the city.”

  Moremi might not be telling them everything. She had read where ten years earlier UNESCO had labeled the Okavango a World Heritage Site in the hope the vast number of big-game animals would be protected so that ecotourism might flourish. If that were true, why did the people coming and going at the medical clinic appear so poor and unhealthy? The nearby village they’d toured had not been one of progress. Maybe Handsome could shed some light on her concerns.

  Before she could return to emptying her mind of geo-political conflicts, Chase touched her shoulder and whispered.

  “See that stand of trees to our right?” She shifted her gaze to find it before nodding. “Swim hard.”

  Even before she could protest such a ridiculous idea, something pinged off the front of the mokoro. The shrill sound of a bird taking flight followed the second shot hitting Moremi. She turned to see him fall into the water. A flood of confusion and fear washed over her.

  “Now,” Chase yelled then rocked the mokoro to flip it over. Tessa had already leaned hard to the right, and his movements added momentum to her tumble. In a split second, the mokoro came crashing down in front of her, barely missing her head. Panic gripped her as she twisted around to search for Chase, only to find him gone.

  A shot echoed across the water, thumping against the mokoro. Another shot hit the water. Tessa cried out, and tears welled up in her eyes. Panic gripped her ability to think beyond pushing under the mokoro. Her feet touched the soft bottom of the Okavango, and so she tried to scrunch lower in the water. A terrified scream escaped her throat when something grabbed her thigh then her arm.

  ~ ~ ~

  Handsome stopped working on the repairs in the camp kitchen when shots echoed across the Okavango. His assistant walked to the door and stared with wide eyes. He turned back to Handsome and shrugged, but the assistant’s pinched brow drew Handsome away from his work to stand next to him.

  “That sounded like gunshots to me,” Handsome mumbled. “Think we’ve got some poachers?”

  “Maybe. Not usually around here.” His friend turned back to look out across the tranquil waters of the Okavango. “How many mokoros are out
?”

  Handsome wiped his hands on an already-soiled towel. “Two. The Germans are on a walking tour, the Brits in one of the Land Rovers.”

  “The Americans took the mokoros. The smiley one with the beautiful dark lady, left about twenty minutes ago. Got a late start.”

  Handsome nodded before pushing out into the late morning sun. A troop of baboons hurried through the stand of trees near the camp’s edge. He stopped and took a closer look. Three of the bull elephants that liked to visit were backing up at his approach, tossing their giant heads in a show of irritation. They must be spooked at the gunshots. He guessed they’d moved closer to the camp, detecting danger. No one ever bothered them within the campgrounds, and they usually kept their distance. But today they had wandered in close to the observation deck and dining area. He kept an eye on the giants as he approached the office hut. Elephants could charge suddenly, and he didn’t want to spook them further.

  “Mr. Morgan?”

  The camp director looked up from his tidy desk. “What is it, Handsome? You look worried.”

  “Did you hear gunshots?”

  Peter Morgan stood suddenly and grabbed his rifle out of the glass gun case. “No. I was trying to get a message to the main office about supplies. The shortwave radio is acting up again. “Fill me in.”

  “I want a gun.” Handsome straightened his large frame, stopping Peter in his tracks. He came only to Handsome’s shoulder and his eyebrows rose with his caution. “Please. A gun. If poachers are out there, the campers could be in trouble. I can help.”

  Peter retrieved another rifle and a box of ammo. “You sure you can use this?” He checked the weapon then loaded. They locked determined gazes. “Yes. Well I see that was a silly question.” They moved to the outside where several other workers had gathered. “Has the motorboat been fueled up today?”

  “Yes, sir.” A young man motioned for them to follow as he ran toward the boat dock. “I tried to call the ones still out in the delta, but they aren’t responding.”

  Handsome got into the boat last. Peter fired up the engine then took the wheel. “We’ve got our radios. Call the others if you can and get them back. No need to go into details.”

  “Right away, sir.” He turned and hurried back to camp.

  The roar of the engine drowned out the possibility of hearing another gunshot. The water was shallow in the channel they chose to search. The boat moved steadily, both men keeping a vigilant watch on the shorelines.

  “There.” Peter pointed to a mokoro headed their way. The pole man frantically pushed the pole from side to side, increasing the momentum of the boat.

  Handsome spotted Carter and Sam’s tight expressions as they turned their heads to look back then to the shore. Had they seen something? At least they were unharmed.

  Handsome idled the engine as the mokoro pulled alongside and Sam stood awkwardly. Blood created a widening stain on the arm of her blouse.

  “Are you all right?” Handsome grabbed Sam’s hand then helped her into the larger boat.

  “Yes,” she moaned, touching a trickle of blood on her arm. “Grazed me is all.” She and Handsome helped Carter aboard. “I’m good. You?”

  Carter sighed then touched Sam’s cheek and nodded. “Good.”

  The usual sarcastic banter between the two had evaporated when the situation grew serious. She laid a hand on Carter’s for a brief moment. The former astronaut then turned to Handsome. “What’s going on?”

  Handsome leaned over to address the poleman in the mokoro. “Can you make it on your own? It will be faster without the passengers. Are you injured?”

  He assured them he could make it and pushed off. Handsome addressed the passengers. “Do you want to go back? This boat is faster than the mokoro.”

  The camp director frowned at Handsome. “They don’t have a choice. I’m responsible for all guests. She’s been injured.”

  Carter shook his head angrily. “We’re staying. Our friends are out there. They were ahead of us by about two hundred and seventy-five meters. The shots came from there.”

  “You can’t deal with these people,” Peter shouted over the engine as it roared back to life.

  Carter pulled out his weapon from inside his safari vest as Sam removed one from hers. “I said we’re going. I think my partner agrees,” he growled. “She’s tough. She’ll be fine.”

  “Let them come,” Handsome insisted. “They are more than UN people, Mr. Morgan.” Handsome leaned in to Peter’s ear. “We may need their help.” He withdrew and leveled a dangerous glare at his boss. “We may need their help.”

  “Very well,” Peter agreed. His mouth turned down as he stared at the extra guns then squinted at Handsome. “You had better be right.”

  The boat powered up as the three found a seat. They scanned the area for trouble, muscles visibly tensing when an elephant jumped into the water. The boat swerved out of the way. A wave rocked them wildly, nearly flipping them over. Peter powered down once more and took a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel.

  Handsome retrieved the binoculars out of a console then handed them to Carter. “Here. See if you can find them.”

  His first concern was for Tessa Scott. He had convinced her to join him on this excursion into madness. She believed in him, and he’d jeopardized her safety. A woman like her should not be working for regime change in an African country. She had a family to think of. He’d never meant for any of them to get hurt.

  A fire burned in his belly as he thought about the urgency to find her. Crocodiles were his biggest concern then hippos. They were vicious and resisted being intimidated, even by elephants and crocodiles. But there hadn’t been any hippos in this channel for weeks. They’d moved onto better feeding areas, leaving the crocs to sun themselves on the banks without fear of being stomped on by the cantankerous mammals.

  These backwaters of the Okavango were perfect for snatching birds, fish, terrapins, and small mammals. Crocodiles sometimes worked together to ambush antelope or zebras, chomping them in pieces and sharing the meaty delights. Humans were easy prey if caught unaware. Natives remained vigilant, but tourists needed constant reminding not to get too close with their cameras.

  “Slow down,” Carter ordered. He pointed at something in the water.

  “I see it,” Peter called as he killed the engine and floated up to the overturned mokoro.

  Handsome handed Sam the rifle, knowing she was a dead shot. “Carter, can you jump in to help me right the mokoro?”

  Even before the last words were out of his mouth, Carter had removed the binoculars from around his neck and vest. He handed off his weapon and went over the side after Handsome entered the water.

  Both men plunged beneath the mokoro and in seconds resurfaced. They flipped it over before spinning around to face the boat.

  “Well?” Sam called.

  Handsome pulled a safari vest from inside the mokoro then turned it for her to see.

  It was covered in blood.

  Chapter Fourteen

  A strangled scream escaped Tessa’s lungs as she fought to remove whatever had clamped onto her leg. In the chaos, her feet floated out from under her, and she sank under the water. Frantically, she slapped and clawed to free herself. When she regained her footing, she jerked herself upright and brought the large beast with her.

  Her fists pounded on the body.

  “Tessa! It’s me! Stop.” Chase squeezed her arms tight enough so she couldn’t move.

  Tessa gulped and sobbed. Falling against him, she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I was so scared,” she wailed. “I thought a crocodile had my leg.”

  “I didn’t mean to scare you. Guess you couldn’t see my hand with all the silt you stirred up.” He stopped and pushed her back then lowered his eyes to meet hers. “You’re okay, babe. Pull yourself together. We’re not out of this yet.”

  Her neck moved like that of a bobble-head doll when she tried to convey her willingness to continue.

  “We
need to swim out of here. It isn’t far to land. I had to take Moremi to safety. He’s badly hurt.”

  Chase was covered in blood. “Are you hurt?” she gasped running her fingers over him like a mine detector. Even as she asked him, he pulled off her heavy safari jacket. She slipped her arms from the vest and watched the blood transfer to her jacket. He pushed it aside. “This will weigh you down, Tess. It’s only about chest-deep here. Swim the first twenty feet or so then you can walk the rest of the way. I’ll be right there with you.”

  “You are bleeding. Chase!” she cried. “Where are you hurt?”

  “Just a flesh wound. But I need to get out of this water. I don’t know if crocs can smell blood, but I’m not willing to find out. Let’s go.” He pushed the jacket aside before putting his hand on the top of her head. “Ready?” Before she could answer, he shoved her under the water. She surfaced on the other side of the boat almost instantly.

  Chase surfaced next to her and swam hard with vigorous kicks. She followed even though she’d never been a good swimmer. Her arms ached, and her lungs burned. All the advances in exercise over the last year didn’t seem to matter when trying to keep up with Captain American. Even wounded, Chase continued to surprise her with his strength.

  After he rose up out of the water, he stopped long enough to jerk Tessa to her feet and hold onto her hand. They trudged ahead through tall papyrus grass. She held tightly, thinking any second she would stumble and fall or be snatched up by a disgruntled beast.

  The grasses soon opened up and they walked out onto dry land. Tessa staggered after Chase when he ran to help Moremi, who lay sprawled on the sandy ground. He lifted the guide’s body into his arms. “Let’s find shelter. I don’t know where those gunmen are. We’ve got to get to a safe place.”

  “But, but, but,” Tessa protested between gasps for air. “Where? How?”

  Chase halted suddenly and she crashed into his back. “Hear that?” he asked.

  Tessa hunkered down as she cocked her ear toward the direction he stared. “Something is moving in the bush.”