₦airaland Forum

emmiesmart44:
Nice one Mr Larry. Hope you are here to stay

I'm going nowhere, sir.

Nickymezor:
Thanks for the wonderful update Larry..Hapi new month as well... Glad Black's eyes re nw opened...Mehn ! Rhoda is really Evil

My old sweetheart. How are you, ma'am?

maxlev1:
Badoo!!! All hail the man of the moment, King Larrysun.
Hip hip hip..... hurray
hip hip hip.....hurrayyyy
hip hip hip.....hurrrrraaaaaaayyyyy.
Welcome back brother, we are happy to read from you again.
Hope you don't leave us anytime soon. Thumbs up

Thank you, sir. I'm trying my best to keep up.

emmiesmart44:
Mr Larry, well done. You are a good writer.

But I must register my displeasure
Black Maria has according to you not gone far presumably not up to half but has cut through 3 years.
Please you can take a brief hiatus to write this story completely if you haven't.

I wouldn't mind having to pay to read this story completely and am sure some others would agree.

I'm so sorry. I sincerely apologise. Trying to keep myself from starving to death is what is causing the delay.

COMPLETE BOOK NOW AVAILABLE FOR DOWNLOAD HERE:

http://okadabooks.com/book/about/black_maria_book_one/20094

larrysundynasty@gmail.com

boomssey:
honestly you don't know how happy i am to hear from you.i need to speak to you.

Kindly send me your mail. Thanks dearie.

“I was relaxing at home when I received a call from Christopher. He had been shot twice. He said he was okay but I knew he wasn’t. You don’t feel okay on sustaining two gunshot wounds. I wanted to go and help him out but he refused to devulge his location. All he said was that he was going home. He told me to vacate the house immediately because the others were coming for me too. The last words I heard him speak were ‘It was such an adventure’ – that was it; I didn’t hear anything from him again. I tried calling him many times but the call never went through. I didn’t know what had become of my friend. I decided to follow his warning and fled the house. For two months, I stopped being Lucas. I changed my identity totally. I went off the grid. I cut loose my ties with anyone who knew me. I became a different person entirely. That was what Christopher would be if he was still alive. But I refused to believe my friend was dead; Christopher was not an easy kill. Then I suddenly recalled that he had told me he was going home. I decided to seek out my friend after three months of his disappearance.



“He had told me he had a family in the eastern part of the country. I decided to seek him out there. Perhaps that was the home he was talking about. The journey to the East took me two days by road. His family home was hard to find but I eventually located it. The house was an aold building with the paints already peeling. I knocked on the door and was greeted by an old couple. They were nice people; they welcomed me like an old relation and offered me cold water. I thought they were Christopher’s parents until I asked them about their son. They smiled at me and said they had never had children. They were a model couple. They grew old together without children. How many couples could be like them? I initially didn’t believe them. I thought they were trying to hide Christopher from me but they seemed honest about their conviction. They didn’t know anyone named Christopher. Then the wife suggested that maybe I was talking about the family that had live in the house before them. I begged them to tell me about this family. What I heard shocked me.



“Thirteen years ago, armed men had attacked the family and killed everyone. Rumours had it that they had actually come to eliminate the oldest child of the family but they didn’t find him. The family membered were tortured and questioned to tell them the child’s whereabouts; his younger sister was raped and the younger brother beaten senseless. When none of the members could give them any information about the location of whom they sought, the men killed them all. I couldn’t control the tears that ran down my cheeks as I listened to the news. My friend had lost his family. If he had really come to seek his family out, then the news must have broken him. I was about to leave when the old couple told me that someone had come before me to ask about this family. They said the young man had wept much more than I did, and he looked wounded. They swore they noticed blood on him. He was trying to hide it but the blood still seeped out. So Christopher was alive after all. The sadness in me mixed with the joy of the news I had suddenly heard, and the combination of these feelings left a strange sensation in me. I implored the couple to tell me where he went but they refused to divulge his location. They said they could not because Christopher had told them some people were after his life. Even these old people were loyal to Christopher, a total stranger to them. Then something happened.



“As I was still pleading with the couple to tell me where my friend, two men suddenly broke into the house with cutlasses drawn. I didn’t know who they were, and i was sure they didn’t follow me from Lagos. By the local way they were dressed, I could tell that they were thugs from the neighbourhood. They must have been watching the house to see if any stranger would visit the couple. They didn’t even acknowledge my presence as one of them tried to hack the old man down with his cutlass. In a second, I drew out my gun and blew his brains out. The old man was baptized in the killer’s blood. The other one that tried to kill the woman got his own in the spine. He fell down lifeless immediately. The couple didn’t even scream; they must have witnessed worse in their lifetimes; but they were visibly shaken. I had to make them some tea to calm their nerves. I didn’t know who those men were but their mission was to kill the couple first. The old people knew them; they were among the street nuisances that always terrorised the locality. I told them they were not safe there. Others might come. I assisted them in packing the few things they could and saw them to the bus that would transport them far away from that area. I bid them farewell and wished them luck, the bus was already moving when the woman put her head out of the window and gave me a new address in another village. And her husband had also poked his head out and said that was my friend’s mother’s hometown where it all began before the buses faded into the horizon. And so my second journey began in earnest. I just had to see Christopher.

Wow! My Boom! You're the first person I followed on NL. It's so, so nice to hear from you.

boomssey:
Hey Larry,where have you been all these times.it's been ages you know.hmmm....anyway nice write up as usual.

“That’s not enough!” Emeka said emphatically.

“What else do you want, young man?” Lucas said exasperatedly.

“If you don’t tell me what happened, I will not take your money and I will never forgive you.”

Lucas hit the steering wheel in frustration. He looked at Emeka angrily in the dark, wondering whether to blow the idiot’s brain out and get it over with; but he was already liking the rugged guy. “Okay, fine. I’ll tell you everything.”

“Yes!” Emeka wriggled happily, much to the chagrin of the piqued driver. “I’m all ears, no pun intended, please.”

Lucas sighed and began: “Christopher was my saviour. He was my messiah. If not for him, I would already be dead, because I was the mark of a dangerous gang named The Mantis.”

“The Mantis?”

“Yes, do you know it?”

“Who doesn’t know The Mantis Gang? They slaughter people in dozens and pray over their corpses.”

“Well, I was marked to be killed by The Mantis Gang.”

“Why? What did you do wrong?”

“What I did was terrible. I truly deserved to be killed, but not by The Mantis. As a matter of fact, TMG ought to honour me with medals, not bullets; but I was marked to be eliminated. You see, I was a Mantis myself; my job was to penetrate a rival gang called KK, this stands for Kabba-Kabba, whatever that means. For two years, I was feeding the secrets of KK to TMG. Spying is a risky but an exciting avocation. The secrets I was feeding TMG caused the gang to have an upper hand over KK. The Mantis were killing the Kabba-Kabba in multitude, and Christopher was a Kabba. He was the one who suspected the presence of a spy among them. Christopher was a powerful member of the gang;almost everyone feared him, because he could hide his identity and blend among enemies. I had to run to TMG to seek refuge, for I knew that I would be killed if I was discovered to be the spy among them. When I returned to TMG and narrated my ordeal, the leader of the gang, Mandela, ordered my execution.”

“What! Why?”

“According to him, it would be to the detriment of the gang if I was eventually captured by the rival gang and tortured into revealing the secrets of Mantis. He couldn’t allow that; and so the only way to ensure the safety of the gang was to have me taken out. Another Mantist could easily be sent to penetrate KK. So there, I had to run from my home gang too. But Mandela kept sending killers after me. There were so many times I’ve tried to kill Mandela himself, but I’m no match for him. He has killed people tougher than I am without breaking a sweat. He’s just too fast. No one touches him. Touch him and you die. I ran from his killers and killed some of them. Mantists came after me, KK came after me. I was getting tired of it all. I knew it was only a matter of time before either of the two gangs catch up with me and hack me to pieces. I resigned my fate; a soldier does not die twice. What will be should be. I couldn’t run forever.

“Finally, the day of reckoning came. I couldn’t run anymore when five Mantists cornered me. I gave up my fight and surrendered. I knew they were not there to take me in, they were there to take me out. I knelt down before them and shut my eyes, waiting for the one bullet that would penetrate my skull and end it all. The bullet came but it was not for me. I opened my eyes and beheld something strange. One of the five Mantists was shooting at the other four. The killer’s face was shrouded. After killing them all, he removed his shroud and there, right there, was Christopher.

“This wasn’t something I was expecting would happen. I couldn’t wrap my befuddled brain around the realisation that Christopher was a Mantist. Then it suddenly dawned on me that Christopher was just like me. He was a KK spying on TMG. With this revelation, it was easy for me to understand why he had saved me. He knew what might happen to him too if his cover was blown; he might suffer the same fate as me if TMG, too, suspected a spy among them. He might also be hunted by both gangs.

“Before long, Christopher and I became good friends; it was the two of us against the whole TMG and KK. We fought, ran and bled together. We became the most wanted among the community of killers. Christopher was a great shooter; ‘Never let any bullet to go to waste,’ he would always say. He also believed in equality and fairness. He would rather die than cheat a friend. We shared everything equally. It was Christopher who taught me the art of disguise. On so many occasions, Christopher had turned himself into a total stranger. There was a day I nearly shot him, I thought he was an enemy. He was able to kill a lot of TMG and KK members with this gift of his. And soon, I was getting good with disguises like him. However, no matter what disguise I pulled, Christopher was always recognising me. Christopher was just too much; he was always many moves ahead of me. He’s also a great chess player, except for his lack of sense of humour. Christopher had no sense of humour whatsoever. Even though he always saw beyond my disguises, I was always walking freely among enemies without the fear of discovery. Christopher and I were formidable. We shared secrets of the two gangs. I told him everything about my past and he did the same about himself. We became like mirror-images. Our friendship grew deeper and stronger. Then one afternoon, tragedy reared its ugly head.

​******************************************************************************
He was relieved to find Emeka still alive. Indeed, the foolish one had not been killed.

“You just killed the man!” Emeka carried a horrified expression, “You killed – you killed your father!”

“That man was not my father,” said Lucas.

“What!”

“How come you are still alive?” Lucas could not help asking.

Emeka grinned stupidly, “I didn’t see anyone.”

“That’s strange, because I can swear I heard the sound of gunshots.”

“That was me shooting randomly to scare away potential shooters who might be after my life. And I think it worked; but I think I’ve used all the bullets in my gun, for nothing comes out again each time I pull the trigger.”

“You talk too much. Shut up and let’s go.”

They both returned to the car and drove away from the abandoned industrial location, Lucas sat behind the wheel while Emeka sat beside him. The bags of money were deposited on the backseat.

“You used me!” Emeka suddenly bellowed, “You used me to carry out your evil machination. I feel raped!”

“I did it for a friend,” was the reply Lucas gave him.

Emeka looked confused. “A friend? Which friend?”

“Christopher.”

Emeka’s jaw almost dropped. “You’re not Christopher?”

“I’m not.”

“Who is Christopher, really?”

“Christopher was my friend.”

“Was?”

“He’s dead.”

“What killed him? No, scratch that. Tell me everything from the beginning.”

The clock on the dashboard read 08:03PM.

Lucas turned to the passenger and asked, “What makes you think I would tell you?”

“Because you know I deserve to know. You pulled me into this mess. The least you can do is tell me everything.”

“The bags of money behind us belong to you. They are compensation for everything I made you go through.”

“Wow! That sum of money is mine?”

“Yes, everything.”

Emeka grinned, “This is good business. When are you going to kidnap me again?”

“I’ll drop you back at Shoprite. You’ll take the money and disappear.”

Opeoluwa99:
Uncle Larrysun you are unique for your crime stories
I love them kpa

Please continue this story please

Thank you, ma'am.

kababs:
Good evening, bro

Hope you're having a great day? My name is Yinka. I like your story.

Will you like to write for me and earn money? If you're interested, contact me @ signature.

I'm sincerely looking forward to hearing from you.

Thanks

Thank you, sir. I've sent a message to you via WhatsApp.

******************************************************************************

“How – how did you do it?”

“Do what?”

Emeka didn’t know where to start from; instead, he said, “How did you do everything? I could never believe you were that Christopher they were hunting.”

“You know nothing about what you are talking about.”

“You did all these to save your captured father; this I know at least.”

“Like I said, you are saying rubbish. Keep your mouth shut and stay behind me.”

They crept stealthily towards the entrance of the warehouse. The door of the warehouse was slightly ajar. Emeka caught someone armed appear from the corner of his left eye, he turned sharply, pointed the gun in his hand towards the approaching figure and pulled the trigger. The bullet caught the enemy in the nose, blowing his face open. The sound of the gunshot was muffled.

Lucas was startled. “Where did you get the gun?”

Emeka smiled proudly and said, “I took it from one of the men you killed. I thought I should keep myself busy too and help out my friend.”

“Let’s get something straight. I am not your friend, okay? And if you get killed tonight, it’s totally your fault. I’m not responsible for you. I have given you the freedom to leave peacefully. This situation is none of your business.”

“I won’t get killed,” Emeka replied, smiling widely. His confidence annoyed his partner but there was nothing he could do about it. This was the idiot’s choice.

Emeka offered to stay out and keep watch as soon as they reached the entrance of the warehouse. Lucas stared at him and shrugged as he went in – his funeral.

He boldly walked into the warehouse. He saw an elderly right at the other end of the structure. The man wasn’t being held a hostage as the abductors had said; he thought as much. And with this discovery, he knew that nothing would be done to him now. At least not until the old man discovered who he was. He knew how important his presence was – or how important they thought his presence was. There were two armed men flanking the old man; they evidently worked for the man. He knew who the old man was, but he doubted if the man knew who he was. He walked further and saw two other operatives with guns drawn. There were a total of four bodyguards in the warehouse. He wondered how many more were outside trying to blow the amateurish Emeka’s brain out. In fact, Emeka might be dead by now, for he was hearing series of gunshots it would be such a waste if he lost his life right at this final destination. Anyway, he shrugged, Emeka might just be a collateral damage.

“We finally meet, Christopher,” the elderly man greeted, smiling warmly.

He didn’t give the old man a glance as he shot the two guards on either side. He walked bravely towards the remaining two men. He knew they would not shoot him. He was very important; his death wasn’t in their hands. They aimed their guns but unable to pull the trigger. He shot them both in the faces.

“Christopher, what– ” his words hanged in his throat at what he saw.

He walked to the old man and aimed the gun at his forehead.

“This is for Christopher,” he said as he pulled the trigger.

As he stepped over the corpse of the man and picked the four bags of money at a corner, he recalled how the man had looked before he pulled the trigger.

It was a look of horrendous revelation as the man gazed past him to the entrance – that he was not his son.

He was not Christopher.

******************************************************************************

marvwhite:
(#speechless)....
.

Larry you are the BOMB.
If Wole Soyinka is to see the piece,he would asked himself "HOW DID LARRYSUN DID IT?"


If Chinua Achebe read this in his early age before venturing into writting books,he would have said "I WANT TO BE LIKE LARRYSUN WHEN I GROW UP"


as for me,"HOW CAN SOMEONE WRITE GOOD STORIES LIKE THIS?"



Am simply saying,you did a great job sir

Awwwww! Thank you, sir. This means a lot.

******************************************************************************
They walked to the expressroad and relieved an innocent driver of his car by gun threats. As the four men boarded the new car and drove off, Lucas returned the gun he had taken from one of the abductors, including the phone he had relieved of Emeka. The men in turn offered Lucas back his phone but he told them to keep it.

It was about half past six when they reached the destination. They all disembarked from the car. Emeka – whose hands were still tied behind him – was pushed forward. The location was an old warehouse in a place that seemed like an abandoned industry. There were series of big machines around, but it was doubtful that any one of them was functioning.

“The warehouse is where your father is waiting for you,” one of the abductors informed Emeka.

“What do you guys want from me?” The hostage asked, sounding frightened.

The second abductor smirked and replied, “You shall soon know.”

“Why don’t we call Rough-88 and tell him we are at the location so that he can come and receive us?” suggested the first of the two abductors.

“That’s a good idea,” Lucas agreed.

“The second man picked his phone and placed the call. The phone in the other man’s pocket began to vibrate.

“It’s ringing,” said the caller.

The other man was puzzled. He extracted the phone from his pocket. The vibrating phone was the one they had taken from Lucas. He slowly pressed the green button and placed it against his ear.

“Hello, Rough,”he heard his partner’s voice on the phone. It immediately dawned on him that Rough-88’s phone had been with Lucas. He turned around to see Lucas aiming a pistol with a silencer to his head. The other man was still having his back to them, unaware of what was going on behind him; he was still busy with the ‘hello Rough’ mantra. Emeka stood at a corner and watched everything going on.

“Where is Rough?” The abductor at the wrong end of a pistol asked. The phone was still placed against his ear as he spoke.

“Dead,” Lucas replied and shot the man point-blank on the forehead.

The other man involuntarily turned around, and before he could react, Lucas shot him twice in the chest.

Emeka watched all these with horror written on his face. The man who had disguised as an old man, the man who had said he was the odd variable, the man who had called himself Lucas – was not who he said he was.

In his open-eyed mien, Emeka could utter just three words; the three words that confirmed a shocking discovery:

“You are Christopher!”

****************************************************

CecyAdrian:
Stop saying you are sorry then go back to do the same exact thing you apologized for. Your unprofessional attitude just irks. If you want to do something, do it! Don't tell us pls!

Nobody forced you to start this story and nobody asked us to read us, but we found it interesting and got captivated by the story line. You are not doing a favour for us by updating, rather we the ones who found your story intriguing all the ones doing you a favour by reading.

It's just so annoying, and you had to update with that empty and baseless thing up there.

You call yourself a writer but you don't know the No. Basic rule about writing, never take your readers for granted or let the praises get to your head. Check the following on this story from 5 months ago till now and then check when you started it newly with consistency. When readers loss interest in a story, no matter how good the story gets, it leaves a sour taste in their mouth.

Just tell us you want to turn this story to all those 'Nollywood' seasonal films.

Just don't provoke someone again with this story. If u want to end it, you do so now...and Blackie is yet to grow sef.

#rantover

NB: No one should just quote me about how ungrateful I am and get me annoyed the more.

Wow!

Thanks.

*********************************************************************

It was hours before Emeka awoke. Dusk was already making its identity known. The young man was the first to wake up. The unconscious elderly man beside him was bleeding at the temple; the side of his left eye was split open. The front of the car was a total write-off; it was grotesquely shattered, pinning the driver and what remained of his head to the seat. He was dead, no doubt, for a long steel had penetrated his stomach and spilled out some of his guts to the side of the driver’s seat, towards the passenger’s. The scenery was bloody and disgusting.

Emeka tried the door on his side, it was unlocked. He smiled. The other kidnapper were sprawled on their seats as if they were dead but Emeka knew they weren’t. He stepped out of the car and began to run. He stopped when he realised that no one was chasing him. He thought about the elderly man. He had to do something. Besides, if not for anything else, he had to go back and retrieve his phone that was taken from him. The men might later use that phone against him if he didn’t take it.

After taking the phone, he returned to the back seat and loosened the rope used to tie the man’s hands behind him. Then he gently tapped the man in the arm. The elderly captive came awake groggily. It took him a moment before he was conscious of his surroundings.

“What happened?”

“We were in an accident,” Emeka replied.

“It’s getting dark,” observed the man.

“Yes,” Emeka replied as he helped the elderly one out of the car. “We have to leave quickly before the men wake up.”

“Thank you, my child.”

“Can you run?”

“I can’t dance, but I think I can run.”

“Okay, let’s go.”

“Wait, I have to take my phone from these workers of iniquity.”

“Please be fast about it, we have no time to waste!”

The elderly man gently walked to the unconscious men and picked something from the floor of the middle seat where the men laid. By the time he returned, he was aiming a pistol at Emeka.

“What are you doing?” Emeka asked, looking astonished and scared.

“Go down on your knees,” the elderly man ordered. Emeka could see that the man meant business. His order must be obeyed or there would be consequences.

“Please don’t do this–”

A shot rang out and a bullet lifted dusts right beside Emeka’s feet.

“The next shot will go into your skull if you disobey me again. Turn around and go down on your knees.”

By this time, the gunshot had awoken the unconscious abductors. They rushed out and beheld the drama going on. They were too dazed to interfere, all they could do was watch in open-mouthed beffudlement.

Emeka turned around and did as he was told. His phone was taken from him; and then, again, his hands were tied behind him with a rope.

Emeka turned around and faced the three men. Then to everyone’s surprise, the elderly man removed the false moustache and the wig on his head. He was not elderly after all; he was a young man like the rest of them. He boldly walked towards the confused abductors and shook their hands.

“My name is Lucas. I am undercover operative for the corporation that employed you to take Christopher in.”

“An undercover operative?”

“Yes, I am the agent Rough-88 told you was watching Christopher. Knowing how clever Christopher can be, R-88 ordered me to stand in as the odd variable. I had to disguise as a helpless old man to avoid him from suspecting me; and I had to be taken alongside him too so that I could be there to foil his plan if he succeeded in outwitting you guys. I don’t want to believe the accident was a coincidence; even if it was, you guys have greatly underestimated the cunningness of Christopher. You should both consider yourselves lucky that I am here or he would have escaped. Do you have any idea what would be done to you if it was discovered that the hostage escaped from your custody?”

Both men were short of words, they did not know whether to apologise to the man or thank him. But the man wasn’t waiting for their apologies or appreciation,; he walked to Emeka and pushed him forward. He turned to the other men and said:

“Lead the way,” his words were authoritative.

****************************************************

Read the complete story from my blog link below:

www.larrysunwrites.

I'm sincerely sorry for the late updates. This is my longest running story ever. I think it's time I put myself on my toes.

I've decided to place a timetable for my updates. The timetable would be coming up tomorrow by God's grace. With this timetable, you would know when the next update would be coming up, and so you would not have to wait endlessly.

Once again, I'm sorry; and thank you for not giving up on Black Maria . There are still many adventures ahead. We're still merely on the introduction.

Cheers,

Larry Sun

COMPLETE BOOK NOW AVAILABLE FOR DOWNLOAD HERE:

http://okadabooks.com/book/about/black_maria_book_one/20094

larrysundynasty@gmail.com

Divepen1:
Time to unfriend someone

Hehehe!

I'm going nowhere. My friendship with you is here to stay...forever!

queenitee:
Well,third seat isn't bad either...Ayam here

Not bad at all. You're highly welcome, ma'am.

Kusibe77:
my spot stolen, settled for less

You deserve a VIP spot. You're a very important reader.

SFSNIPER:
And you are using my name. Op if I catch you. Christopher is a nice guy.
Please mention my moniker as you post.
NB: I'm a good and non violent Christopher.

Wow! That's so nice. I hope you are good with disguises too.

Frenzy007:
larrysun i am beggin u to plzzzzzzz update black maria

I will. I promise.

*********************************************************************

They arrived at Shoprite about another hour later; luckily for them, the Lagos traffic was at the barest minimum at this time. The men placed a call and informed their instructor that they were at the location.

“Good,” said the voice from the other end, “You arrived right on time. In about ten minutes, Christopher and an elderly man will come out. Christopher is the bearded one dressed in a blue pair of jeans, a customised T-shirt bearing a picture of Mr Incredible. His hair is tainted brown and he’s wearing dark glasses.”

“What about the old man? How is he dressed?”

“He’s dressed casually in a simple shirt and a pair of trousers. Don’t concern yourselves with the elderly man; your job is more concerned with Christopher. You have to know that Christopher is reputed to be a great deceiver. He’s a master of disguise. Grab him immediately and make sure you disarm him if he has a weapon; and like I already said, be very careful around him. Don’t you believe anything that comes out of his mouth. Remember, his birth name is also Emeka, don’t be deceived. Bring him to the address given to you as soon as you have him.”

“What should we do about the elderly man?”

“The odd variable,” observed the instructor from the other end, “I should tell you to leave and not bother yourselves about him because our major goal is to apprehend Christopher, but we don’t know who he is to Christopher or what he knows. Take him but don’t hurt him. Bring both of them in; we’ll question the elderly man to know what he knows. Good luck to you. Call me only when you get to the destination.” The call was cancelled.

The men waited for another ten minutes before they spotted the targets as they came out of the big gate. Two of the waiting men came out of the Hilux, drew out their pistols and walked casually towards the approaching men. No one paid them any attention because they had expertly concealed the guns within them, for they well aware of the chaos the knowledge of their pistols might cause, and that might lead to the escape of the target once again. This was a mission they could not afford to get foiled due to their own crass stupidity, or carelessness. The capture of Christopher was more important than their own lives. Now that the location of this very elusive man had been offered them on a platter of gold, all they had to do was take him to the location alive and they would become very rich. A huge sum of money was waiting for them at the delivery site.

The armed men casually walked past their targets on either sides and still casually turned, following them behind.

The elderly man and his partner froze as the men jammed their guns against their backs.

“See that black car there?” the man behind the major target said, speaking loud enough for the hearing of elderly man with a white moustache and a mountain of greying hair. “Nod your heads if you see the car I’m talking about.”

The hostages nodded.

“Good,” said the one behind the elderly man, “You’ll both walk towards the car. If any one of you tries to walk away, you shall be shot in the spine. Just walk obediently to the car and you will be okay.”

They were easily escorted into the waiting car. The door was closed and the man behind the wheel started the engine; a dumb thing for a professional kidnapper to do. He should have kept the engine running. The hostages were relieved of their mobile phones and tied up with ropes as soon as they were taken inside.

“Hello Christopher,” the driver greeted, staring at the hostage through the rear-view mirror. He was looking at the hostage as if he had seen a live idol.

“What do you want from me? The tinted-hair asked nervously.

“Who are you people? Why did you take me? Where are you taking me? What did I do wrong?” The man asked.

“Shut up, old man!” one of the men thundered, aiming his gun forward.

“Why don’t we call Rough-88 and inform him that we have them?”

The elderly man put his hands in his pockets, watching the drama.

“Didn’t you hear him when he said we should call him only when we get to the destination?” The other abductor replied.

“We can just let him know we are on the way.”

“Knock yourself out,” replied the partner as he threw the phone to him.

The man collected the phone and dialled Rough-88’s number. It was picked almost immediately

“We have them,” he said, “We’re on our way,” The call was terminated.

“Who are you people?” The elderly man asked, detaching his hands from his pocket, “Where are you taking us?”

“Say one more word, old man, and I will beat the living daylight out of you.”

“Who is Christopher?” The younger hostage suddenly asked.

The abductors stared at him for a moment and suddenly burst into laughter.

“Good one,” said the driver, “We’ve already been told that you would play smart, Christopher. It’s normal for you to pull the denial trick.”

“Wait,” said the hostage, “you must have had me confused with someone else. I don’t know any Christopher.”

“Yeah right,” another abductor said in a bored disposition, “Who is the old man, Christopher?”

“I don’t know him,” said the elderly man, “We only met at the mall. See, I don’t want to be a part of whatever you guys have against each other. Just let me go, I beg of you. I am an old man with grandchildren.”

“How did you two meet?”

“He’s a good Samaritan,” said the old man, “I can’t believe you boys are accusing him of being someone else. Anyway, that is none of my business. All I know is that this young man held me when I lost my footing at the staircase. I would probably have fallen and broken my neck if he hadn’t come to my rescue.”

“I don’t believe you. The way you were both discussing shows that you have known each other for long.”

“The man wasn’t lying,” the younger hostage replied, “I only met him today.”

“What were both of you discussing before we grabbed you?”

“He was thanking me for rescuing him at the staircase.”

“No one told us Christopher could be kind-hearted,” one of the men joked and the others laughed.

“I already told you my name is not Christopher. You must have had me confused with another person.”

“Okay, let us assume – for a moment – that you are not the Christopher we were searching for, what’s your name?”

“My name is Emeka.”

The men glanced at each other and smiled knowingly.

“All right, Emeka, what were you doing in Shoprite?”

“The same thing others were doing – having a nice time.”

“Weren’t you supposed to be shopping in Shoprite? We can’t seem to find your shopping bag. The same thing goes for you, grandpa.”

“Like I said, I went there to have a nice time. I don’t go there to shop.”

“What ‘nice time’ exactly did you have?”

“I wined and dined.”

“What do you do for a living, Emeka?”

“I am a musician.”

“What kind of music?”

“Hip-hop. I’m actually a rapper.”

“Do you have a stage name?”

“Yes.”

“What’s it?”

“Emeka.”

“You’re trying to be funny, aren’t you?”

“I’m rapper, not a comedian. You asked me a question and I answered.”

“None. I’ve released just two singles.”
The abductor turned to his mates and asked, “Has either one of you heard any song sung by an artiste called Emeka?”

“Nope,” they answered, smiling, pretending to play along. They evidently didn’t believe any word the young man was saying.

“Why is it that none of us in this car has heard your song before?”

“That’s because I’m an upcoming rapper. Someday, I will be as famous as rapper M.I.”

The interrogator shook his head, “You are so full of lies, Christopher.”

“I’m telling you, my name is not Christopher. My name is Emeka.”

“Where are your parents, Emeka?”

The young man stared at the abductor whose gun was posed directly at his chest. The abductor’s eyes were cold, as if he was ready to pull the trigger at any slight misjudgement by the young hostage.

“Where are your parents?” the question came again.

“My parents are dead,” Emeka replied grimly.

The man stared at him for a moment before he grinned widely. “You are not a great liar after all.”

“What do you mean?”

“We are taking you to your father.”

The driver turned to face them and said, “We are about ten minutes away from our destination.”

Then a truck suddenly appeared before them.

“Look out!” The passengers screamed as the approaching truck gave a loud horn.

In a split-second, the driver turned the steering wheel sharply, swerving the car off the tarred road to the sideway. The car lost control and smashed hard into a giant pole.

The last thing Emeka saw before he lost consciousness was the blood that covered the shattered windscreen.

*****************************************************

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Well, I've learned to read terrible comments made by people who may not know what they are saying, smile at their ignorance, and move on. I have nothing to prove to anyone. I just do my thing. Everyone is entitled to his opinion, no matter how preposterous.

I should have insulted the guy, but he's not my friend. I insult only my friends.

Not cool. Not cool at all.