Tessa flinched. “What?”
“The truck. Chase is smiling like a boy who just got his first kiss.” He chuckled. “Hope he can get it running. This place needs a backup plan.”
“Oh,” Tessa mumbled.
“Are you two going to stand there and shoot the breeze or do something?” Chase turned back toward the cleared truck and ran his hand over the hood. “Got any gas, Handsome?” he called after him.
“I’ll look around.”
The big man moved away, leaving Tessa to continue to watch him, even after he’d heard Handsome ask her to help the ladies with some food.
Two men helped Chase push the truck outside the shed under some trees. “You know how to drive a stick shift?” Tessa took his question as an invitation to move closer. Maybe polite conversation would soothe her ruffled feathers.
“Sure. Grew up on a farm.”
He raised the hood and frowned. “Looks like something has been having a picnic under here.”
Tessa stepped up to have a look. “What a mess. This is going to take a while.”
“Yeah.” He straightened and turned to eye her. Words failed him, watching her walk around the truck, touching certain places and smiling. “Tess, I shouldn’t have made that half-dressed comment. I’m sorry.”
“I’m aware at how sorry you are, but I didn’t ask for a character reference.”
“Ouch.” He grinned at her when she folded her arms across her chest and arched an eyebrow. “Let’s--”
“Be friends? Buddies? Coworkers?” Tessa’s voice took on a sarcastic tone. “You got it.”
“That’s not what I meant,” he sighed.
“Really? You’ve made it pretty clear you are my boss, you have physical needs, that you somehow think, I’m a good candidate for a roll in the hay. Oh, and you will never take advantage of me, but continue to never miss a chance to make me feel uncomfortable.”
“No. That’s not—”
She stormed up to him and jammed her finger in his chest. “Listen to me, Captain Hunter. There is no way on God’s green Earth, I have any interest in being on your brainy-bimbo wall of fame.”
Chase looked down at the finger jammed in his chest. She twisted it in the spot that always hurt when he dwelled too much on what it would be like to have makeup sex. He loved how her eyes turned violet then her temper flared.
Jerking her hand back, she exhaled an impatient huff. “Excuse me for touching you again, Mr. High and Mighty.”
She pivoted on her feet so fast they tangled and pitched her forward. Chase grabbed her around the waist and steadied her against his body. She tensed, and he removed his hands and stepped away to work on the truck. This time, Tessa didn’t waste time leaving.
~ ~ ~
“Why are we stopping?” Zoric asked a guard who ignored him to hop down out of the truck and moved to the cab of the truck.
“These men will not answer you. We are to pick up another hyena to take back to the camp for some celebration.” It was the Nigerian whose straight face indicated apathy.
“What?” Vernon squirmed on the hard bench. “We don’t have a cage. Is there another truck or car?”
“No. This is my hyena. He will ride back here with us.” The afternoon sun beat down on his sweat-stained hat. “Not to worry. He will be muzzled.”
Zoric and Vernon locked concerned glares and squeezed farther down the already-crowded bench. The two men sharing the bench with them hugged their rifles a little tighter and rambled to the others with anxious tones in their voices. A lot of head bobbing followed, but no one moved as the Nigerian soon reappeared from a roughly pitched camp.
He prodded the muzzled animal to jump in the truck while holding tight to the leash formed of rope. The man jumped up into the back and pulled the animal closer as he sat across from the Enigma agents. With a wicked smirk, he stroked the animal like it was a fluffy Pomeranian. The beast thrashed his head back at the man in protest then sat and leaned against him. He spoke calmly to the beast when the truck started back down the road.
“I have seen everything,” Zoric spoke out of the corner of his mouth without taking his eyes off the hyena. He pointed to the animal. “How long has the president been working with hyenas?”
The Nigerian scratched the hyena behind the ears and got a soft whine in thanks. His bloodshot eyes lifted to the agents and revealed a smile with yellow teeth. “Not long enough.”
~ ~ ~
The street markets of fruits and vegetables had opened for business. A few people cast suspicious glances their way. Carter guessed they weren’t accustomed to seeing white tourists in this part of town, especially someone who looked like Sam.
The unwanted attention led her to wrap a scarf around her head so only her face showed. Setting a wide-brimmed hat on top, shaded her catlike beauty. Her loose-fitting clothes hid the athletic body.
Carter wore jeans and a camo-green tee shirt that looked a lot like others he saw in the area. His faded ball cap, stained with sweat, gave him a rougher look than he normally wore. A cab driver stopped to asked if they were lost.
“No. Looking for an old college friend from Johannesburg. Told me to look him up if I got this way.” Carter told him the street and continued looking over his shoulder as if expecting trouble. The cabby pointed him in the right direction then quickly pulled away.
Carter spotted the nondescript building where they believed Dr. Girard might be held. Vernon’s colleague at Enigma in Sacramento had come through quicker than he’d hoped. Although the area appeared rundown from age more than lack of care, it might prove wise to keep a low profile.
“Locked,” Sam whispered as she took a lock pick from her backpack. “Think there’s a back entrance?”
“I would have to go around the block to find out. These places are butted up tight against each other. Let’s try and get in this way first.”
Sam withdrew her hands. “Done.”
“Easy does it,” Carter mouthed. Both pulled their weapons. Although the door creaked softly when the two entered, it might as well have been a sonic boom.
The interior remained dimly lit by morning sun pushing in through a few rear windows covered in screens and faded curtains sewn from Kenta cloth. There were two rooms, a gathering room in front with a tiny kitchen in back where another door led to a small fenced yard. A narrow set of stairs separated the two rooms. Carter and Sam navigated the stairs. He cringed with each squeak of a board.
At the top of the stairs, the gush of water running in the bathroom suddenly stopped with a high-pitched squeak of a faucet. To the right of the bathroom, light flooded into a bedroom. The air remained oppressive and stale, as if it had been closed up for too long. The agents stood on either side of the door, waiting for the person to exit. When the door swung open, a man shuffled out, rubbing a dingy towel against his face.
“Dr. Girard?” Sam asked as she holstered her weapon.
He flinched and took an unsteady step backward when Carter grabbed the doctor’s forearm. “Whoa, Doc. It’s us. Handsome’s friends. Remember?” Carter pulled him slowly forward, seeing the look of terror in his eyes. “Remember?” he repeated.
Sam nodded for him to replace his weapon, and she threaded her arm through the doctor’s. “We’ve been worried. Handsome is going crazy over this. Come on. You need to sit down.”
“Where is Dage? Is he all right?”
“Dage?” Carter took the doctor’s other arm and helped lead him into the bedroom. “Did Dage do this to you, Doc?” He eased him into a folding chair before taking a look at his cuts and bruises.
“No. Some of his men roughed me up when I was too slow getting out of their car. Also, I fell at the clinic when Baboloki came. I hit my head. Dage brought me here. He will be in danger when the president finds out it was him who relieved the others. Baboloki knows I was in no shape to escape on my own. Even if I were, Dage would pay the price for not leaving someone in charge of me.”
“Why did he rescue you?” S
am found some antibiotic ointment and reapplied it to a cut over his eye.
“We all have secrets.” The doctor winced. He touched her hand gently then removed it. “I’m fine, Dr. Cordova. Dage came in time to make sure there was no lasting damage. He took very good care of me. As to why he had a change of heart?” He stared at the floor. “Perhaps Keeya can explain everything at the proper time.”
Carter frowned down at the text message on his phone. “The time is now, Doc.” He showed Sam the message. “Dage has kidnapped Keeya.”
The doctor sighed. “Yes. I worried he might try. I wasn’t sure he’d be able to pull it off.”
“You knew he was going to do this?” Sam squatted next to him. “Why does he want Keeya? Because she is important to the president?”
Dr. Girard shook his head and spoke matter-of-factly. “No. Because she is important to Dage’s son.”
“Dage has a family?” Carter sounded confused.
“The president married an international socialite who turned out to be a terrible match. He was too old for her, too controlling. The role of first lady didn’t really appeal to her.”
“You’re saying when she gave him a son, it was her ticket to jet-set around with old friends instead of being a devoted mother?” Carter moved in front of the doctor, drawing his gaze up.
“Not exactly. President Baboloki thinks he has a son, but, in truth, the child belongs to Dage. Keeya knows this and has loved and cared for the child from the beginning. I’m not sure she would have loved a child of the president since he destroyed her family.”
Sam stood to level a shocked look at her partner. “If Baboloki finds out the truth…”
“He’ll kill the child, Dage, and most likely, Keeya, although I’m not convinced of that. From what Dage tells me, the president has a fascination with the woman and tried for years to win her favor. Maybe it was for the Kifaru diamond, to retain power, or remove the competition, I have no idea. But my son’s life is in danger if Keeya is discovered with Handsome. She will not be able to protect him.”
“Where will Dage take her, Dr. Girard? Did he say?” Carter demanded.
“In time, they will return home. We must go back.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
The president’s truck rolled back into camp in the late afternoon. They’d stopped in a couple of villages in an effort to campaign, and he had been well received by the people. One of his men had been left behind with the Nigerian and his beast. From what Vernon and Zoric could tell, those men would join them at the camp later. The hyena had thrashed his head and body the last several miles. The soldiers had grown afraid and threatened to shoot him if he didn’t stay behind. Arrangements for them to come on another vehicle when it became available, satisfied their fears.
The president rushed to find his secretary upon returning to the camp. The camp director met him to inform him there was still no word of Keeya and added dinner would be ready at sunset. Everyone should have returned by then.
“Thank you, Peter. Has your man returned from Maun? I wanted to speak to Dage, my security chief.”
Peter looked perplexed. “No. I wasn’t aware Dage went to Maun. I guess Handsome handled that. He could almost run this camp himself. He also hasn’t returned, but I got a message they had some problems with the boat they took out. We didn’t have another one to send for him and the guests. Fortunately, they were near the medical clinic, and it seems the good doctor had some kind of car, or was it a truck?” Peter gave a chuckle. “No matter. They should be back anytime. I’ll check with Handsome about your security person.” He turned to leave but caught back up with the president. “We’ve fixed enough food for your men, too. Be sure to tell them.”
The president nodded and continued with his brisk walk. He took the steps to his lodgings two at a time, proud his legs could bend so easily at his age. Hunched over the rattan desk, his secretary worked diligently on some accounting books and a calendar.
“Naledi, has Dage checked in?”
She jerked her head up, and tried to smother a gasp with her hand. “You frightened me. No, sir. I fear something is very wrong.”
“Why? What has happened?” The president towered over her, preventing her from rising.
“Did you not get a call?”
“My cell phone doesn’t work well out in the bush and besides, you forgot to charge it last night,” he snapped. “What I got was a garbled message that there was trouble in Maun. What does that even mean?”
Naledi pushed her glasses up on her nose. “I’m sorry, sir. I got a call from one of the guards who kept an eye on Dr. Girard.” She swallowed hard then licked her lips.
“Speak up, woman. I don’t have all day.”
“Dage released them last night and said he’d watch the doctor himself.”
Baboloki frowned before squinting. “That is impossible. He was here with us.”
“But he got here late.”
“Why are we talking about this?”
“When the guards returned this morning, both the doctor and Dage were gone. He’d assured them he would stay until they returned so they could have a night off. Said the doctor would give him no trouble. They were very frightened.”
The president paced with his hands locked behind his back. “I don’t understand. Maybe they were lying to cover up their failure to carry out orders.”
“Either way, the men questioned people in a two-block radius. There are not many businesses or houses in that part of Maun, mostly warehouses. But they did find some kids playing soccer in an abandoned lot. Said they saw a tall man help a white man into his car and drive off.”
“Maybe the doctor took a turn for the worse and Dage tried to get him medical care.” Baboloki suspected he had been double-crossed but needed to continue the line of questioning.
“Sir, I called several medical clinics in Maun and in surrounding areas this morning. No white man came in. They suggested I try Gaborone, and I did, but there was nothing.” Naledi took a deep breath. “Besides, why wouldn’t he have said something last night if the doctor got worse?”
“Maybe because he has moved the good doctor to protect him from me,” he growled then stopped to look out across the Okavango as the sun lowered in the sky. He chewed the inside of his cheek. “The question is why would he do that? What does he know that I do not?”
“I never thought much about it, Mr. President, but it seemed to me Dage and Keeya were a little too friendly.”
Baboloki chuckled. “Naledi, she is an old woman. Dage attracts many young women to his bedroom on a regular basis. I doubt there is something—”
“No, sir. I do not mean romance. Something else.” Her voice quivered as her gaze lowered to the floor.
“What?” Baboloki jerked her to a standing position. “What?”
“It was always when Keeya had charge of your son, sir.”
Baboloki didn’t like surprises.
“I mean, sir, Dage shows too much interest in the boy.”
“He is supposed to protect him, and if that means helping the boy trust him, then what is the harm?”
“I guess nothing, sir.”
Baboloki squeezed her arm. “What are you hiding?” he demanded, and shoved her down in the chair. “Tell me if you have suspicions. No harm will come to you. You have been my loyal aide for too many years.”
“I cannot say for sure, sir. But…once, when your wife came home unexpectedly and walked in on them, they argued about the boy.”
“Again. Dage believed my wife should be a mother, not a socialite.”
“When Keeya tried to take the boy from the room, your wife slapped her so hard she fell down.”
Rage welled up inside the president. Keeya had shown the boy nothing but love from the day he was born. The child gave her purpose and a will to live. For that, he remained grateful. The image of his spoiled wife slapping the woman who had been the one thing he desired, wiped away any moments of regret he had at disposing of her.
&nb
sp; “Go on, Naledi. You’ve nothing to fear from me.”
“Dage helped Keeya to her feet because the little one cried so hard. When his mother tried to take him, he threw himself at Keeya and hugged her legs. Your wife was furious and started to hit the child, only Keeya grabbed her hand and shoved her aside.”
Baboloki admired her audacity. “Please tell me she returned the slap.”
“No, sir. Something worse.”
“Worse? What?” He could sense trouble.
“Keeya raised that arrogant nose of hers and threatened to tell the truth about what she’d done to you if she ever struck the child or tried to take him from her care again.”
“What did Dage do then?”
“He kneeled down by the boy and hugged him then escorted your wife out. I heard him ask her if she was trying to get herself killed as they left the room.”
The president patted his secretary on the shoulder with fatherly affection. “Thank you, Naledi. I can always depend on you.” He stared into space, entranced with the possibilities of Dage’s actions. “Were there other times you saw Dage and Keeya together?”
“Only a few times. Your son was there each time. Dage always played with the boy.”
“And Keeya?”
“She would laugh and tease them for being silly. At the time, I thought it nice the boy had a mother figure…”
“And a father figure?”
“I didn’t mean that, sir.”
He waved his hand in the air. “I am a busy man.”
“You have been a good father.” She swallowed hard before her trembling voice squeaked out the news. “There is more, sir. Your wife has not reported in since she left. The pilot’s family says he never arrived at their destination. I fear something is wrong, sir. The plane is missing.”
He didn’t bother to show surprise or concern but couldn’t resist letting one corner of his mouth turn up in a satisfied smirk. “All good things come to those who wait, Naledi.”
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