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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?”
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 yanke…[Read more]
Level Two, Nnamdi Tech., VI.
Simon was notorious for singing too loud. And off tune, too. In fact, he didn’t understand the French spoken in the song he was listening to. Peter had little problem with that. What he found disturbing was, of course, the vibration and the beat. But right now, he wouldn’t let that deter him.
He continued with wha…[Read more]
Nnamdi Technological Services, Victoria Island, Lagos. 12:00 PM.
Lanre stood on the rooftop with a camera in hand. He was picking out obscure areas and viewing them with the camera’s lens.
An insignificant dot appeared in the distance, and then grew bigger into a bird-like figure. It was approaching the building directly. It took a w…[Read more]
“You can only use it if—”
“If what?” the rest of the boys cut into Christian’s words. They moved toward him, half pleading, half menacing.
“If you use a glove,” Christian said. “My daddy told me.”
About five of them muttered, “Gloves, gloves,” as if testing the bitterness with their mouth. Simon turned to Charles. “Your gloves, Charles.”
The spectators had scattered on the field, trying to fly over the fence, some running back into the school’s inner corridor. Apparently, the sixty-something-year-old gateman, having discovered the rowdiness in the school compound and not strong enough to control the situation, had tipped the police.
Peter’s phone buzzed in his pocket all the…[Read more]
Preparation went on as if for the Biafran war. By four-fifty-five, all male teachers who could have influenced the fight had gone home. Barely two teachers remained—and they were females. The school principal was a short woman of over fifty. The gateman was over sixty. In short, all what constituted the stronghold of Olivet Memorial in the m…[Read more]
“Deal,” Peter said. He moved toward Jones slowly. “The deal’s sealed.”
Jones laughed again. “You know you cannot fight,Peteru.”
“Not with weapons,” Peter shot back. “You forgot there’ll be a lot of weapons.”
Jones chuckled this time. “Bring it on.”
Christian marched into the group and faced Jones. “You’d better prepare for me also. Because I’…[Read more]
Chapter 6 con’td
Olivet Memorial High School, GRA, Ikeja, Lagos. Five years ago.
The four-feet-ten Christian Igbinedon entered the second class marked SS2B.
“Small boy!” someone yelled from the back of the class. “This isn’t SS2A. What are you doing here?”
Christian ignored the voice and went to the class captain’s seat. The bespectacle…[Read more]
Nnamdi Technological Services, Adeola Odeku Street, Victoria Island, Lagos. 7:00 AM.
Nnamdi Technological Services was a six-story building with blue, tinted glass walls and a big crafted plastic letters echoing the company name glued to the front edge of the top of the top floor.
A young man in his early thirties drove them, according…[Read more]
Now that peter is with Nmandi tech. Do you think he will work for nmandi or against him.
If you think he will work for nmandi tech state why and if you think he will blow their cover also state how.
Stay tuned new episode drops this evening
Chapter 5 con’td
Peter took cue and aimed his gun at one of the men. Simon stood back-to-back with Peter, aiming his own gun at one of the men, too. At least, if they would die any minute from now, they should make a run for it.
Peter remembered one of his high school days. They were discussing fight-or-die situations and what they would have done…[Read more]
Chapter 5 con’td
Peter couldn’t believe how close Simon was running up behind him. He was even yelling at Peter to never stop.
The BMW revved and its sound drowned the rapid sound of footsteps hitting the sidewalk. The headlights came on, blindfolding, casting the shadows of the three running figures on the asphalt in front of them.
The driver k…[Read more]
Maureen Hotel and Suites, Lagos Island, Lagos. 5:00 AM.
The Lagos Island Central Mosque blared its loud speakers over a five-mile radius in a call forFajr, signaling the reluctant dawn over the city of Lagos.
Peter stood at his room’s window, staring out into the open black space. There were skyscrapers scattered far away, some t…[Read more]
@frankkay @repentance @fridex @qeenvick @ladyg
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@odunayo @loveth @fb-anuoluwajoshua
@oneal32 @jacopet @olayintan @kingsbest
@victoriouschild @itzprince @omolara
@frank @jerrie @bestabbey @gracedkyenny
@ambrosesilver @fii-fi @lonewolf05…[Read more]
CHAPTER 4 CON’TD
“You’re leaving together, right?” she said. There was something in her tone that meant she knew what she was saying.
Peter stopped and turned.
“I mean at the same time.”
“Maybe you should check him at the bar, first.”
Peter rushed to the bar on the fifth floor at the back of the hotel. It was a hall with co…[Read more]
Chapter 4 CON’TD
He had an idea. On the bedside table where a table phone was placed, there was a flyer containing short codes placed beside their corresponding departments in the hotel.
Peter took the receiver from its prong, hoped to God the phone would bypass the Nigerian factor and work, and dialed the reception. After the fifth ring, a deep…[Read more]
Chapter 4 CON’TD
He was grinning, laughing, and looking sexually at the day, when Peter asked him impatiently, “What do you want to order?” He made a that’s-how-you-do face at Simon.
The conversation stopped. Or seemed to stop for a while. Because after Simon had ordered a bottle of malt and Peter a bottle of Pepsi as appetizer—so Simon put it—…[Read more]
Adeola Odeku Street, Victoria Island, Lagos. 8:30 PM.
On the rooftop of a six-story building, a man sat on a cushion chair under a veranda built on a staircase house. Bright lightbulbs hung on the walls of the staircase lit the open space.
The man was twice Simon’s size, stoutly built, and head glued to his shoulders as if he had no n…[Read more]
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