The Enigma Series Boxed Set

by Tierney James

  She felt nervous and excited all in the same flood of emotion. “Time?”

  “Soon we will marry. It is time you stop trying to bring back your past. It is no good. We will make a life here in the Hindu Kush. Together. No one is looking for you. I make sure.” His fingers slid down her neck, his lips resting against hers. “I will wait until you are ready for me. But I am getting impatient to make you my wife. Do you understand my meaning, Tes-sa?”

  With his body pressing against hers it didn’t take a genius to know exactly what he meant. “And if I refuse?” she asked in hopes of sounding shy and submissive.

  Darya chuckled as he got to his feet and pulled her up. “You will not.” His confidence showed through his grin. “I can be very persuasive.”

  She touched her cheek and stepped back, remembering the hideous anger flooding his face in the market. He’d become a monster without warning. “Let’s get this done and get back to the children. That’s what I care about.” He moved toward the door. “Where are you going? Are you leaving me here alone?” A number of scenarios chiseled away at her renewed self-confidence.

  “Bolt the door. Let no one in but me. No matter who comes to this door, keep it bolted. No matter what anyone tells you, do not let them in. Understand?” When she didn’t answer, he sobered and followed with a snarl. “Do. You. Understand, Tes-sa?” He motioned for her to stand behind the door and demonstrated the bolt. She finally shook her head with an anxious acceptance and he disappeared.

  ~ ~ ~

  Captain Hunter realized he stood a head taller than anyone else meandering through the street market that showed signs of closing for the day. Both he and Zoric dressed the part of other locals, and he felt confident they wouldn’t draw unwanted attention. Even here in Satan’s hellhole, people would avoid walking too close to Zoric. Both men scanned rooftops and alleys as they made their way to several stalls. An old man asked a few questions concerning their business or destination, but the captain gave as little information as possible at first. Zoric appeared as if he might explode into a murderous rage.

  “I am searching for a group of Kyrgyz traveling with children toward the Wakhan. They are friends.” The captain had rehearsed the words until they sounded right. He asked once or twice, knowing the word would travel fast enough and come back with answers if there were any.

  After inquiring about a place to stay and finding out there was nothing available, the two men accepted an offer of staying in a Tajik’s home with his wife and three children. Although he never saw the man’s wife, he did watch a delicate hand snake out from behind a ragged curtain with a plate of food for the guests. The Tajik lifted his hands over his head in resignation, saying Allah had blessed him with an ugly wife who could cook and three daughters who made life worthwhile in such a harsh land.

  “No. No. Nothing of the Kyrgyz in a while. They are overdue. They are good for business. Buy from us. When the poppies bloom, they are here many days.” He laughed revealing his front teeth barely hanging on.

  “Anyone new in town besides us? Maybe they have seen them.”

  The Tajik rubbed his chin as if lost in thought then slapped his hands together. “Yes. A Taliban.” The man spat on the floor. “He come then beat his wife for all to see. He thinks she disrespected him.” He shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe she did. Then he left. He wanted a large amount of supplies.”

  Chase glanced at Zoric to see if he, too, thought the information curious. “Unusual?”

  The Tajik waved him off. “No. Said he was taking it back to his men and their families. They are making their way south for the winter. It will be very cold here in a few months. They want more and more of our opium. Dogs. All of them. They want to profit at our expense. Sometimes we accommodate.” Again the shrug. “Sometimes not so much.”

  “So this Taliban, the one with the wife, did he want more opium?”

  The Tajik laughed. “No. He wants to trade his opium for food and supplies. He must be rich with the poppy to trade with us. They often very greedy.” He scrunched up his face. “He didn’t look much like Taliban now that I think of it. But I’m not sure. He was not close.”

  “Where is this man now?”

  “I will find out for you. Taliban not a friend to local Kyrgyz. If he saw these Kyrgyz you speak of, they are dead.”

  “Thank you. May Allah bless this house,” Chase proclaimed.

  “Now we have tea.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Tessa sat on a bed not much wider than a cot. The mattress felt lumpy but didn’t appear to be infested with anything wanting a piece of her skin. Because a sheet and pillowcase would have been a luxury, she sat on the burqa with her back up against the wall. Twice a male voice spoke at the door, the first informing her that her husband requested her to come downstairs and a second, who banged on the door, also referred to her husband. She shivered with fear and from the cold. The headache returned. They were in an even higher altitude than where they’d left the children. She hoped they fared better than her.

  Another bang on the door. “Open up!” demanded a voice with a British accent. “You. Come here. Your husband needs you.”

  Tessa cowered at the end of the bed then she heard a weak voice. “Tes-sa. For the sake of Arzo, open the door.” Then a fit of coughing.

  She ran to unbolt the door, but stood behind it as she pulled it open. As soon as the two men came inside, she slammed it shut and secured the bolt. When she turned around, Tessa saw a man leading Darya to the bed. Blood trickled from a cut on his forehead and he held his side.

  “Darya.” She rushed to his side and kneeled on the floor next to him. “What happened?” She forgot herself and spoke in English.

  “Mother of the Almighty, Darya. This is your wife?” The man spoke English as clearly as she did. “And a pretty one, too.”

  Tessa frowned up at the man who resembled one of the Afghans instead of a Brit. “Who are you? British Intelligence?”

  This caused the man to burst into deep laughter. “Did ya hear that, Darya? Me. British Intelligence.” He laughed again. “Not anymore. Darya and I work together from time to time. Try to get the best product for the least amount of money.” He plopped down next to Darya and scooted back against the wall.

  Tessa shifted her glare from the man to Darya in the realization her protector made his living by drug smuggling. “Darya? What is he talking about?” When he didn’t answer, she hurried to the bathroom to get the same wet cloth he’d used on her face earlier. She dabbed at the gash. He winced and jerked away then took the rag to do it himself. “Are you a smuggler?”

  “He’s the king of smugglers, lady. And if I’m right, you aren’t his wife. You’re one of those Americans the hotshots in Kabul are turning over every stone to rescue.” He arched his thick eyebrows and revealed a toothy grin. The man, big boned and square shouldered bore an angular face, weathered from too much sun. A strand of sandy hair hung down on his forehead. His beard and mustache matched the color with a few twisted hairs of gray throughout. The close-set eyes grew round and expressive over a nose too large for such a narrow face.

  Tessa waited for Darya to offer an explanation then asked, “What happened?”

  “Just guy stuff. A little name calling led to some posturing then ‘I can whip your ass’ kind of talk. Seemed to be a dispute over parentage as well.” The man laughed again slapping Darya on the back which drew a groan of pain. “Oh, I’m Mick Cavanaugh by way of South Africa. And you are?”

  “Tessa Scott.”

  “Hmm. I think I need to take you back to the Americans. Maybe I’ll even get a reward.” He scooted to the end of the bed and pushed himself up. “What’a ya say?”

  Darya shook his head. “Do not go with him. You will be in danger.”

  Another laugh from Mick. He lowered his voice and spoke from the side of his mouth as if chewing on the words. “The supplies are ready. I’ll get his horse. My horse is already out back. He’s going nowhere like this. Probably busted a couple of
ribs. That eye is goin’ swell shut here pretty quick. He can’t take care of you. I can.”

  Tessa felt torn. Everything she knew to be familiar matched with Mick. He would take her to safety. Then she could return for the children. But what if she couldn’t? Arzo. That baby needed food and medicine.

  “I need to take those supplies to the children.”

  “No, Tes-sa. He can’t protect you. I can.”

  The image of him knocking her to the ground then throwing her inside the room still flashed to mind. Darya struggled to his feet and something fell out of the folds of his jacket. Tessa reached down and picked up the earrings she’d seen earlier in the market. Holding them in her hand, she made her decision.

  ~ ~ ~

  “You guys stick out like a sore thumb.” Mick engaged the two men sitting outside drinking tea at the old Tajik’s house. “You CIA?” He continued to speak in a mix of English and Pashto.

  Chase and Zoric drank their tea as if they didn’t hear him. The common practice of ex-patriots taking advantage of the chaos in a war-torn country to make their fortunes flourished in this part of Afghanistan. Mick didn’t try to hide his British heritage. Everyone knew him and the business he practiced.

  “Okay. Maybe military intelligence or some of those badass Special Forces. Am I right?” Mick pulled up an empty five-gallon bucket and flipped it over for a chair. “So who are you? Not seen you around here before?”

  Chase spoke in Pashto. “Are you a deserter or common scumbag?”

  Mick chuckled, letting his laugh float on the cold night air. “I like to think of myself as an entrepreneur.”

  Chase dug in his pocket and handed Mick a picture of the woman he’d just left in the hotel room. “She’s traveling with some Kyrgyz tribesman. I’m thinking maybe we need to talk to them about an important matter.”

  Mick examined the picture and whistled. “I’d remember if I ran into this bird. Not many blondes in this part of the world. Heard there were some American women lost up here. Who is she?” He handed the picture back.

  “A friend,” Chase growled.

  Mick stood and stretched. “Nope. Can’t help ya. But if I run into her, I’ll let her know you want a visit.”

  Chase shoved the photo in his pocket. “There’s a reward.”

  “How much?”

  “Enough to be comfortably away from this godforsaken place.”

  “All the more reason I’ll keep my radar up.” Mick grinned and strolled away into the darkness.

  ~ ~ ~

  Tessa followed Darya along the trail leading through a narrow mountain pass. The sun had risen an hour earlier, in time for them to navigate the treacherous path. One side of the trail was formed of jagged rocks and the other a thousand-foot drop. Soon, they decided to take a break.

  Darya’s eye didn’t quite swell closed and the gash remained hidden under the dark hair he pulled down across his forehead. Tessa continued to worry about the ribs, but he assured her they were okay. It was good to have a woman concerned about him again. She appeared to struggle with breathing due to altitude and the constant walking. This made the trip slower than he would have liked. He wanted as much distance between them and the Ishkashim District as possible. She peered over the edge at the perilous fall awaiting her with one awkward stumble and laid a hand over her heart more than once. She drew his attention as she rubbed her forehead but didn’t complain of a headache. The undersecretary could have never made this trip in her current shape.

  “Good thing Mick alerted us,” Tessa said between deep breaths as they exited the pass and took a break. “Scared me to death his banging on the door before dawn.”

  Darya agreed as he scanned the nearby rock formations. It would be a good place for a trap. “Yes. Taliban like to go door to door and scare villagers when they are not ready to meet the day. It gives them an advantage.”

  Darya thought about the two men Mick met the previous evening. He used the Taliban story to get Tessa moving, knowing if the strangers were Americans; it wouldn’t take long to locate them. Wondering who they were and why one of them had a picture of Tessa concerned him. The sooner they reached the Wakhan, the sooner she would be out of reach.

  “I’d love a cup of coffee,” Tessa whispered as she drank in the beauty of the landscape. “I could stand here all day and take this in.” She tensed as something moved high on the rocks. “Darya.” She pointed, seeing it move again. The two horses shied and neighed.

  Slipping his binoculars out of one of the saddlebags, he zeroed in on the movement and handed them off to Tessa. “See. A mother snow leopard and her cub. It is a good sign.”

  She smiled as Darya took advantage of the moment. He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her in front of him so her back rested against his chest. She didn’t resist, continuing to watch the big cats move with stealthy precision across the mountain.

  When his face pressed against her cheek, she lowered the binoculars and stared straight ahead. The thought she might push away at this show of intimate affection clawed its way into his desire to take more of what was inevitable. Instead of retreating, she snuggled back against him and brought his arms tighter around her body. They stood locked in an embrace, staring at the nothingness of the Hindu Kush until the sun warmed the air.

  A great deal of excitement arose when they rejoined the others at their temporary camp. Even Bonnie clapped her hands at seeing them. Once again, Arzo could walk and laugh like the other children. Tessa made a quick soup of some dried vegetables and lamb. Everyone got a dose of acetaminophen for their low grade fevers and body aches. Even though the bottle had expired two years earlier, she remained confident it would be good enough for the children. Even though they didn’t seem to want to play, the color had returned to their cheeks and they rested on blankets near the fire.

  By noon they were on the move again toward the Wakhan Corridor and its promised protection from the Taliban. Darya kept an eye on Bonnie who slumped against the rider she’d been paired with earlier. Something told him the woman would not last an entire winter up here. The children had already suffered altitude sickness, and they were still climbing. Even though Darya stopped every hour or so for the girls to rest, he wondered if it would be enough.

  This time Darya kept Arzo in front of him and sang to her. The supplies were moved from the extra horse Darya bought in the village to one of the yaks so Tessa could ride alone. They stopped early and made camp. More medicine and soup and everyone seemed to be adjusting, including Bonnie.

  By the time they herded the animals near the gathering of yurts that made up their clan encampment the next day, the sun tilted toward the tops of the mountains. The plain, round yurts appeared like giant snowballs set against land which appeared to stretch to eternity and back. A rocky wall extended out some twenty-five feet to form a crude corral. All along the top were piles of yak dung drying in the dry air. Young girls dressed in bright red moved about the corral to milk the goats and yaks.

  Men dismounted as women came out of yurts, some carrying babies, others with toddlers at their sides. The youngest rider, Rashid, greeted an older man and woman who appeared relieved to see him. They spoke then turned their attention to Shirin who dismounted and stumbled two steps before straightening her back. She stared at the ground then to Tessa for support.

  Darya’s horse stomped its hooves. He watched the older man with Rashid take in the unexpected guests. He greeted them as Rashid took both reins in his hands. With a quick dismount, he removed Arzo and placed her with Tessa then walked her horse around the camp, giving Tessa a quick visual tour. Others were pointing at them now, and speaking in low whispers.

  ~ ~ ~

  Wakhan Valley

  “What is wrong, Darya?”

  “It is an old custom, one we don’t use much anymore. The government does not like it, but sometimes it is necessary.”

  “I don’t understand. What custom?”

  “We call it ‘bride kidnapping.’ They think I have
taken a bride.”

  An uneasy feeling made Tessa a little sick to her stomach. “Darya, we need to talk about this. I can’t marry you.”

  “If not me, then someone else will want you. These people are very wealthy. Any man here can pay the bride price to me if I choose.”

  Tessa observed the poverty of these Kyrgyz people. Besides their yurts and animals, she saw no show of wealth. “How much am I worth?”

  “One hundred sheep.”

  She clicked her tongue then offered a grin to her future husband. “Seems reasonable. Guess by bride napping you won’t have to pay one sheep.”

  “I will still have to pay kahn to respect you. But if I sell you, I will be richest man here,” he spoke straight-faced until Tessa shuddered. “I married once.”

  Tessa turned her head toward him in surprise. “Is she here?” She remembered some Muslims took more than one wife.

  Darya pulled Tessa down to the ground, and Arzo reached for him with fragile arms. “She died. Baby, too. This place hard on families.” No emotion crossed his face. Death was a fact of life up here. “I ready for wife number two. You be good wife.” He tickled Arzo’s cheek. “Good mother, too.”

  Taking stock of the Kyrgyz girls milking animals and grown women doing other odd jobs around the compound, Tessa realized she needed a way out and fast. “I’m in serious need of a caramel latte, Darya. Whipped cream, please. That should tell you all you need to know about whether or not I’d make a good Kyrgyz wife.”

  The statement somehow made him chuckle. She wondered if the word “latte” meant something else in his language. Maybe “I can’t wait to make a baby with you.”

  “I talk to Kahn. You help children.”

  Before she could add a retort about not being very good at taking orders, Darya strode away, leading his horse.

  Bonnie limped up beside her, rubbing her butt. “I hate horses. I will never walk in a dignified way again.” The two women watched Darya approach another man who examined Tessa from head to toe in one glance. He grinned at Darya and puffed on his pipe. “What’s going on?” Bonnie tensed.