The Enigma Series Boxed Set

by Tierney James

  Tessa jerked her head around to find Bonnie’s nose inches from her own. “I beg you to never mention what I did again. Whatever you think of what I’ve done to get us this far, I’m the one who will have to live with those acts of violence the rest of my life.”

  Bonnie tossed another twig on the fire. “Okay. I owe you that. Your secret will always be safe with me. But, in return, you never reveal the reasons the Taliban came after me. They were all lies, but they would be hard to live down.”

  “I bet,” Tessa growled. “I need some air.” She stood and walked to the opening of the cave.

  Darya joined her as his friends separated to different tasks. He cocked his head toward Bonnie getting ready to bed down for the night. “Problem?”

  “No,” Tessa whispered. “I needed some air.”

  Darya pulled her in front of him so her back rested against his chest. His arms went around her. “You shouldn’t keep things from your husband, Tessa. The woman in there is evil. She has wounded you. Tell me.” His accent had sounded less evident now that she knew the truth. His constant practice of English was also helping them to communicate. “Tell me,” he repeated as his hold tightened around her.

  “She thinks I’m tricking you into taking us back by sleeping with you. I didn’t tell her the truth.”

  Darya rested his lips against her ear. “I doubt you’ve told me the truth about everything. For instance, sometimes you act as if you’re waiting for someone. It’s like you expect to find a familiar face.”

  Tessa took a deep breath. “I am.”

  Darya turned her around to pull her even closer. “Who?” She shook her head, gazing up into Darya’s face. “I don’t know. There’s an image of a man which keeps appearing in my head, my dreams. I can’t shake it.”

  “A lover?” Darya spoke through gritted teeth, and Tessa could feel his muscles tense.

  With a chuckle Tessa reached up to take his jacket between her fingers. “No. I’m sure of it.” She thought a second longer. “I think a friend, like a big brother maybe, someone who I know through my work. I think he is in Kabul. Bonnie told me I visited someone the day before I went to get the girls.” She shook her head. “I want to remember, to make sense of my life, but it clouds up in my head.”

  Darya pulled her in so tight her head lay on his shoulder. “I will get you and the girls back. Then we see what to do?”

  Tessa pushed back. “Are you thinking of my offer to come to the US?”

  “Yes.”

  Chapter 20

  M assoud watched them, calculating the best way to attack the Kyrgyz men who guarded their position. He studied them with concern mixed with curiosity. Why would some mountain tribesmen wander away from their protected environment to come this way? Were they going to market to trade? Since before dawn, he’d observed the men coming and going from the river to fetch water. A thin ribbon of smoke twisted out the front of the cave, he guessed from the remains of a fire. He didn’t recognize the men watering the horses.

  Others waited for the Taliban leader at a camp less than a half kilometer away. A young boy from the group of families living nearby had been searching for a lost lamb when he’d spotted the fire in the cave and rushed back to tell Massoud. The boy had received a pistol as a reward. No matter it hadn’t been cleaned in months and misfired more times than not.

  Still in possession of the horse which aided in his escape several nights earlier, Massoud went to see for himself. His men followed on foot then waited for Massoud to return with further orders. He thought ten men would be enough to attack four Kyrgyz all alone with five horses. He motioned several of his men who tagged along with him, to come closer to observe in case he missed something. He lifted his field glasses at an unexpected movement at the mouth of the cave.

  A disgruntled choke escaped his throat when he recognized the masked Kyrgyz who attacked him in the village who had been ruthless in his attack on his men, killing four and wounding others. His banshee yell still made the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. The man stood within striking distance. A chill ran down his spine as the Kyrgyz adjusted his mask over his nose. A moment sooner and Massoud would have caught a glimpse of his entire face. The dead calm in the man’s relaxed body warned Massoud to tread lightly. Where the man in the mask traveled, so did trouble.

  The original plan to move in on the Kyrgyz, kill them, and then take their horses changed when the bare-chested man in the mask appeared. Massoud admitted to himself he feared the masked brute. His reputation of cold-blooded disregard for the Taliban created unrealistic stories about his ability to murder them in their sleep, take their children, and steal their opium. There were even stories he would cut the heart out of a Taliban fighter and eat pieces of it. In spite of his skepticism, the one-eyed Taliban admitted the growing legend gave him pause.

  “Do they have weapons?” he whispered to his follower, not trusting his vision enough to speculate. After all, this one Kyrgyz always seemed to have the best weapons, plenty of ammunition, and the cunning of a lynx to outmaneuver any threat the Taliban attempted. If he didn’t know better, he would suspect the American Special Forces trained him. But the thought evaporated as a ridiculous notion.

  “Don’t see guns.” The toothless man squatting next to Massoud passed back the glasses.

  “Go back and get the others. Come quiet. The Kyrgyz have sharp ears. Don’t take chances. I’ll stay and watch.” The man slipped away as Massoud lifted the glasses to scrutinize the options.

  He watched the large Kyrgyz turn back into the cave, returning moments later, fully clothed. He tensed when a little girl ran past the legendary tribesman only to be scooped up in his arms and scolded before he set her feet on the ground. The little girl leaned against his legs as he patted the top of her head. Something made the legend turn his head back over his shoulder when a woman stepped outside the cave carrying two bandoliers. He crisscrossed the bullet belts across his chest as the woman stepped beside him.

  Massoud recognized the woman with the startling blue eyes. Her yellow hair swirled around her face in the morning breeze as she pulled a white scarf up over the tangled curls. The masked man leaned into her ear to speak, bringing a smile to the woman’s lips. Whatever he said appeared to give him license to touch the woman in a personal manner, one which she did not rebuff.

  “I will now be able to get even with that filthy Kyrgyz,” Massoud whispered to himself.

  ~ ~ ~

  Darya felt Tessa’s arm slip around his back as he squinted at the surrounding rocks and foliage. The touch of a woman softened his senses. The urge to shake her off conflicted with his rising desire to force the enviable contract to completion. Even standing here, he could smell her skin. A stray curl brushed against his cheek in the morning breeze.

  Her body had felt almost hot against his skin when he’d slipped beneath the blankets after his night watch. She’d cried out several times during the night, perhaps from nightmares. He’d managed to comfort her by rocking her in his arms then whispering Pashto words of devotion against her mouth. Salty tears ran across his lips as she quivered, digging her fingers into his naked back until she fell into a fitful sleep.

  “Last night…” Tessa stopped.

  Darya broke his focus from his safety scan of the surrounding area.

  “Thank you. I know I’ve put you in an awful position.” She stared out at the river while Shirin slipped outside the cave and moved to talk to the young Kyrgyz who lit up when she approached.

  Darya leaned down to Tessa’s ear. “Awful position? Not how I would put it.” He pulled her arm down from his back then lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her palm. “Soon I will show you how much you mean to me. And you will do the same.” Tessa kissed the corner of his mouth and slid her hand down his backside before turning to gather up the children.

  An urgency to conclude this trip created an impatient Darya. He whistled to his men who led the horses closer to the mouth of the cave. Shirin came, too, blushing a
s she moved past Darya. He turned his stern attention on the young man. “Until we get to Kabul, you keep your eyes and ears open. Stay away from the girl. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Darya. B-but.” The boy took a timid step closer.

  Darya turned to see Shirin in the edge of darkness, gathering up their things. “This girl is going to America, to school. You have nothing to offer her except a hard life on the rooftop of the world.”

  The young man patted the neck of his horse. “I think, if the woman comes back with you Shirin will, too.”

  Darya didn’t like the implication. “If? My wife goes where I go,” he snapped. “As to the girl, we will see. Now do your job. Keep watch. We will prepare the horses.”

  The young man led his horse away then took up a position to keep watch.

  ~ ~ ~

  Chase experienced another night of fitful sleep. The sun was not yet up when he prepared to leave. Zoric and the two Kyrgyz mumbled a complaint, rubbed their backsides while taking their tea before tying their bedrolls on their horses. By the time everyone had mounted, Chase had already exited the camp without them. He trotted the horse knowing the others would catch up. He just wanted a few minutes to pull his thoughts together. The rhythm of man and beast working together gave him a sense of calm.

  Once he gained some peace concerning Tessa, he slowed the animal to a walk. His thoughts returned to her. Envisioning the traumatic events which engulfed her in recent days fueled the images of the woman he’d come to admire being destroyed. Contact with the Taliban, watching the Black Hawk go down followed by the beating of a soldier sent to protect her would terrify a hardened warrior much less a PTA president from Grass Valley, California. Memories of her optimistic attitude and musical laughter played on the recesses of his mind. Would she still possess those things he cherished about her or would a mental darkness suppress the brightness she brought to the lives around her?

  Gunfire pulled Chase up short. Zoric and the two Kyrgyz joined him.

  Chase turned to his guides. “Weapons?” They pulled out their rifles.

  “We are close, my friend. Do you hear water?” Zoric stood up in the stirrups, squinting his eyes toward the distant horizon.

  The two tribesmen informed Chase of a place on the riverbank where they often stopped for the night. “Go upstream to cross. With no packs, we can get out fast and circle back. Shallow cave. Women and children there.” The tribesman pointed ahead of them as another shot rolled across the steppe.

  Chase found it difficult to understand the Pashto, but he caught the gist of the conversation. The tribesmen clicked their tongues as the horses were given their head to run unrestrained. They didn’t wait to see if Chase and Zoric could keep up. It appeared their own private priorities had kicked in, leaving them to fend for themselves. Something now drove the Kyrgyz headlong toward danger as they rode low in their saddles toward a river which appeared not to be as shallow as expected. The five men plunged their horses into the icy waters, ever mindful of the possibilities awaiting them on the other side.

  ~ ~ ~

  The children were mounted behind their riders. This time Shirin and Pamir rode behind her young man, Rashid, and seven-year-old Marta clutched the back of Tessa’s robe. The horse danced around at first, but Tessa managed to get it under control as she rode up alongside Darya. He carried Arzo behind him this time, explaining to put her in front would make her an easy target if they came upon the Taliban.

  Bonnie used a small boulder to climb onto her horse as Toiluk held the reins. She grunted once she’d fallen into the hard saddle. After making a show of straightening her clothes, she grabbed the reins from the man who stood on the ground, unaffected by her display of impatience. She failed to offer a thank you, sorry I made you wait, or appreciation of any kind. “I can’t wait to be shed of these animals,” she fumed at Tessa as Toiluk lifted another little girl to ride behind her. “I think I’m getting saddle sores.”

  Tessa winked at the child, Son-Kul, who stuck out her lip in disappointment at her riding partner. “Want Miss Melanie,” she whined. “Please, Miss Melanie.”

  The Kyrgyz glanced from the child to Tessa who agreed to the request. Snatched from Bonnie’s horse then tossed up in front of Tessa, Son-Kul wiggled with pleasure. Although seven years old, her small statue hinted at malnutrition. She bounced with joy as she leaned back against Tessa who kissed her cheek then whispered, “I love you.”

  “You spoil them.” Darya faked a frown at the two little girls.

  Tessa straightened her back before patting the leg of the child behind her. “And what of Arzo.” She pointed at the youngest hanging on for dear life to Darya’s back. “Do you not melt at the slightest sound of her voice?”

  Darya twisted in his saddle to level a stern frown back at Arzo who offered a giggle. “I would feed her to my yak if she were a big enough bite,” he proclaimed with exaggeration. Arzo sucked in her breath in fear, making Darya chuckle at her reaction. He patted her leg then turned his focus to Tessa. He switched to English. “Be her mother, Tessa. We need a child.”

  The deep emotion in his narrow eyes could not be covered by the mask he wore. Tessa felt like a hostage under his penetrating gaze. He brought his horse up so close so that their legs touched then reached out to stroke her cheek. “Maybe we stay in the lowlands when this is over.”

  Tessa laid her hand on his fingers. “You can’t go into Kabul with me. Someone might find out who you are.” Darya withdrew before turning his head to scan the area around him. “The government woman does not know who I am.”

  “You don’t trust me, do you?” Tessa leaned toward him. “You think I’ll run.”

  Darya let his attention return to her. His thick lips twisted in disgust. “I know a lot about running. It is in your eyes. I feel your passion spilling toward me every night, but something holds you back or you would have already given yourself fully.”

  “You must know how I care for you. I am very grateful for your protection and help, Darya.” She could sense an anger building inside him.

  “It is not your gratitude I want.” He tapped the sides of his horse to move away from her.

  The group funneled through a boulder-lined path away from the protection of their cave camp. Sun ribbons split through puffy clouds floating across the sky. Hawks screeching above replaced the tranquil sounds of rushing waters as the Kyrgyz led the group out onto a path through brush and skinny trees starved for nourishment. The horses’ slow progress moved over the uneven trail as it curved upward to a ridge.

  Darya’s horse shied abruptly, causing Arzo to cry out as she slipped sideways off the horse. He caught her with one hand as she dangled over a ledge. With one swift movement, he jerked her up in front of him. Tears flowed down her hollow cheeks as the others stopped. He placed a hand over Arzo’s mouth, using a thumb to wipe away the wet streaks. She stopped her crying and, sitting sideways in the saddle, Arzo buried her face into Darya’s chest for safety. He held the back of her head with reassurance. His lips touched her head scarf.

  He nudged his horse forward with more insistence this time. The entire group moved away from the ledge with a degree of caution. As they neared the top, a shot rang out, bouncing off a rock near Tessa. A startled scream escaped as she struggled to settle the spooked horse. But he continued the dance of impatience, threatening to back over the ledge with Tessa and the two girls. Darya jumped from his horse, bringing Arzo down with him. He reached Tessa’s mount in short order, grabbing the bridle with a jerk followed by comforting words as he led the mare under a ledge. The others dismounted then hustled the children and Bonnie to the same area.

  “We are almost to the top,” Darya spoke to his friends. He pointed at a narrow trail that forked from the one they traveled. “Take the women and children up there. They’ll be protected.”

  He spoke in rapid Pashto now. Tessa struggled to understand his rapid speech as he instructed Rashid to get them to a nearby village if they didn’t make it out of
the coming fight. “It is not far, Rashid. They are friendly to us.” Darya shot an expression of regret to Tessa. He fished a small pistol from his saddlebag then passed it to her. “Can you use this?”

  Tessa stared down at it as if she’d never seen one before, but she recognized it as the one the soldier had given her days earlier to defend herself. “Yes,” she whispered as a sob threatened to choke her. “Don’t die, Darya.” Tessa’s voice quivered. “Please.”

  Darya gave a signal to Rashid to get moving.

  As they disappeared around the bend to safety, Tessa heard a voice that would haunt her the rest of her life.

  “I see you have brought my hostages back,” came a loud declaration from above. “I am Massoud.” Darya did not respond but inched his way upward toward the voice. “You killed my men and now I must kill you. I see now you are not a ghost and bleed like the rest of us or you would not be hiding from my rifles. Release the women to me and you can keep the girls. They are worthless to me.”

  A volley of gunfire rained down around Darya, his friend Toiluk, and Akbar. They scrambled to take cover behind some boulders.

  “We will come after you then the women and children.”

  Silence.

  The Kyrgyz resumed their climb, agile as a mountain goat. They reached the top then took cover behind a rock outcropping. They readied their rifles before aiming at the men ahead. The Taliban scrutinized the area where Darya escaped. With an upward jerk of Darya’s chin to the others, the Kyrgyz unloaded their weapons at the Taliban.

  Chapter 21

  M assoud fell to his knees when the gunshot took out the man next to him. Once again, he’d underestimated the Kyrgyz ghost known as part mountain goat, part demonic killer. His men rallied by turning their weapons toward the tribesmen, firing at will so as to pen them down. The smell of gunpowder filled the air as the bullets ricocheted off stone barricades. The Taliban ducked and covered when the sounds of gunfire created echoes, an impression of many fighters surrounding them.