The Enigma Series Boxed Set

by Tierney James

  “Tess, I want to tell you something.” He started to cough. His camouflaged shirt now covered in blood warned of no tomorrows. “About you. The way I feel.”

  Just then the door of the cabin exploded inward. Tessa lifted the SIG and rolled to a sitting position as three men in goggles and white down suits rushed in. Without hesitation her finger met the trigger, knowing the weapon would deliver the accuracy she needed to end this trip into terror. Men gasping for a last breath and landing like bombs against unsteady furniture sounded like music to Tessa’s ears, with the realization this nightmare had concluded one more time.

  Like the other times, she would lower her weapon, before kneeling down next to him. Looking into his dark eyes, she watched as he stared at something in another time, another place.

  It always ended this way. “Chase, don’t leave me. I need you.”

  “Come closer.”

  Lowering her ear to his lips, now blue with the coming of death, the words never varied. “I’m here.”

  “You need to buckle your seatbelt.”

  “What?” she said incredulously as her head jerked upward.

  A hand touched her shoulder. “Mrs. Scott, we are about to land. You need to buckle your seatbelt.” A soft, comforting voice of a mature flight attendant caused her to startle awake.

  Tessa shot a worried glance at the other passengers. Had she talked in her sleep? No one seemed to be giving her a second look when she buckled up, then ran her fingers through tangled curls. Aware of sleep drool on the corner of her mouth, she licked her lips then swiped away the moisture.

  Embarrassment at the dream, she felt the march of heat up her neck and onto her face just as the flight attendant came by once more for a final check. The dream sequence occurred often over the last year.

  The attendant’s concern added a layer of discomfort. “Are you alright, Mrs. Scott? You look a little feverish.”

  She scooted lower into her seat.

  The bulky man sitting next to her started to rub his face and neck, as if he were preparing for a big race. He prevented her efforts at becoming invisible by stretching his arms forward then up over his head. She recognized the California congressman when he yawned. With exaggeration he flipped his tray into place before dropping his plastic Bloody Mary cup into the trash bag offered him by a second flight attendant. This one, much younger than the first, leaned over Tessa.

  She paused a little too long, bestowing a brilliant smile down at the lawmaker. The trash bag dangled against Tessa’s knees. She tried to move the bag from touching her to no avail. Continuing to lean in toward the congressman, the attendant flirted a moment longer.

  The pilot’s voice began to inform the passengers of weather conditions in D.C. A chill started up her spine as the voice continued with a litany of information. No one paid much attention to the announcements except for her.

  The voice, familiar in a disturbing way, did more than catch her undivided attention. “Excuse me.” Tessa caught hold of the trash bag, drawing the attendant’s eyes to meet hers. “Did we stop along the way?”

  “St. Louis. You were asleep.” The attendant shifted her eyes back to the congressman then offered a playful wink.

  Sheepishly, Tessa leaned out over her arm rest to look down toward the locked door of the cabin where the pilot resided. The flight attendants busied themselves with stowing the last bit of clutter away before buckling themselves in for landing. She twisted her body to look down the aisle toward the back of the plane.

  Her eyes glanced off the passengers to reassure herself, friends of the voice on the overhead speakers were not hiding in plain sight amongst innocent travelers. Had she been so asleep when they stopped in St. Louis that she might have missed a familiar face board the plane?

  Tessa straightened back into her seat with a loud sigh when a large hand patted her arm.

  She frowned at the congressman and withdrew her arm from his touch. “Worried about landing?” His breath reeked of alcohol. He didn’t appear to notice her contempt. “I take this flight all the time. Never a problem.” He rolled his eyes upward then made an effort to straighten his suit coat. “Of course, I usually fly first class. This has been a little trying.” He extended his legs out further, enjoying the extra space behind the first-class section.

  The concern for her anxiety was misplaced; the truth being she loved flying. In spite of having a fear of heights, the feeling of flight enhanced her senses; the roar of engines, the lifting of the landing gear and even the occasional bump during wind turbulence. The rapid exhilaration of speed, sending her back against the seat usually filled her with euphoria.

  After hearing the pilot’s voice, a deep concern materialized.

  The voice sounded enough like Carter Johnson, one of the agents she’d met a year earlier, to cause paranoia. Could hearing the intercom voice when she slept activate memories of her past with a secret organization called Enigma?

  Against her will, Tessa had been forced into a national security emergency. She used her skills as a geographer to thwart an impending attack in northern California. Shrouded in mystery and funded by unknown benefactors, Enigma did the work other government agencies felt might get their hands dirty.

  Closing her eyes, she felt the landing gear lower.

  The probability of Carter flying this plane bordered on impossible. Even though he must have better things to do, she imagined the ex-astronaut flying the plane. Yet there could be no mistake in recognizing the voice. If he flew the plane chances were high, he’d had sex with one of the flight attendants somewhere over the Ohio River Valley. In spite of herself, she smiled.

  The notorious playboy had been one of Captain Chase Hunter’s team members in their mission to save an isotope plant. A former astronaut would not be flying a passenger plane to D.C., she reasoned. He had access to faster toys at an unmarked hangar at Sacramento International Airport. An overactive imagination must be out of control. Again.

  Fighting the compulsion, to once again dwell on thoughts of Captain Hunter, Tessa realized he’d haunted her dreams since the week he’d burst into her home and saved her; the first of many times over the days that followed. What would have become of her if Enigma hadn’t sent him to intervene? The mysterious agents vanished from her life as quickly as they’d crashed into it.

  Sometimes she wondered if it had all been a dream; like the one she conjured up several nights a week. A bomb nearly forced her death along with the capture and torture of her neighbor. The events catapulted her into the secret battle against terrorism. Caught in a forest fire, Tessa died for a full three minutes before the captain revived her. There were other events during those days; an assassin tracking her family, assisting a hostage who went into labor at a most inconvenient time and her own capture by a terrorist named Essid.

  None of those moments woke her in the middle of the night with guilt and uncertainty. The memory of waking up in the captain’s arms in total bliss now consumed her each night. That scene played over and over, sweaty bodies tangled as one, large hands pulling through her hair and the strength of something wild and wonderful saving her every night.

  Just like the dream where the captain died in her arms, the romantic interlude never occurred. She suffered from a guilty conscience for something she’d never experienced. There had been no love making resembling wild abandonment. The captain, tired of sleeping on the floor, slipped into the king size bed after she’d fallen asleep. Somewhere between darkness and dawn, Tessa found herself wrapped in his warm arms against the freezing temperature of the air conditioner he’d cranked on high.

  Not very romantic, she reasoned.

  Captain Hunter, a gentleman to the end, remained aloof and protective as his mission pulled her into unknown danger. Only when they’d said their goodbyes did she sense their emotional connection. He strode out of her life like a ghostly aberration, never to be heard from again.

  “You are the bravest woman I’ve ever known.” His words, strong and sincer
e, haunted her even today.

  People began to rise from their seats. Overhead bins snapped open and the sound of bags being dragged out with an occasional “excuse me” reached her ears. Clicks of laptop covers, shuffle of feet and grunts of maneuvering out of narrow seats filled the cabin. Before she could stand, the congressman pushed up and over her, reaching for the carryon bag the flirty flight attendant extended to him.

  She stood to block the other passengers for him. He put his hand on her hip with a smile. A whisper and a nod spoke of something later between the two. A business card palmed into her long, slim fingers appeared to close the deal as the congressman moved away toward first class and off the plane. Grumbling accelerated the throng of travelers forward.

  The urgency to exit evaporated when Tessa decided to hang back to catch a glimpse of the pilot. What if it really were the unapologetic playboy from NASA? Carter would be shocked to see her, maybe even a little pleased. The man was a romantic scoundrel drawn to any pretty face and a few curves. She’d idolized the accomplishments of his work at NASA for years, nothing more.

  The thought of Chase also being on board heightened her awareness of those exiting. She stole another look back down the aisle. Imagining him in a camo jacket, he might hold a copy of Anna Karina. The ear buds of his iPod funneled music of Chris Botti into his ears. She liked to envision him with longer hair, ebony and thick, even though he usually wore it short. His head would be bowed over the words as he occasionally let his hand slip inside his jacket to reassure himself the nine-millimeter weapon was secure and ready for action.

  Disgusted at fantasizing about a man who took great delight in giving orders, the memories returned of how he saved her life numerous times. He deserved a little respect, she reasoned as she edged out into the aisle with her backpack. Wouldn’t a man like that have better things to do than fly commercial? Wouldn’t he be actively saving the world from itself or something?

  Finally, she could stand straight feeling the weight of her backpack. A slight twinge in her shoulder caused Tessa to wrinkle her nose. The flight attendant by the door glanced at her watch hinting at impatience. It was the woman who had taken the congressman’s card. Tessa wondered if they were meeting sooner rather than later.

  Their eyes met only for a moment before Tessa diverted her attention to an older gentleman having difficulties with his carry-on bag in front of her. An exasperated sigh escaped as if some great tragedy had occurred. Tessa grinned. She helped him shift it to move smoothly toward the exit.

  The gentleman tipped his old-fashioned tweed hat then offered a smile which looked too small for his chubby face. He stopped then straightened his tie. “Thank you, young lady. I’m afraid my wife packed more in this carry-on than I realized. It doesn’t seem to want to roll very well. Sorry I’m holding you up.”

  Tessa’s eyes left the cockpit door as it swung open. “It’s all right. Here, let me square it up a bit. There.” Tessa reached down and adjusted it again. “The wheels may need a little W-D 40 when you have time. Looks like you’ve put a few miles on it.” Tessa now followed him taking baby steps.

  The gentleman chuckled then continued in a Bostonian accent. “Oh my, yes. I should just have Martha buy a new one but I’m rather attached to this old thing. Martha’s my wife.” He pulled at ears that reminded her of Dumbo. He bowed toward her with an extended hand. “I’m Dr. Francis Ervin. I’m in D.C. for the World Geographic Conference.”

  The backpack began to slip off her shoulder as she reached for his hand. The weight made her grimace, but managed to raise her shoulder suddenly to keep the bag from falling across her extended arm. He quickly reached out to assist with the shove of her backpack onto her shoulder. “Sorry,” she said grasping his hand, noting that it was calloused and tan, unlike most professors she’d known. “I’m Tessa Scott. I’m here for the conference too.” She nodded toward the front which brought his attention back to exiting.

  “Oh,” he said moving clumsily forward once more. “Are you a presenter?” His bushy gray eyebrows lifted in curiosity.

  Tessa laughed at the thought. “No. I’m an attendee. My two colleagues should have landed an hour ago. We couldn’t all get on the same flight. Our grant didn’t cover all the expenses. We took whatever was cheaper.” Another passenger in front of the plane now complained about something that occurred during the flight drawing her eyes to the cockpit then back to the professor.

  “What is your presentation? Maybe I can drop by.” Tessa didn’t want to promise in case the session might involve a new textbook promotion or something like “Isotherms and the Classroom.” She felt drowsy just thinking about it.

  The professor cleared his throat. “I’m a Biblical Archeologist. I’ll be helping teachers set up an archeological dig for their classroom. I also offer trips to the Holy Land for graduate credit in another session. There are grants available if that is something you’d be interested in. Are you a geographer?” He stopped moving even though no one was ahead of him.

  Tessa’s heart leaped. “Yes, I’m interested and I am a geographer. This is amazing. Count on me attending both your sessions.”

  Traveling to the Holy Land where her Christian faith sprouted along with Judaism and Islam, never failed to spark a desire to explore. Meeting this man could only mean that once again God must be stirring up her life. She wouldn’t fight fate. An excitement bubbled up inside her.

  First the dream of the captain dying in her arms, the voice of Carter Johnson, and now this man suggesting a trip to the Holy Land might be possible. Was God about to play another cruel joke on her?

  The sound of someone clearing their throat drew both passengers’ attention to the flight attendant. “Guess we better get going,” she whispered. “I think she has a date.”

  The professor nodded enthusiastically and started forward. “Right.” He offered a smile to the young woman. “So sorry, dear.” His voice remained pleasant. “Nice flight. Thank you so much.” Tessa noticed the plastic smile and nod of unconcern on the attendant’s face.

  She stopped in front of the flight attendant. “Is the pilot still on board? I thought I knew him.”

  The woman’s smile started to fade a bit. “Sorry. He just left.”

  Tessa noticed the professor made his way into the exit tunnel. “Maybe I’ll catch up with him.” Before the flight attendant could respond she slipped out of the plane and easily overtook the professor. “Did you see the pilot by any chance?” she asked looking ahead of her.

  “Why no, Ms. Scott. Problem?” His concern showed.

  “No. Just thought I…” She didn’t finish when he turned his eyes on her in bewilderment. “It’s nothing.”

  She tried to breeze past him when his bag tilted, preventing a quick escape. Entering the airport Dr. Ervin stopped, blocking her way once again. Scanning the throngs of people who arrived or waited for flights dashed hopes of seeing Carter.

  Tessa hadn’t asked the flight attendant the name of the pilot. Chances were good Carter used an alias. The president might frown on his fair-haired boy letting the general public know what he was up to.

  Dr. Ervin touched her arm. “Here’s my card, Ms. Scott. I hope to see you at the conference and thank you for your assistance on the plane.” He tipped his tan hat revealing a bald head.

  “Thank you, Dr. Ervin.” She glanced down at the card. It wasn’t anything fancy; white with black lettering on heavy cardstock. Without reading the information, Tessa shoved it into the still unzipped top of her backpack. “See you soon.” She smiled before pulling a cell phone from the side pocket of her backpack.

  ~~~

  The professor watched Tessa stride off, scanning the crowd for someone she recognized. He heard the theme song of Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade coming from his cell phone. His wife had downloaded the ringtone for him just a few days earlier. The choice made him chuckle.

  “Hello.” He said drily, having lost the jovial tone in his voice. “Yes. She just left.” He could still
see Tessa Scott with her cell phone to her ear, stopping occasionally to look into terminal shops for someone. “You didn’t tell me Tessa Scott was such an enchanting creature.” He listened to the voice on the other end of the phone. “The business card I gave her will jam her phone for the next twenty minutes. That should be plenty of time for you.” The call ended before the phone ended up in the pocket of his jacket.

  ~~~

  For the tenth time Tessa looked down at the information her friends, Shelly and Kate, had given her before they departed earlier in the morning. The overhead monitors, full of information concerning arrivals and departures, led her to believe they should be waiting for her. She wasted nearly a half hour searching for them. But they were nowhere to be found and they weren’t picking up their phones.

  She’d given up on finding Carter. Maybe he had been a figment of her imagination. Dreams conjured up Captain Hunter of the Enigma. Now she felt silly thinking the possibility someone like Carter would be flying her to Washington D.C.

  Tessa dialed again, wondering why her phone dropped each call. Whatever was keeping her from contacting her friends for the last twenty minutes suddenly disappeared. This time someone picked up. “Shelly. Thank heavens. Where are you?” Spinning around her eyes searched for friends to magically appear. “A bar.” Taking a deep breath, she rolled her eyes upward to keep from sounding irritated. “Seriously, couldn’t you wait until tonight?”

  In the end knowing her two friends liked their fancy drinks and a good time forced her to smile. They jumped at the chance to come on this trip with Tessa, even though they knew her ‘good girl’ image might spoil their fun. The three of them were best friends at work.

  “Okay. I’ll be right there. Don’t wander off.” Tessa folded the paper, slipping both it and the phone back in the front pocket of the backpack.