Forums Coolval (series) A HUNT(a military crime story)

Viewing 8 posts - 153 through 160 (of 167 total)
  • Author
  • #1181697 Reply
    • "Posts"169
    • ☆☆

    Laptop and charger carefully enclosed inside his backpack, Peter strapped it onto his back. It took Simon some cajoling, arguing, and yelling before he agreed that it was time to move. He didn’t turn off the music, however.
    “I will enjoy it till the last second,” Simon said as he dressed up and danced in-between.
    Peter went to the table and yanked off Simon’s phone from the charger and the charger from the wall socket. Simon exclaimed.
    “Believe me,” Peter told him, “you won’t be needing it.” He tossed the phone to Simon. “All you will be needing,” and Peter took his pistol out and brandished it, “is this.”
    Simon froze. And then his face went from surprise to amazement to excitement. “It’s time for show, then.”
    A loud rumble enveloped the building like the sound of a grinding machine. Simon killed the music. The two boys listened with strained ears.
    The voice came from a speaker. Loud. Clearly audible as if it was sounding in their head.
    “Attention, everybody inside Nnamdi Technological Services building,” the voice said. “This is the Army. You’re housing a fugitive named Peter Adewale. You’re therefore ordered to deliver him to the helipad in fifteen minutes.”
    “They are here,” Peter said.
    “…makes you an accomplice…”
    “Let’s go,” Peter said.
    Simon quickly put on his top and they rushed out to the elevator. The floor counter was adding one to the number every time the elevator ran past a floor. It was ascending from level minus five.
    Simon made to press the elevator button. Peter grabbed his hand.
    “Not yet,” Peter said. “Let them go. We will follow behind.”
    The elevator stopped at level six. Peter and Simon waited. The helicopter was still making announcement. Then an idea struck Peter.
    “Simon, do you have an active data subscription?”
    “Oh, yeah? I thought you said we won’t be needing it.”
    “Slippersof tongue. Go to Jumia foodstore and order as much chin-chin as will go round us and everybody on that top floor.”
    “Chin-chin? Are you crazy?”
    “Give them the address of this place. Pay online with this,” and he handed Simon a debit card without a name. Simon squeezed his face at the card.
    “What? You’ve never seen the card before? It’s a pre-issued debit card for a zero account. It doesn’t carry a name.”
    As Simon worked his phone, the elevator began to descend.
    “They’re coming to get us,” Simon said.
    “No problem. Be fast with the order.”
    “What’s the address of this place?”
    “Who cares? Just put ‘Nnamdi Technological Services, Adeola Odeku Street, VI.’”
    Simon laughed. “Oh-ho. That’s clever.”
    The floor counter read level four. Then three. Then two. Peter was expecting it to open. It didn’t. Instead, it descended more and stopped at level zero.
    “That’s ground floor,” Peter said.
    “Done.” Simon handed the card back to Peter. “They will deliver it in forty minutes. What’s with ground floor?”
    “Someone is coming in from outside.”
    “What are we going to do?”
    “Fake being afraid. Got your gun?”
    “Don’t act like you’re in GRA at Ikeja with mad cows. This time, when the show begins, don’t miss.”
    They hid their guns behind their back.
    The elevator started ascending. Simon pressed the button and it stopped on level two. Peter had started shaking and breathing restlessly when the elevator opened. Simon had frozen as usual.
    Paul the supercomputer was in the elevator.
    “Please, sir,” Peter begged. Before he could say another word, the impact of an explosion rocked the building. Although they couldn’t see the fire, they recognized the sound.
    “Come in, come in,” Paul said.
    They did. He pressed number six on the elevator’s control dashboard. Simon opened his palms absentmindedly, letting Peter see it. The sign was, “What next?”
    Peter shook his head as if lamenting. That is to say, “No” or “Not now.”
    Some seconds later, Paul, Peter, and Simon emerged from the elevator. Fear lined Peter and Simon’s faces. Amidst the fake emotion, Peter scanned the area. None of the men had a gun. No bulging waistline, no holster, nothing. The weapon chest hung inside the left wall, the boys were scattered on the right before Nnamdi who sat on a sofa.
    Jerry sat at the central computer. “Thank God you’re here, Paul. Our computer has been hacked.”
    Peter espied Paul whose supercomputer brain had detected the USB drive plugged into the central computer’s CPU. As he headed for the drive, Simon unhooked his pistol and fired. A bullet rocked Paul’s head and he dropped on the floor like a bag of rice.
    “You bastard!” Scorpion made for Simon. Peter pulled the trigger and the bullet sent Scorpion crashing on the floor. Simon fired four times in the remaining boys’ direction, purposely missing them by twenty or more centimeters. Just for scare.
    The two boys approached the remnants. Slowly. Menacingly. Peter moved left toward the weapon chest and shot Nero who thought his wide chest and big muscles were necessary in the situation. He held his chest where the bullet had hit, gasped for air, before kicking the bucket.

    #1181698 Reply
    • "Posts"169
    • ☆☆

    Jerry made to stand up. Simon shouted him back down. “Your hands in the air,” Simon said. “Bring ‘em down one inch and that’s your end. Do you understand?”
    Jerry’s brow knitted in a V. He held his hands up slowly and gave a reluctant nod.
    “No, I want to hear it.” Simon pointed the pistol at Jerry’s forehead. “Understand?”
    Jerry didn’t reply.
    “Understand?” Simon repeated.
    “Say it.” Nnamdi’s voice was low and cold, but underneath it lay a threat and a menace.
    “Understand,” Jerry said.
    Peter was examining the weapon chest.
    Simon turned to Nnamdi. “Thanks for the pep talk.” And he emptied the remaining bullet in the chamber into his left leg. Nnamdi’s scream cut through the roof. Jerry flinched.
    Simon replaced the magazine with the spare they’d gotten early that morning and fired a shot past Jerry’s shoulder. “It seems you don’t understand our agreement. That’s the last warning shot. No more warning shots.”
    Peter unhooked an M16 rifle, plugged a magazine into it, and cocked it. “Better.”
    Mosquito suddenly grabbed the bazooka Scorpion had dropped and, knowing it was empty, hurled it toward Simon. Peter peppered the man with the M16. Mosquito shook as if practicing a choreography dance and dropped to the floor with a thud.
    Simon had evaded the weapon and fired at the monitor before Jerry. The place smelled of burned electrical panel. The monitor lay facedown on the keyboard.
    “When he said no more warning shots,” Peter said, “he meant…” and hesitated, and then continued, “…no more warning shots.”
    “Your hands in the air,” Simon ordered Lanre, Alpha, and the two men with them.
    “Look what they got,” Peter told Simon, taking a circular iron chain from the weapon chest. “A wristband bomb with a remote.”
    “Don’t do this,” Nnamdi said amidst groans.
    “Oh, I’m not bombing the place,” Peter said and fired over Lanre’s head. “You heard the man. Your hands in the air.” The four men quickly raised their hands. And then Peter turned to Nnamdi. “And I’m not bombing anybody, too. You need to understand what all this is all about.”
    “What-e—” Nnamdi coughed. “Whatever it is, Peter, don’t do this. I’ll give you whatever you want.”
    Peter laughed. “Quite ironic, eh… what is it you call yourself? Um… Papa. I have whatever I wanted now, Papa.” He nodded to Simon.
    “You.” Simon pointed his gun at one of the men. “Handcuff him,” and he pointed his gun at Jerry, “behind his back to the chair.”
    Peter took an handcuff from the weapon chest and threw it to the man. “Be fast with it.”
    Simon aimed at the man as he cuffed Jerry to the chair. Simon directed the man to cuff his colleague and then directed Lanre to cuff him. Lanre proved adamant a bit.
    “Lanre,” Simon said, “if you want us to continue being friends, handcuff the man.”
    Lanre looked Simon straight in the face. Simon fired. The bullet tore a tip of his ear and he stifled a grimace. Finally, Lanre cuffed the man.
    Simon shot stubborn Lanre in the right hand and left leg. Lanre dropped on the floor, groaning. Simon went to raise him onto a chair. Peter threw Simon a cuff and that was how Lanre ended up handcuffed behind his back to a chair.
    Peter pulled out the first aid box from the weapon chest. He bandaged Lanre’s hand and leg while Simon attended to Nnamdi. Nnamdi tried to shun Simon away. Simon placed the first aid items on the table before the sofa and gave Nnamdi a brain-resetting blow in the face.
    “We’re not monsters like you,” Simon said and forcefully bandaged the man’s leg.
    Peter and Simon pulled a chair. Simon sat first. Peter unhooked his backpack and dropped it on the floor. He sat on Simon’s left, and they both faced Jerry. They didn’t handcuff fat Nnamdi.
    “As I was saying, you all need to know what this is all about. Before that, I would like to let you know,” Peter told Jerry, “that I hacked your computer.”
    Nnamdi struggled to stand. Simon fired without looking at his direction. Nnamdi let himself fall back in place. Two inches from him, Simon’s shots drew a hole on the cushion and it smoked.
    “And I hacked it,” Peter said, went to the CPU, removed the USB drive, showed it to Jerry, and continued, “with this.”
    Jerry’s gaze became stony. He spat toward Peter’s face and hit bullseye.
    Peter laughed and cleaned the spittle with his dirty top. “Poor Paul found out too soon. I guess your training didn’t reach that stage, did it?”
    Jerry controlled a tear.
    Peter went back to his seat. “So, back to the reason for this mess. After hacking your computer and server, Papa, I read the last two of your mails. I must admit that Jerry is very good at cleaning up your email boxes.
    “You hacked Ikeja Cantonment’s server, framed me for it, and still want me to work for you. You engage in cocaine deals, rig elections for politicians, and still help greedy business tycoons s--k the poor dry.
    “And you hide under the umbrella of a tech company. This time, your fine building will not save you. Since you hacked the Army, they have been on my tail ever since.

    #1181890 Reply
    • "Posts"3107
    • ☆☆☆

    Nice One Peter Good Work

    #1181952 Reply
    Chidera Kingsley
    • "Posts"461
    • ☆☆

    Nice one keep it rolling

    #1181993 Reply
    Ibrahim abiodun
    • "Posts"2382
    • ☆☆

    I enjoyed this keep up

    #1182058 Reply
    • "Posts"14012
    • ☆☆☆☆☆


    #1182093 Reply
    • "Posts"19837
    • ☆☆☆☆☆

    They got them

    #1182097 Reply
    • "Posts"19837
    • ☆☆☆☆☆

    Why are you not putting episode number
    I won’t help you add the link if you keep on like this

Viewing 8 posts - 153 through 160 (of 167 total)
Reply To: A HUNT(a military crime story)

You can use BBCodes to format your content.
Your account can't use Advanced BBCodes, they will be stripped before saving.

Your information:

<a href="" title="" rel="" target=""> <blockquote cite=""> <code> <pre class=""> <em> <strong> <del datetime="" cite=""> <ins datetime="" cite=""> <ul> <ol start=""> <li> <img src="" border="" alt="" height="" width=""> <div class="">

Skip to toolbar