Chapter 42
Chapter Forty-Two
One Month Later
“Good morning,” Saskia said brightly to Shola, opening the door wider so she could come inside. It had become Saskia and Shola’s morning routine to share a coffee together before Shola returned to her work as head of Saskia’s security.
They sat on the couch, each with a cup in their hands.
“How’s your team working out?” Saskia asked, genuinely curious.
She’d never been curious about her security in the past, except to find the best ways to give them the slip. But security under Shola was different. She was a woman and rapidly becoming a good friend.
Shola shrugged, sipping her huge cup of coffee. Saskia was jealous. She was drinking a cup of decaf and pretending it had all the delicious caffeine Shola’s cup held. “They’re not bad,” she said in a tone that suggested they were.
“Tell me,” Saskia urged.
Shola sighed. “The two teams, Radik’s people and Jozef’s, aren’t getting along, and neither side wants a woman telling them to get their shit together.”
“That sounds awful,” Saskia said sympathetically. “Have you considered firing them and hiring an all-woman team? Leeza’s not doing anything right now and Ayaan might be available when she gets back from…” She drifted off, her mind going to Marifiya.
“Yes, I’ve considered it,” Shola chuckled, “but for diplomacy reasons, I must work with what I’m given. The two teams must learn to work together.”
“How’re you going to accomplish that?” Saskia sipped her coffee.
“I’m going to shoot the first person who resists my efforts to unify them. It should send a message to the rest about my expectations.”
Saskia spat her coffee out and stared at Shola, horrified until she saw the smirk curling her lips. “Oh my god, I thought you really would do it.”
Shola’s face lit up as she laughed. “I’m not quite that extreme, but don’t think I’m not tempted.” Her expression grew serious. “If they don’t start respecting me and each other and they end up compromising your security, I really will have to shoot someone.”
Shola studied Saskia for a moment before changing the subject. “How are you doing? Last I checked, you were climbing the walls out of boredom.”
Saskia agreed. “Still am. I’ve always had something to do, whether it was schoolwork or my job. It feels weird wandering my apartment searching for purpose.”
“What about your job with Deputy Saagan? Doesn’t that keep you busy?”
She was still the liaison for the presidential hopeful in the Central African Republic.
Saagan’s campaign was amping up for the following election year.
There wasn’t much for her to do though. Her job consisted of going over the Deputy’s schedule with his secretary and discussing security options with Kenneth, the head of the security team.
It was a perfunctory once-a-week Zoom call, but the Deputy seemed to appreciate Saskia’s continued involvement, despite her moving to Europe.
“Not really,” she sighed. “Is it bad that I keep hoping someone takes a potshot at Saagan so I’ll have something to do?”
Shola laughed. “Yeah, it’s bad. What about the Prime Minister’s office here in Prague? Has he considered your request?”
Saskia had contacted her boss to find out if he would allow her to return for the few months until she gave birth.
“Yes, they got back to me,” Saskia grumbled. “The answer was a kind but firm no, they don’t want me back until I’ve finished my maternity leave. Branislav says he wants me to stay home and rest.”
“He’s smarter than he looks,” Shola said and they both laughed. “Does he know you’re still working on that translation? It’s been so long, is it even relevant anymore?”
“Probably not,” Saskia replied. Out of boredom, Saskia had spent hours poring over the last translation Aurelia gave her before she was murdered.
“And no, I didn’t tell him. I don’t want him to take it away from me.
I’m not even sure I should still have it, since it does contain sensitive government business and I’m not technically an employee until I come back from my leave. ”
Shola nodded her understanding. “If it makes you happy, then keep it. It won’t harm anything to work on it if you’re taking breaks and doing everything your doctor told you to.”
“Gee thanks, mom,” Saskia said sarcastically. “I’m glad I have your permission.”
“Ah yes, there’s the old bratty Saskia coming through.”
Saskia gasped and hit Shola with a pillow, causing Shola to have to protect her coffee. “I can’t believe you said that!”
“All’s fair in war,” Shola said with a chuckle.
“You’re my head of security,” Saskia pointed out. “We’re not at war.”
“Everything is conflict and strategy in my world,” Shola said, standing and stretching. “Time for me to get to work.”
“Stay safe,” Saskia said. She said it every morning after their coffee. She would be devastated if anything happened to Shola.
After Shola left, the brightness of her apartment seemed to dim. It wasn’t that Saskia couldn’t handle being alone, but at the moment, most of her thoughts were on Radik and those thoughts were going in circles. What was he doing? Did he miss her? Did he want her back?
To keep her mind off Radik, she sat down at her desk to work on the translation, pulling it up on her laptop.
She’d finished her translation and was working on editing it when she came across a particularly rough passage. “That makes no sense.”
She went back to the original transcript, which was in Czech. It was during a particularly lengthy, boring section where the Prime Minister and President were discussing their golf games.
Prime Minister: It was a good drive, but I sliced it so it ended up on the wrong fairway. I had to go around a tree to get to the green. I bogied the hole.
President: Your aim has been off for a while. If you aren’t careful, you’ll be kicked off the course.
Saskia frowned. It seemed like an odd thing to say. Why would Branislav be kicked off the golf course for bad aim? Saskia didn’t know much about golf, but she didn’t think a golf club would eject someone for hitting their ball onto the wrong fairway.
She went back to the transcript, reading a few more lines, trying to make sense of it so she could get her translation correct.
Prime Minister: I’ve had enough pars on this course to keep my reputation intact. I will take a lesson, straighten out my drive. You don’t have to worry about my golf game.
President: Don’t forget who sponsored your application to get into the club. My membership is almost due and if the club chooses not to renew it, you’ll lose your position too. We’re in this together.
Prime Minister: I’ve always been committed to this club. You don’t need to threaten my membership. I’ll continue to talk to the other members; make sure our memberships are secure.
President: I want to see action, Branislav. Your words are cheap. Get me the votes or get off the course.
Votes. What did voting have to do with golf? Was it an ultra-exclusive club where members voted on the participation of other members? For the first time in her life, she wished she knew more about golf.
Why was it bothering her so much? Her job was to translate, not understand. Still, she was bored and this translation would probably never see the light of day anyway, so why not do a little digging? What could it hurt?
Maybe the answer to this weird section was in the nuance she couldn’t get off a transcript. She needed to hear the actual conversation, listen to the tone of their voices.
Saskia hadn’t been given a copy of the recorded conversation, but she knew where to find it. When she tried to login to her government employee portal, she discovered she was locked out.
She chewed her lip, thinking. She really wanted to get her hands on that recording. An idea came to her, but she doubted it would work.
Aurelia had given Saskia her login information so Saskia could have access to exactly this sort of thing.
Technically, they weren’t supposed to share passwords, but Auralia had been a busy woman, and Sakia was good at her job.
Auralia had given her access because eventually Saskia would have had her own access.
She punched in Aurelia’s username and password. “It worked.” She was surprised, but supposed their IT department had simply forgotten to deactivate Aurelia’s access after her death.
Saskia had a brief moment of grief over Aurelia's murder as she dug though the dead woman's portal. Even though this was Auralia's work account, there were traces of her personality in how she named and organized the files, in the slide show of family pictures on her background screen.
“There it is,” Saskia murmured, clicking on the phone call that had taken place eight months earlier.
Picking up her headphones, Saskia fast-forwarded the conversation to the strange section in the middle of their golfing conversation.
“I’ve always been committed to this club. You don’t need to threaten my membership.” Branislav’s tone was pleading, urging. “I’ll continue to talk to the other members; make sure our positions are secured.”
“I want to see action, Branislav. Your words are cheap. Get me the votes or get off the course.” President Urban’s tone was hard, angry, dismissive.
There was such a lack of professionalism in the exchange, it seemed odd to Saskia that it wasn’t cut out of the transcript before it came to her. They would be humiliated if the conversation was made public. Two men in the highest offices of their country bickering over golf.
The image of Aurelia’s body rose to Saskia’s mind and she shuddered. “They can’t be related.” Could they? Was she making a leap? The conversation was unusual, but the two men had discussed golf in past translations.
“When?” she asked herself, suddenly curious how those conversations had gone. If she was remembering correctly, there had been another conversation in March the year before.
She clicked on the conversation. She couldn’t remember exactly where the golf talk had happened, so she was forced to sit through forty-five minutes of internal party discussion wondering if she was nuts for going to so much effort for no reason when she found the spot.
“How was your golf game Saturday?” President Urban asked Branislav. “Did you achieve your goal?”
“It went very well,” Branislav said in a braggy tone Saskia had heard many times before. “Got a hole-in-one on the eighth. I had the other players exactly where I wanted them.”
Weren’t holes-in-one incredibly difficult to get? And wait… was he golfing in March? It was an outdoor sport, and March was cold and often snowy. A quick Google search showed that she was right, golf courses were not open at that time of year in Czechia.
The President spoke next. “Are we on our way to getting the votes we need for another five years at the club?”
“Yes, I believe if I can keep hitting the holes with as few strokes as possible, we’ll have the votes.” A long pause followed, then he added, “If we don’t get the votes, then we can pay for membership.”
“That is a last resort,” Urban snapped.
“Oh my god,” Saskia whispered, stopping the recording. Votes? Five years? The president’s term in office was five years and it was up in just a few months. But why would they use golf to speak to each other in code? What were they doing that required such secrecy?
Again, she was annoyed that she didn’t know enough about golf to know for sure if the conversation was off. There was only one person in her orbit who apparently knew a lot about golf.
There was no way Shola would take her to see him and as much as she wanted to confront him in person, she wouldn’t risk her baby. She’d have to do it over the phone.
She scrolled her contacts, finding his name. The phone rang and he answered right away.
“Saskia, what a pleasure to hear from you,” Prime Minister Branislav said in his fake jovial voice. “Now, I hope this isn’t about your job. I instructed HR to deny your request to come back. You need rest.”
“I know,” she said, in as sweet a tone as she could manage. “I’ve missed my work though and thought I’d check in to see how you’re doing, see if you need anything.”
It was a bit of a stretch as they barely spoke when she’d worked at the office. Her position was too far beneath his, but the few times they met, he was friendly towards her.
“That’s very kind of you, Saskia,” he said, his tone becoming distracted. “But you know you’ll have to wait until after the baby is born and your maternity leave is finished before you can start working again.” She heard papers shuffling in the background. “Did you receive the flower arrangement?”
“Yes, thank you. It was very kind of you.” She sighed theatrically before continuing. “Look, I know I can’t come into the office, but can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” he said, then she assumed he muffled the phone with his hand because she could hear mumbling, then he was back. “You can ask me anything.”
“When you’re playing golf, how difficult is it to get a hole-in-one?”
“What?” he asked, confused. “It’s nearly impossible.”
“But it happens sometimes?” she persisted.
“Yes, of course,” he said. “Why do you ask?”
She ignored his question, asking, “Have you ever gotten one?”
There was a long pause. “Yes, I have.”
“Congratulations on making a such a difficult shot,” she said, then asked, “And how does one go about joining a golf club? Do the other members vote you in or something? Or do you just buy your way in?”
Dead silence dominated the airspace between them following her questions and she figured she now had his full attention.
Finally, he said, “What do you really want, Saskia?” His tone was no longer kind. It was dangerous, deadly.
A shiver rippled down her spine and she knew she was right.
“I have one more question.” She held the phone so tight her hand shook. “Did you have Aurelia killed? Did you try to kill me too?”