Black Mamba

by Tierney James

  No kidding, Captain America. “It’s really cold.” A trembling voice followed by a fake effort to rub her arms was a feeble attempt at normal. He cocked his head then arched an eyebrow as if he didn’t believe her.

  “The water could have been hotter,” he confessed.

  “Yeah. I like it really hot,” she chuckled, trying to hide her nervousness. When a grin lifted one corner of his mouth, she blurted out, “I mean the water.” A sudden rush of heat filled her face.

  “Of course. What else would you mean?” He nodded toward the bed she’d tripped over. “The leg has a slight bent angle. Probably how you caught your foot. Hard to see in the dark.” He moved around her and peered out the screened front door. “Do you want me to lower the flaps for us tonight so the light won’t be a problem?” When he turned his head to get an answer, Tessa let her hand go to her throat then let it slide down her chest to her waist. Chase’s gaze followed the movement.

  “I don’t think the light will bother me. How about you?” Tessa hoped she sounded confident and blasé.

  “I think having a little light would be good tonight,” he offered in an even tone.

  “Why do I get the feeling we’re talking about two different things?” Tessa wished she could be more like Sam in these insecure moments.

  “You tell me. You’re acting like you have your finger in a light socket.” He faced her. “There are two beds. Two. Count them. One. Two.”

  A wave of embarrassment forced a nervous stutter. “I-I’m not concerned about that at all.”

  “Then what? Tessa, we are working. You understand the way I feel about mixing business with pleasure. Your Bobby will never find out we shared a tent. Relax.”

  “His name is Robert. Again. I’m not concerned.”

  “Besides, you’re not my type.” Chase turned away to look back outside then unzipped the door.

  Tessa bristled. “Type? You have a type?” His low chuckle was a clear warning to be careful. “Pray tell, what is your type?”

  “No. I wouldn’t want you to stop being your perky little self to please me.”

  Tessa stormed toward the door only to be cut off by Chase’s tall frame. “Why do you delight in making me uncomfortable?” She exhaled an angry breath.

  “Because I can. You really think because we’re friends and colleagues I’ll take advantage of you, Tess?” He raised his chin slightly then glared down his straight nose. “I have too much respect for you to do that.”

  “Oh,” she whispered, ashamed of her Victorian concept of how a man and woman should act around each other. “It’s, well, I don’t know how I’m supposed to act with all of this. If Robert ever found out—”

  “He won’t,” he insisted. “Be yourself.” He sounded like a patient father. “I’m sorry if I make you uncomfortable. I’m not going to force myself on you. We kid like this all the time. Means nothing.”

  She refocused her eyes to the floor.

  “I would do anything for you, baby.” He always called her that when he got sentimental. “I care for you and, whether you admit it or not, no matter how many names you call me—you care for me, too. You are the one person I didn’t have to worry about taking me the wrong way.”

  Now she couldn’t resist meeting his gaze. How could she speak frankly without sounding like she had a serious crush on him? “I would do anything for you and yes, we kid around a lot. Sorry. I’m a little uneasy.” The anticipation in his eyes didn’t help with her rapid heartbeat. “You’ve always been there for me when I needed you most.”

  “Yeah, and it’s turning into a full-time job,” he mused. “We’re going to sleep together tonight, Tess. Nothing will happen. I tease you a lot when no one can hear us, but I would never take advantage of you.”

  “Guess I knew that. I have a certain amount of guilt because I enjoy these moments a little too much.” She tried to resist but could feel a suppressed grin spreading across her mouth.

  “Me, too. We’re going to have to have a serious talk about that one of these days. I’m not a saint, Tess. You know that. If you ever give me the sign you want more than what we’re doing…”

  “Good evening.” Handsome ran up the steps of their deck and came straight for the front door. Tessa and Chase increased the space between them. He pulled the door open for Tessa to join him, but dropped it when Chase tried to exit. “I hope you are hungry,” he said, pulling Tessa to the railing. “I’ll get your friends and we’ll be off.” But Carter and Sam were already descending the stairs of their own place, each carrying a flashlight.

  Chase’s expression had grown solemn. She wished they’d been able to conclude their conversation, but the moment had passed. She stretched out her hand, and he came to her, taking it as if it were a common gesture then led her down the steps to join their friends. The charade had begun.

  ~ ~ ~

  Baboloki read the intel one of his aides dropped off an hour earlier. He chewed the inside of his jaw after scanning it a second time. The cries of the peacocks in the garden drew him to the window to see if there might be a disturbance. A guard patrolled the grounds with a rifle cradled in his arms, sensors flipping on a dim light as he passed. Another guard stood outside the veranda, posed statue-like.

  The information he’d received confused him. The ridiculous story of the Kifaru diamond had resurfaced months ago, stirring up interest among the tribal people in the bush and Kalahari. For years, he’d been able to control such gossip by removing the person who dared repeat the story of long ago. The details of the day he led his soldiers to round up troublemakers still haunted him. His men were only supposed to find the one they called John and any of his family and friends who tried to protect him.

  Such a man brought too much education to his people, put ideas in their heads of needing more than the government was willing to supply. A school and medical facility in the area could never be properly staffed. Improved communications and a voice in how Gaborone ran the country would only give them too much power.

  The men with money promised him a position in the government if he would silence such resistance. John was loved and respected among the people of the Okavango. His father and grandfather were trailblazers in uniting the country. But other men took over and pushed back so their pockets would remain full. And his own desires to be something other than a soldier drove him to be ruthless that day.

  If he could bring John to Gaborone, show the tribes how complaints might change their lives, then their voices would grow silent once more. The story of the Kifaru diamond and its worth convinced Baboloki if he could secure that prize, then he could begin a new life, one with dignity and respect. But the diamond remained elusive.

  “Find the one they call John,” he’d ordered his men. “Bring him to me.”

  But all along the Okavango, the word went out that soldiers were coming. The people waited for them with clubs, rocks, and clumps of elephant dung to throw at them. They came by boat and put in a mile downstream. The village men waited near the water, preventing them from gaining the upper hand. By the time the smoke curled upward from their torched village, there was little to save. Yet they fought in spite of guns mowing them down.

  Women screamed and ran with crying children in tow. Several of his men took advantage of the young girls before killing them. The youngest men who were caught were beaten and promised protection if they led them to John. Either fear of the soldiers or a rebellious nature remained an obstacle until one woman was dragged before him.

  “Where is your husband, woman?” Colonel Baboloki growled as he raised her chin with the barrel of his gun.

  “She just had a baby, Colonel,” the soldier who captured the woman informed the colonel. “The child is missing.”

  The colonel smirked at the woman who glared at him boldly. “Where is the child?”

  “My baby died. My sister took the body to bury. Have you no mercy?”

  “None. And apparently your husband doesn’t, either, or he wouldn’t have left
you to us.”

  He raised his chin at the soldier. “Take her to the boats.”

  Though frail, she fought like a lioness to escape then cried and screamed until a soldier slapped her down. With some effort, he managed to get her up and into the bush where they disappeared.

  Baboloki turned to his aide. “He can’t be far. Torch all the huts. Hunt down the ones who escaped and leave them for the hyenas.”

  “Colonel.” Another soldier approached but kept his distance. His uniform had splotches of dung on the stomach area mixed with blood. “We have found him. He runs toward Camp Kubu where the foreigners are.”

  “Kill them. We don’t need witnesses. He’ll hide among them.”

  “Yes, sir.” He turned and left.

  The crackling of fires, the reek of death and fear hung heavy in the air, and the voices of begging for mercy swirled around him, but all he could think about was where the Kifaru diamond might be.

  He remembered that day as if it were yesterday, still longing to discover the location of the Kifaru. Why wouldn’t the woman tell him?

  “President Baboloki?” His head of security entered with a tall woman in her early sixties.

  “Yes, Dage?”

  The steely-eyed woman wore her gray hair so short it resembled a cap pulled tightly about her head. She was still beautiful after all these years in captivity: skin the color of mocha, obsidian eyes full of wisdom and resistance.

  “Oh. Thank you, Dage.” The president extended his hand toward the leather couch. The woman lifted her chin. “I mean you no harm, Keeya. Please. Sit down. You look tired.”

  She did as instructed and tucked her long flowery dress tightly beneath her. Sitting stiff-backed on the edge of the leather cushion, the woman stared across the room at nothing, revealing little about her mood.

  “You look lovely tonight.”

  She shifted her blank expression to him. The full lips narrowed into a frown.

  “Are you well?”

  “Yes.”

  Baboloki moved to the couch and sat next to her. She didn’t move when he slipped his hand onto hers. The weathered skin felt cold as he wove his fingers through her bony ones. “I have news.”

  The lack of interest did not change her focus on something across the room. Given the opportunity, would she kill him? After all this time, the woman still hated him for killing her husband, even though he’d shown her nothing but kindness.

  “I have found your son.”

  “My son died the day you murdered my village.” She turned her eyes toward the emptiness of the room.

  “I have told you many times, that is not true. I discovered your husband, John, carried him into the bush and tried to save him. And for all these years, I have searched for the child throughout the land, thinking one of your people managed to get him away.”

  She said nothing. The woman had worn a mask of indifference for decades.

  “Are you not curious?”

  “No, because he is dead.” Keeya’s voice remained void of emotion. “What do you want of me tonight. Surely you have younger women to amuse you. I am an old woman, and cannot possibly interest you. What of your wife?”

  Baboloki sighed. “My wife is away, and you are correct. There are younger women to satisfy me.” He ran his hand up her arm. She had learned to withhold a flinch of revulsion. “You and I have passed the days of physical intimacy. But we are still friends.”

  This did draw her attention back to him, and she dared remove his hand before turning to stare back at nothing.

  The president stood. “I brought you here to ask you one more time about the Kifaru diamond.”

  “I know of no such diamond.”

  Walking to his desk, he lifted a picture and brought it to her. It was a large diamond lying on a Time magazine cover with a date from two weeks earlier. She squinted at it then up at the president.

  “What is this?” she demanded in a voice that sounded like she’d gargled gravel.

  “The Kifaru.”

  Tears welled up in her eyes and threatened to spill down her cheeks.

  “And your son has returned to Botswana.” He offered a patient gaze. “You soon will be of no use to me at all.”

  Chapter Ten

  During small talk among the guests and Carter’s hilarious stories about his space adventures, Handsome took it upon himself to keep glasses filled with water. After the plates were cleared, bread pudding and hot tea were served. He spoke if addressed, but never interjected a comment or advice on a topic. It wasn’t his place, and doing so would be a good way to lose his job. Smile and nod. That remained his priority for this particular night.

  He wanted to evaluate the guests more than anything. Were they weak, a threat, on vacation, or something else? From what he could find out, these people had no interest in the politics or economics of Botswana. Nothing in their conversations hinted at anything but enjoying the Okavango as it should be experienced, with a camera and a lust for adventure.

  When they moved to the deck fire pit surrounded by camp chairs reminiscent of Hollywood movie sets, their conversation became quieter. Some stared out into the darkness. A lion roared in the distance as something splashed into the nearby Okavango. Discussion followed about what it might be.

  “A hippo often visits the camp. We call him Amadeus. Don’t be fooled by them. Cartoons would have you believe they are lumbering, sweet creatures”— the camp director lit his pipe—“but more people are attacked or killed by hippos in Africa than any other animal.”

  “Even more than lions?” the older British woman asked.

  “That’s right. Don’t try and get between them and their path to the water. They are very much a part of the eco-system of the Okavango. We put up with their short tempers. Not uncommon for them to come onto land at night to feed. Stay in your tents until morning, please.”

  Tessa rubbed her arms and gave a little shiver. The crackling fire glowed on her face, and Handsome suspected she might be falling in love with this place. He knew of her geography background, and a camp like this was swathed in classic textbook adventure. With her hair pulled back in a ponytail and face makeup-free, she looked almost like a woman in her twenties. He also noticed her pretty blue eyes and the sideways glances she gave her boss.

  He hadn’t planned on putting them together in the same tent, but someone had paired them together during the reservation stage of the trip. At least, this way, she’d be safe from the human beasts that could descend upon them.

  The California housewife had affected him more than he’d remembered. Their conversations back in the States had been few, but she’d ended up on his side and believing in him. People like Tessa wanted to believe there remained a certain amount of good in the world. He didn’t buy into that logic.

  Besides being easy on the eyes, she had a funny way of listening to you, like every word out of your mouth was coming from God. Even the sassy, obstinate side of her gave him pleasure. The way she loved her kids and tried to comfort them during a difficult experience they’d shared in the States, gave him insight to her sincerity.

  He regretted abandoning her at Lake Tahoe with Captain Hunter. Leaving the diamond with her could have blown up in his face. The avalanche Hunter spoke of was unexpected.

  Yet there were several things he didn’t like, including her husband, Robert Scott, and her boss, Chase Hunter. One of his contacts, Reeva Kaplan, had told him all about the husband, a flirt and womanizer for sure. Maybe Reeva had it wrong, but his own observations let him conclude Robert was more interested in a successful career than being a good dad.

  Then there was Hunter, a sometimes-rogue agent who took matters into his own hands whenever it suited him. Hadn’t he suffered from the brute’s actions on a number of occasions, like the time in Tunisia where he landed in jail on the captain’s orders? Yet, Tessa appeared to have some kind of control over the man.

  Handsome had never known him to show affection or interest in anything more than loyalt
y to country and his team. Hunter demanded nothing less from them. But he’d seen the look in the man’s eyes when Tessa nearly drowned in Lake Tahoe, and how he’d fumed like a raging maniac when it looked like she’d been taken against her will. The woman held her boss in the palm of her hand. Could she be in love with him or flirting with danger? More likely the poor sap of a captain had fallen for someone totally out of his reach and control.

  The captain stared into the fire while others continued polite conversation. Even Carter and Samantha had quieted, looking a little exhausted from their trip. Once, the captain took Tessa’s hand in his large dark one without meeting her expectant gaze. He rubbed the back with his thumb for a few seconds. She laid her hand on his without diverting her eyes from the camp director who was listing the activities for the following day. Even when he withdrew, she never looked away. It all seemed a little rehearsed. Enigma trained its agents in deception.

  Samantha, probably the most beautiful woman he’d ever met, appeared aloof and mildly irritated at her partner, Carter. That relationship was most definitely rehearsed. She’d not give Carter Johnson the time of day. She was one chick he didn’t trust, and he decided to keep a closer watch on her. Did the rift he’d detected between the two women have anything to do with the sleeping arrangements? Sam had little to no conscience and could be a deadly opponent.

  Carter took the role of good-time-Charlie or comic relief among the four. The other guests seemed quite taken with him, and as an astronaut with a colorful past, the spotlight never seemed to faze him. Carter might be a distraction and paired with Sam, the chances were good, the handsome couple would draw anyone’s attention and imagination.

  “Time for bed, Tess,” Chase said rising from his chair and stretching. When she stood, he dropped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.

  She placed her hand on his abdomen. Still no surprised expression, no narrowed looks of contempt or even an ounce of hesitation on Tessa’s part.

  “See you folks in the morning.” He nodded to the Brits and the Germans as Carter stood and pulled Sam to her feet.