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......