The Enigma Series Boxed Set

by Tierney James

  This brought a burst of laughter that echoed off the sixteen-foot ceilings. “I guess that’s why you disobeyed protocol and went after her in Afghanistan. Sounds more than a pain in the neck to me.”

  How did he know about the insane rescue attempt where he nearly got himself killed along with Zoric and Tessa? “And you sound like an incurable romantic. I would have done the same for any of my team.”

  Another belly laugh ensued then he slapped his hands together. “The mighty Captain Chase Hunter has a weakness, and her name is Tessa Scott. Lord, have mercy! You are human after all.” He scooted his chair closer to the table and folded his hands over the dead woman’s picture. “Okay. But there is something I want from you.”

  ~~~

  Dr. Andre Girard reached for the phone as it rang on top of his clutter-free desk. He closed a yellow folder and stacked it with other pastel folders, each color having a special meaning as to the section of the alphabet it belonged when he lifted the receiver to his ear.

  “Hello. Dr. Girard speaking.” He swiveled his chair to face the fading light of day behind him that created a cloud across the window pane. He needed to get those cleaned. “Hello,” he repeated as he took a moment to remove his glasses and rub his eyes.

  “Father?”

  “Louis! My boy, it is good to hear your voice.” The doctor pushed his chair back around and pulled a picture of his son from the top drawer. “Where are you?”

  “In the States. Everything okay?”

  “Yes. Yes.”

  “I miss you, Father. Are you well?”

  “Yes, of course. And you? You sound tired.”

  The son chuckled. “You worry too much. How goes the practice in Florida? The weather suit you there?”

  “I love it. The weather reminds me of the Okavango Delta. I try to go fishing on the weekends.”

  “Maybe I will join you soon. I miss our time together.”

  The doctor noted the warmth in his son’s voice.

  “When do you go back to Botswana to help at the medical clinic?” Louis asked.

  “Not for a few months. Will you join me this time?” A father could hope.

  “I will try, Father. The time draws near.” The son paused, and the father waited. This wasn’t the first time he’d received one of his cryptic calls. “Father, some people are searching for me. I want you to be safe. Do whatever you need to do to remain protected. Tell the truth, if necessary. I will be fine. I am in no danger for the moment. I have made some new and interesting friends.”

  Dr. Girard lowered his voice. “We have a plan. Nothing to worry about.”

  “And the prize?”

  “Safe.” He gave his son some directions as to where to find it.

  “I love you, Father. Thank you for everything.”

  The doctor chuckled. “It has been my honor. You are my heart and soul. Without you, my life would have meant little.”

  “Be careful. I will try and see you soon if possible.”

  “I know. But there is still much to be done. Go with God, my son.”

  The caller clicked off.

  ~~~

  Fingers drummed on a plastic sandwich container left on a laminate countertop. Besides a microwave, a mini fridge, coffeemaker, and a caddy of cutlery filled the already-crowded surface. The acrid smell of burnt coffee and greasy leftover pizza permeated the room. A ding brought a quick retrieval of the food from the microwave, followed by the hiss of a soda can being opened.

  Robert had waited to eat lunch alone in the break room. Sometimes he worked through lunch so he could meet a deadline or go home early to have dinner with his family. A few times, he took a client to a nearby eatery or went with some of the attorneys from the firm to be one of the guys. He was on track to make partner soon. Why he’d been pushed toward a specialty of contested lands and acquisitions in disputed territories in foreign countries remained a mystery, except no one else seemed willing to take on the job. There wasn’t much need for this kind of litigation in California. He’d probably dealt with three cases in the last five years, but he believed in time the specialty might become a lucrative endeavor for the firm. With Tessa’s connections to Washington D.C., he hoped other doors might open for him. So he persevered and the law firm crowned him the expert. Mostly, he worked on cases involving commercial law, which was probably why the firm sent him Reeva. Now she was dead.

  He couldn’t get the image of her bloody body sprawled on the bathroom floor out of his head. Not his room, but whose? And who were those people who burst in on him and Reeva? He could have been left behind and suffered the same fate. Why on earth did they take him for interrogation then release him later?

  Was it because the FBI knew of his wife’s connection to the president? Unlikely, he reasoned, since the agent appeared to be local. His wife remained adamant about keeping her friendship with President Austin secret. Yet those thugs who returned him to his car knew her. Then they showed up at his house to get Handsome or whoever he was. He could have sworn the quieter of the two stared at his wife. When he’d glanced back, he thought Tess had transformed her body into that haughty stance she took when her stubbornness kicked in: weight shifted to one hip, head slightly lowered to level a dangerous glare, and an arched eyebrow that could stop stampeding boys in their tracks. He’d asked her later who she thought they might be.

  She shrugged. “Beats me. He said some friends would pick him up. He called someone on the way home. Actually, I dialed for him. You know. No text or calls while driving. I insisted on being safe.”

  “I didn’t like their looks.”

  Then she kissed him on the mouth, long and passionately, and whispered how happy she was he came home early then promised a few things she planned to do to him after the kids went to bed. The kids apparently liked the big guy, and Tessa didn’t appear to be concerned by his friends or him. So, as usual, he got distracted.

  “Why so many questions, Robert?” Her eyes went wide. How innocent of the world his wife could be. “You don’t think I would ever put our children in jeopardy, do you? I mean—”

  “No. No. Lucky he came along when he did. You said the Highway Patrol showed up, right?”

  “Yes. Handsome protected us. I’m so grateful. God is good.” She sighed and walked away. “Why don’t you hurry the children along to bed? They’ve been waiting for you to read them a story.”

  She continued to distract him the rest of the evening. Life was good again with his wife. Why muddy the waters with a confession of his lamebrain decision to take a woman to his hotel room? However innocent, the appearance of impropriety would not be lost on Tessa. How many times had she accused him of being a flirt or a little too friendly with the opposite sex?

  Robert chewed slowly on his pepperoni pizza before taking a swig of soda. An involuntary hiccup escaped as he put a fist to his chest and burped. Heartburn would follow as he stewed about his future. He’d waited all morning for a tap on the shoulder or a phone call from the FBI or some clandestine entity who would inform him of what he should do, say or not say, so his life could proceed to something without trepidation and misgivings.

  Arriving early, before he’d even hung up his coat, one of the partners strolled into his office to congratulate him on securing the diamond accounts from several large African conglomerates for the firm. He pumped his hand vigorously and flashed his glowing, whitened teeth.

  “Good job, Robert. I knew you and Reeva would hit it off. Got an email this morning stating how impressed she was with you and her company would be reaching out ASAP.” He straightened to his height of five foot five and placed his hands on his hips so his suit coat pushed back enough to reveal a white shirt that blended seamlessly with the smile. The deep-blue tie, crisscrossed in a pale-gold design, impressed Robert as expensive, unlike his own that Tessa had bought him from a local men’s shop in Grass Valley.

  “Email? Already?” Robert stuck his finger between his collar and neck.

  “Yeah. We’re very pl
eased.” He landed a fist on his arm. “You didn’t hear it from me, but we’re going to offer you a partnership at our next quarterly meeting.”

  Robert stuttered then laughed. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Remember, mum’s the word.” Another fist to the shoulder occurred before he headed out the door.

  Now, here he sat, alone with his jumbled thoughts about the future. If he told the firm about what really happened with Reeva, he’d not only not make partner but probably lose his license to practice law. Carrying the paper plate to the trash, he took the last sip from his can then dumped them in the stainless-steel reciprocal, when his phone vibrated in his pocket.

  “Hello.”

  “Mr. Scott, this is Agent Martin.” Robert wondered if his nervous gulp could be heard on the phone. “I wanted to touch base with you and set your mind at ease. We have a suspect in custody who has confessed to the murder of Reeva Kaplan.”

  “What a relief,” Robert said as he peeked out the break room door then ducked back inside. “My firm had an email this morning from her saying she would do business with us.”

  There was a slight pause. “Yes. I see here she emailed someone about business being completed and they could count on moving forward. Must have been—”

  “Yes. I can only imagine when it was, Agent Martin. What about those thugs who dragged me out to safety? Who were they?”

  “Independent contractors who specialize in problem solving is all I can tell you. They aren’t connected to the FBI or any other government agency I know of. Lucky they came along when they did.”

  “But—”

  “And, Mr. Scott, if I were you I’d consider this a one-time get-out-of-jail-free card. Be careful next time who you take to your hotel room.”

  “I—”

  “Have a nice life, Mr. Scott.”

  The line went dead. Robert couldn’t resist pulling the phone out in front of his face, as if by doing so he’d be able to unravel all the cloak-and-dagger mumbo jumbo. No way would he be telling Tessa any of this. Agent Martin was right about one thing; he’d dodged a bullet, literally.

  Chapter 15

  D irector Benjamin Clark of Enigma considered his people some of the best in the country when it came to problem solving a national security issue. Since President Buck Austin took office, they had been given access to impossible scenarios needing a quick and speedy solution. Special Forces were needed for big ops, and other agencies covered things allowed under the law. Enigma wasn’t bound by the law because, technically, they didn’t exist. Their funding came from private individuals who desired solutions to insure economic stability in the world. Director Clark didn’t have to tiptoe around Congress and plead for support or money.

  He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the window overlooking the campus of Sacramento’s University of Science and Technology. His short-cropped hair glowed more white than gray these days. Most men with such responsibility developed health issues or their appearance changed markedly, as exhibited by the US presidents when they left office. Benjamin Clark wasn’t one of those. If anything, he thrived on the ability to solve conflict and make the world a better place as long as the United States benefited from it. Running his hands down the front of his navy-blue suit then taking a deep breath, he faced Captain Chase Hunter’s team.

  “You’re going to tell Tessa about Robert.” Ben didn’t like keeping her in the dark even though she might come unhinged when she found out her husband wasn’t the saint she told them about.

  “Tell me what?” Tessa entered the conference room, balancing a stack of folders and a vanilla latte she’d bought on her way in. She eyed the group sitting at the table and reached up to rub her temples. “No one is making eye contact with me except Sam, so this can’t be good.”

  Ben rolled out his chair and sat down, extending his hand toward an empty chair next to him. “Sit. Chase can fill you in later.” He silenced Sam’s snide chuckle with one of his angry glares. The woman might be enjoying this turn of events too much. “Where is Mr. Jones, Chase?”

  “My guys have him next door.”

  “Excellent. Let’s begin. Tessa, what do you have for us? I trust the children had no lasting effects after your close call the other night.”

  “They’ve already moved on. Sean Patrick thinks he wants to go into law enforcement, and Daniel has gone back to snooping on the school principal.” Ben’s eyebrows went up. “But I totally disconnected him. Promise,” she insisted as she raised her hand in some kind of show of surrender. “Heather is a little clingy, but she is a mommy’s girl anyway.”

  “Glad to hear it. What do you have for us?” Ben took the folder she handed him then passed the stack along to the others. He felt a little amused at the pastel coloring of the folders since everything else connected to Enigma bordered on being invisible, including file folders.

  “This is some information about the current situation with the mining industry in southern Africa. I focused on Botswana primarily because over the last thirty-five years there has been a wave of complaints about human rights violations and a move away from democracy.”

  “What is this picture?” Sam pulled out an 8x10 photograph.

  “This is the Black Kalahari diamond found in a diamond mine about one hundred kilometers from Gaborone, the capital of Botswana. It is roughly eight hundred karats that was divided and ended up as part of Britain’s crown jewels.”

  “Black diamonds? I thought those were unremarkable compared to the glittering white ones.” Sam laid it down and raised her all-knowing eyebrows at Tessa.

  “You’re confusing black diamonds with the chocolate ones you buy at a mall or your favorite jewelry store. Those really aren’t remarkable. The commercial market for black diamonds is a little tricky unless you know what you’re looking for.”

  “Explain,” Ben chimed in.

  “Diamond merchants have a way of artificially changing white diamonds into chocolate ones, which affects their sparkle and value. Their lack of clarity also might make them a little more affordable. More sparkly, more money. However, they are still beautiful and in demand. I, for one, love chocolate diamonds.”

  “Of course, you would,” Sam mumbled.

  Tessa took a deep breath as she shifted her gaze to the director. “It is important to know black diamonds are mined in Botswana and a few other places in world. They are extremely valuable and sought after. Botswana is the world’s largest producer of diamonds, and the trade should have transformed it into a middle-income nation where most people benefit from this GNP.”

  Dr. Samantha Cordova had a Ph.D. in economics and could finally offer her insight. “I suspect someone is skimming off the profits and sending them to offshore accounts instead of investing in the country.”

  “The country never quite recovered when President Mombasa died suddenly some forty years ago.” Tessa pulled out a copy of a news article from her folder then pointed to her teammates. “Some suspected he’d been poisoned, but there was never an autopsy or investigation. The Coalition for a Free Africa Party, or CFAP, consisted of wealthy white businessmen who hired a young military man who’d served as a tank commander in the Mozambique army.”

  Chase tapped on his folder. “I’ve heard of him. Mozambique has had one of the largest armies in Africa. I think they booted him out for a tendency to shoot first and ask questions later. He enjoyed his job a little too much, if you get my drift.”

  Zoric smiled broadly. “You act like this is a bad thing.” His sinister laugh got him a disgruntled frown from the director.

  “When President Mombasa died, there wasn’t enough support for his vice president to take over, and he also took ill and died several weeks later anyway. The CFAP let their hired guns loose on areas of opposition, suggesting they were behind the deaths. They wanted to make sure they placed someone in power who could help them gain control of their congressional bodies.”

  “Isn’t the United Nations supposed to step in and solve the
se kinds of issues?” Carter Johnson didn’t usually pay much attention to these meetings unless he thought the end result would be more action like he’d seen over the weekend. He was easily bored with the everyday things in life.

  “The UN had their hands full with Sierra Leone, North Korea, and Kashmir at the time,” Ben interjected. “So, I’m assuming this commander made his sponsors happy?”

  “Yes. His new name is President Baboloki, meaning ‘savior.’ The name insinuates powerful, yet lighthearted. He has also named his son this and often speaks of the day he will follow in his footsteps, which brings us to the present.”

  “And the CFAP?” Chase’s forehead creased.

  “They are still in power. No other party exists. They underestimated Baboloki’s ability to control the masses and have had to make a great number of concessions to stay in control of the government. For all practical purposes, it is a dictatorship.”

  “Let’s take a break so everyone can go through the materials. Chase, you catch Tessa up to speed.” Ben stood and glared down at his agent like he was the next meal of a hungry bald eagle. “All of it,” he growled. Chase’s nostrils flared, and he also rose, shifting his eyes on Tessa who jumped up from her chair with her usual nervous anticipation. “When you’re done, bring in Handsome.”

  “Yes, sir.” He tilted his head toward the door as Tessa joined him. “Let’s go. We need to talk.”

  ~~~

  “I’m going to kill him!” Tessa fumed as she paced across the floor in her small office.

  Chase sat on the edge of her cluttered desk with his arms folded across his chest. He listened to her growl insults about Robert through gritted teeth as she threw her hands in the air. She voiced her outrage and choked on tears pooling in her sky-blue eyes.

  “A slow, painful death is what he deserves.”

  “Agreed. I’d be happy to do it for you. Just say the word,” he said nonchalantly as he inhaled. “Will you be wanting to watch while I do it?” Tessa halted her pacing to land a punch to his gut that only managed to make him burst into laughter. “Settle down.”