The Man From Lagos

by Bayo Fasinro

After a few seconds, the left side of the gate opened slightly and a head popped through. The guard looked him up and down and finally to his carry-on. Peters gave him his name.

  “Hold on, sir.” His head disappeared and he shut the gate and locked it.

  Interesting. No one was cleared to enter. He tried Sade’s number again just in case she would put it together that someone was asking for her and her phone rang simultaneously.

  Just then, the gate clacked open and swung open a little wider than the last time. The guard motioned for Peters to enter and offered to handle his luggage for him. Peters politely declined and kept walking toward the door, the one on the left past the glass sliding doors. He took in the compound as he walked. It was all coming back to him. There was the tree in the middle of the compound that he used to climb on. The gutter running in the middle of everything that was covered with a grate. What he saw now were four vehicles parked facing the gate. He counted six men milling about, all giving Peters the eyeball. Unlike the friends in Singapore who’d hid their weapons inside suit coats, these men toted Israeli submachine guns and might, perhaps, be Israeli themselves. Peters had seen elite IDF soldiers and could not forget how they looked and how they moved—they were easy to spot. But why would Baba bring in such men? Was Baba’s murder and the impending threat so dire? Mr. Vue’s warnings seemed to gain further validation.

  The gate guard had closed the gate quickly and jogged to catch up to Peters. He got ahead and opened the door to let him in.

  “Welcome, sir,” he said, standing at attention.

  Why the change in the guard’s demeanor? Maybe he understood that Peters was Baba’s son; Mr. Vue had said that Baba talked about his son all the time. All Peters could muster was a thank you as he walked into a landing area by the door. Inside, a man met him inquisitively, extending a hand.

  “Welcome to Lagos, Idowu. My name is Femi Aja,” he said.

  Peters grabbed and shook his hand firmly and noticed the scars. These weren’t cutting-vegetables scars. They looked like battle scars. Bare-knuckle fighting scars.

  “Thank you, Femi. Where is my sister? Is she all right?”

  Femi let go of his hand and motioned for Peters to walk with him. It was a short walk to a door that he hoped would take him to his sister. The door swung open, and a flood of emotions came over him. There, standing and facing him, was Sade: a sister he hadn’t seen since he was a little boy. The last time he’d seen her was the day he got into the taxi and left Baba’s house. By the look in her eyes, she was remembering the exact same moment.

  Sade came from around the large desk and walked toward him.

  “Idowu!”

  “Sade!”

  They embraced as long-lost siblings. A flood of emotions overcame both of them. Tears flowed. Femi stood there, seeming deeply pleased at this emotional reunion. When they finally let go of each other, Peters and Sade just stood there staring at each other. This day had come, somehow, and they were really in the same room. It outshone even the circumstances that brought them together, and Peters couldn’t have known how happy he would be just to see her.

  The maid unobtrusively set down a tea tray and made a quick exit. Peters preferred something stronger, though, and Femi must have seen his expression. He left the room immediately, and by the time Peters had collected himself and finally sat down in one of the chairs opposite the large desk, he reappeared holding two bottles of Heineken. “Great choice,” Peters said. Just the thirst-quencher he needed after a long flight and a long drive. Femi opened both bottles and he extended one to his guest. Their rapport was immediate.

  “Cheers,” Peters said, and they clinked bottles.

  The beer felt good going down. He was already sure he would be having another.

  “So, when did you get in?” Sade asked, settling herself behind the large desk in a black executive chair—looking as at-ease as a queen in her throne.

  “I got in just now. I called you a couple of times, but no answer.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t recognize the number. I wasn’t taking any chances of anyone knowing my whereabouts.”

  Peters was puzzled by that statement. “What is going on, Sade? I got a call from you and the line cut.” He wanted to know everything. He would share his thoughts and plans later. First, he needed the full details.

  Before Sade could answer, however, Femi interjected. “We are on war footing!”

  War footing, Peters thought. He hadn’t heard that word used by a civilian before. The situation must be abysmal. But the look on Sade’s face told Peters that she didn’t necessarily agree with Femi’s assessment.

  “Femi is ready to burn the market down,” she said, giving him a strong look.

  “Tell me what is going on, please. Who killed our father?”

  Sade sat back in her chair and stared at the ceiling. Her eyes grew glassy with tears. Femi sat, more focused on finishing his beer while staring at his feet. Sade recounted how Baba was planning to retire from running his businesses. She gave the full details of the council and Baba’s role; it agreed with Mr. Vue’s summary, and Peters noted how well-versed she was with their father’s business operations, even the quiet ones. He learned of all the assets that Baba owned and who was managing each one. She told Peters of the breach of one of the businesses and the deaths. She detailed each of the council members’ reactions to the retirement news, and said that they were unanimously opposed to her as the heir, even though no one said so to her.

  Peters sat there, taking it all in. Sade finally paused and went over to the tray that the maid had brought in earlier. She felt the pot and started walking toward the door, most likely to have a new pot brought in. Just then, Femi stood up and took over the duty himself. As soon as he disappeared out of the office, Peters took this as his chance to ask Sade some questions.

  “So, who is this Femi guy? Is he family?”

  “Femi was our father’s assistant, personal bodyguard, and head of security of all of Baba’s businesses. He’s a good man and I trust him.”

  Peters was happy to hear that she had someone trusted who could protect her in case things went sideways, especially if they were going to hunt down the people who had done this to their father. He hadn’t yet shared the news about Sarah’s death, but that would come later.

  “Anything to eat?” he asked.

  Just then, Femi walked in and proved himself to be a mind-reader. “Kemi will bring in a new pot for the tea. I also asked her to make us some food as I’m sure you are hungry, Idowu.”

  Femi was also carrying fresh bottles of Heineken. Peters liked him thoroughly.

  Sade stood up and offered to show him to his room. Everyone would rest and regroup when lunch was ready, whereupon they could begin to make their plan.

  Chapter 36

  Oga (Boss) Come Quick

  Peters must have succumbed to jet lag, because the knock on the door woke him up. The voice on the other side of the door was Kemi inviting him to lunch. He went to the sink and began to freshen up before coming down. As he turned around, Kemi was standing behind him.

  “Sir, I know who you are. Your father spoke of you many times,” she said.

  Peters’ surprise melted. He understood now why his mother had taken him away, and it reassured him that everything Mr. Vue had said so far was true. Baba had missed his son.

  Kemi led the way to the dining area. Femi and Sade were already there, waiting. Peters saw Scotch eggs, vegetable rice, chicken, a bowl of piled-high meat which looked like goat meat, and what he vaguely remembered as Nigerian salad—eggs, baked beans, lettuce, cabbage, tomatoes, and cucumber. There were bottles of beer, of course, courtesy of Femi. They all tucked into the meal as soon as Peters took his place. After a few minutes, though, he spoke up. He didn’t want to waste any more time.

  “What plans do you already have?” Peters asked.

  Femi spoke first. He added more information from what he and Sade already discussed a few hours ago and then concluded, “The poli
ce IG must be connected in some way. We were called into his office and he accused Sade of poisoning her father with tea,” he said. “We almost had a situation when we left his office.”

  His voice had risen with anger. He went on to explain how they were almost run off the road. If not for the armored Range Rover they were in, they might be dead. Peters remembered seeing it when he first walked through the compound gate.

  Femi said, “We have been holed up here at the estate ever since that day. It must be the council members—and we have a plan for them and the IG.”

  Peters had put down his fork to focus on all that Femi was saying. He too suspected the council members, but it was interesting to hear that Femi and Sade were already certain.

  Femi added, “We are also on the lookout for someone who was supposed to be at the warehouse when the robbers attacked it. We have an idea where he is, but haven’t moved on where he is hiding yet.”

  Peters could take a guess but wanted to hear more. Sade hadn’t said a word yet, either. He looked straight at her.

  “So, what is the plan to take these people?” he asked, still looking at her.

  He wanted to know what the plan was from her. Femi obviously had plenty of ideas of his own.

  Sade said, “We are going to take them all. But on the same day and time,” she added.

  Peters liked it already.

  Femi said, “We don’t want one alerting the other if we grabbed them one by one.”

  Indeed, they both felt that Mama Kojo would have to go last, as she would most likely be holed up in her penthouse high up above her club. Peters agreed with the strategy. He remembered the Godfather and how Michael took everyone down in one day. It was perfect.

  “When?” he asked.

  Sade was done eating. She said, “Let’s go into the office and talk some more.”

  *

  On Sade’s desk were four separate folders: one labeled Dada, one labeled Kumari, another Chioma, and of course Kojo. Sade started going through each one of the files and the plans for grabbing each of them. Femi also educated Peters on two names he would hear a lot during this discussion: Kwesi and Niyi were Sade’s other two trusted lieutenants who reported to him. Femi promised that Peters would be meeting them later, as they were currently out on surveillance runs.

  First on the list was Dada. From what Peters knew of him from Mr. Vue, he didn’t spend much time at the office. Femi’s surveillance report showed that he had many local mistresses, but one in particular was located three hours away from Lagos in Ogbomosho.

  Femi said, “We know he likes her best, so we will take him on the road back. He will not be missed if he is returning, and no one will raise an alarm quickly.”

  He always stayed a couple of days, so he would be taken on a Sunday which is when Femi’s team would move on them all.

  Chioma, the real estate tycoon, was tricky. He hardly traveled at night and he was paranoid. Sade attested to the many meetings he’d left “on a feeling.” It was probably something in his brain, but it had served him well so far—and made him almost impossible to kidnap. However, he liked to tour his construction sites as his buildings were going up.

  “We could take him there during one of those visits, which also happen to be on Sundays, as our informants were told. He prefers that day because it is quieter than during the week. This allows him to walk the floors by himself after he has chatted with the foreman.”

  Femi knew that infiltrating the building by replacing some of the workers would be easy. It couldn’t be the foreman, though, as he would suspect something and flee. “But we could still pull it off,” he said.

  Alhaji Kumari was a different story. He loved people around him at all times. He moved around heavily protected by imported security. He always sent advance teams to locations before he made his way there.

  “We could use this to our advantage,” Femi said. “If we disrupted that, he would have to change his plans at the last minute, and we could find a way to keep him at home on that day. Even as rich as he is, he eats a lot of street food. There’s a bean seller who plies her trade around Banana Island where he lives.” Femi chuckled. “Kwesi has some fun mimicking her calls, Elewa, elewa… Anyway, she is allowed in through the gates. We couldn’t pretend to be her, but we could add something to what she sells without her knowing, and take out the house in the process. The house usually buys up the whole lot, and she goes home after. It is always a good sale for her. We will have to move her once the deed is done, of course, as it could be very bad for her when people suspect her of playing a role. Relocating her will be easy and expensive, but it is only fair.”

  The plans were doable. Sade and Femi had thought them through. Peters helped review the plan and used his skills to tighten up some timelines. He too approved of the plan. He was going to get his revenge before he left for home. He felt sure of it now.

  “And Mama Kojo?” Peters asked.

  “If the rest of them are already taken care of, they won’t be able to alert her at home,” Sade said. “We think Sunday is the day to take everyone out because her club is open only for lunch and dinner that day. There won’t be hundreds of people to worry about during the incursion—and Sunday also works for us to grab Chioma as he tours his new site, now that its shell is up and the elevator works.”

  “It can be easy to clear out the patrons in her building if needed,” Peters said, still thinking of Kojo. “A small kitchen fire would do the trick.”

  Femi liked the idea. “Yes. Just drop a lantern somewhere and you could empty a whole neighborhood just by yelling fire!”

  Sade nodded and sat down hard in her chair. Femi took over to explain the plan for Mama Kojo in more detail. He started describing the building floor by floor based on information gathered from staff members who had been bribed to talk. Femi’s team had also garnered the city building records—which weren’t usually accurate—and collected intel from watching the building. The second floor wasn’t just offices, it held her staff of assistants, cooks, maids, drivers, and any other person who tended to her every beck and call. She always wanted them close and didn’t change staff often. The third floor was key—that floor was residences, as well, but only for her security personnel. Those men also guarded the fourth-floor penthouse where she lived. And there was the underground parking where VIPs parked, watched by two security guards twenty-four hours a day on a twelve-hour rotation; the shift change might be part of the breach on her building.

  “We would need everyone to take the club and the penthouse,” Peters said, taking it in.

  “Yes. And we have only two days before we move,” Femi stated. He paused, thinking. “It would be helpful to know what the temperature is inside the club right before we move in.”

  This was music to Peters’s ears—he volunteered immediately to help gather that intel.

  Femi and Sade gave each other a look that he knew meant the same thing. How can this guy know how to do surveillance?

  Peters grinned and said, “Trust me.”

  Once there were no more objections, Femi promised to have everyone in place by Sunday. Each team would report back to him when they had moved on their target and whether the target was dead or alive.

  “I don’t care either way,” Sade said.

  Femi nodded. He had arrangements to make and would be back Saturday night. And with that, he left to implement the plan.

  Chapter 37

  Tell Me More

  The sun was setting and the front sitting room was illuminated by the interior lights. Peters had switched to tea because he couldn’t drink any more beer; he was glad Femi had left so he could sober up.

  “So, tell me what you have been doing all these years,” Sade said.

  He didn’t know where to start. “The day we left,” he said, “I couldn’t understand why you didn’t come with us. Mom said you didn’t want to leave our father alone by himself and that was why you stayed. As a young boy, I believed it, I guess,” he added, laughing.
Sade smiled along with him. She was his elder by three years so her memory of the day was more mature; she didn’t get into it, not yet.

  Peters said, “It’s okay, I don’t want to know why you stayed, but I’m glad you did.” He continued his life story. “I went off to university in Minnesota and studied criminal justice. I joined Homeland Security after graduating and stayed for about ten years. I got out when our mother passed away when I was away on assignment. It was time to settle down and take stock.”

  Sade looked very sad. He hadn’t even gotten to the hard part yet, and she must have noticed his demeanor change.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes,” he answered. “I was also married to the most beautiful woman in the world.”

  “Wow, you are married?” Sade said excitedly. But then her face changed and a puzzled look came on her face. “Or were?”

  “She was murdered, sis,” he said. “And I think our father’s killers had something to do with it. It happened after your warning.”

  Sade’s eyes opened wide and her mouth opened but nothing came out. He explained how the men that killed her mistook her for their target. For that mistake, Sarah and their unborn child lost their lives. He recounted how they had spent years trying IVF and finally were successful—but were robbed even of the chance to celebrate together.

  Sade was speechless and heavy with sadness. She didn’t know what to say, and he did not blame her.

  “I had the people who killed my Sarah tracked. They flew out of MSP to Charles De Gaulle and then took a connecting flight to Lagos. They came for me, sis, and they killed my family instead,” he said now, with tears in his eyes. “I have nothing anymore, Sade. I have no one anymore. They took my Sarah from me.” A sob escaped. “I’m going to kill them all. I’m going to kill all of them no matter who they are.”

  Sade had already come to his side and was also crying. He stood up and embraced her, while letting all his emotions out. It was the second time in his life that he had cried in front of someone. And it all had to do with Sarah and what they did to her. His sister was comforting and understanding; she whispered in his ear. Things he couldn’t make out at first, but after she whispered it for the third time, he finally heard it.