Black Mamba

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Black Mamba Page 31

by Tierney James


  “Everything okay?” he asked as he took the steps two at a time to join her.

  “I’m half convinced this is to show these people how powerful Baboloki is so if the Kifaru becomes known they will not be so inclined to throw their support behind him.” She pointed to the metal container. “What do you think is in that?”

  “One of the guards said some kind of snake. Cobra would be my guess. They’ve been used for tricks like this for centuries. In India, they lure them out of baskets with a flute.”

  “Yes. Most people think the music charms them, but snakes don’t have ears.”

  “Right. They follow the swaying movement of the flute, probably thinking it alive. People think it’s magic. Truth is, some snake charmers break off the fangs and sew their mouths shut. Their cobras evidently die of starvation.”

  Tessa took a deep breath, not sure if she hoped this would be the case for whatever was in the box. “Well, don’t do anything heroic today, Chase.”

  He chuckled. “Me? Never.” His hand rested on her back. They stepped toward the buffet. “Come on. I’m starved.”

  ~ ~ ~

  The uninvited guests arrived amidst the converging villagers from around the area. Several of the older women wore Herero dresses, a tradition begun under the influence of nineteenth and twentieth-century missionaries. They were long and Victorian-like with full petticoats and worn with matching flat hats. Others wore long dresses with colorful blankets around their shoulders and beautiful turban-like head coverings for their heads.

  Samantha Cordova chose to wear a blanket so her weapons wouldn’t be exposed. Her long dark hair, tucked beneath a midnight-blue turban created a shadow on her olive skin that almost appeared like the other women in spite of being taller. She cradled a wrapped bundle resembling a baby in her arms and walked confidently into the crowd with her new friends.

  The doctor and Carter had ridden to camp in Joseph’s small motorboat, a ramshackle affair that had the former astronaut afraid they might sink before reaching camp. Each of them had borrowed a kaross, an animal skin blanket, to throw over their shoulders. Instead of traditional skull caps, they wore ball caps to shade their faces.

  Although the doctor wore dark clothing underneath his kaross, Carter managed to wear his safari vest to have plenty of weapons and ammo if needed. Because of his healthy tan, no one seemed to suspect he was a white man. The villagers surrounded him enough to keep the secret. The young woman who fancied Handsome took charge of the doctor and kept him steady on his feet.

  Kirk Opperman, dressed similar to the doctor and several of the men who gave tours, took charge of him in case he decided his alliance changed.

  The former security chief had turned into an asset to the group, considering his loyalty represented a safe outcome for his son. He, too, carried weapons and wore the Camp Kubu uniform with the addition of a gun with limited ammunition. His job was to make sure nothing happened to Keeya, who walked among some of the women dressed in Western clothing. Even so, all of them wore a turban-like hat of colorful material for the special occasion. It was a custom. She held her head high, as if unafraid of being discovered by Baboloki’s people. Other than his secretary and the camp director, no one should recognize her. Few of his soldiers had ever seen her.

  Both Carter and Sam wore earwigs to stay in communication with the other Enigma agents. “Okay, boys and girls, we’re in place,” Carter said good-naturedly. “Let’s get this dance started.”

  “Copy that,” Chase said close to Tessa as if whispering something in her ear. She smiled then looked away as if listening to the excitement.

  “Peter, you look a little distressed,” Chase said, handing his plate to one of the servers. “I’d like a look at that rifle. I consider myself a pretty good bird hunter. We use shotguns for pheasant back in the States, but still…”

  “Maybe later, Chase. I’m not liking this whole hyena thing.”

  “What’s in the metal box?” Chase wiped his mouth then took a swig from a water bottle.

  The camp director rolled his eyes. “The president thinks he’s going to control a snake. I’d rather just shoot the metal box up right, but I’d run the risk of being thrown in prison for the rest of my life for ruining a good time.”

  “Baboloki is dangerous, Peter.” Chase threw his legs over the long bench at the table and stood. “I’m afraid some of these people are going to get hurt. Look at them.”

  “Can’t do anything about it. You’ve seen how he is. This is what Botswana has had to put up with for almost four decades. I think he’s losing his grip. Why else would he do this hyena madness? I’ve seen these Hyena Men before. Look at that Nigerian standing guard over his animals. He’s probably been doing this since he was seven. He’s half Baboloki’s age and by the looks of him, strong as one of those wretched creatures.”

  “Better not say that too loud. Here he comes.”

  “Good heavens. What is he wearing?” Peter fumed.

  The crowd formed a circle of sorts around the open area as Baboloki pranced out in his colorful costume covered in red and green tassels and a skirt-like apron tied in the back. The red tee shirt stretched across his torso showed off his still-fit body. A bandana tied around his head was topped with a cap that boasted the national soccer team, a fashion choice that got some cheers from a few young fans in the crowd.

  He removed it then tossed the scarf their way. A scramble in the dirt between two youngsters ignited a great deal of laughter among the people.

  The chain ankle bracelets tinkled when he stomped forward. The thigh-high leather boots he’d sported for the last few days had been replaced with flip-flops.

  “Is he crazy?” Tessa pushed between Handsome and Chase standing at the railing.

  Chase stole a glance at Tessa and noticed Handsome had done the same. She looked tiny sandwiched between them. He realized that in spite of their differences, she had managed to bring Handsome and himself together. It was a heady feeling knowing the three of them stood on the threshold of change for Botswana.

  Chase took out a handkerchief and rubbed it across his brow then held it out to Handsome. “Take care of this for me, will ya?”

  Handsome frowned down at the damp rag. “If my boss wasn’t watching you, I’d shove this down your throat.”

  “Now, boys,” Tessa reprimanded in a silky soft voice. “I think the show is about to begin.”

  Handsome placed his hand on Tessa’s where it gripped the railing. “Don’t take any unnecessary chances.”

  “Heck of a time to be concerned about that, don’t you think?” Chase growled under his breath, fixated on the beat of a drum the Nigerian held. But Handsome had already disappeared.

  The drum tempo increased, and the president danced around hypnotically with the villagers cheering and clapping along. Some began to sing and sway, creating the feel of a festive celebration. Tessa felt her body join in the rhythmic dance until Chase turned raised eyebrows her way. He slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her in to his side before turning back to the scene below.

  She relaxed against him and let her palm go to the middle of his back. Tessa closed her eyes and fell in love with the magic of the music. She laid her head on Chase’s chest and listened to his steady heartbeat.

  “Stop it, Tess,” Chase warned without taking his eyes off the president. “We’ve talked about this.” A hot blush of embarrassment creeping up her neck and face, caused her to slowly withdraw and push away. He did not stop her.

  Baboloki stopped dancing and received an enthusiastic round of applause. He took a few minutes to catch his breath before giving a political speech about all he’d done for the people of Botswana and especially for the delta tribes. People were eerily quiet but listened politely.

  Many of these people remembered the violence that occurred decades ago and the changes to their way of life. Everyone had lost something or someone during that time of cleansing. The man spoke as if he were one of them and with powerful words of
hope and change.

  He explained about the Hyena Men and what they represented: strength, power, and spiritual gifts that only a few possessed. Watching him walk toward the hyena, Tessa wondered about the docile animal, when a short time ago it had been ferocious. Had it been drugged? It watched the president with devilish eyes of gold and lifted its nose to sniff the air.

  The Nigerian unfastened the chain from the tree, careful to leave it connected to the leash. It immediately jumped to its feet and tried to shake loose of the muzzle in a spastic show of anger. Without the Nigerian holding the end of the chain, it would have lunged at some nearby children. Even so, they fell back as if they’d been attacked, and scurried behind their fathers. Baboloki laughed loudly and grabbed the chain from its handler.

  Beast and man performed as one, the hyena trying to escape only to be dragged back by the president until the animal would jump at him and rest his head against his shoulder in surrender. There were some gasps, applause, and shouts of encouragement as the two did their magical dance that, accompanied by the drum beat, wove a magical spell.

  Then Baboloki passed the chain leash back to the Nigerian. The animal immediately hunkered down and emitted a low growl toward the president. He motioned for the guests on the deck to join them.

  Tessa slipped her arm through Chase’s and clamped her free hand over his. “Chase?”

  “Come on!” Baboloki called enthusiastically. “Nothing to fear.”

  “No thanks,” called the elder British man as he wrapped an arm around his wife.

  The president nodded toward some soldiers who rushed upon the deck, their rifles cradled ominously. Their demeanor forced their bodies to become rigid as they pulled themselves to their full height. The expressionless faces indicated these men meant to bring the guests to the ground below.

  “Now see here,” the elder Brit complained, looking to Peter for help.

  “I think we’d better go down.” Chase cocked his head toward the president below. “It’ll be all right. Move slowly. Smile.”

  The two British couples clung to each other, while the Germans frowned and conversed with each other in their native tongue. They all followed Chase and Tessa and huddled together once they left the deck area. Even Peter was forced to join them, a soldier removing his gun from his hands with a jerk. The Germans complained only to suffer shoves so hard one of them fell with a thud.

  Chase quickly offered his hand and helped him up, surprised at the muscle tone in his arm. “Easy. You okay?”

  He nodded and dusted himself off. The glint of fire flared in his eyes.

  “Intimidation. Keep cool. They aren’t the only ones with guns here,” he mumbled. Both German men shook their heads in understanding and allowed their eyes to travel around the circle as if they might be trying to find someone they knew.

  “That is better,” Baboloki proclaimed then pivoted toward the hyena. “Today is a special day. You will see that it is I who should lead this country.” He fanned his hand out toward the beast that leapt to his feet and once more, tried to free himself of the muzzle. The Nigerian held the leash so tight, the veins showed on his arms. “I have the power to control even these disgusting beasts that prey on the helpless, the weak, and the sick.” His eyes bulged and blasted out his promise. “With me, I’ll destroy anyone who tries to take your way of life.”

  A deep voice from the crowd called out, “Don’t you mean you will destroy our way of life if we get in your way?”

  Baboloki whirled around, furious he’d been challenged. His cheeks flushed red as he shouted back. “Who said that? Show yourself!”

  Tessa spotted Handsome’s larger-than-life body push through the crowd and glare at the president.

  “I said it. I seek only the truth. I do not see it here today.”

  Baboloki sniffed. “And who are you? A simpleton who serves tourists. What makes you think someone like you can change what I have created?”

  Handsome removed a rag from his pants pocket. Chase had given him the rag earlier and unfolded it carefully. Then, with the care of lifting an infant into the air, Handsome Jones held up the Kifaru diamond.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  A hush fell over the crowd then a low shocked, rumble of disbelief ebbed through the villagers. Baboloki watched his admirers fade away with each second that Handsome stood like a giant, holding up the Kifaru.

  “Nothing to say, Mr. President?” Handsome prodded. “You killed my father thirty-seven years ago because you were afraid of a little piece of carbon, a rock that meant nothing to you and everything to the people of Botswana.”

  “I did no such thing. Where is your proof?”

  Another man pushed up alongside Handsome. “I am the proof.” Gasps and guarded conversations came from the crowd. The surrounding villages had no doubt all heard of the death of Dr. Girard. “I was there that day. John, Handsome’s father who some of you may remember, handed him to me to protect until the day we could return and end the stunted form of democracy this president pretends to believe in.”

  The president’s face flushed with anger. He pointed an accusing finger at Handsome. “Liar,” he accused. “How dare you. You two aren’t even citizens of this land. Why should anyone here believe you?”

  “Because,” came yet another voice behind him on the edge of the crowd, “I am his mother.” Keeya glared at the president as she stepped forward with Dage at her side. “I am Keeya.” She looked around at the people who had arrived to see the president’s demonstration. “You knew me long ago. My husband escaped the village the day of the massacre and ran to the old safari camp, but it, too, was burned to the ground. He took our newborn son in hopes of finding Dr. Girard, our friend.”

  The crowd suddenly lost the festive vibe and began to shout out memories of that day. Several called out stories of other villages being torched and destroyed from unknown rebels. Some argued they were not soldiers, but rebels.

  Fuzzy details remained to this day about what had really happened. What had been consistent was the stories of how John, the respected engineer who helped build schools, purify water, and teach conservation had been brutally murdered.

  “Keeya,” Baboloki whispered sadly. Then he turned around to confront the crowd. “This woman is a worker in my home. She came to me years ago, lost and half-starved. I know nothing of this son or husband she speaks of. I took her in, showed mercy and kindness all these years. This is treachery!” He puffed out his chest and laid a fist over his chest. “This breaks my heart.”

  “You have no heart, Mr. President,” Dage commented as he pushed in front of Keeya. “You have held this woman against her will since you kidnapped her the day of the massacre. The child was never found, and you feared he survived.”

  “Lies,” Baboloki said coldly, having regained some composure. “All lies. You have shamed me, Dage. I gave you chances to improve yourself and this is how you repay me?”

  The crowd nodded and pointed at Dage in disgust then shouted sympathetic remarks to the president with this new information.

  “You will be defeated in the election,” Handsome proclaimed. “I will be running against you this time. The people will have a choice.” He tucked the diamond inside his vest. “I am not afraid of you. And people will no longer be held hostage to your threats of draining the Okavango if someone other than you is elected.” Handsome extended a hand toward Tessa. “My friends from America have encouraged the World Heritage organization to make it a protected waterway, I plan to keep it that way. And I think my DNA will prove I am John and Keeya’s son. Dr. Girard took a sample of Keeya’s blood the day you came to the medical center. I am a citizen of Botswana, Mr. President, and will oppose you in the election.”

  “You will never win.”

  “But I will try and not be afraid to challenge you.”

  “You have no support.”

  Handsome looked over his shoulder as yet another man moved through the crowd to come alongside him. Kirk Opperman glared at the
president. “I’ve warned you for years this time would come. My money will support the man who pushes Botswana forward, not keeps a strangle hold on her beautiful throat.”

  Baboloki sneered. “You are a fool, Opperman.”

  Chase spoke into his hidden mic, hoping everyone hadn’t forgotten to listen to their earwig. “Be alert. This guy is about to come unhinged.”

  “Roger that,” came from each agent one at a time. “Moving forward.”

  Tessa released Chase’s arm and took a step forward, cocking her head as if to catch every word. Her wide eyes darted between Handsome and the president.

  The two Germans caught Chase’s eye as they tensed in a stance recognized as military. Their hands nonchalantly slipped into their safari vests, eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring—ready for action.

  While Chase considered the possibility his team members weren’t the only ones armed, Baboloki nodded to his men and shouted, “Take them!”

  Several soldiers shoved their way toward Keeya and grabbed her from behind. She called out to her son to be careful. Dage pivoted to protect her and was met with a rifle butt that smashed into his face. She collapsed out of the soldier’s grip onto the ground next Dage, covered in blood splatter from a broken nose. One of the soldiers planted a boot down on his chest as Dage struggled to rise, only to receive another blow to the head.

  “Please. Stop,” Keeya begged with outstretched hands over his face.

  The soldier grabbed her hand and jerked her up then dragged her to Baboloki where he shoved her down at his feet.

  Dr. Girard and Opperman tried to run but were quickly captured, in spite of Handsome stepping forward to stop them. There were too many men for him to knock down, even after he shoved several to the ground. A gun pointed at his back and head, slowed him down enough to face the president once again.

  “Boss?” Vernon’s questioning tone came through on the earwig.

 

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