Chapter 6: Consequences

I didn't say a word as I drove away from the bank as fast as I could. The streets were empty with only a few cars on the road. It was the perfect time for the robbery. We could drive at high speeds as the roads were free, but we weren't the only cars on the road so no one could know for sure that our car was transporting the men who had fired the shot that had pierced the silence of the night.

My anger was spreading like a burning fire, emanating from my heart and spreading through the entirety of my body. Uzo had stained our carefully planned robbery operation with a freaking murder. I wondered if he understood just how much he had ruined things.

He didn't.

"Wow, that was freaking awesome," Uzo yelled with excitement, eyes wide with joy teeth shining in the darkness as he grinned wickedly.

"What the fuck," I yelled. "Are you crazy?" I was so frustrated that the right words failed me. I didn't even know where to start.

"Crazy? Come on man, we just made out with four duffel bags of cash. We are rich men. It's a pity that we have to pay that stupid banker, and inspector Yemi gets a cut. But other than that, we are freaking rich."

"You killed a man today, Uzo. You realize that right?" I asked, seriously doubting Uzo's sanity as only a crazy man would kill for the first time and act like it never happened.

I was already scared of closing my eyes for fear of seeing that body with the pool of blood beneath it. Despite the fact that my eyes weren't closed, I found my mind picturing his face, a detail I didn't even know my eyes had captured back when we were in the bank.

"Man, I don't want to talk about that shit. Dude had it coming. Let's talk about something else, like how rich we are and the fact that we have to pay Yemi and Frank. I really don't think we should pay Frank. He is already making more than enough from bending the figures. What's in the trunk should be ours, no one else's. Yemi is only a necessary addition."

"I am not having this conversation with you. We need Frank to clean the money. Without him, all we have in the trunk is simply paper that cant be used for anything major. Try buying a car with cash and watch as red flags start flying and a cop appears out of thin air to ask you questions."

"The money needs to be cleaned but it doesn't have to be him. I know a guy that can do it for us at a discount. Met him at a bar, we spoke in hypotheticals of course but he…"

"Are you mad?" I yelled, reaching new levels of anger that I never thought possible. "You told an absolute stranger that we were robbing a bank."

"Of course not. You know, I don't really like the tone with which you speak to me. You dont respect me and you think I am stupid. I am not foolish, I notice. But I let it slide. But not tonight," he said angrily. "Not when I got a gun on my hip," he added with a chuckle that was supposed to make him sound jovial but ended up making me realize that I was in a car with a dangerous, crazy motherfuker. A dangerous crazy motherfucker of my own making.

The entire operation was my plan, Uzo, the weapon created to execute it was the work of my scheming mind. It was therefore my responsibility to tame him and keep him on a leash.

I was busy contemplating the best way to rein Uzo in when I spotted a checkpoint a few meters ahead. It was too late to avoid them without raising any suspicion that would turn into a pursuit.

"Uzo," I said calmly. "Is that a checkpoint?"

"Shit," Uzo said, noticing them for the first time as he began to tremble slightly.

"Seems your friend inspector Yemi didn't do his job right because this isn't Olaniyi street. This is not the spot he told us that squad would be. Or is this a different squad?"

"I don't know man. You got your pistol with you?" Uzo asked.

"No. I left it in the booth. What does that have to do with our current predicament?"

"I can't shoot them all by myself."

"What the fuck? Nobody is shooting anyone. We can talk our way out of this. It would obviously be harder given the fact that you are high and armed. You also look guilty as fuck. Just keep cool and I will handle it."

"You better, because they sure ain't taking me alive. I either get rich tonight or die trying."

"Just shut the fuck up," I said as I slowed down and prepared my brightest smile possible. The cop was waving his torchlight, signaling for me to halt my vehicle. I did, stopping right next to him. He pointed his torchlight into the vehicle and looked in. Left to his devices, Uzo would have taken that very moment to shoot the cop in the face. But rather than the barrel of a pistol, the policeman was met with my charming smile.

"Officer, how you doing?"

"Fine boy. Where you they go?" the cop said, returning my smile. However, his smile which had given me hope that we were safe quickly faded as he saw Uzo. "Wetin dey do your friend."

I looked to Uzo to find him staring at the ground. The crazy fucker had looked guilty as hell. If I was in the officer's shoes, I would have arrested him on the spot.

Thinking fast on my feet, I decided to employ my greatest ally in life, deceit.

"Oga, make I no lie you, we go shayo."

"Ehn, ehn."

"Yes sir."

"Be like say your friend don nana."

I replied to this with a smile.

"Hope say you no drink too much? "

"No, I just drink something light."

"You sure."

"Of course. Trust me."

"Ehn ehn. Okay na. But they careful o. We just hear gunshot. Some bad boys they operate for this area. But I know say no be una. Na those cultists dey kill themselves as usual. We for don respond but our car get fault. Just shine your eyes and get home safe ehn.

It was in that moment it hit me, the fuckers didnt know that a bank had been robbed. to them, some street urchin had been shot in a dark alley somewhere. Not worth their attention especially as their vehicle was grounded. This was probably the squad that the inspector had spoken about.

"Thank You officer," I said with a light bow and made to move.

"Where you dey go?" the officer said, his face switching from a smile to a frown

"Sir?" I asked, confused.

"I say our car get fault. You no go drop something way we go use reach house."

"Oh, sorry," I said, reaching into my pocket, pulling out my wallet and fetching a five hundred naira note for the officer.

He looked at my offering with anger and looked into my eyes.

"I said," he muttered in a low growl of clear crispy english. "Our vehicle is faulty. Wouldn't you drop something for us to get home?" he cocked his head to the side, making it clear that his question was a threat. He was daring me to be stupid and his suggestion became clear. Before me stood the cop that inspector Yemi had charged with sabotaging the rogue overbearing squad. He wasn't asking for a normal bribe, he was asking for a special gift. He had probably diverted the squad to the location they were in for this exact purpose.

"Or do you want to come down and meet my boss?"

"No," I said, fear dropping into my heart like a grenade, exploding into panic. "The money is in the booth."

"Oya park," he said, switching back to his normal average Nigerian cop persona. I obeyed, easing off the road and parking on the sidewalk. "Come and open your booth," he added loudly for the benefit of his colleagues.

"What's going on there," said the incorruptible superior officer that inspector Yemi had told us about.

"Nothing sir. Just doing "stop and search". Everything is under control sir."

The superior officer, clearly frustrated by the prospects of being stranded, nodded and allowed his subordinate to carry on.

"What's going on?" Uzo asked. I saw him reach for his waist holster and I immediately understood what he was thinking.

"He is in on it. Just calm down. I got this."

"Fine, we do it your way for now. But if he acts funny, I'm letting it pop."

"It won't come to that," I said as I stepped out of my vehicle, and followed the cop to the trunk. I opened the booth to reveal our loot and weaponry.

"Oya, give me my share."

"Bro," I said, trying to be reasonable.

"I'm not your bro," the crooked officer replied.

"Fine, officer. There is a limit to how much I can give you without your colleagues noticing."

"I am not stupid," he replied in clear english that surprised me yet again. "Just give me two bundles."

"Fine,'' I said with a sigh. "I opened up one of the bags that had been filled with naira."

"No foreign currency?" he asked as I withdrew two stacks.

"No," I lied boldly.

He looked at me as I offered him the two stacks, clearly suspicious.

"What's going on there? Did you find something in his booth?" asked the superior officer, getting suspicious.

"No sir. Nothing out of the ordinary, sir," the cop said, taking the stacks of cash and shoving it into his pockets. I slammed the booth and began to walk briskly into my car. As soon as I was in the cockpit, I started my vehicle and zoomed off.

"The alhaji's house isn't too far from here," Uzo said. "We can change the money there and lay low in his house until tomorrow. It's too risky for us to drive home and a hotel is worse. The receptionist could see us and suspect us when news of the robbery begins to make the rounds."

"Nothing has changed, we stick to the plan."

"I don't know man. Frank surely called an ambulance as soon as we left. The ambulance could have arrived with police men, especially if Frank told them that it was a gunshot wound. Look, we can still give Frank his cut. But we don't have to clean our cash with him. I don't see the sense in us cleaning our cash in the same place we stole it from. It's like eating where you shit. Imagine if Frank gets caught while cleaning the cash. Or maybe he collects the cash and immediately starts to say rubbish all in a bid to screw us over."

Uzo's words slipped into my ears and I ruminated over them. The thing about mad men is that sometimes, their words aren't mad. Sometimes, and these times are few and far in between, mad men say surprising intelligent things. It is for this reason that the line between madness and genius is perceived by most to be extremely thin.

Uzo was right. We needed a safehouse and the Alhaji's home seemed to be our best bet. The inspector had promised us that only one squad would be on duty and he might have been right. But he had been wrong about the position of that one squad. Who was to say that there weren't multiple squads in the area between the bank and Uzo's home. Even the assumption that the squad we had just seen is the squad we had been warned about was just that, an assumption made by me.

"Where?" I asked, succumbing to the seductive rationality of his idea like a man succumbs to the seductive voluptuousness of a woman that isn't his wife. The original plan was my wife, Uzo's suggestion was my mistress.

"Make a right at the next junction. His house is the third building on the left."

I obeyed his instruction, Slipping my dick into bullshit and sealing my fate to get fucked. I knew this was bad even as I parked before the gate and tapped the center of the steering wheel to give off a light horn. However, I still believed that it was a good idea.

I refer you to my analogy of cheating on the wife. You know it's bad but it feels so good and you delude yourself that it's a good idea. It felt good to reach a destination and be off the street, it felt good to no longer be driving a car loaded with weapons and incriminating evidence of my crime. Yes, my dear loot had turned into incriminating evidence of my crime. Fear of getting caught can do that to a man.

A few seconds after I had sounded my horn, a hefty guard that was easily above six feet in height, with large long arms and a pumped up chest, stepped out of the pedestrian gate. The guard was armed with a shotgun and dressed in a white tank top and black sweatpants. His casual dressing and leisurely gait didn't fool me. The scowl on his face and the brightness in his eyes made it clear that he was alert and ready. The chances of him pointing his shotgun at us and blowing a hole through our head were low, but not zero.

Standing next to my side of the vehicle, he signaled for me to ease my window down. I obeyed and tried to look as non-threatening as possible.

"What are you looking for?

"Alhaji Danke," Uzo said, taking the lead as he should. This was after all his game. We had left my realm of following a carefully organized plan. We were now in his realm of last minute ideas and crazy choices.

"The Alhaji isn't taking any visitors right now," the brute said. "Come tomorrow."

"Its urgent. Tell him that the thing we discussed the other night at Khal's lounge is no longer hypothetical. If he asks for a name, tell him Uzo."

The brute waited for Uzo to finish talking and even waited another second before responding in a rather condescending tone.

"Wait here," he said as he turned towards the gate and began to take his leave.

"Wait here," Uzo said mockingly, his face squeezed in jest, his head shaking for effect. "This guy does not have sense, just big muscles. Where are we going to go before?"

I wasn't in the mood to entertain his chitchat. I simply sat in silence, trying to get the image of the dead man out of my head.

I began to sink into my thoughts, wondering if the dead man had a wife and kids? Was his father still alive, his mother? How many lives would be deeply affected by his death? He could still survive, but as I sat in the car, the image of his blood pooling beneath his back, his breath slow as a tiny stream of blood flowed out of his mouth, I knew the truth- he was dead.

The gates of the Alhaji's home slid open on its mechanical motors to reveal a fortress. The massive compound which was a combination of four plots was impressive and imposing. Now I have seen ostentatious buildings before but never in my life have I seen such vast splendor and wanton luxury.

The main house had three floors and equal width to match. With four pillars right in the middle, two outshoots on the right and left, the mansion looked like a dwarfed U. There were towers and domes in the Arabic architectural style. The roofs were painted gold and the walls white, perfectly creating the Islamic style that I have never truly appreciated until that very moment.

On the right side of the building were small chalets which served as guest houses. They were painted in the same colour as the main house, white walls and golden roofs. However, the architectural style was strictly European with no hint of Arabic influence.

On the left side of the house, lining the entirety of the left wall, were cars of different sizes and styles. From sports cars to SUVs, the man had a freaking fleet that incited a great feeling of envy in me.

I wondered how often he drove the cars, probably not often. Wealthy old men had a knack for taking the finer things for themselves even when they no longer had a need for it.

After parking my vehicle under the directions of the massive brute, I stepped out and tried to stand as straight as I could.

"Follow me," the brute said and naturally we obeyed. "However, we were only a few feet away from the car when he turned around with a puzzled look on his face. Where is the package."

"In the booth," Uzo said before I could even think about the pros and cons of offering that bit of information.

"Go get it, "the brute said.

"Fine," Uzo snapped as he walked back to the car, standing in front of the booth, apparently waiting for me to open up.

I looked at him, looked at the brute, looked around to once again remind myself of my situation. Eventually, I came to a simple conclusion, I had no choice. Perhaps Uzo saw that too, or perhaps he was just stupid

Uzo and I carried our bags out of the booth. I holstered the pistol and swung the Rifle across my shoulder, while each of my hands held a bag.

We walked back to the brute and he continued walking. Making our way into the guest house, my eyes were met with the best of simplicity and ostentation.

The chalet consisted of a small living room, a slightly bigger bedroom, a bath and a tiny kitchen. The furniture was simple. Three leather single couches and a glass center table. The bedroom offered a queen sized bed with white sheets.

"The alhaji would be with you shortly," the brute said and left the building.

Uzo and I dropped the bags on the floor and pulled off our jackets. It was nice to feel the cool AC air blowing through my light shirt and caressing my skin as I settled into a comfy chair.

"I need something to drink," Uzo said.

I looked at him for a moment, judging him harshly as I tended to do. But I quickly realized that he was right, we both needed drinks.

I rose to my feet and walked to the tiny fridge I saw in the corner. I wasn't holding out to too much hope but to my greatest surprise, right there in the tiny fridge was a bottle of Best creamy alcohol and two cups.

Pulling the bottle and cups out, I said. "Seems like our coming here was predestined."

I poured the drinks and gave a cup to Uzo. He emptied his glass and proceeded to take the bottle from my hand.

I on the other hand was too busy savoring the first sip of the strong liquor. I couldn't give a fuck about his usual shenanigans. The creamy goodness hit my nose with the intoxicating smell of alcohol, giving off a faint whiff of dizziness. I let the drink slip into my mouth, soak my tongue and warm my throat as it went down. It felt good.

I let out a sigh and for the first time in a very long while, I felt relaxed. We sat there for thirty minutes, waiting in silence as we drank. Uzo drank with his usual determination while I tried, although somewhat failed, to pace myself.

When the door opened, it took a second for me to find my feet under me.

The brute that had opened the gate for us walked in and two other brutes of equal size followed. All three of them were armed with shotguns on their shoulders. Suddenly there were five of us in the cramped up room. "This is not good," I thought to myself.

After the three brutes had tried their best to spread around, standing at three of the four corners of the room, strategic positions in the event of an attack, a frail figure walked in.

The frail one was dressed in a gray short sleeve jalabiya which clearly served him as a nightwear. As soon as he strode in with the grace that old age and extreme wealth offered powerful men, I recognised the frail figure as the Alhaji we had been waiting for.

His cheeks were droopy, his lips hung loose and his entire body was bent in an awkward and twisted way. Even his eyes followed the decline, droopy and lazy with heavy eye bags that seemed to draw his entire face down.

However, behind those lazy eyes was something I had learned to recognise very swiftly, greed. Not the normal kind like all men had, the twisted, mad, irrational kind, the dangerous kind, the kind that would burn the whole world just to improve the bottom line by a few more units.

We weren't in the presence of a rational man, we were in the presence of insanity itself. "Little wonder Uzo clicked with him, '' I thought to myself.

They were both suffering from different variants of the same virus. The alhaji was much more advanced in age, but if one looked closely, perhaps with the third eye - if you believe in such nonsense - you will see that the old bent over man was in fact Uzo's future self. I could see my wild friend turning into the twisted predator that stood before us.

Flashing his warm smile that gave his face a semblance of joviality and youthfulness which one who had not recognised him would have found gentle and inviting, the alhaji motoned for us to take our seats as he sat across from us.

"Gentlemen, it's a pleasure to see you," he said, opening the meeting with civility although I knew it wouldn't last.

"It's a pleasure to see you too Alhaji. For a minute there we thought you wouldn't give us refuge." Uzo said happily, clearly oblivious to the danger we were in. I wondered if he couldn't read the situation. Couldn't he see that the guards had taken positions at the corners of the room behind us? Perhaps he was aware of our predicament but saw no way other than forward and was therefore trying to keep the alhaji friendly.

Of course his effort would be wasted. The Alhaji was mad and if he wanted to screw us over, being nice to him wasn't going to stop him.

I found it quite ironic that Uzo couldn't see himself in the Alhaji. If he could he would have been able to realise what was going through the Alhaji's mind be I could see a bit of myself in the vile monster seated before us, that was why I could estimate his thoughts. Uzo should have been able to do the same.

"Nonsense. My gates are always open to young enterprising men such as yourself. Now, time is of the essence, let's get down to business. Show me the money," the alhaji said with gusto, his eyes gleaming wickedly as he ran his tongue over his lips frantically.

Uzo picked up one of the bags, the one containing dollars and placed it on the coffee table. The alhaji sprung forward with virility that didn't match his age or earlier movement.

He unzipped the bag and his eyes widened even further. A man as rich as he was and with the level of moral ambiguity that he clearly had, would have seen bags of money on numerous occasions. However, for some reason, his eyes still shined bright.

"Go get the bill counters," he ordered the brute closest to him. And two notepads with pens, he added as the brute began to make his way out of the door. The thug nodded and shut the door behind himself.

"I think we can start talking about payment arrangements," I said. Uzo shot me a look of anger. To him, I was being too hasty and this wasn't the right time to bring up things like payment arrangements. But I was planning to get out of the compound alive and rich. WIth the third guard gone, the best time to escalate the situation had finally arrived. The moment was our best chance at surviving a battle of fists or arms.

'Let's wait until Tiger comes back. The bill counter has a sensor for checking if the cash you have brought are counterfeits. After we have clarified the authenticity of the currency, we can talk about payment."

"We want bitcoins," I said. "What rate do you offer?'

The alhaji cocked his head to the side, trying to read me, determined to put me in a box. I was doing the same.

"I can send dollars to your domiciliary accounts."

"No, it's traceable. We want bitcoins and we want it as soon as every dollar is counted," I insisted and this earned me another second of the old man looking at me with annoyance.

"Fine," he said, just as Tiger returned with three counting machines and two notepads. It took a lot of dexterity from the huge man to balance three machines and two notepads in his hand. But somehow, he managed. He handed one over to the alhaji and beckoned one of his colleagues over, leaving one last thug to stand guard. He then gave us the notepads to write down the counts. The Alhaji's and two of his brutes got to work counting the money. Uzo and I watched as the machines whirred, writing down the number it offered after every cross count.

After counting the contents of each bag, the notes were neatly bound up and returned to the bag. The bags were then set at the alhaji's feet, a gesture I didn't fail to notice.

By the time we were done counting we had a million dollars and fifty million naira. The dollars had been the real loot. With the counting done, we all let out a sigh. For me, it wasn't a sign of exhaustion, it was a sigh that came when anticipation was over. The moment of truth had finally arrived. Now it all came down to if the alhaji was going to pay up or yank our chain.

"So," I said, writing the address of my wallet on a piece of paper. "Here is my address, and Uzo would give you his,' I said, passing the paper over to Uzo. Uzo quickly scribbled the long address of his crypto wallet and proceeded to pass it over to Alhaji.

The alhaji looked at the sheet with disdain, his lips curving downward as if in mockery.

"You young boys," he said, his lips still curved downward, now protruding forward irritatingly. "You don't know how to do business. You just like to do things in a hurry. I'm not going to send money to that wallet or anything you call it. What if you made a mistake and I sent it to the wrong address?"

"We can check again to be sure," I said, knowing the game he was playing but covering my bases.

"Not good enough. You guys just finished a high stake operation. You are jittery and tired. Why don't you spend the night here, tomorrow morning, you can send the wallet address or whatever to my email. My tech boy would make sure that he sends it correctly. He knows all the gibberish that goes along with this fake money you people call crypto currency. All that gas fees and what not. All these things have to be factored in. And he first has to send a small amount to you, you will confirm it, before he then sends the rest. All these things are too technical for us to do when you guys are still jumpy from adrenaline."

I looked to Uzo, hoping to see that he had caught on, but my friend was nodding in agreement with the alhaji's rubbish.

In the little ongoing game of chess, Alhaji Danke and I were the only players. Everyone else were pawns. Uzo and the three brutes weren't playing, they were simply following. That made the situation feel even more oppressive. Danke had three pawns, I had only one. And to make matters worse, my pawn was corrupted and I wasn't sure how quickly he would react to my orders. Would he hesitate when I say "go"?

I had to force things into a swift conclusion. If the alhaji was planning to attack us while we slept, I couldn't allow it. Of course, we could wait till nightfall and strike first but I didn't want to do that. I was not one for suspense. I hated watching the dice roll. I was not the kind of man to wait quietly for a verdict. A swift conclusion, that's what I prefered.

The temptation to pull out my gun and hand my life over to fate was growing at the back of my head. I wanted to either die in a blaze of glory or survive in an epic way. The thought of dying like a coward who was busy scheming or playing along as the noose of his foe tightened around his neck sent a shiver down my spine, I feared that end more than anything. Win or lose, the alhaji was going to have to feel some pain.

"You are right. Crypto is too unstable. We would take the wire transfer," I said, retrieving the pad from the alhaji's side of the table. I bent as if to start writing but before I could even put down the first number, the Alhaji spoke.

"That won't be necessary. You guys need some rest. We don't want to trigger the attention of the banking regulators. You are safe from the authorities here. We can sort all these out tomorrow. This kind of thing is best handled with fresh eyes and minds."

"It's not a thing,' I said, dropping the pen and relaxing into my chair, hands resting on the arms of the furniture. With my arms hanging inward, my hand was closer to my weapon, making it more accessible for a quick draw.

My opponent on the other side of the board saw my fingers and he tensed slightly. The situation was getting critical, he knew and so did I.

"You are not thinking clearly," the alhaji said, looking me straight in the eyes.

"Maybe, maybe not. But we are leaving," I said rising to my feet and walking towards the bags that were now on the alhaji's side of the room. Tiger stepped forward, standing between me and the alhaji, or more accurately, standing between me and my money, the worst place a man could stand.

"Move," I said firmly as I looked up at him, my eyes staring into his'. I heard a slight shuffle behind me and a click. Guns had been drawn but who and which guns exactly, I couldn't tell. I couldn't afford to look back, not with my eyes on the biggest dog in the yard.

"Now, now, gentlemen, you are in my home. Don't insult my hospitality," The alhaji said calmly, clearly amused and confident.

"We thank you for your hospitality but we have had enough of it," I replied. "We are leaving."

"Fine, you are free to leave and hand yourself over to the cops but you aren't leaving with the cash."

"Why?" Uzo asked, finally catching up with the situation. A bit late to the party but still early enough to join in.

"Because we have completed that stage of the transaction," the alhaji said, still trying to sound reasonable while robbing us. "You have given me the cash, all that is left is for me to make the wire transfer to you. This will happen tomorrow. Giving you back the cash would mean drawing back the hands of time and jeopardizing the entire transaction. You could walk out there and get picked up by the cops with the money and all. We would both lose. But if you drop your money here, your weapons too, if you wish, the cops would have no evidence to tie you to the robbery. It's simple common sense. You will receive your money in your accounts first thing tomorrow morning."

"We will take our chances without you," I said firmly. I knew that the alhaji's intentions for us were of evil and not of good to give us a miserable end. He was either going to kill us in his house, or force us to leave empty handed. If we left the house without the cash, I was certain we would never see a kobo of the loot ever again. He was simply going to deny our existence with such vehemence that we would begin to doubt ourselves.

I know what you are thinking, "Seth, you paranoid devil. Why are you so willing to assume the worst?" Well the answer to that question is quite simple, prepare for the worst and hope for the best, never delude yourself that things are going well.

If the alhaji was in any way an honest man, he would have made the transfer rather than give us the runaround. The moment he showed reluctance in paying up was the moment I concluded that he was out to get us.

"Enough of this nonsense," the alhaji said, his mask of false friendliness falling off to reveal the devil beneath. "You are surrounded by my men and this entire compound is crawling with their colleagues. You can't fight your way out of here. So let's do stop playing. You can leave with your lives, but not with the money. And as for me sending you the money, you can forget about that. It is off the table. Your life is all that is available now, take it or leave it."

I scoffed, "you make it sound like the money was ever truly on the table to begin with."

The alhaji shut me a glare that turned into a snicker.

"You are way too sharp to be running around with your foolish friend over there. "

The big man in front of me chuckled and that was my cue, the idiot was too confident in the situation. He hadn't even unslung his weapon. Perhaps what was happening behind him made him confident, perhaps the fact that we were on his turf made him cocky. But he didnt realise that I didnt give a fuck, I didnt care about the thugs outside or if Uzo had the other men in the room under control.

I drew my weapon quickly from my holster, pointed upward and let it pop. The recoil shut my arm backward as the exploding sound of my shot boomed out. The loud bang slammed into the tight walls and unleashed a crescendo that was made worse as other shots were let off behind me.

I didn't have time to check if Uzo was dead or victorious. I grabbed the only ticket out of the hell we had sunk ourselves into, the frail old man that was in fact a greedy ghoul in human skin.

Pulling him up from the chair, I pointed a gun to his head and for the first time looked at the what had been going on behind me.

To this day, I dont know how that crazy fucker did it. Perhaps shotguns are hard to aim and shoot, perhaps the guns of one of the fuckers jammed. Maybe they even hesitated and Uzo was trigger happy. All I know is that the two brutes that had been standing behind us were laying dead at Uzo's feet. He had a grin on his face, his pistol in his left hand and his ak in his right.

As I stared at him, trying to figure out how he had killed both men before they could let off a single shot, I realised that a bit of me had actually been hoping that Uzo died. A bit of me had hoped to kill Tiger and the last brute standing after the shoot out with Uzo. That bit of me had been hoping to escape with the entire loot. I would have had it all to myself.

And it was then it hit me, the man that was in my grip, gun pointed at his head, nozzle pressing into his skin, wasn't a reflection of Uzo, he was a reflection of me and only me. That was why I could read him so well. His actions, with a few modifications, were the exact actions that I would have taken.