Hey guys, sorry for disappearing without a word. My schedule has been really tight since school resumed, and I've got quite a lot on my hands. If I foresaw the semester turning out like this, I wouldn't have promised a consistent one-chapter-per-day update, or even started the story to begin with. And the stuffs I'm engrossed with are things I must do, since it was I who signed up for them.

I seriously apologize for the disappointment. I'll try to post some updates when I have the mental and temporal freedom to do so.

Cc. zinnyzee solly1 sampz Martinez19 MhisTahrah

New Update.

zinnyzee

Optimist1998

Martinez19

Abiiiike

Sampz

MhisTahrah

12
The New Wind

Air Marshal Adams alarms everyone in the room with his behaviour bordering on violence, as he holds firmly onto Henry's shoulders and squeezes them as tightly as his aged muscles permit. The middle-aged man of forty-two winces as he observes the cold frown on the face of his 69-year-old superior. Henry can hardly place his fingers on the reason for this reaction. He hasn't exhibited this kind of behaviour in a long while, but it is also as long as he hasn't mentioned his daughter's name to him. What exactly is it about his relationships and history that makes him deny his own daughter? Was Adams a failure who couldn't hold his home together? Was he a horrible father and a terrible husband? Is it that stench of catastrophic failure that has come back to place two of his projects, his life-long commitments, on the verge of destruction? Perhaps, some people are never meant to succeed at anything in life. And to think this man was the ace-of-aces of the Nigerian Air Force. His very life and existence are simply incomprehensible. Who reacts in such manner when his daughter's name is mentioned in his presence? It makes absolutely no sense. He wonders how he made it through the Air Force with such a fractured psyche. He has been working with Adams for more than ten years now, yet he doesn't seem to know anything about him. No member of the establishment does. He has to calm him down now.

"I apologize for the slip of tongue, sir. I meant to say our Specimen-E is in love with someone."

Adams takes his hands off Henry's shoulders and makes for his seat. He unseals a bottle of water, and pours himself a cup, gulping it down with speed. He looks around him and sees the other men heave sighs of relief. He seems to be the new problem. "Pardon me for the thoughtless display just now. The workload from the previous night must have caused me a lot of stress."

Henry nods, obviously an attempt at mockery, having Dickson respond with a mischievous smile. It's time for him to intervene. "So, General Henry was talking about Specimen-E. What's the situation like?"

Adams waves his hand disapprovingly. "No. Henry and I have a little bit to discuss for now." He glances at Henry. "Let's meet in my office." He gets up and walks towards a blue, metalic door, apparently made of iron.

A retired old hag ordering around a 4-star General. Ridiculous, thinks Henry. "Yes, sir." He follows behind him and observes in disgust as the others glare at him, their expressions bland and blank.

The two men go through the blue iron door and close it behind them.

Frank, the Commissioner of Police, shakes his head. "Is it true that Specimen-E is Adam's daughter?"

"I wonder why that should interest anyone?" Haruna doesn't seem to be in a good mood.

"Mr Haruna, I believe the SSL must have a file on Retired Air Marshal Adams Fajuyi?" Dickson inquires.

"It is classified. I am not allowed to talk about such things." Shrugs Haruna.

Dickson giggles. "Are you serious now? Aren't you the head of the SSL? You answer to no one but the Lagos State Governor. What rules are restricting you? If you're so loyal to the authorities, why are you a part of this illegal establishment, Director of the Secret Service?"

Haruna shakes his head, eyes closed. "Fine. I am not telling you anything, for the simple reason that I don't want to."

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

Femi relaxes on a deckchair under a tall palm tree. He has been sleeping in this chair ever since he was a little boy. He grew up knowing it to be his father's favorite property. He is sitting in the backyard, observing his father's farm, the land still as large, but barely enough plantations. He remembers that hardworking man who saw him through school with hard toil and hot sweat. His sufferings. His life. His story. His teachings. He was the parent, the only kind of poor parent anyone would ever wish for. His grandfather was a destitute man as well. Penury seems to be a spectre hunting their lineage. Isn't that why he's so desperate to ensure the baton is never passed on to him? His father was the first child, the one most deserving of education by tradition, but out of a good heart, had his parents pass over him to sponsor his younger brother instead, his only sibling, his beloved sibling. The young boy would grow up to become a successful Lawyer, looking after his parents, while leaving his elder brother to rot in poverty, toiling to the songs and praises of farm birds.

Even when his father took a loan from the rich man next street, using the house he inherited as collateral, his Lawyer brother offered no helping hand when he was cheated by the ruthless wealthy, who still decided to take his house by force, after robbing him of the very money he loaned him. His father went to the grave, believing humanity to be a depraved, worthless race, and that all humans deserved to be bitten to death by his ghost. He thought they were all evil, and nothing good could ever come from any of them. He taught Femi never to pity human beings, trust any of them, or do them any favour. Femi observes his father's house, with its cracked walls and faded paint, and wonders if his father ever imagined the same evil humans would ever return his house to his homeless wife and son after his death. Is that a good thing? Is father would have argued that it was them who made them homeless in the first place. And he wouldn't be wrong.

As a high school student, he had begun living out his father's teachings. He uses people to get himself out of poverty. And it's just about time for a permanent break through the glass ceiling, the time for a new wind to blow. He hears someone call out to him from a distance.

"Fem Fem!" The person sounds happy.

He gets up his chair as the person approaches, standing to his feet.

"Fem Fem. I'm so happy." A light-skinned woman jumps up, rejoicing.

"Tomi, what did she say?" He asks anxiously.

The Bee with the Four B's.

New Update.

zinnyzee
Optimist1998
Martinez19
Abiiiike
Sampz
MhisTahrah

11
The Ori Establishment

The atmospheric tension of the room thickens and solidifies as confusion is woven into fear in their minds. Is their project beginning to unravel? Has it been set on course toward a devastating fall into a ditch? If they got it wrong with Jayeola, how could they have gotten it wrong with his father as well? This is becoming embarrassing. It seems more like incompetence than miracle, and that's a scary, frightening reality that needs thorough examination and investigation. What other failure are they not aware of yet?

"I was expecting this reaction, especially from Air Marshal Adams. But, I thought Mr Haruna was aware?" Dickson, says, in a tone that suggests an intention to put Haruna's loyalty and sincerity in doubt.

Retired Air Marshal Adams Fajuyi, one of the heavy weights of the Nigerian Airforce during his younger years, glances at Dickson with curiosity, then shifts his gaze to Haruna, staring him down intensely.

"I had no idea," replies Haruna making eye contact with Dickson, the two men appearing to be communicating something covertly.

Adams notices the two and wonders what they may be hiding. For the past 18 years, he has been in charge of the Ori Establishment, supervising its Eye of the Owl Project. He has supervised three parts of the project successfully, each one an improvement over the results of its precedent. He has rarely recorded failures. Part III was very much a success, and he did his best in his capacity as the head of the establishment to ensure the new facts were kept secret, and he really believed he had gotten the only obstacle threatening that objective out of the way. Part IV was also a success, and just as in the previous part, the secrets discovered during the course of the project were on the verge of being exposed, until the only threat to them was disposed off. Or so he thought. It has now become clear to him, that not only was the fourth part of the project a failure, Dickson seems to be suggesting that the third part was as much of a failure. What ridicule.

He takes a deep breath, clears his throat, and looks up at Dickson, "for how long have you been aware of this?"

"One of Haruna's men sent me a report three days ago, detailing the situation. I had imagined that the SSL Director must have been aware as well, if one of his own men had gotten hold of such sensitive information." He taps the table and glares at Haruna. The other men start murmuring among themselves.

"Mr Haruna, Director of the SSL, what have you got to say to this?" Air Marshal Adams barks.

Haruna stands up to his feet, "I do not understand this, sir. None of my men reported any such thing to me."

"What are you insinuating then? That there is a traitor in the SSL? You told me your men are the cream of the cream? Has the sun started melting every ounce of quality in their veins?" Adams can't believe this is happening.

"I got a report two weeks ago, that one of our senior men had gone MIA. As a Secret Service, it wasn't proper to let out such information into the open. It was our duty to investigate the matter and track him down. Afferall, it was an issue internal to our organization. That's why I never mentioned it. But I don't think I have any choice now."

Dickson shakes his head, "This is ridiculous."

"Extremely ridiculous", Frank adds, squeezing his face.

Adams walks a few steps towards Haruna. "What is the name of your man that went Missing In Action?"

"Abass Folorunsho, sir."

"Abass Folorunsho?" How can that be? Abass? That boy? He met him for the first time 18 years ago, 4 years after the Ori Establishment was founded. The establishment was the brainchild of the now deceased former Governor of Lagos State, Ahmed Folorunsho, whose only son the little Abass was. Ahmed would go on to become the first Chairman of the establishment, before his death four years later, having already chosen Adams as his successor. Abass never wanted the public to know about his son, and his fatherhood status was his most guarded secret as the Governor of Lagos State. After his death, the boy went missing, and not even Adams could locate him. He thought he was dead. So, Abass has been in the Secret Service all this while?

"Do you know him sir?"

"That boy, the future of this establishment probably rests on his shoulders." Adams says with eyes closed.

Everyone in the room focuses on Adams, confusion written all over their faces.

Adams thinks things have gotten more complicated than he thought. First it was Jay, then his father, and now Abass, whose role might be even deeper than they imagine. Why did Abass desert the Secret Service? What was the point of his visit to Major-General Dickson? What was he trying to pull? What is he up to? Is he aware of what happened to his father? Does he know about the Eye of the Hole? Did he find out the true purpose of the Ori Establisment?

The Ori Establishment was Ahmed's idea. It was named after Ori, which literally means, "Head", the Orisha of the same name in Yorubaland. It is also a metaphysical concept that refers to an individual's destiny, spiritual intuition, and divine spark. In a sense, the very essence of the human being. The Ori Establishment was established as an academic as well as occultic means of psychologically exploring that essence and unravelling its secrets. It is made up of high-ranking members of the military, paramilitary, intelligence services, and other security agencies. To the general public, the Ori Establishment is just an institution that offers traditional medical alternatives to medical science, specializing in Yoruba medicine, and adding elements like Yoga and meditation, borrowed from Eastern Asian religions. No one knows about the real faces behind the veil, using the apparent function of the establishment as a cover, while performing unethical occultic and psychological experiments on unsuspecting patients, pulling the strings from behind the curtains. Adams believes Abass probably knows now.

The man in White coat also moves out of his seat, tapping the table with his fingers, and glancing at each one of the confused men. Adams observes him and figures another bomb is about to drop. Henry Fatola is an adept Psychologist. When trouble looms, he has a way of telling you before saying it. He graduated with a First in Psychology from Obafemi Awolowo University, concluded his Masters in Ludwig-Maximilien University, Germany, and bagged his PhD from Oxford University, United Kingdom. He's now a General in the Nigerian Army and the Chief of Defence Intelligence (CDI) of the Defence Intelligence Agency (DIA), appointed by the President himself. As a psychologist, he is the one in charge of the bulk of the project.

"We have another problem, here.", says Henry. "Our latest specimen, your daughter, Tomilola Adams, is in love with someone."

Adams moves toward Henry and grips his shoulders. "Tomilola is not my daughter. She is an orphan. Is that clear?"