KURT’S EYES TOURED over his father as Zik completed the cleaning of an Uzi pistol and began to dismantle a shotgun. The two of them were sitting on opposite ends of a square table in the gunroom in the Achike Family Mansion. It was in this room that his father stashed most of his guns. Zik treasured his guns, lovingly caring for them. Although, these days he didn’t use them as often as he used to. But, every once in a while, he still made time to travel with a couple of his pals to a private shooting range for a few days.
“Dad, you should have told us about the two previous calls from CSP Kanu.” Kurt’s right fingers rapped the wood of the table.
“I thought we’ve discussed this.” Zik muttered, his eyes on his work.
“Yes, we have... I just—”
“Did you come here from Fever Pitch?”
Kurt si
