Black Mamba

by Tierney James

  “Where is everyone?” he asked as the two women stopped at the bottom step. “Usually this place is a madhouse on open-clinic days.”

  The women surveyed the area and shrugged. “All healthy, sir. You have healed everyone.” This was followed by a hearty laugh. Although the doctor joined in, an uneasiness came over him.

  “Where are your husbands? They are usually here helping out.”

  “They are helping at the camp, sir. The president brought extra people with him, and they were understaffed. A big feast is planned. Lots of work to do with soldiers, security, and staff around.”

  “Yes. I got an invite, but I’m not going.”

  “What? I want to go but I have to watch my sister’s children while she works in Gaborone. My mother will be tired.” The young woman stuck her lip out.

  The older woman gave her a playful shove. “You were not invited. You only want to see Handsome Jones.”

  Dr. Girard had spotted his son talking to her several times. “Handsome? He is a good man. Maybe too old for you.” He guessed her to be in her early twenties and Louis, or Handsome was a good fifteen years older. “How about that young guide who takes out the big-game hunters?”

  “He is stupid, Dr. Girard. I want a smart man. Handsome knows many things.”

  Dr. Girard only nodded and decided to speak to his son about the infatuated girl the next time they met. Everyone still believed the two of them were great friends, not father and son. Gossip traveled at the speed of sound in the Okavango, especially when rumors involved a relationship between a white doctor and a black son.

  “Why don’t you run along to your homes. You have been working very hard the last few weeks. I imagine someone is about if I need anything.”

  The women giggled. “Thank you, Dr. Girard. I’ll come back in a while to see if things have changed. It is still early.” Even as the older woman spoke, the younger of the two skipped happily away down the path leading to their village some three-hundred yards away.

  “Be careful!” he called, watching them disappear through the trees. The village was a ten-minute walk, and rarely were there problems. But he never stopped worrying about the locals who supported his work and had become like family. Soon he would be here full-time to continue the work he so loved. Timing was everything. When the diamond returned to its rightful place among the people of Botswana, he could relax.

  With Great Britain’s young prince giving his fiancée an engagement ring with a Botswana diamond, the world now wanted to see what drove one of the royals to desire a stone from this small country. Maybe it had been a good time for his son to return to his birth home.

  When the women disappeared from sight, he looked around the grounds. A lost baby baboon wandered around aimlessly then scampered away when the doctor chuckled at the sight. Only the warm noon breeze rustling through the palms broke the silence. Even the birds had stopped their lazy calls to mates. Uneasiness washed over him. He decided to call it a day and had turned to go inside when a uniformed man holding a rifle across his chest stepped in front of him.

  Dr. Girard stepped back and grabbed the doorframe to keep from falling. But the menacing man stepped closer, and the doctor’s foot slipped. In an instant, the doctor tumbled backward down the steps and hit his face on a shiny boot at the bottom.

  He moaned but tried to push himself up enough to see the person before him. When he could only get to his hands and knees, a command was given and two strangers in uniforms jerked him to a standing position to confront a familiar face.

  “You seem to have had an unfortunate fall, Dr. Girard.” The deep voice sounded wise and reassuring.

  He blinked to clear the blur, or was it blood running into his eyes?

  “P-President Baboloki?” he stuttered then squinted against the afternoon sun.

  “Yes,” he spoke matter-of-factly. “I wanted to have a conversation about a few things.”

  Dr. Girard was handed a hand mirror and a rag. He tried to wipe the blood from his eyes, making his face resemble a Sioux warrior headed off to war. “I need to sit down,” he mumbled. His legs wobbled, but the soldiers caught him under each arm and shook him until he stood straight.

  “You hit your head several times, Dr. Girard. I hope you don’t have a concussion.” President Baboloki twisted his mouth into a wide smile revealing yellow teeth. “Or worse,” he chuckled. “My men are going to take you inside then set up a safe perimeter against unwanted visitors.”

  “Unwanted visitors?”

  “We wouldn’t want to be interrupted by some of the locals coming for medical care.” The president folded his hands in front of his body.

  “That is why I am here, to take care of the sick,” he mumbled as he turned to look at each soldier holding him up. “I am a doctor.”

  “And I want to talk to you about that. It seems you have a personal interest in this village.” He swung out his arm as if taking in the whole compound. “I’ve heard you have a history of saving lives, even before you opened this clinic.” He patted the doctor’s shoulder. “So unfortunate this place is constructed of shoddy materials.” Baboloki sighed and took a moment to scope out the surrounding area. “I’ve never been a fan of thatched roofs. Looks like a fire hazard.”

  “Thatch was used only on the small pavilions for patients to wait out of the sun.”

  “Yes. I see the roof of the clinic is metal. Very proactive in dry seasons when fires sometimes sweep across the savanna and delta.”

  Dr. Girard shook off his guards. “What do you want?”

  Baboloki leaned closer and pulled at the doctor’s ear. “The truth.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Tessa observed how Baboloki’s secretary invaded Keeya’s personal space as the three of them walked back to their tent. She likely spied on her for the president, further proof Keeya was not a willing member of his staff. But if true, why hadn’t she escaped years ago? Surely there were times his guard had been let down or opportunities presented themselves.

  “Keeya, I’m doing some work on a book called, The Women of Africa. Can I interview you on tape, maybe use my phone to record?”

  Keeya glanced at the secretary who halted in front of their tent with an announcement. “We have a lot of work to do today before the president returns from his hunt.”

  The president had left earlier, taking his secretary aside, both of them speaking in hushed tones. His exit seemed to carry a lot of fanfare with his staff. The camp director passed along the information that the president would not be returning until late afternoon.

  “I promise I won’t be long. I’d also like to interview you,” Tessa chirped enthusiastically. “After all, you work for the president and see lots of history-making events. The State Department needs to see how the women of Botswana are changing the face of Africa. Oh, please say you two will do it,” Tessa coaxed.

  “We go together,” the secretary snapped. “I promised the president I’d make sure Keeya would be looked after in case she had another spell like yesterday.”

  “Sure. That would be lovely.” Tessa beamed. The disappointed expression on Keeya’s face broke her heart. “Naledi, I’ll interview you first since you have the ear of the president.” The ego stroking seemed to be working on the woman. Tessa pulled out her phone and punched the record app. “Shall we sit on the deck?” The woman nodded, and the three went up the steps.

  “Don’t you have a tour to do?”

  “Yes. They said it would be a short wait. The president pushed off first, and our guide needs to finish up the breakfast cleanup. This is a great time. Thank you for helping me out.”

  The secretary offered an apathetic nod. “I’m very busy, so let’s begin.”

  “Of course.”

  Tessa asked the secretary what she felt were benign questions about her work, where she came from, and her family. She even let her voice turn a little squeaky and asked a couple of dumb-blonde type questions. The woman nodded and gave a thin smile then pointed at the phone to st
art the interview. With a giggle and flipping her hair out of her face, Tessa believed she’d pulled off the picture of a stupid American who had too much money and not enough to do except write a book nobody would read. The only down side of the interview was Keeya grew solemn with a look of panic in her eyes. She must have feared she’d confided in the wrong person about her predicament.

  Tessa sighed with relief when Chase ran up the deck steps. “Hey, there you are. Ready to go?”

  “I sure am. Maybe today won’t be as exciting as our little adventure yesterday.” Tessa laughed like she didn’t have an ounce of sense.

  “I’m sure our guide won’t let that happen. Besides, the president said his men are all along the way looking for trouble.” Chase winked at the other two ladies. “Oh, Naledi, the cook and Peter want to talk to you about tonight’s dinner for the president. I told them I’d tell you. They’ve been waiting a while because I couldn’t find Tess.”

  The secretary stood and brushed down her simple cotton dress. “Thank you, Ms. Scott.” She turned to Keeya. “You’ve got work to do.”

  Keeya’s round eyes narrowed with an icy calm. “Yes. Right away. Sorry about the interview,” she addressed Tessa.

  “No problem. I got what I needed,” Tessa said happily as she looped her arm through Chase’s.

  The secretary disappeared down the steps and walked briskly toward the camp facilities.

  Chase turned to Keeya and dropped the jovial tone. “Come with us.”

  “What?” Keeya took a step back.

  Tessa moved to her side and laid a hand on her arm. “I’m not as dumb as I pretended. We’re getting you out of here, Keeya. We can talk later.”

  “Then you believed me when I said I was in danger and that Baboloki wanted to kill my son if he found him?”

  Chase pulled Keeya down the steps after him. “Yes. We need to get you to a safe place, Keeya.”

  “Dr. Girard might be able to hide me,” she said easing down the stairs hand in hand with Tessa.

  “Maybe, but not today. That is an obvious place to look since your old village is nearby. You’re going to have to trust us.” Chase pulled Keeya behind Tessa then stepped in front of both women. He hurried them toward the boat dock where a man waited. “This is Joseph. He works for Dr. Girard.”

  The man nodded to Keeya.

  “You can trust me. My parents were killed by Baboloki’s soldiers years ago.”

  “And you survived?” Keeya sounded amazed.

  “Barely. Several of us were playing down by the delta when they came. We hid in the papyrus at the water’s edge. When they left, we slipped back into the village to see everything on fire.”

  Keeya took his hand and got in the mokoro then wiped at her eyes. “So young to see such horror. I’m sorry you had to suffer.”

  “I saw you that day.”

  Keeya covered her mouth to cover a whimper.

  The man went on. “Baboloki beat you then forced you to go with them. I wanted to help, but…”

  “You were a child.” Tears squeezed from the corners of her eyes. She swiped at her tears. “How did you survive?”

  “My friends and I waded across the delta then took the long way to another village to warn them. They all escaped before Baboloki’s men caught them, but their village was also burned. They took us in and raised us.”

  “You two can catch up later. Joseph needs to get you out of here. We’ll meet up later, Keeya.” Chase tilted his head in the direction for them to go then looked over his shoulder. “We need to slow things down here so you can get a head start.”

  Tessa waved goodbye and searched for some encouraging words to offer, but the truth loomed over the situation like a dark cloud.

  Even before the boat disappeared into the channel of tall grasses, Tessa and Chase strolled back toward the dining area where Carter and Sam waited. The secretary continued to listen to the cook and camp director discuss plans for the evening meal. A couple of times, Naledi interrupted them with a shake of her head and spoke in a firm voice.

  “Where’s Handsome?” Tessa inquired as she scanned the area. “He is making me really nervous. Do we tell him about Keeya?”

  “Not yet. We need to talk to Dr. Girard and find out what happened on the day Baboloki raided the camp and village. Maybe it wasn’t Baboloki but someone else in charge.”

  “I believe it was. Too many coincidences.”

  Sam put her hands on her hips. “If you found the trail, then Baboloki can, too.”

  Tessa ignored the dig and tried not to let Sam’s snarky remarks cloud her ability to think.

  The agent went on. “With that article in the news about the lost Kifaru being found, the president has to be feeling a little insecure.”

  Chase retold the conversation with him from breakfast. “He didn’t like my interest very much. I’m not comfortable with Handsome being here, either. We’ve got to get him away from the president before he finds out the truth. Hell will break loose if he realizes Keeya is his mother and has been held prisoner all these years.”

  “Where did Baboloki head off to so early this morning?” Carter poured himself another cup of coffee and offered to fill Sam’s, but she waved him off. “There were some new guys I hadn’t seen before. Looked military.”

  “Not sure. They arrived in the motorboats shortly after breakfast but never disembarked. His security team met them on the dock. The head guy, Dage I think, gave orders to some of the locals. Looked like they were loading coolers like we had yesterday with soft drinks, maybe some lunch. If they’re big-game hunting they won’t be coming back in like us.”

  Chase nodded to the secretary when she saw him chatting with the others.

  Naledi kept turning her head as if searching for someone then headed back toward her tent.

  “Guess she’s afraid Keeya cornered us.”

  “Ready, folks?” It was Handsome. “Our chariot awaits. That means we’re in the Land Rover today. Lots to see and no hippopotamus to worry about. Well, unless we get between them and their favorite watering hole.” They moved out behind the dining area to the vehicle.

  “What are those marks on the side of the car?” Tessa touched the indentions.

  “A hippo was on one side of the road and the water on the other. I drove between them, and she took offense at that.”

  Tessa gasped then shivered. “I’m thinking those dancing hippos in Fantasia were a little overdone.”

  Everyone found seats in the vehicle that resembled an open-air truck, the back slightly higher than the front seats.

  “Meanest creatures on God’s green Earth.” Tessa sat in front with Handsome, camera at the ready. “Not to worry. That disgruntled hippo moved on to another part of the delta. Today we’ll see lions and if we’re lucky, some giraffes.”

  The engine roared to life, and a cloud of dust kicked up when he moved down the open road. “There are reports of a pride of females stalking some impalas not far from here. With any luck, you’ll get to see a kill up close and personal.”

  Tessa experienced both a thrill and a sense of foreboding at the thought of seeing a lion bring down a defenseless impala. She’d watched such moments on numerous nature programs over the years without batting an eye. The parallel of Keeya trying to escape Baboloki reminded her of the wilds of the Okavango.

  The car veered off the road with a bounce then pulled up under a mopane tree. A swirl of dust followed them as Handsome killed the engine. He used his index finger to push back his ballcap before looking through his binoculars. Handing them to Tessa, he pointed to something in the distance.

  Squinting first, Tessa then looked through the binoculars.

  “Over there at your ten o’clock.” Handsome pointed as he leaned forward.

  “I see them,” Chase whispered.

  “I don’t—” Before Tessa could finish, a heavy thud hit the hood of the Land Rover and black spots filled her vision. She screamed and dropped the binoculars and tried to backpedal out of
the seat. A large arm slammed her back in place.

  “Sit still.” Handsome spoke between clenched teeth.

  A magnificent leopard stood like a statue, gazing out at the impalas who had started to leap in a desperate attempt to escape the approaching lions. Then, suddenly, the leopard turned his head and stared at Tessa.

  “Whatever you do, don’t look him in the eyes,” Handsome whispered. “Don’t look. Him. In. The eyes.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Keeya sat quiet, her back straight as an ironing board while Joseph poled her through the swamp. The tall grasses waved gently in the morning breeze. Her grandmother used to say it was God’s way of saying goodbye to the cold air in the morning so the sun could do its job. Closing her eyes, she lifted her face to the sun and listened to the nothingness that filled the Okavango.

  So very quiet. The beauty of no sound let everything else be experienced; the movement of water, the flight of birds, the brittle grasses touching the papyrus along the bank and even the voice of God whispering in her ear. If she were to die this instant, her heart would be free of the trappings of Gaborone and her jailer.

  “We will pull in soon, Miss Keeya,” Joseph spoke almost too low to hear. Voices carried far in the Okavango. “Someone will be waiting for us. You will be safe.”

  She could never repay this kindness from strangers who believed in her. The only thing she could offer Joseph was a smile of gratitude, as she watched him move the mokoro through the channel through the tall papyrus. The sound of motorized boats roared like giant pterodactyls across the water.

  “What is it, Joseph?”

  “Boats are coming in the open water. We hide so they not see us, Miss Keeya.” Soon the sounds faded. “They go another way, I think.”

  “Is that a problem?”

  Joseph waited before poling back into the channel. “Baboloki has men patrolling the waters. He is a suspicious man. Guess he has enemies and must be careful.”

  Keeya loved how quickly the quiet swallowed up the sounds of progress and left the Okavango as it had been for hundreds of years. She drew strength from this place. Once all was lost and now there might be a future for her, for her son. If she could only hold him, kiss his cheek and tell him about his father who gave his life so he could carry on the work of the people of the Okavango and Kalahari. All people in Botswana needed a voice. The breath of life whispered on the warm breezes touching her face.