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Chapter One

'Agent Riley I want you in my office,' Senior Superintendent Samantha St. Claire commanded, as she strode past his desk into her office.

'Your wish is my command,' Agent Riley grinned, but it was very quickly wiped off his face when he saw the blazing fury in his superior's steely eyes. She did not often get angry, but when she did there was always a valid reason. Riley was desperately hoping he was not the cause of her anger, but her icy glare gave him no hope.

'I was summoned to court this morning Riley,' she gritted her teeth at him.

'Yes ma'am,' he mumbled. He knew of the summons, when she had not met him at their rendezvous point or answered her mobile, he was duly informed of that when he had called the office.

'I gave you one simple instruction yesterday afternoon,' she stabbed her finger into his chest, 'to prepare our motivation to extradite Victor Hernandez. The file that landed on the State Prosecutor's desk, did not have any support documents to substantiate our case,' she barked. 'It was a good thing I had sufficient material on my desk, when I was summoned.'

Riley squirmed embarrassingly.

'The State Prosecutor asked me if I'm running a Mickey Mouse operation,' she stabbed his chest again.'

She wasn't going to tell Riley the only reason her case was not thrown out of court was because the State Prosecutor pulled some strings to allow her time to get to court, because his interest in her was a little more than professional.

'I'm sorry, I did do the paperwork,' Riley looked down sheepishly, 'I think I put the documents into the filing cabinet instead of in the courier bag for the State Prosecutor's Office,' he mumbled.

'You embarrass me that way again Riley and I will have you posted to one of the stations doing the street beat on foot!' she warned.

'Yes ma'am,' he acknowledged hoping for mercy.

It was an honest mistake that anybody could have made, she would cut him some slack, for he never shirked his duties, and was always straight with her.

'Leave my door opened on your way out,' she dismissed him.

She was lifting up the handset of her phone back at her desk when she observed Riley had not moved an inch from when she had dismissed him.

'Riley?' Samantha questioned softly, replacing the handset.

'Did we win our bid to extradite Hernandez?' he asked uncomfortably.

'What do you think?' she grinned.

'Yes!' Riley tap danced on his toes, then quickly remembered where he was.

'I leave for Bogotá in forty eight hours,' Senior Superintendant St Claire informed her subordinate. 'I'm to be escorted by six nannies from Special Missions,' she added rather irritatedly.

'I know you prefer to take care of yourself ,' Riley consoled, 'but Hernandez is not only a drug lord but an inhumane killer. I'm relieved that you're being escorted,' he affirmed.

Riley knew his boss was a perfectionist, who preferred to work alone, she was not only highly skilled, she was also an expert markswoman, trained in martial arts and trained to kill as well. Whichever part of your body she aimed for, she only needed one shot at it. Only those who read her file knew the depth of her expertise, and not many had access to that.

She handled the very difficult cases on her own. She worked alone. She did not need a partner. Partners made mistakes. She had painful first hand, very personal experience of that. The only reason she had had a rendezvous with Riley this morning was because she wanted to force the hand of the assassin that Riley had been tailing for the past three months.

'I will meet you at twenty three hundred hours tonight Riley,' she interrupted his thoughts. 'Your man still favors the Blue Orchid club?' she enquired.

How did she know that? Riley himself only discovered that yesterday, and had not yet had the opportunity to disclose that to her.

'Yes,' he nodded.

'A deal is going down there tonight,' she murmured, a faraway look in her eyes, 'don't be late or you'll miss all the fun,' she brought her eyes back to him.

'Arrange for unmarked back up. You'll have your man tonight,' she promised.

Riley gazed at his boss with admiration. If she said the sky was going to turn black. It turned black. If she told you, "you will have your man." Then you will have your man, she was yet to break a promise in the four years she was Head of the Narcotics Division.

She picked up the phone again to set the wheels in motion for her trip to Bogotá.

At precisely twenty hundred hours, Samantha left her office and headed home to her apartment in Sandton's plush Melrose Arch.  She loved everything about Sandton, its glamorous contemporary skyscrapers, five star hotels. She smiled inwardly that Sandton was often quoted as the richest square mile in the whole of the continent of Africa. Melrose Arch boasted a myriad, exotic, cosmopolitan cafe cultures; high street shopping; trendy luxury apartments in green tree lined avenues.

She would indulge in a luxurious bath before her 'date' with Gavin Rice. Tonight could become a long night, if he played hard ball but she will have Errol Tobias behind bars before sunrise tomorrow morning. She had enough evidence to keep him locked up for a while, but with a good attorney, he could be out in no time. If she nailed him with tonight's bust, she could have him in for a very long time. The scene had already been set. Two months ago she called in a favour from a night club bouncer, Gavin Rice who agreed to act as her buyer. Under her tutorship Rice had been building a relationship with Tobias buying not so small quantities of cocaine from him. Tonight Rice was to receive a truckload supposedly destined for Mozambique. Five million Rands in marked bills had already been handed to Tobias as a down payment. The poison chalice had been accepted. All Tobias had to do was park the cocaine loaded truck in front of the NewsCafé, and receive the balance of his money inside the Blue Orchid.

Samantha in a sexy cocktail number was to play Rice's love interest. She never looked like herself on a stake out. She always had on more make up than the professional ladies of the night, and her natural long blond locks were always hidden under stylish hair pieces that camouflaged her identity.

She had butterflies in her stomach even though she had a pistol tucked in her suspenders, and another in a secret compartment underneath her clutch bag. It was ten minutes after twenty three hundred hours. Tobias was late. He was never late, a creature of habit, a downfall of his that made her work so simple. So why was he late tonight? A perfunctory glance at her wristwatch told her, the clock had only moved thirty seconds since she last looked at it.

Samantha casually sipped from her glass of white wine. Gavin Rice was giving a fine performance as her love interest. If his hand went any higher, he was going to touch her pistol.

'If your hand moves another inch Rice, you're going to become an accompaniment to somebody's dinner,' she smiled seductively, but her deadly cold eyes had his hand frozen where it was.

'I thought you wanted me to look real convincing as your lover,' he stammered.

"The eagle has landed at nine o' clock," Riley's calm voice spoke into her discreet earpiece from his vantage point.

Nine o'clock. The entrance to the restaurant kitchen!

Very casually Samantha scanned the room. She spotted eight agents all in civilian gear. None of them looked or dressed like your standard military operative. It took her more than six months to transform them from looking like dead giveaway cops to casual civilians. To the office they wore suits. But on stake outs, they wore dirty jeans, creased shirts, and they had to look and smell like bar flies. Only when their success rate had become visible, had they bowed to her nifty investigative strategy.

Samantha reached out and cupped her palm over Rice's cheek, and drew closer to his ear, 'You're very convincing sweetheart, just keep smiling,' she whispered in his ear.

Rice did not need to be urged a second time, he licked his sloppy lips, and his grubby paws rested heavily around her neck, as the seat next to Samantha became occupied.

"He has a weapon in his left inside pocket, and he has three goons stationed around nine o' clock," Riley's voice was not as calm as previously.

Samantha calmly raised her glass to her lips, not looking at Tobias.

'Hello sexy,' Tobias grinned, his garlic breath, almost had her choking.

'My girlfriend is not part of the deal,' Rice growled, you touch her with those filthy hands and I will break your neck!'

'Easy Rice,' Tobias backed off, his skinny frame was no match for Gavin Rice's sumo wrestler frame. And he had the fists to match, she witnessed it firsthand previously in a club brawl.

'Now I know you don't carry a weapon,' Tobias made eye contact with Gavin, 'but how about your lady?'

And before Samantha could speak, Tobias had ripped open her clutch bag from her hand and turned the contents onto the table, and all that fell out was her mobile, a packet of tissue and a lip balm.

Feigning surprise, Samantha gasped, clutching her palm to her heart.

'Everything's okay,' Gavin murmured, kissing her on her temple.

'One can never be too careful,' Tobias grinned acidly.

"Make the drop," she heard Riley whisper, but Gavin did not have an earpiece to hear Riley.

Samantha's stiletto kicked Gavin's ankle.

The pain hardly registered, but Gavin got the message.

'My truck ready to go?' Gavin enquired conversationally.

'I just need the final documentation and you will have the keys.' Tobias grinned. This time his garlic breath was more pronounced.

Gavin carefully took out the envelope with the ward of cash from his pocket.

Tobias greedily licked his lips. At the corner of her eye, Samantha saw her agents very inconspicuously close in around Tobias' goons.

"We're ready when you are Sierra," Riley's calm voice was back. "Sierra" was her code name, because it started with the same letter as her own name.

Samantha emptied her glass as Tobias reached for the envelope. In the fraction of a millisecond and with lightening speed, she was reaching inside his jacket and Tobias' gun was corked and piercing at his heart. Gavin was gob smacked at the speed at which she moved. Samantha read Tobias the Miranda, as she asked Gavin for the handcuffs she had earlier slipped into his pocket. She already had Tobias' hands cuffed behind his back, when two agents and Riley appeared at their table. Casting a cursory glance at nine o' clock she saw everything was under control. The goons were outnumbered and she knew disarmed by now. Agent Boyd, another of her agents winked, congratulating her, she raised her empty glass in salute. Nobody batted an eyelid around the rowdy nightclub as Samantha stood up.

'Gentlemen, thank you for a pleasant evening,' she smiled, kissed Gavin on the cheek as she planned to make her exit.

'Have a drink with us Sam,' Agent Boyd invited, as his eyes travelled the length of her long slender legs. She permitted the agents to address her by her first name when they were off duty so to speak, but she never drank with the boys, she maintained the hierarchy that way, but it never stopped them trying.

'You need a shower Boyd, I will be in my office at six hundred hours, I want the report on my desk when I get there, she brushed passed his shoulder as he groaned at the paperwork that awaited his attention.

Samantha did not look in the direction of nine o' clock as she exited the Blue Orchid. Her team was a professional outfit, they knew she expected and received nothing less from them. She scanned the area outside as she made her way to her car. A sedan with tinted windows was strategically parked to make a quick getaway. A SUV was stationed diagonally to the sedan, both these vehicles were not there when she had entered the club.

'You've cleaned up outside here Runner?' She addressed Riley by the code name she had given him because he loved running road marathons.

'All clear Sierra, two men from the sedan and two from the SUV are locked up in a holding vehicle under armed guard.

Samantha clicked on the central locking device, slipped into the driver's seat, when she had the car in gear, she spoke to her team. 'Good work tonight boys, have the rest of the evening off,' she smiled, as she heard uncomplimentary mumblings from each agent's earpiece. Technically there were two females agents in her tactical team, but nobody minded when she called them all "boys."

Samantha had a productive morning. The report had been on her desk, when she had arrived there at five fifty five that morning. The report very colourfully and boldly illustrated that it was completed at ten minutes past two hundred hours. She had grinned and praised Boyd silently with an endearment he would never get to hear, because if he did, he'd become more swollen headed. He was quite a looker, tall athletically built like a basketball player, with the blue eyes to go with. At eight thirty she was in the State Prosecutor's office with Boyd's file. She wanted Tobias locked up for good, and she intended getting a commitment from the State Prosecutor before they departed to Bogotá.

'Samantha don't you ever sleep? What was so urgent that you wake me up at six in the morning? State Prosecutor Justin Scott demanded.

'I want this vile specimen locked up and the key thrown away,' she stated, handing Justin Scott her file.

He sipped from his tasteless coffee mug, flipping the file open. Wrinkling his nose disgustingly he pushed the coffee mug aside. His eyebrows shot up, as his head swung to meet Samantha.

'You've nailed Tobias. How the hell did you get that right? He's been evading us for over a year,' Justin Scott demanded.

'I don't kiss and tell,' she smiled sweetly.

'Okay, I'll settle for the kiss, you don't have to tell,' he murmured, coming around to her side.

In a flash her weapon was out and uncorked, pointing at Justin.

'Samantha, I'm just teasing,' his hands were hoisted in the air.

'So am I,' she grinned, replacing her weapon to its holster.

'Gee one of these days, you're going to make me wet my pants,' he yelled.

'You mean you haven't yet?'

'What do you want Samantha?' he barked.

'No plea bargaining with Tobias, I want him tried for all his crimes,' she demanded.

'Let me study the report, I'll call you this afternoon.'

'You make no decisions, before you speak to me,' Samantha demanded again.

'May I remind you that I'm not answerable to you Senior Superintendent,' he yelled.

She exhaled softly.  'Yes sir,' she seethed picking up her handbag. Perhaps she had over stayed her welcome. Best she leave with her dignity still intact.

'What's this?' she enquired of her Director, noting the new file being added to her workload.

Director Jeff Stanford folded his arms across his chest, as he looked across at his favourite officer in his Department.

'What do you think it is St. Claire, an early Christmas present? He asked sarcastically.

'You never give me Christmas presents,' she reminded him, opening the file. Samantha scanned the file, speed reading through the first page till her eye caught the listed crime.

'White collar crime! No, give this to somebody else PLEASE', she begged.

'You're the only one with a B Comm degree in our Department,' he informed her smugly, 'besides you'll establish it's not all white collar,' he finished cryptically.

'So? Get Internal Audit on the case, this is up their alley,' she pleaded.

'They will be involved, and at your disposal, but you will head this one,' he instructed.

Samantha cringed silently. She only studied Accounting because numbers made sense to her and she was good at it. She possessed a logical more than a creative brain. She hated desk bound jobs. She hated pushing papers and audit trails. She loved the adrenalin rush she got from being active on the field. And she was bloody good at her job, there wasn't a man better at the job than she was, and her Director knew that damn him. Now he wanted her pushing papers in some international conglomerate that could not keep their house in order.

'Can I delegate this,' she pleaded softly.

'You will head this investigation Samantha,' he repeated, 'when do you return from Bogotá?'

'In seventy two hours,' she resigned herself to the inevitable.

'Good, while you're on the plane, work on your plan of action. I want to see a proposal when you return,' he turned and departed from her office.

'Yes Sir. Anything you say Sir!' she mumbled under her breath.

Samantha spent the forty eight hours since her return from Bogota swamped in financial data of the Platinum Cooperation, a company that exported large quantities of diamonds from South Africa to primarily London, Japan, Germany and California. The brief from her Director was to investigate if blood diamonds were being sold overseas and if the Platinum Cooperation was siphoning of funds into an off shore account, and lastly if the company was guilty of tax evasion. What surprised her was that the CEO had requested the investigation into his own company. She'd never heard of a CEO requesting an investigation into his own company by the National Prosecutions Service previously. Perhaps he was trying to deflect the scent off himself. Well as far as she was concerned if blood diamonds were being traded and funds rerouted to a slush fund somewhere, Mr. Blake Tresscott was suspect number one in her books.

Samantha's patience was beginning to wear thin from trying to get any information on Mr. Blake Tresscott, it was beginning to feel like pulling teeth. She had Googled and tried every other search engine she could think off and none provided much information on the elusive Mr. Tresscott. Only the gossip pages and gutter press threw out the type of information than she was not interested in. Apparently he seemed to have a fetish for long legged blondes!

I bet it's the blondes you get out of the bottle and with an IQ lower than their shoe size!

Samantha had tried to set up a meeting with the hard to pin down Mr. Tresscott and got the run around. She was diverted to his Financial Director and when she threatened to have him arrested for questioning, only then was she given a slot at nineteen hundred hours three days later. Why does he request NPS to investigate his company and then he is conveniently not available? She so smelt a stinky fish. She would definitely be spending a great deal of her investigative time with the

Platinum's Financial Director, but she first needed to have a one on one with Tresscott. He won't remain an enigma for too long, by the time she was finished with him, she would know what his favourite breakfast was, where he bought his underwear, how many cavities he had, and she would know what the status of his personal bank account was, to list but a few.

'Mr. Tresscott you're a hard man to pin down,' Samantha accused, her piercing grey eyes unsmiling and distant. This was work and she did not play social nice, nice.

'Senior Superintendant St. Claire I believe,' he extended his hand, unaffected by her cold greeting, his tone polite, though his eyes remained hooded.

Surely those long dark eye lashes looked better on a lady. He stood staring at Samantha, in no great hurry as he casually let his eyes travel over her long mane of blonde hair, tied in a pony tail, then lowered to study her hour glass figure adorned in a pencil skirt and jacket, and went all the way down her slender legs and black stilettos.  Samantha was seething at his blatant superciliousness, but she would not concede victory to him by looking away, their eyes locked and dueled and she held her ground, until he requested her to be seated.

'I apologize for not being accessible to you sooner Ms. St. Claire, but I run an international company, and my overseas clients don't keep office hours like you do,' he threw at her.

You arrogant swine, what do you know about the hours I keep?

'Your staff and your website are not very forthcoming when it comes to revealing information about you,' she accused.

'I could say the same about you Ms. St. Claire.'

'You are investigating me?' she asked in astonishment.

'Let's just say I like to be in the loop about those I invite to scrutinize my personal and business details,' he tossed, a lazy grin spread across his face.

Samantha stared into his eyes longer than she should have, then her eyes were magnetically drawn to his lips. She never thought she could describe a man as beautiful, but his dark expressive eyes, well defined sharp cheek bones and sensuous mouth were just beautiful, objectively speaking off course.

'No search engines offer any constructive informative about you either,' Samantha got out.

'You and I seem to have a lot in common, Ms. St. Claire. So what's the score now? Thirty all?' he grinned.

Infuriating man! Was she going to get anything out of him?

'I wasn't aware that we were keeping score,' she lied.

He lowered his eyes directly at her letting her know, he was not buying that line. 'Ms. St. Claire, seeing the lateness of the hour, may I treat you to dinner,' he glanced at his watch. I'm starving, my last meal was at breakfast this morning.'

'I've eaten already,' she lied again.

Blake Tresscott studied Samantha as he picked up the handset and spoke into it, 'Mrs. Carter you may bring in dinner thank you.'

'You will have to watch me indulge in dinner, as you interrogate me Ms. St. Claire, I'm afraid I'm no good on an empty stomach,' he threw that annoying grin at her again, 'or you could change your mind and join me,' he murmured, rather too softly.

She shook her head.  Dammit she had wanted to get stuck into him and panel beat him with questions, now all she desired was to the get the hell out of there. It had taken her practically five days to get an audience with him, now that she had it, all she wanted to do was escape. What was wrong with her? She was a professional, skill hardened and trained in the uncompromising hills of Afghanistan, the war torn streets of Israel, and in God forsaken training fields under the unforgiving, harsh African sun. Surely she could handle this one civilian male? She'd crossed swords with hardened criminals and had emerged victorious on many an occasion.

'Go ahead with your questions, while I help myself,' he smiled.

Samantha's tummy was starting to rebel. The aroma of pasta, some kind of creamy garlic sauce, and the smells of onions, peppers, olives in a salad were attacking her nostrils. She was sure she could also smell grilled chicken.

'Who has authority to transact internationally with Platinum's funds,' she blurted hurriedly.

'I and the two Fund Managers in the employ of my company, but all transactions need to be counter signed by the Financial Director,' he supplied.

'When was the last__'

She had to stop speaking because he stood in front of her, all six point eight feet of him, with a plate for her with some chicken pieces and salads bits for her to nibble on.

'I don't like to eat alone.'

Ten minutes ago, she would never have bet that she would hear that seductive tone of voice from him.

'Thank you,' she murmured accepting the plate.

Samantha balanced the plate on her knee, as she read from her question sheet.

'Mr. Tresscott, when was the last time, you personally engaged in any transactions into your off shore accounts?' she enquired, as she bit into a piece of succulent chicken.

'It's why I've employed the two fund managers, in the last twelve months, I've hardly had the time to maintain my investments, and I travel extensively,' he offered, as he skillfully negotiated with his pasta.

Samantha realized she was staring and quickly mumbled, 'Mmm this is very good, thank you.'

'I'd love to say it's my pleasure to cook you this delicious meal, but I'm afraid I can't take credit, but I agree the catering company offers excellent cuisine,' he was becoming extravagant with that smile.

'I don't believe it!' he exclaimed.

'What?' she questioned in alarm.

'She smiles!' he hauled out his mobile and snapped a picture off her.

'What are you going to do with that picture?' she demanded.

'Nothing, it's just going to stay on the phone,' he took a huge bite into a piece of chicken.

Samantha stared as his cheeks moved methodically up and down as it worked on the chicken, she dragged her eyes away, looking out the window.

Blake Tresscott got up and poured her a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice, 'You don't drink on duty right?' he teased handing her the glass.

This man's ESP is __is__.

'If you have another agenda for that photo, I'll advise you to delete it right now,' she instructed.

'I don't.  Next question, Ms. St. Claire.'

'Are you married? Does anybody in your personal life have access to transact with Platinum's funds?' she avoided looking at him.

'No, to both questions,' he grinned.

'If you were married, I'd have had to interrogate your spouse,' she offered.

He waived his hand in the air as if agreeing with her substantiation, although she was questioning herself about the validity of that question, it was not on her list of questions.

'Mr. Tresscott, do all the diamonds your company exports comply with the resolution of the Kimberly Process?'

For the first time she saw anger briefly in his eyes, before it was quickly masked.

She knew all the diamond dealers in Africa were very sensitive about the Kimberly Process, which required exporters to certify that their diamonds were not "blood diamonds" acquired in conflict ridden areas, where blood was shed.

He stood up and tossed the napkin onto the tray, 'Ms. St. Claire, I am responsible for every diamond traded that bears my company's name. I am accountable for every diamond that is exported by Platinum. I do not deal in blood diamonds. Our records department has certification for every diamond transaction since the inception of my company,' he turned around and looked her directly in the eye. 'You are free to inspect those records,' he offered.

'Thank you, I will. I think we've covered enough for our first meeting. My next meeting is scheduled with your Financial Director.'

He nodded, and seemed to have lost interest in their conversation, or her interrogation.

'I will be spending a fair amount of time here in the next few weeks, together with a team auditing your financial data for the last twelve months. Can you also arrange for me to access financial data, bank statements, off shore fund accounts for the last two years,' she requested.

'Consider it done,' he responded.

'Mr.Tresscott why are you investigating your own company?'

He hesitated momentarily before responding, 'I thought it prudent to invite NPS and the Receiver of Revenue to identify where the problem is. I have been reliably informed that diamonds I know nothing about, have landed in London, claiming it came from my company. Either some persons are out to sabotage me, or I have an internal problem,' he looked at her, not pleased to make that confession.

'I have to trust the people I employ, I cannot do it all on my own. And if you were to ask me, there is not one person I know off in my company, whom I can place any suspicion on.'

'I would like a copy of your diary for the last twelve months,' she requested.

He glared at her as if she had just pierced him with a knife.

'I'm still Suspect Number One?' his brown eyes blazed into hers.

Samantha looked away. She had a job to do. He was not going to dictate how she should conduct her investigation.

'Can you also allocate office space for five people for an indefinite period. My team will be here in a day or so. I'd also like you to second an administrative person who will assist in providing access to all documentation we will be requesting to view.'

'Ms. St. Claire, I'd like you to be discreet as you go about your investigation, I'd rather not make the guilty party nervous.'

'You may send out a memo informing your staff that we are just conducting a routine audit,' she suggested, 'you are required to do that annually,' she reminded him.

'Yes good idea, though our external audit is actually only due in three months time, but we'll cross that bridge in three months time,' he nodded.

'Thank you for your time, and __the dinner,' she offered a polite smile, 'I'll call your secretary for our follow up meeting,' she rose from her chair.

'Dinner was my pleasure, Ms. St. Claire,' he was at her elbow offering his assistance.

Oh he was turning on the charm now.

With amazing speed he held the door open for her.  'Perhaps we can do dinner again in more ambient surroundings,' he murmured invitingly.

'Perhaps not,' she slung her bag on her shoulder walking out before he could offer another retort.

                                                                        -end chapter one-