Page 96 of Warlord’s Empire

“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.