The Enigma Series Boxed Set

by Tierney James

  Tessa pushed his hand off her face. “No, numbskull, I meant food for the children. I don’t want your mouth to ever touch me again.” Tessa worked at making her voice even and nonthreatening before wiping her hand across her lips.

  To her dismay, Darya grabbed her chin and turned her face toward several men sitting near the fire. He poked a free finger into her cheek and laughed. His grip squeezed so hard her mouth pooched like a fish’s.

  When Shirin spoke to Darya, he released her face and stood. After a show of stretching, he exited the cave. His men followed. Rolling to her feet, she gathered the teen in her arms as a show of thanks.

  “What’s his problem, Melanie?” Bonnie, who’d chosen to watch rather than assist, cleared her throat then dusted the seat of her pants. “Are you all right? Did he…I mean he slept next to you all night. I thought…”

  “No. I’m fine. I think he’s more concerned about me putting ideas in the girls’ heads than romancing me. Then there’s the way my eyes change color. I get the feeling I’m comic relief for these guys.”

  Bonnie put her hands on her hips then looked out of the cave opening. She sniffed back a runny nose. “I think they’re trouble. We need to find help and fast. I don’t know if our pilot got a distress call out or not before they crashed.”

  Tessa’s mouth opened in shock. “Who crashed?”

  Bonnie put an arm around her shoulder. “It’s hard to comprehend you don’t remember.” She sighed. “You seemed fine until those men came in and…” She shivered as her arms came up for a self-hug. “They were horrible. The girls, they…” Bonnie took a deep breath. “But you. “ She covered her face with a trembling hand. “And you don’t remember anything?”

  Tessa massaged her forehead in hopes of pulling something forward to memory. “No. Everything is a blank until I woke up yesterday morning. I don’t know who I am, why I’m here. Sorry, Bonnie, but I don’t even know how I know you.” Exasperated, she paced across the small room.

  Bonnie gave a relieved smile, but her pat on Tessa’s back made her ill at ease for some reason she couldn’t identify. “Doesn’t matter. You suffered along with me and then you took action to save us. I’m grateful and so are those little girls.”

  A couple of men returned to the cave with bread and made tea for everyone. They didn’t stick around to be sociable like the night before. Preparations were being made to leave.

  “You need to catch me up to speed, Bonnie. I want to know everything. Start at the beginning.” Even though trepidation engulfed her, she wanted the truth.

  Spot the clues leading to the truth. Trust no one. I’ll always find you.

  Something about those last words made her feel hope. Who was searching for her? “And, Bonnie?” The woman tilted her head. “I think my real name is Tessa. Tessa Scott. I think I’m more than a geographer.”

  Bonnie’s face grew serious. “I know, dear. I know.”

  Chapter 5

  Airspace over Central Asia approaching Afghanistan

  B onnie Finley filled in what had happened in the missing days leading up to their capture. Some of what she heard sounded familiar enough Tessa pieced together the missing parts of her memory. Her mind wandered around until she could focus on one thing.

  She heard the excited voices of women as their plane bounced on wind turbulence. The women’s conference in Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan was a success according to the emails offering congratulations from the international committee. Several hundred women from all walks of life attended. The seven Stan countries were represented along with Nepal and Bhutan. India refused to come because of a conflict flare-up with Pakistan over water issues in Kashmir, an ongoing problem.

  Undersecretary Bonnie Finley continued the goodwill by making sure diplomat’s wives, social outreach organizers, and university instructors shared a plane with them. But when the plane hit turbulence, the excited chatter stopped. The women tightened their seat belts and Tessa’s seatmate’s hands gripped the armrests. The silence that prevailed gave Tessa a few moments’ peace.

  She evaluated the women who were the wealthy representatives of their perspective populations. It was doubtful they would venture out from their walled gardens and armed escorts to mingle among the people. Unlike the wind bouncing them, these women would not shake things up to improve the lot of others.

  The ones who would make a difference had left the conference by humble means and would take days to return home. They were the ones who would carry back ideas to dream. Tessa had bonded with those women. They spoke English better than her Russian and Pashto. Even though she studied to master the simplest of terms and sentences, the language often became jumbled.

  Once, while chatting with two women from Kazakhstan, Tessa had gone on and on in Russian about their embracing change. A real heart-to-heart moment came when one of the women told her in English she’d said their ideas were as bad as frozen fish pee. Horrified at the mistake, Tessa relaxed when her new friends burst into laughter.

  After her workshops on teaching children to love learning and what global organizations existed to assist, Tessa found herself often talking for hours to women who wanted to know more. A few shared personal experiences of tragedy and triumph. She’d helped them set up email, Facebook, and Twitter accounts in hopes of continuing to reach out, they would become successful in obtaining a better life for their children and communities.

  Several days before the three-day event, Tessa and the undersecretary had been wined and dined by the American ambassador. The Kyrgyzstan Minister of Health had provided tours of hospitals and several elementary schools. The show impressed Bonnie, but Tessa’s studies had revealed the interior of the country still lagged behind on services. Being under Soviet control for so many years created a scenario where catching up to the world became a tedious process. The Department of Tourism took pride in taking the two American women to several breathtaking parks, proud of their environmental advances compared with other Stan countries.

  So when the plane shuddered, Tessa enjoyed not having to participate in idle conversation on topics that didn’t include change. Bonnie Finley sat next to her and fiddled with her e-reader for a while then closed it with a sigh. She stole a glance back at some of the other passengers, waved, or gave a thumbs-up before turning to Tessa.

  “You were fabulous, Melanie. It appears your small groups were well received.” She elbowed her and chuckled. “I’m not into chitchat. Thanks for doing it. I’m more of a behind-the-scenes kind of person.”

  Tessa bit her tongue against a flippant retort. Seems to me you are also a kiss-ass kind of person. For someone supposed to mingle with the common people of Central Asia, Bonnie didn’t appear to have a good grasp of what that entailed. Her focus remained on the wealthy women who married power.

  “Glad I could help. Lots of good ideas among those women. Maybe this will be the start of something progressive.”

  “I hope so. Two more quick stops then we’ll stay in Kabul for a few days. I have some business there.”

  “Kabul!” Her stomach lurched. “Is it safe for us to be there? Don’t we need visas?”

  Bonnie laughed. “We’re not taking the scenic route, Melanie. Relax. We’ll be surrounded by some of America’s finest. The ambassador will see to the paperwork. While we’re there, maybe you can visit the new shopping mall.”

  “No thanks.”

  “I’ll see if one of the ambassador’s men can take you around to some schools. Would you like that?”

  “Maybe I’ll catch up on some sleep.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  According to Bonnie, Tessa had decided to visit some of the soldiers who had suffered superficial wounds but were slotted to return to duty after a little recovery time. After a quick shower at the American Embassy, she changed into a pair of khaki pants, short-sleeved army-green T-shirt, and combat boots slotted for the trash bin in the near future. Her black travel wear and heels didn’t fit the Kabul environment. Tessa borrowed clothing that was
a cross between a burka and a raincoat, before going out among the Afghan people. She didn’t want to be perceived as disrespectful by showing her very white arms. While in Kyrgyzstan, she had purchased a lacy white shawl at a local market. Draped over her hair, it made a perfect head covering. One of the Marine guards became her escort and driver as they headed toward the makeshift hospital.

  Some of the soldiers were well enough to sit up and play cards. Others lay on their backs recovering from a variety of either wounds or illnesses. Even a cold in this godforsaken land could set one back. The Marine stayed at her side as she moved from group to group, introducing herself as Melanie Glenn from the State Department. If pressed, she told them of the women’s conference, and they appeared to like the idea and offered more ideas or their approval if it improved the future for kids. A few flirted with her, even though most of them were young enough to consider her a cougar or whatever predator fit a woman in her midthirties.

  Several soldiers let out wolf whistles, drawing a tongue lashing from the Marine, but she smiled at the men and admitted it had been a long time since she’d heard one. She made sure not to appear as if she were flirting in return. These men had left sweethearts and wives back in the States to carry on while they fought monsters each and every day. They were tired, disillusioned, and homesick. Tessa thanked them for their service and offered to contact a loved one back home.

  “Tell my folks I’m okay.”

  “Can you let my son know I can’t wait to see his game?”

  “Make sure my wife knows I miss her so much it hurts.”

  The Marine led Tessa back outside and told her to stand in the shade while he went to get the Jeep. She could remember a blessed Coke machine under a nearby tent awning, right next to a table. In spite of being early October, the sun grew hotter than she had experienced in Kyrgyzstan. The Coke machine helped her decide to take advantage of the shade. She dug in her pockets for change but found only a five-dollar bill. The tent sounded like a hub of activity as she stepped through the open door in search of change.

  From that point on, things seemed a little fuzzy. She could remember a man’s voice swearing from inside. Bonnie shrugged then admitted she didn’t know anything about that.

  “The Marine left you there for some reason. Minutes later, his Jeep blew up. It was a miracle you stayed behind,” Bonnie said, running her hand through strands of oily hair gone straight.

  “Then what happened? How did I get back? Who detained me?” Tessa felt more confused at the new layers of information which didn’t seem to add up.

  Bonnie shrugged and watched the tribesman as they walked out into the morning air. “Maybe we can finish this later. I’d kill for a large skinny latte.”

  ~ ~ ~

  The weather remained cooler here. Captain Hunter and Zoric had hit the trail again in search of their mountain friends who’d failed to show up several days earlier. When they doubled back to the base, they’d come under fire from the Taliban heading north, someplace usually free of this kind of trouble. Chase and Zoric managed to do some damage but were overwhelmed by their numbers. Thanks to some Rangers in the area who came to investigate the gunfire, the Taliban found themselves outgunned. In the firefight, Chase took a spray of rocks to the chest when gunfire peppered the surface in front of him. It hurt like the devil, but he managed to make it back to base without any assistance. He wasn’t about to wimp out in front of a bunch of Rangers when he’d belonged to a Delta Force Team several years earlier.

  Now he found himself waiting again.

  “You’re irritable.” Zoric, a Serbian national from Chase’s past, leaned back against a rock like he’d found a plush pillow and scooted down enough so not to bump his head on the low-hanging roof of their hiding place.

  Chase ignored him as he lifted the binoculars to scout for trouble. He lay on his stomach, far better than trying to fit his large frame inside the small covered area.

  “Why didn’t you try to find Tessa?”

  For the hundredth time, he asked himself the same thing. By the time he’d gotten around to calling the American Embassy, a receptionist had informed him she’d left. “I’m irritable because you keep asking me stupid questions about an Enigma agent who continues to be a pain in my ever-lovin’ neck. Can you shut up about it?”

  “You are irritable because you wanted to romance the honorable Mrs. Tessa Scott. You wanted to strip her of what little resistance kept you apart. You—”

  Chase reached down and picked up a rock the size of a baseball and lopped it backhanded at his partner.

  Zoric’s chuckle sounded more like a smoker’s cough. “Okay. I will mention it no more. This is your business.” He stared out into the emptiness outside the cave then took a deep breath. “At least you will stop worrying about her since she is on her way to the States.”

  Easier said than done. Trouble found Tessa like a heat-seeking missile. For now, he would remember their chance encounter one more time. Remembering the day when she stumbled into the first aid station still managed to remind him of the possibilities interrupted.

  ~ ~ ~

  Military base North of Kabul

  “Damn it! Get on with it. I’m not one of those crybaby SEALs you patch up!”

  Chase watched a woman push inside and grow still, looking around like a lost shopper at the Mall of America. He sat hidden behind a doctor probing a shoulder wound. Another round of swearing spilled out of the doctor’s mouth before Chase pointed at their guest. The doctor’s continued loud and foul language drew a look of surprise from her as she took a step back.

  “S-sorry. I’m lost. I, I needed change for the Coke machine. Sorry.” She took another step in retreat as Chase stood up. The dim light prevented Tessa from recognizing him. As the doctor’s headlamp beam smacked her in the face, she raised her hand and blinked. “I-I’m waiting for my ride. So sorry to intrude.”

  “Tessa?”

  She shifted her attention to him standing in semi-darkness. Her body went rigid. “Chase?”

  The doctor turned his pool of light toward Chase. Her gasp and hands lifting to her throat drove home his need to protect her from seeing his body, naked from the waist up, covered in blood trickling down his chest. Her attention focused on a hole just below his collarbone then dropped her gaze to the gashes and bruises patterning his abdomen. Tears pooled at the corners of her eyes as her body trembled.

  “Tessa.” Chase grabbed a paper gown and slipped his arms through the openings with a grunt. “I’m okay.” He approached her with raised hands. “I’m okay.” He stood inches from his newest agent, but she continued to stare at his covered chest. The blood had begun to seep through the paper. He raised her chin with a bloodstained finger. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

  The doctor pulled out a stool. “Maybe she should sit down.”

  Chase urged her down to the metal stool before pulling his own up next to her, waving the doctor off. “Give us a minute, Doc.”

  “We need to take care of your wounds, Captain Hunter.”

  Chase snarled at the doctor who huffed off to the other side of the tent. “What are you doing here?” His voice grew calm as he leaned toward Tessa. He cringed with a stab of pain, and she reached out to his unshaven face. He touched her soft hands that were such a contrast to his. “Talk to me, Tess.”

  “I-I.” Again the stutter. Her hand slid down his cheek to his neck then tugged at the gown. She seldom touched him with such intimate gestures.

  “It’s not so bad. Promise. I’m okay.” He lowered his head to force her attention back to his face.

  He let her remove the covering and watched a trail of tears ooze down her cheek.

  “What happened?” She reached to touch him again then pulled back her hand.

  A Marine appeared inside the tent with concern creasing his forehead. He glanced at Tessa but shifted his attention to Chase. He straightened and lifted a hand to salute, but dropped it to his side. Soldiers didn’t salute an officer out her
e where someone might decide to take out a leader. Chase waved him off. “Is this boy your escort?”

  “Yes, sir,” he snapped before Tessa could respond.

  Chase patted her thigh. “I’ll take it from here. She’s my responsibility now.”

  “But, sir—”

  “That will be all, son.”

  The Marine pivoted on his heel and exited.

  The doctor strolled back over to frown at Chase.

  “Maybe you should wait outside.” Chase resisted putting his hand to her cheek, remembering how soft her skin could feel. “I won’t be long.”

  Tessa sighed and stood up on unsteady legs. He pointed toward the door.

  Even from where he sat in the tent, he could see her sitting outside at a bistro-size table for a few minutes then stand to pace followed by easing back down at the table. Did she hear the doctor swearing? Tessa didn’t like bad language so he ordered him to bite his tongue if he couldn’t tone it down.

  She fanned herself one minute then patted her chest the next. Maybe her thoughts raced toward a realization of what he did when not teaching Renaissance literature at the university or tracking down terrorists. She understood besides saving her life numerous times, Chase sometimes lived on the edge. Was it possible she never considered him taking part in a combat scenario? Chase had implied his work consisted of diplomatic reconnaissance for Enigma in order to keep one step ahead of whoever would do the United States harm. Now, he needed to explain a few things to her. He’d led her to believe his often cold, distant demeanor had to do with personal tragedy, hoping maybe it would bring them closer. Now she’d want to know why he was here—and wounded.

  “So what are you doing here?” Chase exited the tent with his right arm in a sling, which he promptly removed after sneaking a peek back inside the tent to make sure the doctor hadn’t followed.