Chapter 7: The Man

Jones J. Johnson was sitting on his patio, relaxing and enjoying the cool afternoon breeze. His job was really paying well. He was enjoying a lot of the clientele's patronage. In fact his market had reached beyond the borders of Ghana. The TV was on, tuned to GTV, not because he wanted to watch but because he wanted to drown out the noise that the workers were making as they were installing a new jacuzzi beside his bathtub.

The program that was on was immediately interrupted by some sort of evening news but he didn't give a damn about that. He just wanted to relax and get these damn workers to finish the jacuzzi before Angela came over. He smiled and remembered their first shagging. It was epic, but this will definitely be better.

In the middle of his daydreaming he heard a name that immediately brought a frown to his face. It sounded familiar, so he turned in the direction of the TV and what he saw shook him to his bone.  Mr. Charles Takyi, the guy running for president had been in an accident.

He didn't particularly care about his well-being, but it was memories of a deal he did 9 months ago that began to resurface. The deal that rocketed his 'career' in the black market and into the pockets of many politicians. If he remembered correctly the event that took place that day.

It was a Thursday afternoon and it was rare to see a Ghanaian smoking in the middle of a busy street as 'early' as 12 noon. With all the heat wave that obliterated any wish for a cool breeze. But he had to, it was both an addiction and a signal to his newest customer.

Standing at the entrance of the Makola market, facing the Law School. That stance too was an identification mark. He was very cautious of how he moved around, how he did his business. He had moved into this bloody country not too long ago, 6 years to be exact but it took him quite some time to acclimatize to this freaking heat. For crying out it was like being stuck in an oven even during night time.

He looked at his $5,000 Aviator wrist watch under semi-dirty shirt nervously. This particular client, he could feel was a big fish. Looking at all the trouble he/she was going through to make sure that everything was on point.

A minute after checking the time, a figure, smallish in nature compared to him but average compared to the multitude of Ghanaians walking around. Two nods from the person facing  him and tapping his left shoulder told him that that was the client; biiiiiig fish.

As arranged, the client was wearing a oversized  double-breasted suit which he had left open. He walked towards the waiting man as if he knew him from Adam and hadn't seen him in a while. With a holler and a wave he crossed the road and gave him a 'brother's' handshake. Immediately they hugged, his right hand slipped into the coat and felt the envelope in the left inner pocket. He took it out and slipped it into his top pocket. The process was quick and no one would have detected it even if they were standing an inch away from the two of them.

They exchanged a few words and they parted ways. He sprinted back to where he was standing before his client came. When he turned around his client was gone. He was that good, not a trace, not even a distant image of him.

He rushed back to his car down in the parking lot under the Makola market and opened the envelope. As arranged $10,000 in $100 bills along with the details of the person he was supposed to deal with was in there. He took another look at the detail and he realized he knew the person but he was of another name. It was not his place to question his clients desires but with this particular one, there were warning bells ringing. It was a picture of one of the most elusive criminals in the States. Well not so elusive as he was caught by the CIA and been in jail for the past two years.

This guy was a mystery and only few knew about his origin; he was one of the few. He knew that this criminal was originally from Ghana and moved to the States when he was 15 with his family before he disappeared into gang life and crime. What he didn't know was that he was a twin.

He shook his head and smiled. "Me of all people, I'm supposed to erase this guy from existence. Hm, me against Mr. Tek himself. This should be fun."

Now things began to make sense. The guy who wanted Mr. Tek wiped out of existence did it because the big men didn't want any link between Mr. Takyi and Tek. This was huge; only he and whoever orchestrated the deal knew about this. He could make a shitload of money on this if he played his cards right. He began to shake with excitement.

Suddenly Jones realized that though there was still noise coming from the bathroom he wasn't hearing any human voices. Had they taken a break or were they also listening to the news? He got up and went to the living room to turn down the volume of the TV. His phone began to ring and he picked up. He immediately recognized the voice. The only guy who actually had dirt on him. He was a blessing and a curse. Jones couldn't hear the person on the other end of the line clearly because the noise was just too much so he turned off the TV. Immediately the screen went black he saw a figure reflecting on the screen, standing behind him. Danger, danger, danger, his instints began to ring

He turned quickly to grab something to use in defense but he was too slow. The pain was sharp and his vision began to blur but he could make out the structure and face of the person before everything went black. It was the double breasted suite guy from 9 mo0nths ago. He looked meaner, quieter, sinister, without emotion. Just cold dead eyes looking right at him. The man was......

Chapter 6: The Other One

It was the fourth day since he had been down there. He didn't know where he was or what was going on. He received food and water once a day but he never saw who brought it. His 'cell' was cleaned by morning and he never saw who did that too. He wasn't being maltreated or mishandled, just tied up and connected to a tube. The tube supplied him with oxygen directly to his lungs because the room was completely devoid of air. Oxygen was allowed in only when he was ready to eat. Once he was done, the oxygen would be sucked out of the room until he passed out. By the time he woke up the tube would be back in his nostrils.

Once a day he was made to pass out by means of the tube. By the time he comes to, he'd be in the washroom. A sign was there directing him to take his bath and use the 'loo'. There were cameras everywhere keeping a close eye on him.

Being as smart as he was he started counting the seconds by using his heart-rate as his timer. It was also the only activity that was keeping him focused. He knew that by the time he woke up from sleep he had 1,250 heartbeats before he passed out. He had 350 heartbeats to use the wash up before he passed out again. In that period his food and drink would be provided.

He had also used his sleeping times as a way of counting the days since he found himself in that peculiar situation. On this fourth day something was off, very off. He counted 2,200 heartbeats before his meal came in. This change in routine started to mess with his focus and his instincts started firing like crazy.

He started to work out possible escape scenarios but none of them seemed feasible since he didn't even know how he got there in the first place. There was nothing he could grab and since the cameras were always on, 4 in each room viewing all 4 angles of the whichever room he was in, he couldn't sneak anything into his outfit.

Also for some funny reason, more oxygen was being pumped through the tube as if his captor was trying to keep him awake. it was working, no matter how hard he tried he just couldn't call on the sandman to come sprinkle some fairy dust on his eyelids. He then started counting his heartbeat just to keep him focused but that wasn't working. His mind wouldn't let him.

He tried counting again but the oxygen wasn't helping. Focusing with all his will power he managed to get to 600 irregular heartbeats before then next strange thing happened. The oxygen began to lessen. At first it was relieving, until he realized that whoever was controlling it was about putting him to sleep, again.

As he was passing out, he heard a noise, like a door opening, at a corner of the room you'd least expect a door to be. A man walked in and in the dying moments of his passing out he heard;

"Time to put you back Mr. Charles Takyi. Or should I call you Tek?" That was it, he was out cold.

Chapter 5: I know him

James had his head in his hands, struggling to convince his imaginary watchers that he was ok and could wait for Kwasi to come out of the operation room. He James wasn't hurt that bad, the airbag just gave him a 'slightly' heavy knock to the head that almost rendered him unconscious. Kwasi on the other hand wasn't so lucky. A big piece of the windscreen got into his right arm as he had used it to shield his face.

Everything happened so fast. Just when they had crossed the traffic light at Spinal junction opposite the Accra mall he got a 'driver's itch' immediately he put on his seatbelt and Kwasi being his best friend immediately knew something was up. He never doubted James' instincts when it came to the road and cars.

Just at the bottom of the rise in the road James saw why the itch had started. Kwasi saw it too and said in a low tone "James?" and he replied "Yeah". That was a 30 minute conversation compressed into 3 seconds. There was a truck in front of them which looked like it couldn't stop in time and was trying to dodge something. That something was a man in the middle of the road. Kwasi didn't know how but he knew James was going to save the man. Even James didn't know how he was going to do it. Everything just happened so quickly and on its own. The next thing both of them knew was that they were at the hospital and Kwasi was getting stitched up.

A nurse walked by not giving him any attention, which he was glad for. He was in no mood for any scrutiny save news that Kwasi was ok. A few minutes out walked the nurse, followed by Kwasi with a broad grin on his face. The grin that said, I have got another one. That was the look he always had whenever he came back from the club with a 'story' to tell. Right on queue the nurse turned around and flashed Kwasi a smile. As she was turning back around she bumped into a man who was also a bit distracted. She excused herself and attempted to walk away but the man stopped her and started a conversation with her.

The boys immediately exchanged glances and began to laugh silently. Just as James was good with cars, Kwasi was good with the ladies. He had bedded two out of three of the girls he had come across and always had the third hooked just in case. James admired him for that and since he didn't have that flair he just stuck with his cars. This nurse too had become a victim.

"Chale, are you ok?" James asked him.

"Oh yeeeeah, I'm cool. With a girl like that as my nurse, all the pain from the stitches was worth it" Kwasi replied with a smirk on his face. "Look at that booty, whoa!!! she's one hot tamale I can't wait to hit."

James shook his head in amazement and was about saying something when he noticed that the guy the nurse had bumped into coming towards them. He tapped Kwasi who immediately went into 'hurt mode'.

The man walked directly at them without a break in his stride. As soon as he got there he asked

"So who's the hero?"

James and Kwasi exchanged glances again but this time it was a confused one. The guy stood there as if waiting a to deliver a punch line. It took a few seconds for it to register that the men in front of him were as confused as to who 'the hero' was.

"Ok, who was the driver of the truck that saved Mr. Takyi?" He tried again.

Still they were standing there with a blank look as if they had been zombied by lack of information. He tried a third time.

"The man that was in the middle of the road. The one that was almost hit by a truck, well, hit by a car afterwards actually. Which one of you was driving the truck that rammed into the other one?"

"Ooh, you mean the idiot who was standing in the middle of the road." Kwasi finally got it.

He pointed at James. He was just standing there smiling like he had heard a not so funny joke and was trying to be courteous by giving a smile. The man immediately zoned in on him and began to study him. He then asked " What's your name sir?"

"Who's asking?" replied James.

"Oh sorry. My name is Daniel Baffoe Barimah. I am the news presenter on GTV's Breaking News on the Go." The man started smiling and puffing out his chest like he had just declared that he was the ruler of the universe."

"Hmmm, I don't think I've ever seen you on TV" replied James, which was half true considering the fact that he rarely watched TV let alone GTV for that matter.

That very moment, James heard a voice that he did recognize. Not because he knew the person personally but because he had heard it over and over again.

"Where is he? How is he? Someone talk else trouble will become my middle name. I want answers NOW!" That was the voice of the running mate of the NDP party; William Kyekyeku. They say Takyi is the face that will win the next elections but William was the brains behind it all. Though he didn't have charisma like his mate, he was definitely one coy person you should rather have on your side than against you.

James knew all of this because he had known him since his high school days in Mfantsipim School. Kyekyeku hated the limelight. He could have been school prefect but rather chose to run mass. He could have been football captain but rather chose to help the school coach with the training. What James didn't know was that he was 'the' William Kyekyeku that the news had been talking about for the past year.

James stood there astounded, but Daniel, being the news person that he was flew straight towards the newcomer as if the guys he was talking to initially were a curse he had to run away from.  In that very moment, the nurse who had attended to Kwasi earlier came rushing out of nowhere to qualm the raging beast. In her attempt, she almost saw the back-hand of one of the security detail accompanying Mr. Kyekyeku.

They then walked right past both Daniel and James without even a hint of attention to their presence. The only thing any of them could hear was "It wasn't supposed to happen this way. It wasn't,  it wasn't."

What wasn't supposed to happen? What was he talking about? James was surprised to see such a countenance on a man who for the 4 years he had known him never ever exhibited any sign of worry or fear, just a cool calculative head and perceptive eyes. James glanced around and realized that the news presenter was also confused at the rambling of William Kyekyeku. What the hell is going on?

Chapter 4 : The News

10, 9,8,7....breathe Dan, breathe, 3,2,1. The place went deadly silent as the theme music came on queue. The lights came on and the signal was on.

"And we have a breaking news at this moment. We understand that the NDP candidate running for presidency, Mr.  Charles K. Takyi,  was in a road accident this afternoon. The incident happened at the Shangri-La traffic light, on the Liberty road. No one has been able to determine or explain how he got there and what he was doing there without his entourage. Witnesses say all they saw was someone pushing forward to beat the traffic light but before they realized he was in the middle of the road.

Because of the strange circumstances surrounding the incident many did not readily identify him to be the NDP candidate running for presidency save one lady by the name of Alberta Nti-Amoah who called in the ambulance. Further reports on his well-being  has been unclear as this has become a matter of national security. Any further news will be reported here so please make it a point to stay tuned. My name is Daniel Baffoe Barimah, and this has been Breaking News on the Go".

It was like this every time. Dan had been doing the breaking news for almost 2 years now but every single time his nerves got to him before he went on. The world of journalism out on the field was more invigorating but the desk job paid much better  plus he got to be famous through news delivery.

Because they had so little time for the breaking news to be read, not all the report on the accident was presented. He held the papers in his hand and started scanning through again, just to get a feel of how it would have been like to be there when it happened. It was one thrilling read with the account that the witnesses gave especially the collision of the trucks. It made him almost miss the field work.

That was it. He had made up his mind. After work, he was going to pass by the accident scene and see for himself the aftermath of the whole show. Knowing the Ghana police, they weren't going to clean up any time soon.

With that, the day went by pretty fast as mundane as it was. By 5 o'clock Dan was driving in the direction of the accident from GBC. Once he got there he parked at the hotel and crossed the street to the other side where the second truck that everyone was talking about had been lodged comfortably into the wall, the hero's truck, he called it.

5 years as a field reporter gave him the ability to visualize from report how things happen but being there, at the accident scene, he just couldn't shake off the feeling that there was more to it. Obviously, how Mr. Takyi landed there was indeed a mystery and why no further reports were being given to the press was even more. It is politics after all but this 'politricks' really stank of something fishy.

Once he had had enough of the view Dan went back into his car. He sat in there pondering over what he had seen for almost 20 minutes before starting the vehicle. Before he even came to himself he found himself driving towards the 37 military hospital where Mr. Takyi had been taken. Yep, his field instincts had taken over.

Chapter 3: Accidents

“It was just for drinks, that was all it was, nothing more. It doesn’t matter if it had been going on for some time now. It’s not like I slept with any of them. Besides, they’re way too old for me to consider that. I can’t believe that Yaw would think of me this way, after all we’ve been through.”

Alberta had just had a fight with her boyfriend over some issue that to her shouldn’t have been an issue at all. Just because she went out more often than he did shouldn’t make him so insecure about what she does. She knows that if they were like any normal couple he should have every reason not to trust her but they weren’t. They were the couple that talked about everything, from what kind of external hard drive he’d like to buy in the next 2 days to what colour of heels she’d like to purchase the next hour.

People didn’t understand how a nerd like Yaw; overprotected and overemotional would be able to land a hot smoking babe like her, not that she’s saying she is but come on, if you’re getting 18 friend’s request on Facebook per day to 3 ‘hi, what’s your name, can I have your number’ almost every 2 hours then either you’re smoking hot or the people are freaking blind and you’re the one with the one eye.

When they met she found him very weird, in the sense that though he hung out with the average, drinking, smoking, partying crowd, he didn’t do any of that. At first it was kinda nice, like a breath of fresh air after being inside an overcrowded pub for over 3 hours and finally stepping out to see a full moon on a cool night. He was like that night with the moon, emphasis on the ‘was’. But things changed.

Last night she met a guy, like every other night but this guy was different. He was very suave and sophisticated. He tried doing the whole, ’oh I’m a gentleman and I’m not trying to hit on you but I am if it’s working’ thing on her and it was entertaining up to the point where he dropped her off at her house and tried to kiss her. Yaw had stayed up late to wait for her and unfortunately saw all that drama. A normal guy would come out and probably punch the guy before going all hill-billy on his girl, but no, not Yaw. He just stayed in the window, made sure she saw him and waited for her to try and fight of the ‘gentleman’s’ attempts before ambushing her at the door and accusing her of cheating and disloyalty. Sometimes it felt like she was in the relationship all by herself, warding of girls and guys, ratio being 1:20. The fight carried on to the morning and she had not being able to concentrate at work. Normally she’d let the driver go and get her lunch but not this time. She needed to get out of the office and clear her mind.

She went to the Accra mall, got something to eat and decided to leg it for a while up the road to the Shangri-La bus stop before getting a cab to the office. She had just had just gotten to the overhead that the railway tracks pass when a truck sped by in an attempt to beat the traffic light. For a minute it looked like it might just make it but with a second look it didn’t seem possible. There was a second truck, smaller than the first, that was about stopping at the light but suddenly started speeding up, as if the two were in a race. What happened afterward was like something out of a Hollywood movie.

The first truck was going too fast to stop at the light and there were people on the pavement shouting at something, presumably the driver. At the rate he was going he would have crashed into a car that had already stopped at the light so he swerved to the right but lost control. Instead of a minimal displacement towards the right, the truck started to tip over due to whatever load the truck was carrying. It looked like it might end up on the pavement where all those people were but something beyond what you’d normally see happened. The second truck rammed into the first causing it to change course into the middle of the road. Due to the impact the second truck also lost control but the driver managed to steer it back into shape. Something flew out of the back of the second truck as it swerved to the right.

The scene was strange, apparently there was someone in the middle of the road that the first truck would have hit had it not being for the second truck ramming into it. The second rammed in just in time for the two to miss the pedestrian who had somehow wandered unto the street. The situation would have been worse had the second not gained control to steer itself back unto the road. Whatever that flew out of the truck seemed pretty heavy because it flew straight at the pedestrian and knocked him out cold.

Blood started oozing from head and people where rushing to the trucks which had both come to a halt, the first being overturned and the second managing to fuse itself into a wall. Alberta began to run towards the scene without knowing why. She was like that; she’d drop whatever she was doing if she felt she had a chance to help someone. She had worked with Red Cross for over 8 years and it was because of this trait that they gave her excellent reference anytime she asked. It was a bit confusing, the scene, because it all happened after the traffic light and vehicles coming from down the road wouldn’t see anything until they get up the road. Luckily, that day most of the vehicles that plowed the road had good drivers who were dodging the mess left and right before pulling to the side of the road to see what they could do to help, except for one.

Just when the pedestrian who had been hit with the object began to gain consciousness and got to his feet that car that wasn’t driving as well as the rest just saw him. Too late to stop and too unprepared to swerve to the left or right. What Alberta saw was a man managing to jump just in time for physics and a speeding car  to help him defy gravity for about 5 seconds before landing face first on the hot asphalt without breaking his neck.

Within seconds Alberta had traversed the distance between she and the man and was beginning to turn him over delicately while whipping out her phone to call the ambulance. As she turned him over she recognized him. He was one of her new friends she’s been hanging out with. He was Charles K. Takyi, the guy running for president.

Chapter 2: We are Friends

“Chale, you fool waa!!” was all he could manage to say as he laughed hysterically at the joke his friend Kwasi had cracked about the lady who tried to cross the road as if it belonged to her. James was a real speed junkie; he would drive anything that had wheels and could do zero to sixty in less than 10 seconds and he was pretty good at it too. People tell him that if Ghana had a proper F1 race track he’d probably be the next Michael Schumacher. He could do things that other drivers thought was mad crazy. To him, it was all about calculation and timing, gears and curves, roads and tires. His motto was “Speed doesn’t kill people, overconfidence does”. He could drive with his knee under the steering wheel and listen to Ray Charles’ famous “hit the road jack” song, doing a mega nineteen-eighty head-bob with his hands all up in the air synchronizing with the bass of the music, pass through a police checkpoint and wouldn’t even flinch. Apparently, the police got tired of stopping him and let him be.

Kwasi was his best-friend. They had not been friends for long but once they got to know each other they stuck like glue. They had both just finished university and had done their national service together. Kwasi was a programmer and a damn good one too. The company he worked for thought it unwise to let him go after his service so they gave him a contract to stay. James wasn’t so lucky, a programmer himself but he loved the media work so he was thrown out. Fortunately, anytime there were some odd jobs available Kwasi would let him know about it and he’d pick it up. To him it wasn’t that bad, at least it beat six months of staying at home with your thumb up your ass.

Kwasi’s company had just landed a deal with the ministry of information to provide software that could actually keep track of the citizens of Ghana without the horrendous task of hiring personnel who would have to go round and collect data from house to house. It sounded impossible but Kwasi thought of a brilliant idea. He came up with the theory that with all the social networks around one could list his family members as far back as he or she could, the software would cross-reference the names and compile them. By the time it was done one would practically have all the names and contacts of the citizens of this beloved country.

The tricky part was getting these social networks to actually allow this plug-in and make people believe that it was confidential at all levels and a matter of national interest. Kwasi had the solution; advertisement to the highest degree. If the Ministry could spend about five million Ghana cedis on archaic methods of information gathering, they could at least spend a quarter of it on advertisement.

Now the company needed someone to transport the computers for the staff training to the development site. He thought it was silly because you don’t really need training on how to use facebook. But hey, who is he to doubt the financial prowess of his company. How else were they gonna make money. Unfortunately for the company, they didn’t have the kind of vehicle that could transport the number of computers needed for the training thus they needed to rent one; Job opportunity.

Chapter 1: Fuck Me!

Everything was blurry. All he could make out were faces expressing words that seemed so incomprehensible in every form, arms flailing to the right and left signaling despair and involuntary rescue. Dazed, he was trying to figure out what they were saying with a per-second whizzing by of some sort of machinery which disappeared into the distance matched with what seemed to be angered voices.

One thing was clear though, he could not move. With every ounce of panic that he could generate to signal his body that he needed to move, he began to shift his weight from the direction of the faces to the distant unknown. That’s when he realized that he was on the ground; he was lying on an asphalt ground. His senses began to kick in, first feeling the rush of wind that swept past him every single time the whizzing noises shot by.

He felt his arms; they were trembling, shaking as if he has landed them in a bucket of ice for hours. There was a sudden shot of pain in his lower body and he collapsed to the ground again. Cursing with the little vocabulary that he could muster he tried again. The voices were getting louder and more agitated. They better shut up if they aren’t gonna help him get up.

Finally, he managed to get to his feet. The rush of blood draining from his head to his feet due to his sudden upward movement almost knocked him to the ground again. A few steps sideways enabled him to stabilize himself. Everything started becoming clear. He could almost make out the faces contorting in manners of despair and frustration. He could almost make out faces mouthing the words, ‘Get out of the way’. Then there was a loud blaring of noise which caught his attention. Without thinking his arms swung him in the direction of the din, his eyes adjusted sight, his brain recognized the danger, his lips mouthed, “Fuck me!”, then everything went black.