Oliver drew back and then
to the right, bypassing car after car, circling the guy until he was behind
him, two rows away.
Inching
forward, Oliver advanced, never taking his eyes off the man.
One
row down, one more to go. Oliver came close, his black leather dress shoes
making no sound on the interlocking stones below.
And
then, he was directly behind him, able to see the folds of fat in the back of
his neck.
The
accomplice swung around, surprised to see a white man standing right behind
him. His brows merged, his eyes started to narrow and then Oliver smiled.
“Hello
sir, can you tell me if I’m in the International Conference Centre?”
The
man’s face relaxed slightly. He eyed Oliver. “Yes, yes, you are.”
“Thank
you very much, sir.”
And
as the man began to turn back to face the entrance of the park, Oliver dug his
hand into his jacket, pulled out a gun and rammed it into the guy’s flabby
side.
The
man froze, eyes round. Uncomprehending. Scared.
He mumbled, “What?”
“Give
me the detonator now.”
“I
don’t know-”
“Don’t
tell me you don’t know what I’m talking about because I’m not in the mood. I’m
hot and I’m angry and my fingers are itching to blow your fat stomach into
smithereens. Give me the detonator. Tell me where the bomber is.”
The
man’s eyes roamed the park, searching for help.
Oliver
leaned in close, sticking the muzzle of the gun deeper into his side. He
flicked the safety.
“Oh
God, Oh God, save me.” The man dissolved into a blubbering heap, tears leaking
from his eyes and down his cheeks.
“You’re
a coward, just like every other terrorist. Tell me what I want to know. Now!”
“Okay,
okay.” The terrorist wagged his head. “I-I’ll tell you b-but it won’t really
help. She… She h-has orders to d-detonate the bomb if she doesn’t h-hear from
me in five minutes.”
***
“Hot
Chocolate, you’re looking very pleased with yourself. What have you done?” Tari
said, grinning at Dare.
Dare
stretched his legs out and shook his head, struggling not to smile. He said, “I
don’t know what you mean, Tari.” The taste of Wumi remained on his tongue. And
he could still smell her scent even though she was backstage and he was here.
“Yeah
right.” she jacked up an eyebrow.
Tari
was sitting on Dare’s right, in the front row. On her right were three empty
chairs. Music was blasting from hidden speakers. People were taking their
designated seats. Voices raised in greeting rang all around them.
“Do
you think they’ll be here in time to catch the show?” Dare asked, glancing at
Tari.
She
shrugged. “I don’t know. I hope so.”
“What
do you know about this threat?”
“Not
much.”
“Come
on, Tari. You’re dating one of them.
Didn’t Steven tell you anything?”
“All
he told me was that some Boko Haram fanatics wanted to infiltrate this event
and cause some mayhem.”
“Like
a bomb?” Dare stared at Tari.
“He
didn’t say bomb, actually.” She sighed, then said, “I trust Steven and Oliver
and Kema. They’ll take care of everything.”
Dare
wiped his face with his hand. God help them all.
Tari
tugged at his arm. “Hey, lighten up. We’ll be fine. How’s everything at the
Lagos office?”
“Same
old.” Dare muttered. He added, “Sometimes I miss the time I spent working
here.”
“Of
course you do, because you miss working with your best friend.”
He
grinned at her. “Yes, I do.” Amazing how his forced transfer to Abuja had led
to him gaining a new best friend. It took Wumi months before she could finally
accept his relationship with Tari.
He
remembered the day Tari had strolled into his office, calling him ‘Hot
Chocolate’ and asking for his underwear size. He had thought she was nuts. His
opinion hadn’t changed much since then. And maybe that was why she was the only
woman in the world who could influence Steven Braithwaite.
“I
miss you too.” She squeezed his arm. “Hot Chocolate.”
“Will
you ever stop calling me that?”
“Never.
Don’t fight it. Go with the flow.”
“You
know Wumi hates the name.”
“Awesome.”
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Learn about the heroes and heroines in the Character Profile page
The Unhinged Book Series; Book 1, 2, and 3 will be out this 2016. Find out more at the Unhinged Books page
