@Freshwaters you have done an excellent job. For SHADOWS, I am now on nairaland. been following up to chapter 26. It's just so delicious. Can't wait to get to the end of it. It's a bomb

freshwaters:


You aren't lazy bro, it's just that you haven't given it enough time. Make out time, maybe on weekends, say Saturdays and Sundays. At first you will find it difficult but with time your system will adjust to it and your ideas will flow more on those days.

I will want you to do it, because I know you can. I want to read your books also. You can start with short stories, then extend to nevella and further to full blown novels.

you are like a big brother.i think i will make out time thanks for the advice.but i am a medical student to be

Waiting for the remaining parts. It's been my food for today. well the break is good for me to enjoy the evening with friends. but please I'm anxiously waiting. Thanks

jnichole:
you are like a big brother.i think i will make out time thanks for the advice.but i am a medical student to be

It's awesome to know you are a medical student @ Jnichole.

That however shouldn't stop you from achieving your dream of becoming an author (a good one at that). I'm a lawyer myself, but it hasn't stopped me.

It will amaze you to know how much time you could make out of your fun time. Integrate the book writing hours into your relaxation time, and take it slow but steady. The slow and steady wins the race.

We are here to support.

One of the reasons i'm here is to encourage up coming writers like myself. Also I will encourage you to join a book club. Like they have ALS (Abuja Literary Society) in Abuja. They meet at Hilton Hotel, Silverbird and Salamanda Restaurant Wuse II.

Bro keep up the good work you will definitely achieve your goals based on the quality of your writing and your determination

I'm hooked just waiting for the next chapter
Tag me when next you upload



We dey your back

HarunaGalad:
Waiting for the remaining parts. It's been my food for today. well the break is good for me to enjoy the evening with friends. but please I'm anxiously waiting. Thanks

HarunaGalad i'm glad you love the book. It's great encouragement.

freshwaters:


It's always so @ Minemrys. But you need to be determined to finish any book you start. There are times the idea will not flow as you would want it, just give it some time and come back to it.

Also ensure you get the plot of your story in your head, the character threat, the conflicts and resolution of the conflicts and the central theme of the book. This will guide you in the process and before you know it you are totally drawn to the book.

I have developed this concept I see my characters as real human beings, I equate them with certain behavioural qualities and by do doing, it's much easier.

Pick your book again, create time and you will finish. Should you need any help you can email me. I will like to assist.

thanks 4 the advice. Just learnt s0mething new fr0m you.

I am not the kind that comments to a post but I felt compelled to do so. I must say that this story is very enchanting. Is very good to start a year with an interesting story like this. Funny enough, there are very little comment to this story compared to its substance.

freshwaters:


It's awesome to know you are a medical student @ Jnichole.

That however shouldn't stop you from achieving your dream of becoming an author (a good one at that). I'm a lawyer myself, but it hasn't stopped me.

It will amaze you to know how much time you could make out of your fun time. Integrate the book writing hours into your relaxation time, and take it slow but steady. The slow and steady wins the race.

We are here to support.

One of the reasons i'm here is to encourage up coming writers like myself. Also I will encourage you to join a book club. Like they have ALS (Abuja Literary Society) in Abuja. They meet at Hilton Hotel, Silverbird and Salamanda Restaurant Wuse II.

i reside in lagos though

freshwaters:


Niyah24 thanks a lot. That was a mistake. It should have been GNT not GTN.

Thanks for pointing that out. Noted!

Ywc...keep up d gud job

freshwaters:
* * * * * * *
IN THE PAST FEW YEARS, Steve Obi had gained unprecedented prominence. Young, married, and a devout Christian lawyer, he was called to the Nigerian Bar barely twelve years ago. Ten of those years he had dedicated to community service through human rights and public interest litigation. Many an innocent prison inmate owed their freedom to his compassion, his fervor and skill. He was highly renowned for the pro bono services he rendered. He was a favorite face on the television screens, especially when an obnoxious policy of any administration was being debated. His anticorruption outfit known as Steve Obi Foundation (SOFOUND) took the anticorruption war to the courtrooms.
Steve was a man much hated in political circles. Perhaps the only thing more obvious than his enmity with the political class was the overwhelming love the everyday people had for him.
Born thirty-eight years ago, Steve was a partner in Rodshield Chambers headquartered in Wuse Zone 3, Abuja. He had started this moderately successful practice eleven years ago with his friend and colleague, Kunle Mohammed Afolabi, just after they were called to the Bar. These two had been together right from their first year in the university. During their service year, they agreed to set aside sixty percent of their monthly allowance to enable them to start their practice immediately, since neither saw any need to work for the peanuts most law firms offered to new wigs. With a little family support, they started out as planned. At first it was a bitter struggle. But after sometime, the briefs trickled in with some consistence. The pro bono cases soon gave them some publicity. Eventually, it brought clients who paid.
Rodshield Chambers became so popular that it was christened “The People’s Shield”. The rich, the poor, the walking wounded, all flocked in. There was always something for everyone. At first, it was just the two of them and a receptionist. But with the influx of briefs, other lawyers as well as paralegal staff were employed. Apart from three more lawyers who eventually joined the firm, an office manager, an accountant, a janitor, and a librarian soon followed in quick succession. So also did other part-time staff, now numbering eight non-lawyers in all. Soon there was an annex office in Lagos.
With the large volume of pro bono cases, the income of the firm did not quite reflect their heavy business traffic, or their popularity, but somehow, they managed. Through the years, they had stuck together as a family. Recently, there had been some significant improvement, and everyone had enjoyed the reward for their patience.
Back in his hometown in Owerri, Steve was well-known for his community development efforts and volunteer services. He was widely regarded as a role model for the youth, not just in professional skills and moral values, but in social projects also that gave back to society. From freewill donations by friends—both the rich and the not-so-rich—SOFOUND had executed several small but high-utility projects around the state.
Eventually, Steve’s townsmen began to pressurize him to run for an elective office. They were convinced he would make a great representative. So on one of his frequent visits home, the elders and some of the prominent young men and women approached him. They said they were done allowing rogues to govern them—they needed a government which would truly cater to the yearnings and aspirations of the people and not steal their common wealth. At first, Steve was skeptical and very uncomfortable with the idea, knowing the dangers it portended to his family and career. But after wide consultations and prayers, he agreed to give it a try.
With the backing of his people, he decided to run for the senate— what he believed was a good place to start the change from. He also decided to run under the APNP—the All People’s National Party—because their ideology fit in with his aspirations. Also, they had nationwide spread and had offered him a fair chance at the primaries. Even though it was an opposition party, the party machinery was quite formidable. In addition, his own grassroots connection was solid.
Only his wife Matilda and Kunle his partner tried to dissuade him—a very tough job to do, once Steve’s mind was made up! Steve told Kunle it was high time the people got good leadership. After a long battle, Kunle threw in his lot with him. Matilda was never quite convinced, but she gave him her support at all times nonetheless.
Steve’s declaration was a joke to the ruling party. He was going nowhere, they said. However, in the course of his campaign, the massive support he received began to worry the politicians. They had expected a scratch, but not such massive impact. The name Steve Obi became a prickly thorn that could not be ignored. A defeat from him would be terribly damaging. And it was even more damaging that he was gaining grounds in the political system. He was not just the problem of his opponent, the unbeatable Senator Johnson Ike.
Steve was the problem of every member of the ruling party.

* * * * * * *
AND NOW under the mango tree, the man who had just lost the senatorial election was being thronged by his people. They hung onto every word of his, as if for dear life. As more and more people gathered, someone in the crowd shouted, “Steve na he lele!” and another answered, “Steve na waya o!”
Other voices joined and soon the song thundered from everywhere:
“Steve na he lele! Steve na waya o!
Steve na he lele! Steve na waya o!
Whether them like am o, or them no like am o!
Ewoo, Steve na he lele!”
Someone dragged out an old, abandoned table from one of the rooms and quickly converted it into a makeshift platform. Then he invited Steve to climb and address them. Steve was hesitant, but soon, the chorus changed to:
“All we are saying, talk to us now!”
Two strong men volunteered as his aides. Each held one of his arms and between them, they gently but firmly steered him to the podium. After he had climbed and faced the people, the men stood with arms akimbo, feigning the cold, expressionless faces of secret service men. The crowd worked itself virtually to frenzy as the singing and clapping came to a crescendo. Several cameras of different media houses focused expectantly on Steve.
Stilling the crowd with a raised right hand, Steve smiled and began. “My people, kwenu!”
The crowd responded, “Hey!”
“My people, kwenu!”
“Hey!”
“My people, kwezuenu-ee!”
And the people chorused, “Hee-eey, hey!”
“If a woman decides to make the soup watery, the husband will learn to dent the fufu before dipping it in the soup.”
“Our senator, speak on!” the crowd shouted.
“Our elders say a goat which dies in a barn was not killed by hunger. Such cannot be our case!” A deafening applause erupted.
When it quieted, he continued, “I know I am not the most qualified amongst you, considering the intimidating credentials of some of you here. But again our people say, akwukwo jurun’ohia ma a baa a choba okazi. So here I am. As a Nigerian, who has grown up seeing things done in the wrong way by the wrong people, seeing things get worse every day. Yet we sit back and do nothing.” He paused, before continuing.
“We must do something. All of us, this is the time we must do something”.
The crowd roared. More people joined the crowd, including security operatives.
“We have everything, yet we have nothing.” He waved his right hand. “It’s all over us.” He waved this to those at his left hand side.
“Yeeaah! Yeeaah!” the people chorused, shaking their fists.
He waved to his right. “Can’t you see it, people?”
“Eheeeeh!” they responded with even greater enthusiasm.
“Even the blind amongst us see it, and the deaf hear it.”
“We rise and fall all by ourselves, with no one to speak for us, as if we had no leaders. Every little success we achieve is drawn out of hard sweat. I am not saying that government should solve all our problems; but a complete disregard to the basic needs of the people by those in government is injustice to all of us.”
“Fela Anikulapo Kuti was right to say. ‘We are suffering and smiling.’ Today, if we wanted electricity, we would have to buy a generating set. If we wanted water, we must dig our own bore-hole. If we wanted a good school, a good hospital, a good market, good roads or any other public utility, we must build it. Why then do we have a government? What then is democracy all about?”
The crowd shouted, “Anyi a makwa o!”
“In every election, we always wanted something new, something different, just a little ray of hope. Is that too much to ask for? But what do we get? Violence, rigged elections, empty promises!”
“That’s why we voted for you!” someone shouted.
“Thank you for voting for me. I promise you, your vote shall not be in vain! We shall no more stomach their deceit, and sit down doing nothing! I am fed up, our children are fed up, and our people, you are fed up! Are you not all fed up?”
“We are fed up!” the people screamed.
A group of three men continued the chant, “We are fed up! We are fed up!”
Others around them joined in, and the entire arena erupted with the animated chant. “We are fed up! We are fed up! We are fed up!”
Steve raised his hands and stilled the people. After the singing subsided, he continued. “When a handshake extends beyond the elbow, it is no more a handshake. It has become an attack! We can’t take it anymore – the bad policies, failed leadership, corruption, the failed institutions. We are tired of the shame and disrespect before other nations of the world! Being a Nigerian is no crime, and nobody should be punished simply for being Nigerian. God did not make a mistake in making us Nigerians, so no one should make us regret our good birth!
“As a nation so endowed with human and natural resources, we deserve more. We deserve the basic things of life: food, shelter, human dignity, education, and a future we can bank on. Our nation is one of the richest in natural resources. If a nation like Singapore with little natural resources is enjoying one of the highest per capita income earnings in the world, then the good people of Nigeria cannot remain poor and downtrodden! We must have a good life! The stolen wealth of this nation is enough to give us all a good life. That good life we must have! Nigeria will be great again!”
The crowd shouted, “Yes o!”
He went on. “Yes, we can be known for better things than corruption, crime, terrorism, poverty, instability and failed leadership. We cannot afford to lose our precious hope! The Chinua Achebes, the Fela Anikulapo Kutis, the Gani Fawehinmis have protégés. We must continue from where they stopped! We will not sit down and watch our beloved Nigeria get destroyed in the hands of a cabal! It is an abomination to watch a she-goat go through the pain of delivery while tethered to a tree! I see hope in your eyes. I see better days in the eyes of every one of you.”
The crowd became ecstatic. Wave after waves of unending applause rained the air sporadically, punctuated by high-pitched screams and whistles.
“I see the spirit in us. You came out en-masse today, to give our nation a gift—a gift of your time, your sweat, your passion, and your unwavering faith in our corporate future. You left your businesses, your offices, your children, some of you on empty stomachs, and came to cast your precious votes. You stood in the sun for hours, endured security threats, and in some instances, submitted your right to personal dignity. This precious gift will not be wasted, and your sacrifice shall not be in vain!”
Again, a voice started singing, and the crowd followed.
“Steve na he lele! Steve na waya o!
Steve na he lele! Steve na waya o!
Whether them like am o, or them no like am o!
Ewoo, na him na he lele!


END OF CHAPTER ONE.

I think it should rather be UNDER the sun.

Thumps up OP
Great work

Shadow a book to read.

you are a very very talented and great writer, I love ur technique keep up the good work bro...waiting for more updates sha

freshwaters:


HarunaGalad i'm glad you love the book. It's great encouragement.

We need updates sire

2016nlder:
I am not the kind that comments to a post but I felt compelled to do so. I must say that this story is very enchanting. Is very good to start a year with an interesting story like this. Funny enough, there are very little comment to this story compared to its substance.

ghost readers tinz

Nice work bro,eagerly waiting for the next chapter. More inks to you biro.

Hi Everyone.

I have gotten some demands for more updates.

I'm going to do a few more updates, but will however want to refer us to Okada books where the book is sold at a very affordable price of N750 naira.

For those of us in Europe, U.S, Asia etc, you can as well get Shadows on Amazon.

The Links are:

Amazon: http://ow.ly/KzEyS

Okadabooks: Search for Shadows By Tony Ekwoaba (Complete Book)

I'm doing this for two reasons; one because the book is on sale and buying it would also be a way of supporting this cause.

Secondly, posting the whole book here might as well pose some copyright issues with the publishers.

I will be doing something with the first 10 persons from nairaland to buy the book on Okadabooks or Amazon and give a candid (good or bad) review of the book.

The reviews and names of those that reviewed the book will be on the subsequent printed copies of the book and the e-books.

Amazon link for Shadows: http://ow.ly/KzEyS

Also, I will like to encourage other writers here. Let's help each other.

Those who want to write but haven't started, those that have started but couldn't continue, those that have been writing but want to be better and those that have manuscripts but don't know how to go about polishing it for publishing or the right platforms to publish, let's get in here.

I'm going to give time here to these discussions.

Chapter Twenty-Seven
THEY HADN’T EVEN gotten close to Jasper Park when Kunle demanded Philip stop the car. His excuse was that Jasper Park was a place of alcohol and as a Muslim, he was forbidden from alcohol. He lied. Philip could see it in his eyes that he was lying. One would wonder the lies people tell in the name of religion. Anyway, Philip obliged and stopped the car. He made up his mind to help, and he would not turn back now. He would not blame Kunle. Only God knew what he must have gone through in the hands of those guys. He would do anything to avoid its second occurrence.

Philip parked the car miles away from his final destination and started out for the club, trekking determinedly down the streets. It was not long before he saw the entrance gate to the Park. Once he was inside, he quietly took an empty table in one of the shacks, away from the crowd of football fans watching a match. He pretended he was a regular, waiting for some lady on her way. It was early, yet the whole place was already crowded. Chelsea FC and Arsenal FC were playing and the fans were everywhere. The match commentaries roared from speakers and big TV screens hanging on the wooden pillars. The place shook from the massive noise every now and then.
When the waiter came, Philip ordered beer and requested that she call Koso. She just nodded and disappeared.
It did not take long before the waiter reappeared, and a short, tiny guy, with some baby face, was following her. If it were not for his bearded face and scrubbed shiny skull, one would think Koso was a kid. He was in his late thirties.
Philip rubbed his palms together, once he saw them coming. He was shocked to see that the little guy was the Koso. He did not look like a killer. All the same, Philip took the phone and dialed Steve’s line.
It was on a second ring when he said, “Good evening. Is this Koso?” Philip stretched out his hand for a handshake.
“Who is asking?” Koso replied, his stringent eyes, wagging suspiciously. He did not take the handshake; rather he drew out a packet of cigarettes and lit a stick.
So alas, the tiny thing was Koso, Philip thought. One should not underestimate anyone.
Koso was wearing jeans and a simple polo shirt. He had been with the crowd of fans, and no one would believe he was a member of a criminal gang that terrified Lagos. Barrow had been leader of the gang before he moved to Abuja. That explained why he used them every now and then for some jobs in Lagos. Koso was the talking type, and he could blend in anywhere. He was small and boyish, but because he was unpredictable, the other gang members feared him. Once any message to the squad came through Koso, no one would doubt it. Barrow knew this, and that was why he would use him.
“The call is for you. It’s from Code 555,” Philip said.
Koso took the phone and someone at the other end said, “Hello.” It was Barrow.
For thirty minutes, Koso clung to the phone. At first, he did not believe it was Code 555. In fact, he was going to put a bullet through the guy that gave him the phone. But once he heard the voice, he knew the person on the other end was Code 555.”
Koso smiled, revealing his dark teeth that had darkened from years of excessive smoking. The conversation changed, with Barrow taking charge. Now, he hated to do this, but he had to. He gave instructions that the search for Kunle be called off, and that Kunle’s car be taken to an address which he gave and warned that the car should not be watched. “It is all part of the deal,” he commanded.
When he was asked about his disappearance, he opted that such information was not meant for a phone conversation. Koso did not push harder. At least the boss was okay. That was all that mattered. The orders would be communicated to the others, and they would be followed.

The minute the call was over, Philip tried to bolt, but Koso invited him to follow him. He was going to spend some time with Philip while he introduced him to two other gang members, Yaz and Mafi. They would wait over a few bottles of beer while Yaz and Mafi arrived. Koso had wired them a text message to come quickly.









The Story continues...

Chapter Twenty-Eight
THAT NIGHT, at about seven o’clock, a Boeing 747, Lufthansa flight from JF Kennedy Int’l Airport NY through Heathrow London en route Nnamdi Azikiwe Airport Abuja approached its destination. Communications were made from the cockpit and soon the sexy air hostesses were announcing the arrivals.
Brian Kaplan was sitting in the business class coach, covered with the Lufthansa- crested blanket. He had been sleeping, but then the announcement had awakened him. He looked around, first at the small television screen, then the debris of chips and drinks he’d left on the fold out tray. The other passengers around were asleep.
50km to the airport, the pilot gained the landing clearance he needed from the controllers, and the plane touched the ground. It lined up for the runway, and then taxied off to parking. Brian ran off to reclaim his luggage from the rotating carousels. It did not take long before he was through with customs and immigration checks.
The tropical weather hit him at the arrival wing. It felt better than the cold he’d known in the U.S. It was his first time in Africa.
Eight months ago, if he had been told he would be in Africa, he would have bet his life against it. He was very sure about it. It was not until he got hooked up online.
Brian was a U.S. veteran who had been widowed while in service, fighting some crazy wars somewhere in Iraq. And in the process he had lost two little daughters to drugs, partly due to his absence. Bad parenting it was called, goddamn it! He was serving his fatherland. So since he retired, he had been lonely. Loneliness was going to destroy whatever was left of him when he stumbled upon social media.
Soon he was surfing the Internet looking for companionship. First, it was Hi5.Then he discovered Myspace and Facebook. He registered a profile on all of them. He hoped to get a local love, as he’d lost his ability to woo women. But the local love was not forthcoming; those making advances were distances away. The world was rounded up in a single mix; it had never been this small. He had women from Europe, Asia, all oldies like himself. He liked the fact that they kept him busy, but he was not sure he was looking for oldies. The truth was that Brian didn’t really know what he wanted.

Brian didn’t know what he wanted, until he got a friend request from some young beautiful African girl. He ran through her profile. She was single, nineteen, Nigerian, and in the university studying sociology. He accepted the friend request.
It seemed the acceptance gave him a clue to what he wanted. He suddenly, wanted love, real love, the type the African girl could give him. And he had just found her, even though he was not sure yet she would accept to be in a relationship with him. It was not easy finding a young girl who would date a sixty-year-old man, unless he was a billionaire with billions of dollars buried somewhere, or he was some dumb ass celebrity, and he was not any of those.
Brian sent the girl a love message, and she replied with even a lovelier one. It was a miracle, he thought. Maggie hadn’t just replied to his message; she swallowed up his love life. Now, his day began with him speaking with her. They talked to each other often, in fact, everyday. They had pictures exchanged every now and then. He had sent her all kinds of pictures, including those he took in Iraq. He even sent her his nude pictures, but when he requested her nude pictures, she had been angry, and asked if she was not his for keep. He agreed he would get to see everything when they met face to face. Since then he imagined, how she looked with no clothes on her. He thought of when he would kiss her and hold her close to himself. These thoughts tormented him.
Brian got tormented enough; he sent Maggie money to fly to the U.S. She had said she didn’t have a Nigerian passport. He had sent money for that, too. So many other things he sent money for, he could not really remember all of them. When he began to prepare to receive her in the U.S., she emailed that the embassy rejected her visa. He was devastated.
Brian decided to visit. He would spend some time in Nigeria, and probably marry her and have her fly with him back to the U.S. He had wanted to inform her he was coming, but she had said she was preparing for her exams. He wouldn’t tell her, he thought. It was perfect timing. He would stun her.
The moment Brian stepped out of the Nnamdi Azikiwe International Airport terminal, he was fascinated with the beautiful breeze of the African night. It was beautiful, just like the damsel he was coming to meet. There were men carrying placards with names, and company logos, everywhere at the arrival wing of the airport. He hadn’t expected anyone to wait for him, so he moved on.
Brian had done a little research before embarking on the trip, a few of which was getting himself a credible taxi firm and finding some good hotels. And just as he looked up ahead, he saw someone with a name plate bearing the name of the taxi firm he had seen online.
“Taxi?” the man asked, as he saw Brian looking his direction.
“City cab?” Brian asked, just to be sure.
“Yes,” the man replied.
“Take me to Sheraton Hotel.”




kindly drop your comments.


The Story Continues...


Shadows by Tony Ekwoaba (Complete Book) is available on www.okadabooks.com and www.amazon.com

[quote][/quote]love this thread, educative and entertaining. keep it up.

Com'on man. This story is a bomb man. Wish this could be made into a movie. Its gonna be a thriller.

Hello freshwaters, How are you? This is a nice work. I need to discuss online publishing with you. If you're interested, kindly contact me via larrysun4real@yahoo.com.

Bless you.

LarrySun:
Hello freshwaters, How are you? This is a nice work. I need to discuss online publishing with you. If you're interested, kindly contact me via larrysun4real@yahoo.com.

Bless you.

Thanks LarrySun. The book is published and online. It was published in the U.S and available on Okada books, and Amazon. And at affordable prices too. It's 750 naira on Okadabooks and $2.9 on amazon. To get the copy, you just have to search SHADOWS By Tony Ekwoaba, on amazon or Okadabooks. Thank you for your interest in the book, I appreciate that.

Nad95:
Com'on man. This story is a bomb man. Wish this could be made into a movie. Its gonna be a thriller.

Yes Nad95. The book will make a great movie. I haven't got the right partners to work on that yet.

freshwaters:


Yes Nad95. The book will make a great movie. I haven't got the right partners to work on that yet.

You got Me ......If you want a movie outa this masterpiece

.....08114800429, 07084158345. #DIRECTOR/PRODUCER WHATAPP 07069490246

I love this work. Real story of what happens in the Nigeria political and academic settings.

such a wonderful storyline and splendid book. I will go get mine with immediate effect. Shadows here I come.

* * * * * * *
IT WAS WAY OVER 10p.m., by the time Philip finished at Jasper Park. He would have left the place earlier, had Koso not insisted he wait for Yaz and Mafi. It was an awful time. He’d tried to avoid any conversation with Koso, but it was not possible to do that with Koso. He wasn’t the type that spent a minute without talking, especially at times when he was fishing for something.
When Philip could not stay out of the talks, he decided to play along. He just avoided questions he thought could implicate him. He wouldn’t make himself a target after he left the place. He kept doing this until Yaz and Mafi finally arrived.

Yaz and Mafi were each nearly seven feet tall. Mafi was wearing sagging jeans and a military camouflage singlet that showcased a crazy tattoo on his shoulder. Yaz wore combat chinos and a heavy gangster polo top. They both had a cigarette stuck in their mouths. Philip remembered immediately; he had seen them before. They were the guys that held Kunle. It would have been crazy had Kunle come into the place with him.

As soon as Yaz and Mafi got there, Koso waylaid them to talk to them in private. They soon reappeared, with their attention fully on Philip. They were going to scare the hell out of Philip, but it seemed he knew their scheme early enough and comported himself. Mafi dropped the butt of the cigarette and took some wrapped cannabis from his pocket. The wrap loosened, he twisted it so it would not spill, and then he stuck it in his mouth. Koso held out a lighter and lit it for him. Once it was blazing, he sucked and puffed the smoke.
“So you had contact with Code 555?”Mafi asked, like he would never believe that.
“Yes, I’m sure Koso told you that?” Philip said as casually as he could.
“Where is code 555?” Yaz fired back, as he helped himself to his own wrap of cannabis.
“He would tell you that himself. It’s not my call to tell you that.”
“You are sure you wouldn’t tell us? You understand the implications when you refuse to tell us, right?” Mafi asked as he blew a ring of smoke into the air.
“What implication? Whatever, that’s not my duty,” Philip replied. It was becoming tougher than he thought, “Take it or leave it. You understand this game except you want to go against the orders from code 555.” Philip stated.
It worked. They were not going to counter the orders of code 555, and once they were reminded of the dangers involved with that, they sheathed their swords. Koso, who had been sitting quietly on one of the bamboo chairs, watched all the while, felt it was time he spoke.
“Okay, I think we understand each other,” he said, with a smile, over the darkened teeth.
“I thought so, too,” Philip said. He sounded as tough as he could, but he knew he was dying inside. He might just throw up before he had the opportunity to run. These giant criminals were before him and he was acting like some toughie. He had not talked tough, anything close to this before. He could have his head blown off any minute. He imagined who this Code 555 could be; who the hell was this guy that even these toughies trembled at the mention of his name?

Yaz and Mafi could not get anything out of Philip, other than the fact he was from code 555. They let him know he was free to go. They would do as code 555 had instructed.
Philip made for the exit in a nonchalant manner, but he craved so much to run. Before he turned to run, Mafi said, “Hey, what’s your name?”
That would have been the bombshell, but he knew somehow, they would be asking this question.
“Jack." He did not look back.
“Okay then, Jack we hope the next time we meet, it would still be on a positive note?” Yaz asked with a sardonic smile.
Philip said, “Yes,” and ran out. Thank God he hadn’t fainted while in the Park.
Kunle was snoring, when Philip huffed and puffed up to the car. He did not bother to wake him; he just searched for the car key in his pocket, found it, started the car and drove off.






The story continues...get Shadows on Amazon, Okadabooks.