“And that is the reason you came along. You get it.”
She frowned as she searched out the land around her one more time to gather “clues leading to the truth.” The constant wind rustled with a high and low whoosh then swept across the grassy plains. It gave her a sense of liberation from civilization. The sound of wind turned her thoughts to the freedom these nomadic people must feel. “This isn’t Kyrgyzstan,” she mumbled.
“Then you do remember.” Bonnie hugged herself against the chill in the air.
She inhaled the sweetness of fresh air. The peacefulness pushed aside the trepidation as a desire to dig for the truth welled up inside her. What had she left behind? Were her skills the reason she followed the Finley woman to the ends of the earth? Why couldn’t she remember? As she deciphered pieces from her past, the haunting words of someone she cared about floated into her consciousness.
“I will find you if you are in trouble. I will always protect you, Tessa Scott.”
Chapter 3
Sacramento, California
D irector Benjamin Clark stood at his window to observe the university campus. His hands were clasped in a tight grip behind his back. Anyone who entered the office would not have guessed he felt uneasy about his newest Enigma agent being out in the field unsupervised for the first time. An occasional nervous twitch of his index finger hinted he had second thoughts. Someone walking across the green caught his attention. Her long blonde hair reminded him of the new agent, Tessa Scott. Unlike the girl on the green, though, she was in her midthirties, with three kids and a husband who remained clueless to what his wife did for a living.
In spite of being a reluctant recruit, the woman had been invaluable on several occasions to prevent the United States from falling into chaos. He suspected she’d agreed to enroll in a Ph.D. program for geo-political conflict at the suggestion of his senior agent, Captain Chase Hunter. Although the two appeared to butt heads from time to time, it became obvious a volatile relationship changed how they saw the world and each other.
The director of Enigma didn’t like how their friendship kept him speculating on whether it was safe for the woman to be around the captain. He trained in the art of problem solving. Tessa’s gift lay in the art of making chocolate chip cookies and stumbling into turmoil. How she managed to turn a bitter warrior into a grinning idiot continued to be a mystery. She’d saved an American hero from himself. What the captain gave in return concerned him.
The director thought back to a couple of weeks earlier when he’d watched Tessa stop and stare up at the window. She’d waved with one hand while shading her eyes with the other. The director didn’t return the gesture and pretended not to be amused at her carefree gesture. That was how she affected a person. A woman like her had too much to lose to work with Enigma. He wanted to kick her out of the program, but the president refused to listen. He, too, had been smitten with the head-in-the-clouds-all-is-good attitude. She’d saved President Austin’s life and he would make damn sure whatever Tessa wanted, Tessa got.
Thinking back, he could almost hear her light tap at the door. He pulled his leather chair out to sit down. The door opened slower than he liked. The director expected most people to storm in with a certain amount of urgency. A problem that needed to be addressed always lurked in the halls of Enigma.
“Director Clark?” Tessa eased in and closed the door behind her. “Sorry I’m late. Sam and I had lunch. She wanted me to…”
He motioned for her to sit. Everyone knew Dr. Samantha Cordova disliked Tessa and would do anything to make her appear less than capable to the others in the Enigma group. Samantha had caused her to be late on purpose. “No matter, Tessa. How are you getting along here at Enigma? I understand your studies are going as planned. Dr. Wu says you are a great asset to his work.”
The image of Tessa spluttering a retort about her watchdog had amused him at the time. “Dr. Wu is a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle who plays with my head. But I think you already know that.” She crossed her arms in front of her as the director smirked back a chuckle.
He shuffled papers then put his small black glasses on the end of his nose. Tessa had once told him he reminded her of an American eagle. The glasses had become his way to gain some control of the serious decorum he wanted to maintain. “I hope you are not obstinate to the good doctor. You shouldn’t let Captain Hunter influence you in your opinion of Dr. Wu.”
He stared at her until she squirmed. “Sorry.”
“Now to the business at hand. I have a small job for you which will involve travel.”
Tessa leaned forward. “Back to D.C.?”
“That will be your first stop, but you’ll be going to Central Asia.” The director handed over a file folder. “Vernon is downloading most of the information to your phone even as we speak. He’ll inform you of the password when you leave. You have two days before departure so you can get your family affairs in order and prepare a speech.”
Tessa glanced over the file. “I’m going to Kyrgyzstan?” She beamed. “Are you serious? This is fantastic.” She hugged the folder and stomped her feet in excitement. The director arched an eyebrow in disapproval. “Sorry. Too undignified?”
“Yes.” The no-nonsense man turned his attention to a few notes.
“A women’s conference in Central Asia. This is right up my alley, Ben.” He peered over the edge of his glasses again at her familiarity. “I mean, Director Clark.” Her unrestrained optimism returned as she opened the folder. “A speech? Who will be my audience?”
“It’s all in the folder, Tessa.” He sighed and removed his glasses before squeezing the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb. He stood and walked around the desk to loom over his newest agent. “Now, you listen to me, young lady.”
“I love it when you call me young lady.” She’d learned early in their relationship to circumvent his stoic demeanor by playing the innocent-sweet-airhead card. He fell for it anyway.
Director Clark knew he’d failed to demonstrate his impatience even as he frowned down at her. It remained impossible to be stoic with her. “There may be more to this than meets the eye, so you need to use some of those new skills Sam and Dr. Wu have been trying to pound into your thick head.” Her brightness dimmed a bit. She straightened a little and her eyelashes batted a little faster, a sign of nerves. “By the way, you weren’t my first choice.”
This tidbit of news did wipe the remaining cheerfulness from her face. “Oh. Why?” Tessa’s voice squeaked. “Who did you want?”
The director moved over to his small black leather sofa and sat down. He stretched his left arm along the back while loosening his tie with the right hand. “Martha Stewart.”
Tessa choked on a laugh and turned in her chair to face her boss. “I guess playing second to her is still an honor.”
“Don’t be nosey or ask too many questions. You tend to find trouble where there is none. Stay sharp with ears open.”
“For what?” She joined the director on the sofa with a kind of pensive anticipation. “What’s going on?”
“There appears to be a group working in Central Asia to cripple the efforts of our troops and billions of dollars of goodwill our country has poured into stabilizing the area.”
“This can’t be anything new. Central Asia has fought everyone from Colonial Britain to the Russians and now us. It doesn’t matter the intent. We are uninvited war mongers in their opinions. Besides, the only thing that changed is women in some areas now have a better life. This, too, will be destroyed when we leave.”
“We suspect the women and children are being used as weapons against us.”
“I don’t understand.”
“There’s some indication children are being taken to force women into being mules for the opium trade. With the promise of safekeeping for their families, these women have few alternatives but to submit. Sometimes the children are spared, but other times they are sold into slavery and used in ways I’m not going to go into with you. T
he Taliban are vile, ruthless men who have turned the weak into vessels to carry their own warped sense of justice.”
Tessa shook her head in disgust. “Director Clark, this has been going on for years. What has changed?”
He leaned closer and explained. “Someone in the US is now helping them. Every time we get close to making headway with these people, someone tips off the insurgents and we come out with egg on our face or lose soldiers. For now, this is in Afghanistan and Pakistan, but it appears to be spreading. The Uzbek government as well as Kyrgyzstan have been supportive but are feeling pressure from their people to cut ties with us. I need you to be the fresh face of the United States.”
Tessa chuckled at the thought. “Maybe you should have chosen Sam. She’s the drop-dead gorgeous person around here. The woman hasn’t paid for a drink or meal since she turned sixteen. Men spill their guts to her. Seems to me she should go.”
The fact Dr. Samantha Cordova could be the most beautiful woman he’d ever known rang true. Besides having the distinction of being one of his top agents, Sam, as they called her, embraced her dangerous and resourceful side. Tessa made no attempt at hiding her fear and admiration of the woman. His own brother, the Prime Minister of Israel, wanted to recruit her. The iceberg for a heart continued to be her fatal flaw. The woman placed her trust in physical desire and revenge, very much like Captain Hunter, and showed no signs of possessing a conscience.
“It isn’t the attention of the men I want. You exude warmth and kindness. Women will be more drawn to you, maybe even confide something important.”
Tessa clicked her tongue. “Guess that’s why my nickname is Betty Crocker.” She chuckled like the Pillsbury Doughboy, hands on her stomach.
This time the director did laugh. “Never doubt your ability to catch a man’s attention, Tessa. Your kind of beauty lasts a lifetime.” Her mischievous enthusiasm reappeared. “Not to mention your sense of humor. Anyone who can make Captain Hunter belly laugh has got a secret weapon none of the rest of us own.”
Her expression froze whenever he mentioned the captain. He knew she’d not seen him in a month. The captain remained somewhere in Afghanistan hobnobbing with tribal elders, or so they’d told her. He wondered for the hundredth time if her glazed expression meant she was hiding something.
The director cleared his throat. Her gaze jerked back to him. “Well, anyway, be our ears, Tessa. No investigating or following a hunch.”
“Got it.” She offered a playful thumbs-up. “Curiosity killed the cat, I know.”
The director stood then moved toward the door. “Tell Robert you’re leaving very early the day after tomorrow and you’ll need to stay in one of the dorm rooms here at the university. Be at your apartment by seven so the team can help you sort through things, answering questions, etc.”
Tessa had been mandated to take a small apartment near campus where she could stay when coming off missions or working late. The ability to convince her husband she stayed in a dorm room or airport hotel when she left to do the president’s goodwill work proved an easy enough task. The man lived in a fog of admiration for the president and his wife’s serving him. Her work influenced how people looked at Robert as well. Although a good husband, the man could be a self-absorbed opportunist.
Impressed after meeting the most powerful man in the world, Robert continued to allow his wife to be away from home from time to time. Would the man be so enthusiastic if he knew the truth about Tessa’s strange working arrangement?
“Thanks, Director.” Tessa went to the door and stopped as he swung it open. “I won’t let you down.”
The director wanted to appear severe but gave her a wink instead. “Make sure you don’t or I’ll send you on another training mission with Sam.”
Tessa wrinkled her brow in mock fear. “No pressure there, Director Clark.”
As she moved through the door, he gripped her arm a little tighter than he’d intended. “Be careful and trust no one.”
She patted his hand as if her doing so would vanquish his misgivings. “You know what a chicken I am. So stop worrying. You’re sending me to one of the most beautiful parts of the world. I’ll come back with T-shirts for everyone. Hey, do they have a Hard Rock Cafe? Heather loves the pins.”
“See you tomorrow night, Tessa.” He gave her a little shove and shut the door behind her.
Director Clark didn’t like the feeling of impending disaster still hammering at his subconscious the day before she flew off to Central Asia. He’d second-guessed himself ever since the moment he allowed her to hug his neck in a moment of privacy before he and the other team members left her apartment. What had possessed him to think nothing would go wrong?
~ ~ ~
Afghanistan
Captain Hunter and his partner, Nicholas Zoric, squatted beneath an outcropping of rocks, hoping the shade would give them a little relief from the afternoon sun. A breeze stirred up dust like thousands of brown ballerinas determined to attach themselves to the faces and necks of the two men. Nothing but their eyes moved as they evaluated the landscape, waiting for their contact from a tribal elder. With two hours past the prearranged time to meet, the captain expected the delay. No doubt a scout had moved ahead to check out the rendezvous spot, making sure the Americans hadn’t laid a trap. Protocol dictated they arrive early for the same reason. Waiting for the Afghans to fulfill a commitment became a lesson in patience for most Americans. Time meant nothing to them. Invasion after invasion proved as much. The Afghans were masters of waiting the enemy out.
The empty hours gave Captain Hunter too much time to think about Tessa Scott. He pictured her in her little office, surrounded by the books on geography she poured over with the enthusiasm of an obsessed monk on the trail of the Holy Grail. Most days when going to the office on campus, if they didn’t have a class to teach, they would take lunch together. Their chats on politics, culture, literature, and music became the highlight of his day. They argued over government policy, environmental issues, and books. They would part laughing, something he thought he’d forgotten how to do.
The image of her sitting on the top of a picnic table in a dark alley in Washington D.C., soaked to the bone, always managed to infiltrate his thoughts of her. The curly blonde hair hanging like twisted pieces of rope over her shoulder and down across her breasts drove him a little crazy at times. He’d forced her to kiss him. It had been the one time he’d crossed the line of appropriate behavior with her. In the end, it had saved both their lives. He touched his cheek and remembered the slug upside the head she’d given him mere seconds before she’d responded with passion while their lips touched for the first and last time.
Several days later, when an explosion almost killed him, Tessa whispered a promise to him if he survived. Later, she claimed the explosion created a delusional and imagined show of her real affections for him. He enjoyed bringing it up to get her red-faced and stuttering. A barrage of insults to his masculinity, intelligence, and place on the food chain would end with him laughing so hard he oftentimes felt a tear squeeze onto his cheek. Tessa couldn’t resist his attempt at humor and loved to punch him in the arm as a show of strength.
The problem with their friendship continued to be staying in the safe zone. Chase didn’t cross the line of being with a married woman. He also didn’t want anything to do with Enigma agents. Tessa now met the criteria for double taboo. It seemed like the lives of every woman he’d ever cared about ended in disaster. His mother had died in China as he managed to escape with his sister to safety. His sister died of a drug overdose and not long after, his grandmother died in the Twin Towers on 911. Going a snail’s pace with Tessa made sense if he wanted to remain friends.
Everything he ever stood for, honor, respect, and responsibility, came into question when he thought of the cute housewife from Grass Valley. A mother of three kids, she didn’t need any more complications in her life. Her husband didn’t abuse or ignore his family. Sometimes he wished the guy would so he could make
his argument for her to leave. But he hadn’t, so their relationship evolved into her giving him advice about his love life with the other women he bedded. He often wondered if her words of wisdom hid a deeper desire for him.
Washington D.C. created a past for them. They connected on a dangerous and personal level. The fact he loved her needed to be addressed and soon. His thoughts turned back to the day he’d left for Afghanistan. The night he’d invaded her home and thrown her across the bed remained fresh in his mind.
He dropped by her office to say good-bye on the way to the airport. Sadness clouded her usual happy expression as if she wanted to say something important. When she walked around her desk to stand inches away, his reflexes forced him to take a step back. He feared she might touch him, which would be a mistake in his current state of mind. She’d learned early on, Enigma agents didn’t always like unsolicited shows of affection. She’d once commented it appeared everything they did had to be calculated, evaluated, and tested before touch ever occurred.
“Good luck with your studies and training.” He glanced toward her desk as if by doing so she’d return to her chair.
“Good luck with your hunting and mayhem,” she quipped. He struggled to remain stoic and narrowed his eyes to hide the amusement. “Oh, and by the way, if you ever sneak into my house again, I swear I’ll shoot you.”
“Good thing I took the bullets.” He touched a bruise over his brow. “At least you gave me a good whack with the gun. Nice touch, by the way, with throwing me into the nightstand. I had a headache for two days.” His defenses dropped when he pictured her beneath him again, and he didn’t hide his admiration for her body as his eyes slid from head to toe. “We’ll have to do it again sometime.”
The Enigma Series Boxed Set Page 73