Black Mamba

by Tierney James

  “Sir?”

  The president didn’t respond further. He turned back to her earlier words. Hadn’t he set aside time each day to interact with the boy? Or had he forgotten most days and left it up to Keeya? When he sent word, affairs of state interfered, he sent Dage to explain.

  There were even times he’d sent the security guard to his wife when he chose other endeavors to prop up his rule of power. In the end, she’d had enough and left for longer and longer periods of time. Had there been something between her and Dage?

  “Have you tried calling Dage?”

  “Yes. Nothing.” Naledi pursed her lips and shook her head before speaking. “Keeya is behind this, Mr. President. She has poisoned your son and your most trusted guard and friend with her lies. She only cares about herself.”

  Baboloki jutted out his bottom lip and narrowed his eyes again as he strolled onto the deck. Bringing Keeya back to the Okavango may be his undoing. Why did she think this time escape would be successful?

  She might be dead unless someone helped her. More than thirty-five years had passed, and in that time the delta had changed; eight to ten-foot crocodiles swam the channels, unlike when she left. Hippopotami, never friendly, could easily kill her if she wandered into the wrong pools. If she was still alive, then someone helped. But who?

  The reputation he’d created over the years convinced people of his powerful reach to loyal citizens and to those who were not. The people in this area of the country would have heard from fathers and grandfathers of his first visit to their precious Okavango. Maybe a child had survived, like the Kifaru boy he sought to capture.

  Naledi brought him a pack of cigarettes and waited to light his first smoke of the evening. He nodded thanks, and she scurried back to her work. She soon gathered up her things and escaped to her own tent. Why couldn’t everyone on his staff be like her, devoted, dependable, and loyal?

  This last bit of information, concerning Dage and Keeya, perplexed him. He searched his memories for clues. Had Keeya won Dage over to helping her escape? Why would he do that? Had she promised him a reward if her son really returned to take his place as a possible leader of Botswana? Again. Why would he jeopardize a sure thing to help an old woman who had been his prisoner for years? Something wasn’t right.

  Voices lifted from below, bringing him to the railing. He spotted the Americans walking hand in hand. Nothing had gone right since they showed up. It seemed a little convenient, things spiraling out of control from the moment they arrived in Botswana.

  He speculated who they really were, or at least the man called Hunter. The woman’s credentials checked out, but his, not so much. All he really knew about him was that he worked for a protection service hired by the State Department. Somewhere along the way, they’d developed more than a business relationship.

  Baboloki decided he’d have to find out more about these two. Their friends had left earlier in the day, complaining of the place being unsafe. Then there were the two video magazine reporters following him everywhere. Too many clever coincidences for his liking.

  He puffed on his cigarette as his eyes fell on Hunter who chose that instant to look up. The woman looked tired and didn’t seem to notice the man’s diverted glance at Baboloki who lit another cigarette as Hunter raised his chin in a snide greeting then moved on to his own tree house quarters. Retrieving the cell phone from its portable charger, the president called Kirk Opperman of the Camelthorn Mine Company.

  “I have a problem, Kirk. I need some information on a Chase Hunter escorting Ms. Scott from the State Department.” He gave the names of the two men who had been creating a digital profile of him for several days as well as the American couple who left earlier in the day. “I need that information immediately. Something is not right. I think they are planning on preventing me from being elected.”

  He listened intently to the voice on the other end of the phone then replied, “Do it, Kirk, or you’ll be the next one on my hit list. Do you understand me?” Before his puppet could answer, Baboloki clicked off.

  ~ ~ ~

  As Chase and Tessa ran up the steps to their tree house, she squeezed her fingers out of his tight hold. She pushed back the bamboo and mesh doors, leaving Chase to linger in his misery on the deck. He’d been sullen all day, and her mood matched his in spite of the children who came around to sing songs for her. She enjoyed the women when they took her to their homes and shared a part of their lives. But having Chase reprimand her for paying him too much attention both embarrassed and humiliated her. She couldn’t drop the romantic hand-holding charade fast enough.

  Had she really let her feelings rise to the surface, or did she overplay her role as lover? Who was she kidding? They were partners, agents, not romantic buddies looking for a fling. He made that pretty clear with his short-tempered attitude toward her.

  She wanted to go home. Get this over with, whatever this was, and return to her life in Grass Valley. Kidnapping, arson, and theft laced with poachers and attempted murder made the risky business of keeping Handsome safe enough to run for president seem like a walk in the park. Why were they even here?

  With regret, she had to admit part of the reason they were here was a result of her involvement with Handsome. She owed him her life and her children’s lives. That was water under the bridge. Once again, she’d let her emotions get the best of her. Every word out of Handsome’s mouth she’d bought hook, line, and sinker.

  Chase walked in looking down at his phone. “Got a call from Carter. They found Dr. Girard. He’s going to be okay.” He tossed the phone on the desk and approached Tessa, stopping about three feet away. “I got a text from Vernon, too. They had quite a day.” He told her about the Hyena Man and Baboloki’s performance. “Sounds like Baboloki intends a second performance tonight. Word is he invited everyone along the way to watch.”

  “Those animals are unpredictable. Convenient time for an accident.”

  “Like the black mamba in your bed.”

  Tessa shivered then hugged her arms. “Any word on Keeya and Dage?”

  He shook his head. “The nice thing about out here is you don’t leave a big social media footprint, and our satellites have bigger fish to fry than a disgruntled employee.”

  “But Keeya?”

  “She went willingly and even protected him.”

  “Why would she do that?”

  “Maybe she’s bat crazy,” he huffed.

  “That’s your answer? How in the world did you get to be a captain in Delta Force or even the Rangers?”

  He smirked. “Even Rangers have a difficult time reading women. Probably why so many of us get divorced. Why do you think she left with Dage?”

  Rubbing her arms and turning her back on him, she searched through her suitcase for something to wear for the evening. “It’s not just protecting Dage. She wanted something else.”

  “Well her disappearance is driving Baboloki crazy. That has to be worth something.”

  “But what would be a bigger punishment for all his sins?”

  “You mean besides death?”

  “Yes. Death would be too good for him. She needed him alive in hopes the Kifaru existed and would return. It was a farfetched dream, but she never lost hope. What could she do to Baboloki to make him feel all the pain she’d experienced over the years?” He continued to give her a blank stare. “Baboloki’s son. How better to show him a lesson, than to take his son. In the process, she could barter for her own son’s life.”

  Chase ran his hand over his face then pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m not sure if I should give you a promotion or a hug.”

  Tessa jerked her head around. “You see,” she fumed. “There you go again. One minute we’re solving problems, and the next you’re flirting. Most of the time I think we’re kidding around. But when I do the same thing, you turn into the by-the-book guy and make me feel like I’ve committed some kind of sexual harassment.” She slammed her suitcase shut. “Either we’re friends who have some momen
ts of mutual tenderness and respect, or we’re a couple of robots who go through the motions of being human. Let me know what you want, and I’ll do it.”

  She didn’t expect what happened next.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Slipping back into the presidential compound with little interference worked to Dage and Keeya’s advantage. No one questioned their sudden arrival. Dage had cleaned himself up enough to not draw undue attention, and Keeya relaxed once she saw the president’s son.

  “Imari,” Keeya exclaimed as she opened her arms for him. She kneeled before him in the foyer. A nurse had been put in charge of his care in her absence, and Keeya bombarded her with questions concerning his well-being.

  Another servant appeared. and Dage ordered her to pack a bag for the boy.

  “Where are we going, Keeya?” Seven-year-old Imari asked. Then he looked up at Dage. “Are you coming, too?”

  Dage tried to erase the scowl he’d learned to wear for his job. The boy stared up at him and leaned into Keeya for comfort. He stroked the top of his head. “Yes, son. I am coming. What do you say we take a little trip?”

  The boy clapped his hands. “Where are we going? Will my father be there?”

  Keeya hugged him and stood up. “The president is busy, Imari. I do not know when we will see him.”

  “But you and Dage will be there. Right?”

  He squatted to level a serious gaze at the child. “I will always be there for you.”

  The boy let go of Keeya and stepped closer to Dage. His lip jutted out in some unknown disappointment. The words whispered when he leaned in, warmed Dage’s heart. “I wish you were my father.”

  The man patted the child’s cheek. “You must never say that where anyone but Keeya or myself can hear you. Do you understand?”

  Imari nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, sir.”

  “Very good, then.” Dage stood up. “Are you brave enough to go on an adventure?”

  The boy straightened like a soldier waiting for orders. “Yes, sir.”

  “Excellent. Take care of this woman for me until I return, Imari. I have some business to attend to before our journey can begin.”

  Imari grabbed Keeya’s hand and pulled. “Come, Keeya. Let’s play.”

  Keeya winked at the boy then focused at Dage. “Hurry, my friend.”

  He nodded and moved down the hall just as Opperman stepped out of an office and leveled a gun at his chest.

  ~ ~ ~

  “So, what’s the deal?” Tessa shifted her weight to one hip and put her hands on her waist after pushing her hair behind her ears. “Tell me,” she demanded. “Robots or friends?”

  Chase’s eyes narrowed the way they did when masking anger or impatience. His nostrils flared, and he straighten his six-foot-one frame. His jaw tightened and released. Tessa decided she might be in not just deep water, but shark-infested waters.

  In that split second, he focused on her body, letting his gaze wander recklessly, then on her mouth. When she shoved her hands in her vest pockets and tried to speak, he stormed toward her.

  Taking a step back, Tessa found herself pressed up against the small nightstand with no escape. He stood so close, his breath touched her face.

  “Stop,” she demanded forcefully, although later she realized it had only been a whisper, a half-hearted whisper, at that.

  “No.” Chase lowered his head so his nose almost touched hers. “There is no being friends with you.”

  Tessa could not stop the habit of her eyes batting ninety to nothing when scared. “Why not?” She tried to push farther back so that she sat on the edge of the nightstand. If he’d been a dragon, fire would be coming out of his mouth about now. Why was he so mad?

  “This is why.” He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her into his arms. Before she could protest, he captured her mouth and kissed her hard. At one point, her knees gave way, and she remained upright only because he held onto her. The kiss stopped as suddenly as it began. “Half the time I don’t know if I should wring your stubborn neck, or rip your clothes off and…” When he stepped back, his mouth went to a pouting position.

  “And what?” she mumbled. For crying out loud. Why couldn’t she have said something sultry and tempting, like, “Tell me, big boy, and make my dreams come true.” Did anyone ever really say such ridiculous things? Oh, for heaven’s sake! She was losing her mind.

  He pivoted on his heels and headed toward the bathroom. “I’m taking a cold shower, so you’ll have plenty of hot water tonight.” Tessa stared after him even as he turned back toward her and frowned. “When we get home, you’re on desk duty. No more field work for you.”

  This did make her angry. “Why not?” she fumed. “You can’t do that to me.”

  “I can and will. If you don’t like it, then quit. Makes no difference to me.” With that, he walked into the bathroom and slammed the door.

  Tessa could not resist getting in the last word. She went to the door just as the shower faucet turned on. “Okay. I quit,” she yelled. “I don’t need you or your band of misfits.”

  Jerking the door open, Chase stood there in nothing but his boxer shorts. “You need us a lot more than we need you. Go back to your boring life. Waste that brain of yours on church bazaars, school committees, and little league. But I venture to say you wouldn’t last two days in that life.”

  The second slamming of the door and her quick exit were simultaneous. She shouted over the sound of water. “I never want to work with you again, Chase Hunter. Do you hear me? Never. You make me so miserable, I…”

  She couldn’t finish the sentence because anything she said would have been a lie. You make me miserable because you’re a jerk, a Neanderthal, a chauvinistic baboon, and I hate you. The truth was she was miserable because she wanted to release the uptight woman caged inside her and fall helplessly in love with the man she admired more than anyone on earth.

  The kiss. What did it mean? Had they gotten too close and physical desires were just that, carnal desires on the most basic of levels? Chase had never pursued her in that fashion. She guessed maybe he’d been without the physical comforts of one of his brainy bimbos far too long. It had not been a kiss of passion, more like he might be teaching her a lesson. Nonetheless the sensual sensation lingering in her body, from his touch, smoldered like a fire.

  She struggled to pull up a mental picture of her husband back home. Their relationship had been on defrost ever since she’d returned from Afghanistan. Then, when all the Kifaru mess flared up, they grew further apart. Normally, she would pray about her problems. Not this one. The reality of what needed to happen and what she wanted to happen remained unthinkable to someone like her.

  Her mind briefly escaped to the Wakhan Valley where the tribesman had taken her and introduced her to a new kind of love. He, too, remained a problem that most likely would reappear. Unlike Chase, the tribesman would not have any qualms about taking her a second time.

  “What are you doing?” Chase’s voice cut into her reverie.

  She whirled around and saw him standing with a towel wrapped around his lower body and another he used to rub across his head. When she didn’t move, he threw the towel he’d used on his head, at her.

  “Are you going to watch me get dressed? I mean it’s fine with me, but I figured you were a little uptight about that kind of thing.” His eyes were wide, now, and his lips formed a perfect straight line.

  Tessa caught the towel and huffed past him. “You’re insufferable, you know that?’

  “I certainly do. And you are kidding yourself if you think I buy into you being incensed.”

  It was all Tessa could do not to slam the door. The evening would be long and awkward. When she got under the hot spray of water, she remembered she’d not brought any clean clothes with her into the bathroom. The ones she’d discarded were soaking wet from the spray splattered on the floor, and the dust had turned to mud.

  “Great,” she moaned.

  Chase strolled onto the de
ck and turned so he could see into the suite. Knowing he’d provoked her again, he expected a cold shoulder for the rest of the trip. He’d meant to give her a good dressing down, but that turned out to be a little bit different tongue-lashing than he’d planned. He didn’t regret it. It was ill-advised and the planning sucked. Keeping his hands off her when she was such a gullible target, kept getting him sidetracked. He couldn’t think straight.

  “Keep it down, will you?” Handsome said from the bottom of the steps. “You want to argue, do it on your own time. You scared the fruit bats into yapping.”

  Chase nodded and waved him off.

  “I mean it, Chase. Play nice with the lady.”

  “Or what? You going to teach me a lesson?”

  “I’m looking for a reason to feed you to the crocodiles, so whatever is going on between you two, get it solved. It’s like I’ve been taking care of a couple of spoiled brats all day.”

  “I’ll pass the word along. Now, beat it. I’m waiting for Tessa to get ready. We’ll be down soon.” He smirked. “Maybe.”

  Handsome pointed his huge finger at him as if in some kind of warning then turned and left.

  Chase focused his attention on the bathroom door. She’d left her clothes on the far side of the bed. The soft touch of darkness caressed the Okavango. Only small artificial candles on timers lit the suite. Chase thought about his next move considering the abundance of romantic ambiance.

  One of the reasons he was good at what he did in the special forces was the ability to assess the situation, devise a plan, and wait for it to happen. He slowed his breathing and took in his surroundings, the smells, the sounds, and even the way the air felt against his skin, all the while focusing on the woman who would need to come through the bathroom door in a few minutes wearing nothing more than a towel.

  “Chase?” she called in a calm, cool voice.

  He ignored her.

  “Chase, can you bring me my clothes? I left them on the bed.”