FicStorm's The Chase

Chapter Seventeen

22:16

“You’re too late.”

“You were meant to keep them till I got here.” Bright yelled above the muffled sound of music from the dance floor. The hatred burned in his eyes as he stared at Okigbe who stood with his hands in his pocket. They now stood in John’s real office. The big one that had several monitors that allowed him to see different parts of his club all at once. The one with a comfortable swivel chair, an expensive Formica table that could have probably been imported, and a shelf that was filled with assorted wine and drinks. They were the only ones in the office as Okigbe had told the bodyguards to excuse him.

“What do you mean by ‘them’?”

“The boy and the girl?”

“What boy? Who mentioned anything about a boy? I told Blackhawk that I saw Essy walking into my nightclub.”

“Are you saying there was no boy with her?”

“I’m starting to think you’ve lost your mind, Bright.” Okigbe said calmly as he watched Bright’s expression get darker. “Is this about the blow that you received earlier at the girl’s school?” The rage on Bright’s face turned to surprise.

“You are wondering how I know about that. Blackhawk told me about it. He knows. You didn’t tell him, but he knows. Blackhawk knows everything and you of all people should know that.” John laughed and walked for his desk. He sunk deep into the chair and began swaying while he watched Bright clench and unclench his fist.

“You’re in trouble, Bright. I’d advice you to stay away from Blackhawk till you get his girl. Maybe after that, he might be in a good mood to spare your life. Goodnight, Bright.” Okigbe said conclusively and waved at the door for Bright to get out of his office. When Bright had gone and shut the door behind him, Okigbe reached for his desk phone and hit a number on speed dial. He listened patiently to the ring back tune with the receiver glued to his ear. The call was picked on the second ring.

“Hello. I’ve been waiting to hear from you, John.”

“Unfortunately, it’s on bad terms. Your puppy has broken free of its leash.”

There was prolonged silence on the other end.

GAUTENG, JOHANNESBURG

To the outside world, Henry Paul Senior was a wealthy businessman. The Chairman and CEO of Henry Paul Group of companies. But in the shadows, he was the director of operations at the Department of Secret Affairs. The DSA had nothing to do with how he got his first million but one of his abandoned structures in Lagos served as the headquarters of the DSA. The DSA operated underground and would not have been visible to anyone just passing the abandoned structures.

As Henry Paul had climbed on to success back in the years, he had been left to choose between politics and intelligence. His father who was a senator at that time had come up with the choices. Paul had never been a fan of politics and for that reason chose the better devil, but soon he found out that politics was everywhere. The same politics had pushed him up to where he was in the DSA. Nevertheless, he was happy where he was. All the director of operations had to do was sit down in an office and collect information from the operatives and agents and decide what went to the top. The director was never allowed to go into the field but here he was going against the rules of the DSA.

When leaving Nigeria, Paul had taken excuse from the DSA that he was taking a business trip to Paris. He landed in Paris with Emilia, but took another flight to Washington D.C immediately. After roaming the city for an hour with his wife in a hired vehicle, they boarded a flight to Johannesburg where they lodged in a hotel. His tired wife did not bother asking him about why he had gone through all the trouble. She was the all-knowing-Emilia after all. The psychologist who thought she knew more about everyone than they knew about themselves. And in Paul’s case, he had to admit that she did. He knew now that he could not hide anything from her and that eventually she was going to find out. He could not hide anything from her. He had tried several times in the past and failed. When they finally settled in their suite, Paul could assume that she had already figured out that he hadn’t come to South Africa for some business trip for his company. He also knew that anytime soon the questions were going to start. It was after the call from their son that the questions started. She had wanted to go back to sort things out, but he didn’t want her to and that had led to the questions. Eventually, he told her and that was why she was seated in the car with him as he drove. He was there for a mission that didn’t involve the DSA. He was there to do an old friend a favor. A mission that the DSA would never have approved of. Their destination was a house in Westcliff. It was not a long drive from the suite but Paul got tired of hearing Emilia grumble.

“I’ve told you already. This is something we can handle easily.” Henry said calmly.

“This is a threat. Don’t you see it? Richard is…”

“As long as the DSA is not involved, Richard is not under any threat.”

“You aren’t seeing where this could lead.”

“We were told to look out for the extraordinary and nothing is looking out of the ordinary…”

“…Yet. You’ve totally forgotten that we were also told that the extraordinary would be triggered by extreme stress or a case of severe trauma.”

“I worry about Richard too, honey, but I think that call can wait a little. We can’t put our man in danger for…”

“It would be too late by then.”

“Jesus! Emilia, be positive. It can never go wrong. We got this.”

“Have you called the lawyer?”

“Well… er… I…I…”

“…Haven’t.” They said simultaneously. “Good. We got this.” Emilia said caustically.

A few moments later, they were seated in the living room of a duplex. The room wasn’t furnished to look luxurious, but Paul was pleased with the décor. Three sofas were arranged to form a semicircle and there was a small table with a nice flower vase on it. Paul could not be sure if it was the flower in the vase that gave the room its nice scent but he liked it. He and his wife were seated on the longest sofa. The one that gave them a clear view of the television-not like they cared about the television-that was switched off. The TV was a big flat screen and the home theatre was arranged perfectly with a stack of CDs by the side. There was a painting right above the TV. Henry had little idea about art but he knew he was staring at an abstract painting. There was no figure or object in the framed painting. It just looked like someone had taken time to splash one million colors on a canvas and decided to frame it. On both sides of the painting, framed photographs lined the wall. There were wedding photographs, There was one of a woman surfing on the beach, one of a man skydiving and another of a couple on a speedboat. Paul’s eyes drifted from the photographs to the archway that separated the dining from the living room. There, in a corner was an ancient desktop with its screensaver on display. The dinning room had a separate fan but it was the same with the one in the living room and it was set at the same velocity. He also noticed the beaded curtain that was used to demarcate the living room from a passageway that led to other rooms. The lights in the living room were dimmed but were bright enough for Paul to know that he was sitting in a neat room. There was no single speck of dust and as if Emilia was pondering about the same thing, she said in a low whisper,

“I thought we were here to see a junkie. How does she manage to keep the house so clean?”

Paul knew the answer. His friend had sent him a detailed profile of the woman he was here to see. Everything he needed to know for his mission. And from what he had read in the profile, he knew the woman was not the one who did the cleaning. He had half expected the house to be covered in cobwebs and maybe have some rats scuttling around, scratching at his shoes. He hadn’t even planned to come to the house because of the way he had imagined it. It was Emilia’s idea that he went to the house and he wouldn’t have gone if she didn’t decide to follow him. She hadn’t gotten the chance to go through the woman’s information like he did, so he had given her a brief account of what the woman was like and she had come up with the idea, deciding that she was going to take the lead while he played along.

The beaded curtain rattled as their quarry walked into the living room. The woman looked like she was in her late forties but from the profile, she was in her early thirties. The woman had on a transparent lilac nightgown that left nothing to imagination. She sank deep into a separate sofa like a dead wood. Her long brown hair was wild and rough like she had taken extra care to make it look that way. Paul noticed she was barefooted and that made him feel guilty for coming in with his shoes. He looked down at his shoes and noticed for the first time that the floor had white tiles that were also neat. According to the profile, the woman’s name was Minenhle but he was still struggling to pronounce the name correctly. Emilia knew how to pronounce it better. It was a good thing that she was taking the lead.

“You both look like you’re here for serious business.” Minenhle spoke. Her voice came out raspy and dry and wouldn’t have been out of place if it came from a man. It reminded Paul of the voice of the great dragon in Merlin. The woman went on to comment on Paul’s suit. She thought it was expensive and she was right, but Paul didn’t see the need to confirm it to her. He just cleared his throat and spoke.

“You’re right to assume that we’re here for serious business.”

“And what kind of business is carried out by this time of the night.” Minenhle said with her eyes fixed on Paul as though she found him fascinating. “What are you guys? You can’t be from the bank.” She said and bit her lower lip. She crossed her legs with her eyes still fixed on Paul who was already thinking he couldn’t get more uncomfortable. He had expected it but, he didn’t want it. He wanted the woman sober. It was the only way they were going to achieve their goal faster. Emilia was going to deal the cards soon and eventually she would sober up.

“There’s a little girl in your custody.” He said.

“And you said that like you just exposed some big secret.”

“It’s not a secret that you have a little girl in your custody, but it’s a big secret that you’re not fit to take care of a little girl.” Emilia chipped in.

“Fit? As in, you think I’m sick?” She winked at Paul.

“Sick would be an understatement.” Paul said and Emilia continued.

“We know of your misconduct and your dereliction of duty towards the little girl.”

“Oh. She’s been talking to people, hasn’t she?” Minenhle said and she threw her head back. She laughed out loud, and then in a loud voice, she called in the native Zulu language. “Iminathi! Wena omkhulu enkingeni kulobubusuku!” Iminathi, you’re in big trouble tonight!

“You just implicated yourself with those words.” Emilia said calmly.

“What do you mean? Who are you guys?” Minenhle was clearly surprised that she was understood, and now she was no longer paying any attention to Paul which was what he wanted, and Emilia had barely even started. Right now, Paul could guess that the woman was thinking they were from the federal department in charge of child protection and care.

Three years ago, Minenhle had gotten married to a divorcee. A full year after their marriage, the man had died and left her with the fourteen year old daughter from his first marriage and a will that left everything to the girl. The house they were now seated in belonged to the fourteen year old and that was possibly the reason why the woman hated the girl but yet wouldn’t want the girl taken from her by anyone. Even the government. The profile he had digested explained all of it. Emilia had heard all of it and was determined just as he was to get the girl out of the woman’s clutch, but she didn’t know there was more to it than just rescuing an abused child. She was going to find out later, he was sure of that. But rescuing the girl appeared to be her main objective at the moment.

“We are here for the girl.” Paul said.

“You’re joking. That’s actually meant to be a joke, right?” Minenhle was totally sober now. It seemed more like a different spirit had possessed her.

“Do I look like I’m cracking a joke?” Emilia said sternly.

“In that case...” Minenhle brandished three of her fingers and looked at them like they were the most interesting thing in the world. “…I have just three words for you…” She grinned and then counted each finger as she picked the words, “…Go. To. Hell.” She chuckled.

Paul was surprised but he didn’t show it. She had put up a good act of making him think she was sober. But Emilia’s comeback surprised him more.

“Well, that’s where we’re coming from and we’ve got a room for you closest to the source of the fire. Let me elucidate. If we don’t leave with the girl tonight, we could either go to the authorities and report all your misdemeanors and felonies which include drug abuse and addiction, child abuse and a few others we intend to add to the list. The police already have your record of perjury, manslaughter and vandalism. Those would be nothing compared to what we could add and then your sorry ass lands in jail.

“Yes we could do that, or we could easily make your death look like a suicide right now and nobody would rethink it because you’re a self-destructive, suicidal wretch. You die and we get the girl before they can assign her to foster parents. Both ways, you lose big time and nothing in the will can help you.”

“Why do I feel like I’m being threatened?”

“Alright then. Maybe you’d like to hear the plan my partner had for you before I convinced him that we have this conversation with you.” Emilia said and gave Paul a slight nod. Originally, before Emilia’s intervention, his plan had been to abduct the girl and get her out of town. His friend had also sent him a profile on the girl as well. Her profile contained the school she went to and the route she passed to and fro everyday. But Emilia had easily ruled out the idea with seven reasons that made sense to him. At this point, he knew he wasn’t meant to dish out that plan. She had told him what to say and this was the cue to deliver the blow that would turn things in their favor.

“Does institutionalization appeal to you? How does the thought of detoxification and rehab center sound?” Emilia had told him the effect of the words but he was seeing it for himself. The woman sat upright immediately and the smirk vanished from her face replaced with fear. Paul wasn’t sure if it was another act, but he saw on her face, what he would see on the face of someone who had just been stabbed. Emilia had told him that from her years of experience as a psychoanalyst, she had come to observe that drug addicts feared nothing more than not being able to get access to drugs. She had said that the thought of it alone was painful for them.

“If nothing else scares you, I’m sure that does.” Emilia said with a forced grin. Paul knew it was there for show. He could see that Emilia wanted nothing more than to pound the woman to pulp, but the grin was the key to making her feel uncomfortable.

“You guys know I can’t just give you the girl like that.” Her voice came out as a whisper.

“There’s a catch. You get all the fortune in the will.” Emilia said.

“That, plus we are willing to expunge your criminal record. You can also make demands, so, what’s it going to be?” Paul added.

“People would ask questions.”

“If that’s going to be a problem, then we have a solution.” Paul said.