CAUGHT IN THE 'MIXST'

WHERE TWO HEARTS MEET

CHAPTER 3

If there was anybody having a bleeding heart, it surely was Daniel Jordan. His phone, carefully placed at the corner of the sofa had been on record. His parents didn't know. Yes. He did have a brother. Craig. Craig Jordan, who was killed in a JetLine crash. The Calvary, the mysterious group heard on the record were just that. 'Mysterious'. He trembled inside.

It was unfair this truth was kept from him. ''Craig... My brother...'' He muttered to himself.

Hours had gone by now since the revelation, Mr. Jordan edged to his son's room door. No sound. He fingered the knob. Turned. It was locked. Nothing.

The morning was overcast with clouds and chilly winds were blowing but it was crisp and clear. The sun cast a rosy hue across the slightly blue sky. Golden fingers of sunlight lit up the spacious scene.

Waking up to discover he hadn't undressed. Thoughts of his discoveries came rushing back.

09:48 AM.

''Arrrghh...'' He groaned, placing his palm on his forehead. There was a knock on his door.

''Who is that?''

''Burton sir...''

''I'm coming.'' He got up. Looking at his reflection, his eyes were swollen a bit. It was a weary sleep. He plodded towards the door.

''Your father wants you downstairs sir.''

''Okay. I'll be there.''

Words seemed too heavy to spill. He imagined how all would have turned out if his brother had survived and was here with him. Things would be different. He knew it. Grabbing his towel, he headed to the bathroom to have a bath.

At the breakfast table, words were better left unsaid. Just the 'cling cling' sound of fork hitting plate could be heard. The silence was bizarre and queer. It was becoming uncomfortable.

''Son.. We are returning to Nigeria.''

''Oh... Great.'' Daniel replied without looking up.

''We are sorry.'' Mrs. Jordan added.

He looked up. ''You could tell me what happened. Everything.''

Mr and Mrs. Jordan stared at each other. It was a nod of acceptance. He wanted to know. It was his right to know.

''Thirty one years ago, we had your elder brother, Craig. It was at a time your father wanted to venture into an Airline business. Numerous occasions we received letters of death threats from unknown competitors. On one occasion, they attacked us but they were masked men. They never mentioned exactly who they were or who sent them.'' Mrs. Jordan paused.

Mr. James got the clue and continued.

''They warned me not to venture into the Airline business or they would take away the thing we cherished the most.'' He swallowed hard as he continued. ''After three miscarriages, your mother here finally had your brother. Your brother, Craig. The doctor said we had a very slight chance of having another due to the various surgeries and operations she underwent.''

''Your father...'' Mrs. Jordan interrupted placing her hands on Daniel's. ''He succeeded in owning the JetLine Airway. Some couple of years later, we received an invitation to be in Abuja for a conference meeting and we were going to use the private jet at the port. The security guards were instructed to put Craig on board but no sooner had he gone in when...''

The words were too heavy to finish.

''He died?'' Daniel asked in a quavering voice.

''The jet exploded.'' Mr. James submitted. ''He was killed along with four security guards.''

''After the explosion, we received a secret parcel from an anonymous group called The Calvary. We don't know who they are, their letter still leaves a bile taste in my buds. They vowed your father would never have an heir to inherit his wealth. Daniel, your birth to us was a miracle. I got pregnant four years after the incident and we vowed to take care of you. We couldn't risk losing you. We traveled to Los Angeles here in the United States where your father and I bought an estate. People assumed we were childless so we left them to keep thinking so. The plan your father has for your return is to will everything to you. You have to understand this Daniel. We want the best for you.''

Daniel sighed deeply. This really happened? Who were these men? Calvary. The Calvary. He laughed. It was a nervous one.

''Mom.. I get it now. I really do but..this is over twenty years ago. Whoever these Calvary men are, they must have stopped existing. I just want to live a normal life, find a woman, and settle down.''

''What's wrong with Vanessa?''

''No, mum. We are not getting back together. We are over for good.''

''When do you plan to come over?''

''I don't know yet. I have my plans.''

THE CALVARY GROUP STILL EXISTS. AND THEY'VE BEEN WATCHING AND WAITING. THEY GOT PLANS TOO..

SURULERE, LAGOS, NIGERIA.

One of the busiest and most active cities in the world. From early morning, traffic starts building up. Crowds of pedestrians, shoppers and others can be seen walking along the pavements outside the shops or trying to cross the busy road.

The noise of cars and buses in yellow and black stripes hooting at each other was deafening. The main attraction is the variety of textile shops, departmental stores, jewelers or electrical goods shops, pavement stalls and of course, the restaurants..

In the heat of the the rush, one can savour the delicious aroma of several local dishes along the wayside. 'Moin moin' made from grinded beans with chunks of fish or egg and wrapped with a special leaf, there was the 'agoyin beans' popularly called 'ewa agoyin' also made from beans with heated palm oil best suitable with bread. 'Agege' bread to be precise. There was the favorite amala joint also. A special type of food made from cassava which can be eaten with ewedu or egusi. Foods like these could make men salivate.

There were also the high class eatery joints such as Sweet Sensation, Tantilizers, Dominos, Shoprite and the likes. In the afternoon, the crowds grow bigger as office workers join the throngs of people.

Vivianah Tosny was tossing and turning over her bed unable to get some sleep. She sat up, moved towards her study table to bring out her diary and scribbled down her usual day to day events. Today was not eventful. In fact, she just finished a round of war on words with her father.

''Dear diary..'' She began. ''Today has got to be the worst day of my life and honestly, I feel trapped...''

A lady in her early 20's, she bagged her degree in Business Administration with a commendable grade. Slightly fair in complexion with midnight black hair which tumbled over her shoulders. She had a striking pose of elegance radiating in one body with natural velvety eyelashes. Her shapely figure complemented her long legs.

She stood up and paced around her room, the spacious inn which contained well decorated and furnished interiors, a family sized bed covered with blue and white stripes, and the air conditioner just doing its work and keeping the heat out. She bit her lips. ''I don't want to work in my father's company.'' Her father didn't take her decision lightly but her mind was made up.

The office held an exquisite look with its physically alluring and bright white walls which matched the chairs. Its spaciousness and transparent windows were elementary stepping stones which gave anyone inside the bright view of nature's most exquisite charms.

A line of ball pens and pencils was tucked in a mug close to the laptop sitting idly in the large desk.

He was the Managing Director of JorFam's branch in Surulere, Lagos state. Exceptionally gifted in the business earning the respect from his workers and the chairman himself, Mr. James Jordan. At 30, one could conclude without iota of doubt that he was getting very much out of life.

He wasn't a male model but he should have been. With his moderate haircut delicately joined to his beards, he was built with somewhat like a wrestlers physique. His Roman nose and half dome cheekbones sat above an oaken jaw. His wrestler's shoulders were part of his burly physique.

His derring-do personality and bass voice were part of his ambitious character. His nifty appearance was appealing.

There was a knock on the office door.

''Come on in.''

''Good afternoon sir. These are the documents from the institutes. They will require your signature.''

''Thank you. And what about the updates from our previous reporters?''

''Nothing yet sir. They are asking us for a little more time.''

''That will be all for now Cynthia. You may go. Keep me informed.'''

''Alright sir.''

He was alone in the office now. He stretched his legs, placing one on the other with his arms at the back of his head. Life was good.

JorFam, a Beverage company started by Mr. James and Marah Jordan. The business has stretched across the country with the headquarter situated at the capital city of the same state. A smart decision by the Jordans to be able to monitor both his Airlines and other surrounding businesses.

The business he started about thirty five years ago, competitors everywhere but JorFam products easily outsold them. Their quality could never be matched.

She sat at the front of her desk. Typing and jotting down encrypted codes in a document. Her glasses slightly bent to the edge of her nose. It was all work as usual. Not that she hated it. But she was the only one who could do this part of the job almost without mistake.

''00419985, this has got to be the last one.''

A wave of relief swooped through as she yawned. It had been a busy and hectic day.

''Cynthia...''

She looked up sleepily peering over her laptop table to see her colleague staring at her.

''Joy...'' She called

''You want to wear yourself out?''

She smiled drily. ''Just wanted to be done with this part..''

''Hard worker.. Come on, give yourself a break. Eaten yet?''

''No.'' She replied yawning again. This time, it was louder.

''Jeeezz Cynthia, you need help.''

She laughed. ''I know.'' hitting the table in the process. She gently positioned her laptop to ensure all her works were properly saved.

''All done., let's go.''

They both headed to the company's canteen. One of the finest exquisite suites. Sequined chandeliers hanging on top the roof. Immaculately placed napkins on the tables. As a company dealing with consumption of food, there was every need to take unsullied care of every edible and even non edible foods. Even the utensils were not left out.

Waitresses in matching aprons were marching around. Taking orders, taking out the empty dishes. Working.

''Your orders please.'' A woman in a standing apron asked. She had a jotter in hand.

''What will you like to have?'' Joy asked.

''I'm famished right now... Jollof rice and chicken will do. With one hollandia yoghurt.''

''I will have same.''

She left with their orders. Cynthia rubbed her hand over her sweaty forehead. Even the fans weren't helping.

''You look disturbed.'' Joy pointed out, reaching for her neck to feel her temperature.

''Wait, is it so obvious?''

''Yes. You look pale. Is it the stress at work?''

Cynthia chuckled. She was fine. Maybe she wasn't though, but she knew she wasn't sick. It was something entirely different.

''I think I am falling for someone.''

Joy was wide eyed, shocked and surprised at the same time.

''With who?''

She placed her two hands on her cheeks ...''Our boss.''

''You are joking...aren't you?''

''No.. I'm not. I don't know why or how but I just find myself thinking so much about him. I wonder if he'll ever feel the same way.''

''Awwwn...'' Joy teased. ''You will never know unless you try. Who knows, maybe Mr. Tim Maxwell probably feels the way too. Don't you know you are a spec?''

Cynthia laughed out ''Joy abeg, ozugo, e don do. Thank you.''

''Go for it girl.''

They finished their lunch before resuming back for work.