An Evening With Eva

Episode 45

Dad? Is this really you?” Eva asked moving
close to her father.

She did not mind the gun that was now
pointed at her temple. She had shock and
surprise written all over her face as she walked
towards her father.

“Stay where you are Eva. We don’t want to
have ourselves a blood bath.” The Colonel
replied not taking his eyes off Sean who was
still on the floor.

Without turning, the Colonel kicked the door
close with his left leg. With the sides of his
eyes he kept an eye on Sean and saw his
daughter moving closer. He gauged the
distance between Eva and him. He fired a
shot.

The bullet shattered the bottle of Vodka on the
table close to Eva. It was a precise shot.

With his eyes still on Sean, he barked:
“I said don’t fucckking move girl!”
Eva froze in her steps. If this man could take
such a shot, she did not want to experience
what it would feel like if he actually aimed at
her. She stooped. The look she saw in his eyes
was one she had never seen before. His eyes
were very red. His face was expressionless.

But somehow she was able to connect with his
countenance. And what she saw there scared
her. Her father was hurting. Her father was
desperate. Her father wanted blood.

“You, get up.” He said to Sean waving the gun at him and directing him towards Eva.

Sean crawled up from the ground, backing
away from him. He walked backward hitting
his legs against the couch. He was now side
by side with Eva now.

“Good boy.”

“What do you want?” Sean finally asked.

He now realized that whoever this man was he
needed something. And he would not get it if
he killed any of them. Then he had heard Eva
call him dad. He would get back to that much
later but first, he needed to know why this
man had burst into their privacy and
threatened them.

The Colonel turned and had them sit on the
couch. He faced them and sat on the couch
directly opposite them, aiming the guns at
both foreheads.

“I am sure you are wondering why I am here
and what I want. I am going to make it very
simple. I want to talk. Just talk. I want to
drop my guns now. But don’t go having any
ideas.” The Colonel said.

As he finished he nodded at their chests and
they both looked at their chests at the same
time. There was a tiny red infra-red target
marker on their chests. They looked up at the
Colonel.

The Colonel smiled
“I brought a few friends, just in case things
got, you know, a little bit out of control. You
know how stubborn you children usually are.”

He said and continued.

“But trust me; none of you will leave this room
alive if you decide to act funny. All I ask is
that you just listen to me. Give me a few
minutes. Listen to what I have to say. And if
you don’t like it, I walk out. And I will never
bother you again. That simple.” The Colonel
said.

He pressed the cartridge release buttons on
both guns and the cartridges containing the
bullets fell to the ground.

“You see? No guns from me. Now, hear what I
have to say.” The Colonel said.

---

Ambrose touched down in Abuja at exactly
12:30pm the day before he was to resume in
the SPPS. He wanted a feel of the
environment, acclimatize to the weather and
maybe find one or two hotspots to cool off
after a hectic day. He decided against a taxi
and took the bullet train instead. He got on
the train, checked with the coach and dumped
his luggage in the suspender above his seat.

He got the window seat which he always loved
because it granted him ample view of the lush
scenery wherever he went. The speakers above
his head came alive and it was announced
that the train was about to move and the
journey would take twenty minutes. He shifted
in his chair, making himself more comfortable.

There was no one beside him. He closed his
eyes, desperate for a quick nap.

After seven minutes he opened his eyes. He
could not sleep. He felt uneasy. His stomach
rumbled. He got up and made for the toilet.

Just then a man who sat three seats behind
him got up too. He was slim, six feet tall and
wore glasses. He wore a tailored three piece
suit and had a gun inside his inner b—m
pocket. He walked slowly the same way
Ambrose went, towards the toilet.

As Ambrose closed the door behind him, he
quickly put his ears by the toilet door,
listening for footsteps. One of the rules for
every spy was, “Always Study Your
Environment.” Immediately Ambrose entered
the train and sat down, he noticed the man in
the three piece suit come in after him, He
could feel the man’s gaze on him. He knew
something was not right. Another part of him
told him he might just be over reacting. He
drew the conclusion that he had to be careful.

However, now the footsteps drew closer. He
now had no doubts in his mind that this was
the same man. The footsteps were calculated,
slow and precise. They were ordered. He
moved away from the door and waited.

There were three cubicles in the male section.

He was in the last one. The footsteps stooped and a door opened. Ambrose guessed it was the first cubicle. He was not too sure. He hated
being unsure. So, he made a deep sound as if
he was having trouble getting his business
done. He waited. A door shut and the
footsteps came again. Slow, calculating and
precise. He approximated the distance from
the first cubicle to the next. The second
cubicle was open so if he was a man in need
of a poo, the footsteps would stop. But it
didn’t. The footsteps continued and stopped
at his door. Ambrose groaned again for effect.

He was facing the door preparing for the
worst. He looked around the toilet and the
only thing he could see was a towel. He took
it and folded it in two. The door had a tiny
knob with no key hole. Even air would have a
hard time peeping through.

The knob turned and the door opened
outwards.

Ambrose kicked the door with all the strength
he could muster. The door hit the man on his
face and the gun fell off his hand. Ambrose
rushed towards him before the man could
regain his composure. He rained blows on the
man’s face and upper body.

He tied the towel around the man’s neck,
shutting the air out of him. The man gasped
for breath. Ambrose dragged him into the
toilet and put his head by the window.

The train was moving very fast. Trees and forests were everywhere. There was a tunnel coming up in the far distance. In a matter of seconds,
the man’s body would be headless if not
dragged back into the train.

“Who sent you?!!!” Ambrose barked, pinning
the man’s legs to the wall, his head and
shoulders outside the window. He strangled
the man tighter. The man coughed. He did not
reply.

“I said, who sent you!?” Ambrose shouted
again punching the man in the face.

The tunnel was visible now. If Ambrose did
not drag the man inside, the man would die.

He would not have any clue about who sent
him. He decided to let the man die.

“You brought this on yourself.” Ambrose said
pushing the man’s body farther out.

The man got this strength from nowhere, freed
his legs and hit Ambrose’s g—n with his knee
cap. He felt the choking hold on his neck
loosen, so he punched Ambrose on the face
and quickly pulled himself back into the toilet.

Immediately, the train entered the tunnel.

Both men panted and looked at each other
with cold stares.

The man was first to speak.

“My name is Special Agent Ken. You just
passed your interview.” The man said panting
and bringing out a badge from his pocket. He
threw it at Ambrose. Ambrose ran his hands
through the gold crest of the elephants on his
badge. It was genuine.

“What interview?” Ambrose asked.

“What you had at the Capitol was just a
courtesy visit. This WAS the interview.”

Special Agent Ken replied.

“One of us could have been killed! What sort of
crazy people am I working with?” Ambrose
said, standing up. The man got up too.

“This is my job. I have been interviewing
members for the SPPS for eight years. Let’s
just say, I like to gamble with my life.” Agent
Ken said.

Ambrose was about to retort when the
speakers above them came alive.

“We have two minutes before we reach
Gwarimpa. Please get ready.”

“Time to go.” Agent Ken said.

They cleaned up themselves and went back to
their seats.

“What have I gotten myself into?” Ambrose
wondered.

As they got off the train he got a message on
his phone.

“Code Red. Abort Mission.”

It was from Sophia.