IT’S ALL IN THE GAME (FICTION)

West Africa,

Lagos.

Present Day

The stench of urine and fear was chokingly overpowering. Yes, fear had an odour. Most people didn’t know this but Kelvin did. It was a subtle, sickly stench that oozed from the pores. It was a physical reaction to the breaking down of an individual’s mental and emotional balance and resolve. Kelvin loved it when he managed to produce this reaction in others. It fed a sadistic need in a part of his soul. That need was now addictive.

  Kelvin looked around. He was in handcuffs, sitting on the floor in a prison vehicle that contained three times the number of people it should be carrying. The faces around him were all depressing. Most were frightened but a couple had a look of indifference. It was obvious that these were hardened criminals, repeat offenders who had gone through this process many times in the past. As his mind drifted to the recent past that had put him in his present predicament, the odour became evil. Somebody had defecated.

                                                                                       II

About Eleven Months Earlier

Kelvin Takato looked at the broken man kneeling in front of his massive office desk with a poker face. The smell of fear came off him in delicious waves. They both knew that Kelvin could turn his life into a living hell, simply by taking away his job. In a country like Nigeria, with a 70% unemployment rate, his prospects of getting another job like this were practically nil. Not at 45 and, not with thousands in the job market who were younger and infinitely more qualified.

   He was tempted to call in his secretary. There was no real reason for this. It was simply to have a witness around to see another man’s humiliation. He shelved the idea this time. He needed an informant.

  Kelvin looked at the face of the man abasing himself before him. “Mr. Gyo Bishi”, he said the kneeling man’s name softly.

  “Sir…?” The frightened man replied.

  “How long have you been working in this bank?” Kelvin asked innocently.

  “About 20 years, sir,” Bishi replied hesitantly.

  “With what qualifications did you get a job here?” Kelvin asked, walking around his desk to stand in front of the beaten man.

  “A diploma, sir,” Bishi replied.

  “A diploma in what?” Kelvin grilled.

  “In carpentry, sir.”

   Kelvin looked at Bishi for a long time while he squirmed uncomfortably in his kneeling position. The man was sweating profusely despite the heavy air conditioning in the office.

  “So Bishi, what you’re trying to tell me is that, in all these years; you couldn’t make yourself useful to this bank by improving yourself?”

  Bishi looked at the ground, saying nothing. The sweat stood out on his glistening face like a bad case of pimples.

  “Do you still want this job?” Kelvin asked softly.

  “Yes, sir,” Bishi replied, trembling. He thought of his jobless wife and four children. Unemployment would be a disaster.

  “Really? Are you really sure you still want this job?”

  “I do, sir. Please, I’m begging…mercy, sir,” the poor man groveled.

  Looking down at the broken man, Kelvin knew he had him exactly where he wanted. The man was so scared of losing his job, that he would do anything to protect it.

  “Okay,” Kelvin said softly. “However, I want you to be clear about something.”

  Bishi was looking up at him attentively.

  “Although you may be a staff of this bank, you now work for me. Understood?!”

  Bishi nodded his understanding and acceptance.

  Kelvin now instructed him on how to spy on other members of staff and report back to him, after swearing him to secrecy.

                                                                                   III

Kelvin Takato was a good-looking young man of 37 years. He complimented this with above-average intelligence and, a sunny disposition. However, this façade masked the dark side of his true nature. He was very greedy and, a bully. 

  Kelvin was in high spirits when he entered the bank’s underground garage. He got into his fashionably flashy sports car and drove out into the crawling Lagos traffic.  As he inched his way home in the slow-moving traffic, he thought about how well the day had gone.

  He had succeeded in installing his fourth spy within the banking halls and, had made some money today.

   The money was quite a tidy sum, a few million. It came from some loan deals he had facilitated. Most people would have been excited about making this kind of money, risk-free, outside their salaries. Kelvin was not. He wanted to be rich, and his concept of ‘rich’ was not a few million.

  He had information on the high net worth accounts in his bank, and he knew that his personal net worth was a pittance. He wanted to be rich, really rich. He wanted it without the drudgery and hard work that was the foundation of building any great fortunes.

  Most of all, he considered the princes and princesses of inheritance. People who had inherited massive commercial kingdoms and, in some cases, empires. People whose parents and ancestors had sweated, slaved, and sinned to build massive fortunes. These were people who since birth had done nothing but spend money, without thinking about the price of anything. He knew he had a few of them as ‘friends’ because of his position in the bank.

  How he envied these people. In fact, his envy was a kind of burning secret hatred. He hated their casual indifference and self-assurance. Two traits came from knowing that you could afford anything with a price tag, be it animate or inanimate. The ability to be a god in a world of your own material creation.

  He wanted to be rich. He needed to be rich! This is why he chose a career in banking. He believed that if he worked in close proximity with money, he would find a way to acquire a huge sum without the drudgery.

  As he inched into the lane that would take him to his residence on the Island, he felt a jarring shock run through his car as a commercial vehicle changing lanes rear-ended his car.

     Kelvin was instantly crazed with rage.

He jumped out of his car, ran to the bus behind it, dragged out the pleading driver, and started raining heavy slaps on his face.

  The bus’s passengers poured out of the vehicle and, started pleading with the ‘big man’ assaulting their driver.

  The assault continued unabated, while a crowd watched helplessly. When the beating became intolerable and life-threatening, the bus driver lost his fear. He fought back.

  As was expected of a member of the social class of people who did this kind of work in Nigeria, the bus driver turned out to be a very competent street fighter.

     Although he was at a disadvantage in size and weight, the bus driver made up for it in skills. Up till this point, the fight had consisted of only one person hitting the other. Now, with the bus driver fighting back, the dynamic changed. He went into a crouch, therefore making himself a more difficult target for Kelvin’s longer reach. He came out of the crouch bobbing and weaving, throwing a combination of hooks-and-crosses.

  Within a few seconds, Kelvin was bloodied. The once pleading crowd was now cheering the turn of events. Then Kelvin made the mistake of trying to wrestle his opponent. He was taken down hard and, was thoroughly messed up in the dirt.

  The traffic jam caused by the altercation ran a kilometer long. Suddenly, the police appeared. The once cheering crowd vanished like steam. The road was cleared and the two combatants were taken to the police station with their vehicles.

  As it was the custom in all third world countries, in Nigeria, justice is ‘for sale’ to the highest bidder. The police quickly took Kelvin’s side the moment ‘encouragement’ exchanged hands at the station, with the promise of more to facilitate the ‘investigation’.

  Kelvin’s face was swollen and, he had cuts on his brow and lips. His ego was badly bruised and his clothes were torn. He felt thoroughly humiliated. He swore to himself that he would spend any amount of money to get ‘justice’.

  Statements were taken from both parties and, the bus driver was promptly locked up, while a bunch of charges was cooked up to keep him in jail for years. The man’s mobile phone was confiscated to prevent him from exercising his rights and, all entreaties by him to make a call fell on deaf ears.

  Kelvin went ahead to arrange with the police, the sequence of bribes that would keep the bus driver incarcerated for a long time. After this, he left the station to have himself treated. He promised to be in court the next day when the hell on earth he had financed for the bus driver would begin.

  The next morning, Kelvin called his secretary in the bank to let her know that he would be coming in late. He arrived in court 30 minutes before the commencement of proceedings. Sitting down, he waited patiently for the accused individuals to be brought in.

  The police detention vehicle arrived with the accused people. They were herded into a corner in the courtroom. Kelvin tried to identify the bus driver among them. To his chagrin, he found out that he was not among them.

  He stepped out of the courtroom and, whipping out his mobile phone called the Investigating Police Officer in charge of the case.  The IPO answered the call promptly, listening patiently to Kelvin whine about their ‘arrangement’.

  The IPO made Kelvin understand that the bus driver had somehow managed to contact somebody. It turned out that somebody had come around to affect his release by posting his bail and, they had had to comply. Not doing so would have created unnecessary issues. He said they had seen such before.

  A seemingly lowly person may have a formidable ally. However, the case was not closed. The IPO told Kelvin to come to the station that evening. He believed that he would still be able to get the case to court without delay. The present situation was just a slight hiccup.

  Kelvin returned to the office in a very foul mood. He proceeded to make all his subordinates unhappy. The day couldn’t pass quickly enough. He was sure that the arrangements he had made with the police were solid. All he had to do was finance the process. He was confident that he had enough financial firepower to overwhelm the bus driver and his ally.

  That evening, Kelvin arrived at the police station determined to show this riff-raff of a bus driver who was boss. The man was already waiting for him when he entered the building. Straight away, he started pressuring the officers.

  The officers pacified him and told him to follow them to the DPO’s office. The is the most senior officer and, head of the station.

  Kelvin guessed that somebody must be waiting for him in the DPO’s office. He was determined to be resolute in the punishment of the driver. They got to the DPO’s office, observed the necessary protocols and he was ushered into the small sparsely furnished office.

  The DPO was a stern-looking man in his late middle age. He was sitting behind a plain, large desk. In front of the desk were two chairs, one was empty, the other was occupied by a singularly beautiful woman.

     As he took his seat in front of the DPO’s desk, he felt himself drowning in those big, beautiful, brown eyes. Introductions were made and, it turned out that her name was Seri. She had the face of an angel and a body that must have been designed by the devil himself. She gave him a warm greeting, with a smile that could have melted an iceberg.

Seri explained how the bus driver had once helped her out of a sticky situation. She didn’t elaborate on what the situation had been. She said she felt obliged to help him in his time of need. She pleaded profusely on the driver’s behalf, imploring Kelvin to drop all charges and let bygones be bygones.

  Kelvin listened to the soft, sonorous voice for some time. He would have done anything for this beautiful being in front of him, but he had to be smart and exploit the situation. He agreed without promising to see what he could do but insisted that they would have to meet again outside the station.

  Seri agreed.

  The DPO smiled knowingly.

                                                                                            IV

Kelvin was lying naked in a king-sized bed in the master bedroom of his spacious Island flat. Seri was asleep on his chest, naked. Her breathing caressed his right nipple like butterfly wings, and the lion in him roared anew. He ran his hand down the silky skin of her spine until he cupped a soft mound of promise, at the base.

  She opened sleepy, big, brown eyes that were filled with naked desire. Her soft, wet, pink tongue lovingly caressed his nipple.  

  The white fire of pleasure ran an electrifying course of desire through his nerves. His actions became more purposeful, more aggressive. He put her on all fours and threaded the needle.

His lover vocalized her encouragement and appreciation, as they went at it again, hard.

  After hours of pleasure-filled activities, the two lovers fell asleep.

Kelvin looked at the beautiful woman sleeping in his arms and, conflicting emotions ran through him. The emotions were love and anger. Love, from an intense need to care for and possess. Anger, bred from a burning sensation of frustration. It is the feeling of frustration that kept nagging at him. He slowed down his breathing and reviewed everything in his mind again.

  Right from the start of their relationship, Seri made it absolutely clear that it had to be a secret affair. Although she made it obvious that she was as intensely attracted to him as he was to her, the relationship didn’t have a future. According to her, it had to remain a secret affair.

  He had argued, pleaded, and threatened to no avail, to get her to tie the marital knot with him. Then he thought of her reasons for refusing to become his wife. This was where his frustrations stemmed from.

  Seri’s status was straightforward. She was a courtesan of the highest class. A kept woman, who could only be accessed by the top ranking in society. She was the mistress and priced possession of a stupendously rich and, extremely powerful political figure. Her lord and master were Chief Nabaga, a political godfather; who made and broke political careers, the way a dog crushed chicken bones. He had wanted her to become his seventh wife, but she had cunningly evaded this issue to date.

  She knew that the moment that she was completely ‘owned’, she would lose her allure. But, for the moment, she wanted for nothing materially. Chief Nabaga, the political godfather, only required one thing from her – loyalty. Thus, the absolute necessity for their affair to be secret.

  The little Kelvin knew of Chief Nabaga, from stories that had circulated about him in the social grapevines; hinted at an extremely dangerous man. It was obvious that he was the worst kind of person to have as an enemy. He was very cunning. A man who reveled in the destruction and humiliation of perceived enemies. He could be downright cold-blooded, vindictive and, not one to forgive a perceived slight or, loss of face. Marrying his prized mistress will definitely be perceived as a slight. Repercussions would be swift, vicious, and merciless.

  Kelvin took a deep breath; in appreciation of the danger, he was in right now. He was already riding a lioness, dismounting could be as dangerous as being caught by the lion. Nevertheless, he didn’t want to dismount; he wanted to own her. Taming her has been an extremely delicious experience.

   Another thing to consider was Seri’s expenses. Kelvin knew that nothing soured a relationship faster than poverty. Love, like every other thing in the material world, had a price tag.

  Seri had never worked a single day in her thirty-one beautiful years on earth. She had been born a fine baby. She grew up to be a pretty child and, had blossomed into beautiful womanhood. She was excruciatingly expensive and high maintenance. She lived in a luxurious five-room duplex, in the most exclusive residential estate on the Island. She owned three high-end cars, each costing over a hundred thousand dollars. Her monthly wardrobe allowance was a ridiculous sum and, her monthly pocket money was equivalent to his annual salary.

Kelvin took another deep breath, caressing the hair of the beautiful being he loved most in the world, while she slept comfortably in his arms.

  Truth be told, Seri had never cost him a dime since their relationship started a few months ago. In fact, the only disagreements they’ve ever had were because he bought her gifts. She always insisted that he shouldn’t waste his money. Conversely, she had spent millions on him. She said that she had never done this for any other man in her life and, it was because she loved him. Still, he was very unhappy about the situation. However, he knew that if he was ever going to have her only to himself, he needed money. Lots and lots of money. That wasn’t going to happen on his present income.

  Suddenly, she started seeking him again, sending rational thoughts flying out of his brain. They sought each other frenziedly. Hands, mouths, and other things seeking and finding. As he poured his strength into her, an idea formed.

                                                                                             V

Alhaji Jimoh picked up his mobile phone and called Joe Kala.

  Kala picked the call on the second ring. “Hello. Alhaji, how are you?”

  “Fine,” Alhaji replied. ” Joe, please meet me at the club tonight”.

  “What’s happening?!” Kala’s highly developed instincts for money were instantly aroused. Today was Tuesday. It was not a day for clubbing.

  “Don’t be alarmed,” Jimoh replied. “Just make sure that you’re at the club by 8 O’clock tonight”.

  “Okay.”

  Jimoh broke the connection.

  Kala walked into Club Tropicana five minutes before the appointed time. It was a weekday and there were very few patrons. He went straight to the back of the club. This area was reserved for the big spenders.

  In a private alcove, he saw Alhaji and three other people. He walked straight into the meeting and greeted all the familiar faces. Apart from Alhaji Jimoh, in attendance was Paul Jatto, Eya Samuel and Dan Fago. Kala noticed that they were all drinking designer bottled water. This was obviously a clandestine business meeting. A waiter was summoned and, Kala also ordered what the others were drinking. There was inconsequential chit-chat while the order was fulfilled.

  As the waiter walked towards the table with the order, all he could see were five obviously prosperous middle-aged men. What he couldn’t see was what their connection was. The five men were all high-volume foreign currency dealers. They all had very deep pockets and extensive lines of credit. Above all, they were all very shifty and greedy, with a highly developed appetite for other people’s money.

  The waiter delivered the order, pocketed his tip, and left as they watched him silently.

  Alhaji Jimoh looked at the expectant faces of his colleagues. “Gentlemen, let’s get started with the reason why we’re here.”

  The others shifted in their sits. Their attention is rapt.

  Jimoh nodded, then continued. “Gentlemen, the opportunity has risen, where we can all make a lot of money without any risks to ourselves.”

  Fago scoffed, “Anything to do with money always carries a risk, no matter how small.”

  The others agreed with grunts and nods.

  Jimoh smiled. He looked around at his colleagues. “If I say, no risk. I mean, no risk”.

  “Explain yourself,” Jatto said.

  The others agreed.

  “Good. I’m sure you all know InterCash Bank Limited.”

  They all nodded their assent. They were all its customers.

“Good,” Jimoh continued. “I’m sure you all know Kelvin Takato, its Island branch manager?”

  “Of course we all do. That larcenous bastard,” Samuel retorted.

  “It takes one, to know another,” Kala said derisively.

  “What’s that supposed to mean!?” Samuel turned on Kala angrily.

  “Gentlemen! Gentlemen! Please! We are not here to exchange insults,” implored Jimoh. “We are here to make money and, that is more important than how we feel about each other.”

  Everybody knew that Samuel and Kala hated each other. They both sheathed their swords for the greater good.

  “Takato called me yesterday and, made me a most interesting proposition,” said Jimoh.

  “What was it?” Fago asked.

  “Calm down,” said Jimoh. “Let me lay it all out for you.

  “This is how it goes.

  “According to Takato, his bosses on the board gave him a rather strange but, unsurprising job.”

  The others continued to listen with rapt attention.

  Jimoh continued, “Obviously, Takato’s bosses are in cahoots with some really big politicians. They need to move a hundred million dollars in foreign currency.”

  A wave of excitement ran through the meeting.

  Jimoh smiled. “Our own jobs, for which we will get a ten percent share of that princely sum, is just to act as instruments for its repatriation.”

  “Let me understand you,” Jatto said.

  “It’s very simple. We enter our bids for foreign currency allocation as we do every week. The only difference this time will be the volume, and the fact that we will not be meeting our local currency position ourselves. Takato will be doing this on our behalf.

    

  “Once we are given the allocations, we forward them to pre-determined destinations, less our ten percent service fee.”

  There was a murmur of excitement among the other men.

  Kala looked hard at Jimoh, “Jimoh! What’s the catch?”

  “There’s no catch,” replied Jimoh, smiling.

  The others were watching this exchange with rapt attention. Kala was asking a question that was on their minds.

  “Jimoh, you know that all of us at this table are the oldest, biggest and meanest dogs, in the foreign currency trading yard.

  “What you’ve just told us is too simple to be real.

  “I hope you’re not playing us? I’m sure you can appreciate how stupid and dangerous that will be.”

  Jimoh looked around the table without an amused grin. “Gentlemen, you all know that one of the reasons why we’ve all been so successful is because of our highly developed instincts for survival. Both in business and, in person.

  “It would be very foolish of me to try and play a fast one on all of you.

  “At first, I also had your concerns. However, the more I looked at the deal the more I liked it.

  “I’m always cautious about two issues in business.

  “First, is when my personal money is on the line. In this case, I’m not dropping a dime. So, I fear no financial loss.

  “Second, is when there’s the possibility that I may run afoul of the law. There’s nothing worth going to jail for. In this case, that doesn’t arise.

  “This is a win-win situation, there’s no other way to look at it.”

   Jimoh’s colleagues looked at each other, then Kala looked hard at Jimoh and said, “Jimoh, you know we’ve known each other for a long time. Why didn’t you do this deal alone? Why are you trying to bring us into it?”

   The other three businessmen were looking hard at Jimoh.

   “The reasons I brought you in are very simple,” said Jimoh.

  “First, the volume needed was too high. Such an amount going through one entity would have immediately raised eyebrows in the wrong quarters.

  “Second, they didn’t like the deal going through only one entity. There was too much chance of a misstep.”

  Samuel smiled. Then commenting sotto voce, “What’s to stop us borrowing the money for some time?”

  “Don’t even dream of trying it,” Jimoh said in an alarmed voice. “Have you forgotten the type of people our politicians are? They’ll pay for your bullet and, that of every blood relative of yours!”

  “I was only joking,” said Samuel.

  “Never joke about violent death and killers,” replied Jimoh.

  The meeting stretched far into the evening. In the end, each one of them resolved to play his part.

                                                                                    VI

Kelvin Takato was very pleased with himself. He had lived a life of scheming brilliance but, this time, he had to give himself a self-congratulatory doffing of the hat. With less than six million naira in seed money, he had engineered a scam that would yield him a hundred million dollars. He had used a little money and, lots of brains, to make himself six thousand times his investment. Not just that, it was also a ticket to a new and extremely prosperous life.

  As he leaned back in his executive chair, looking around at the Spartan functionality of his office; he reflected on the past three months. It’s almost over he thought to himself.

  He smiled. The answer to his problems had been staring him in the face all this time. All the same, he had had to move systematically and cautiously.

  The first step was to carefully sound out Seri. He had to be absolutely sure that she would be willing to run away with him. If she was unwilling to go away with him, the whole exercise would be pointless.

Seri neither refused nor gave her consent at first. However, when he told her that they would have about ten million dollars, one-tenth of the sum he was truly expecting; she became interested. She wanted to know where he would get such a large sum of money from. He said that he had made a killing in the international derivatives market. Despite this being an obvious lie, she believed him, because she loved him.

  In a week’s time, he would be in the air for destinations unknown with Seri. Of course, there would be an uproar and, a lot of heads will roll. That’s to be expected. He felt no pity for the scapegoats that will be left carrying the can of feces. Their greed and fear were what put them in the mess they would find themselves in. They should have known that ‘nothing begets nothing.

  There was a knock at the door. It opened and, his secretary came in accompanied by three other men. They brought out identification showing that they were operatives of the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission, the country’s ace anti-graft agency.

  Kelvin was stunned and speechless.

   In a stentorian voice, their leader addressed Kelvin. “Kelvin Takato, you are hereby under arrest for fraud and conspiracy to commit fraud. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say will be used against you in a court of law. You have a right to an attorney.”

  Kelvin was put in hand-cuffs and frog-marched out of the building.

                                                                                              VII

Kelvin knew that he was in a big mess the moment he was taken into custody, at the EFCC’s headquarters. Something had gone horribly wrong.

  As a suspect in white-collar crime, he had been allowed to keep his personals. The first thing he did was call his lawyer. Thereafter, he bluntly refused to say or write anything until she came. The EFCC detective in charge of the case left him in a bare, foul-smelling room. As the detective was leaving the room, he looked back at Kelvin and gave him a mocking smile. Then he slammed the door behind him.

  Paula Maku, Kelvin’s lawyer, was a diminutive woman. Despite her size and severe appearance, she had a very sharp mind. She had been Kelvin’s lawyer for the past seven years on a retainer basis. This was the first time she would be called into action on Kelvin’s behalf. She knew instinctively that this was a big case. Lawyers could smell this kind of thing, the way sharks smelt blood.

  Immediately she arrived at the EFCC’s headquarters, Paula was taken to the room Kelvin was kept. As soon as they were alone, she put a finger against her lips, indicating silence. She then systematically and professionally searched the almost bare room for listening devices. After satisfying herself that there were no eavesdroppers, she sat at the table opposite Kelvin. They leaned towards each other and spoke in whispers. A person standing a metre away from the table wouldn’t have heard what was being said.

  Kelvin was smart, he bared all to Paula. He knew that only her legendary skills could save him from doing a hard time. She was still to lose a case. In a few cases in which she had lost the decisions at the lower courts, she had won at the Supreme Court; therefore, they couldn’t be counted as losses.

  Paula listened patiently to Kelvin. Although it didn’t show on her face, she was absolutely stunned at the audacity and enormity of the scam. It was simple, yet brilliant in conception. As she listened, her highly logical mind was already seeing loopholes, technicalities, and safety nets.

  After Kelvin’s narration, she only asked one question. She wanted to know whether he had told her the truth and, he answered in the affirmative. She said that from what he had told her, she was almost sure she could get him acquitted.

  However, the first thing was that they had to find out what the authorities had on him. Then a defence strategy could be formed. The unavoidable downside was that he would never be employable in the finance industry again. She promised to come back the next day after going through the charges, thoroughly.

  After Paula left, Seri came in to see him. As was expected, she was extremely unhappy. The first thing she wanted to know was whether the trouble he was in, had anything to do with their plans to run away together. He lied by denying the connection completely. He told her that some people working under him had misappropriated some money and, as the manager, he was automatically pulled into the mess. He promised her that everything would soon be sorted out. She wanted to help in any way possible but he told her not to bother. Nevertheless, she transferred a huge sum of money into his account; money running into millions of naira.

                                                                                 VIII

Back to The Present Day     

The atmosphere in the correctional vehicle was now horrible. The lack of ventilation, heat, fear, and excretions, was making the ride to the courts a soul eroding experience.

  Kelvin had never felt so low in his life. He knew that many people will be at the courts waiting to witness his humiliation. He knew that apart from Seri, the vast majority would be people he had wronged in the past. People who would see his present travails as, a long-awaited nemesis. A lot of them would be waiting, gloatingly; their mobile phones poised to record his disgrace for posterity.

   Somehow the press had latched onto the story. He had no idea how this had happened. He knew that he was socially destroyed. His personality and integrity thrashed, forever. Only successful criminals are forgiven and embraced by society, not those who messed up. The game of life was playing the cards you were dealt. For those who are adept at the game, whining is not an option.

  After the initial shock of his arrest, Kelvin’s highly analytical brain kicked into high gear. His mind quickly separated the important from the trivia, the way a surgeon separates living tissue from dead tissue. Kelvin immediately knew that there had to be an insider who had turned traitor, in the conspiracy. This was confirmed when Paula’s informants within the police authorities named Gyo Bishi as the authorities’ star witness.

  Bishi! That bastard! He was shocked when Paula had told him that Bishi was the police’s star witness. He never would have believed that that mousy bastard could have the guts to become a turncoat. Well, he had planned that Bishi and some others take the fall for the fraud; it seems like he had been beaten to the punch. Nevertheless, there was no point crying over spilt milk.

  Paula had assured him that she would be able to get an acquittal, he didn’t doubt it. She was good, very good. But, he also knew that it was going to be a long and expensive process. Paula wasn’t cheap, her fees would run into millions. At the same time, his ability to earn will be greatly diminished, while expenses would remain high. All this had made up his mind for him.

The first thing was for him to regain his freedom. Seri had promised to take care of his bail issue. He didn’t doubt for once that she would do this. He needed the space to liquidate his physical assets and financial instruments. If he added their sale to the cash he had in hand, he should be able to have over a quarter of a million dollars. With his training and knowledge in financial matters, he was sure he would be able to start a new and prosperous life somewhere else.

  His only attachment was Seri and, despite his intense feelings for her, he had to let go of her. He would get in touch with her once he was settled in the new place. It would then be her choice whether to be with him or, not.   He would have to carefully research his destination options, then make a decision. He believed that would have to be somewhere in the Caribbean. The issue was where?  

  He would have to jump bail once it was posted. He knew that this would get Seri and whoever she lined up on his behalf in trouble but, this couldn’t be helped. He was a hundred percent sure she would sort it out effortlessly. He was sure that he wouldn’t be making an appearance during the next court date.

  Suddenly!!! Kelvin felt a tremendous force and, was slammed headfirst into the metal body of the correctional vehicle! He blacked out immediately. As he came into semi-consciousness, he had the perception of complete chaos. There was severe pain in his head and, a horrible ringing in his ears. He felt as if he was in a massive sea, made up only of sweaty arms and legs.

  Next thing, he felt himself being dragged out of the correctional vehicle onto the scalding, hot road. He managed to stand up on shaky legs, totally disoriented. The next thing he knew was that someone was screaming in his ears.

  “Run! Run!! Run for your life!! Run for your life!!!” The voice screamed into his ear.

  Instinctively, Kelvin started running. After the first few steps, his excellent brain kicked in. He stopped! Why was he running? He didn’t need to run. He needed to be in court. Liberty was in court, not by running!

  The unknown person kept screaming for him to run but, Kelvin ignored it. He sank to his knees, lay flat on his face; then placed his handcuffed hands on his head. He waited patiently for the police to come and pick him up.

  From where he lay on the road, he saw that the correctional vehicle had been rammed in the side by a bus. The prison vehicle was on its side and, its doors were hanging on its hinges. Most of the prisoners could be seen trying to make a run for it.

  Immediately, Kelvin rationalised what was happening. This is an attempted jailbreak! He cursed his rotten luck for being in such a situation. Well, he thought to himself, sooner or later; they would have to bring him in front of a judge. It was just a matter of…….

   After all the excitement and, the rounding up of the surviving suspects. Inspector Lati Siliki walked over to where Kelvin Takato lay. He took a close look at the rapidly cooling corpse. The back of Kelvin’s head had been blown away by the bullets. Siliki’s eyes narrowed in a hidden, sadistic smile. Takato didn’t need a doctor, he was as dead as a doornail.

                                                                                 IX

Chief Nabaga listened carefully to the message he was receiving from Lati Siliki on his mobile phone. He grunted his satisfaction and, cut the connection. He ordered his chief steward to bring him a bottle of chilled champagne.

  Chief Nabaga sat in a wing-backed chair in the sitting room of his palatial mansion in Billionaires Quarters. He savoured the chilled, sour-sweet liqueur his chief steward had brought him.

  Nabaga smiled.

  He had just eliminated a very dangerous enemy. The enemy this time wasn’t one in business or politics. This time, the enemy’s blade was aimed straight for his heart.

  He had always loved Seri. They’ve been together for over two years and, he had been slowly chipping away at her resistance to becoming his wife. He had cunningly stolen her from another man and, was determined to make her permanently his.  It didn’t matter that she would be wife number seven. She was going to be the jewel in his crown.

   Then, out of the blues comes this Takato character with his toothpaste smile and a six-pack. This bastard just swept her off her feet. She had spent millions on him. Millions of his own money. That pipsqueak was making a cuckold of him. Takato had simply committed suicide but, he was unaware of it.

  He had known about the relationship right from the beginning. He was a man who never left anything to chance. Every member of Seri’s domestic staff was on his payroll.

  At first, he was enraged that Seri was cheating on him. Then his common sense prevailed. If he had tried to impose on her, he would have lost her. The solution was to use cunning. Behind his back, he was known as the ‘demon-spider’. His machinations were never seen, only the results.

  Nabaga was a man who lived in war.  The very first step in war is the bone of contention. In other words, why are we fighting? Most people fight, without really knowing why they are fighting. As strange as it sounds, ninety-nine percent of contentious issues, when subjected to the unkind light of common sense; is thoughtless or, meaningless. 

  The second step in war is the proper identification of the enemy. This is a most crucial factor because, in most cases, the perceived enemy is just a proxy. Nabaga knew this very well because he was a past master of proxy warfare himself.

  The last step is knowing the enemy well. This involves information gathering – the knowing of everything that is possible to know about the enemy.

  Nabaga made absolutely sure that Seri didn’t know that he knew about the affair. To further allay her suspicions, he doubled his material liabilities to her. He simply inundated her in more wealth and, he forced himself to be more attentive, more loving.

  Within a few weeks, Nabaga knew everything there was to know about Takato. He ignored the positives and concentrated on the negatives. Takato was an intelligent man who misused it. Although he was adept enough as a political animal, he had serious character flaws. He was very greedy and, more importantly, and more damaging; he had the need to make unnecessary enemies of people he saw as his social inferiors. It was these two character flaws that were the instruments Nabaga used in bringing him down.

  Nabaga infiltrated Takato’s place of work intending to rope him into some kind of malfeasance. His subordinates would have given him up for free, even though they were heavily compensated for their betrayal. Takato’s subordinates feared and hated him with a passion. His downfall was guaranteed.

  Nabaga found out that he didn’t need to concoct any crime to rope Takato in. He did it himself.

  Takato’s plan was genius. The only flaw was that he needed people who hated him to actualise it.  All Nabaga did was infiltrate it and, direct it towards his downfall.

  Takato’s plan involved using funds in bank accounts that had been dormant for more than seven years as the domestic cash position, in foreign exchange transactions. He brought in known forex dealers but, stabbed them in the back by cloning their details.

  This was a highly sophisticated form of identity theft. The dealers were supposed to be left holding the can when the nickel dropped. The plan had only one flaw, it had to go through a banking system staffed by his enemies. The moment there was enough evidence, the rug was pulled out from under his feet. The authorities were informed and, Takato was taken into custody.

  Nabaga quickly ‘assisted’ by providing Seri with one hundred thousand dollars to help her favourite ‘cousin’ with his legal problem. He even promised to use his vast connections to influence the court process. It amused him to watch Seri’s gratitude and relief. She was extremely passionate that night. All this was to divert suspicion from his person.

  Takato was a dead man the moment he was taken into police custody. Nabaga was never going to allow him to appear in front of a judge. That would have meant liberty and, his whole plan would have unraveled.

  Takato’s assassination was actually the first part of the plan to be perfected. Nabaga had perfected this even before he was arrested. He had sat down with Lati Siliki and planned everything to the smallest detail. The bogus jailbreak, the personnel needed, who were the people to be in the van with him and, who and how the investigation would be conducted. All this to give Lati Siliki, Nabaga’s police assassin, the opportunity to blow off Takato’s head.

  Everything had worked out to perfection. The whole operation had been quite expensive, but it had amounted to a teardrop in the ocean of his immense wealth. At the moment, he was enjoying comforting Seri on the accidental killing of her ‘cousin’.

     Nabaga sipped the rich, chilled liqueur.

  Nabaga smiled.

                                                                                         X

A Few Months Later    

Seri was completely devastated by Kelvin’s death. She grieved long and hard. Nabaga comforted her and, was very supportive.

  A common mistake most people make when they see a beautiful woman is that, they automatically think she’s unintelligent. Nothing could be further from the truth. What is between a person’s ears, is completely unrelated to what’s between his or, her legs. A person's gender, looks, and intelligence are mutually exclusive.

  Despite her beauty, Seri was highly intelligent. She graduated with a first-class degree in psychology from the university. She was fluent in multiple languages and, learning new things was her hobby. After some time, she started thinking of how Kelvin had died. She smelled a rat.

She was immediately suspicious of everybody around her, especially Chief. She quietly began her own private investigations. Smartly, she didn’t change her habits or routine.

  All though she had no illusions about the kind of man Kelvin had been, she had loved him unconditionally. She believed that he didn’t need to have been killed like that. It was so unfair.

  Seri rationalised that the key to unraveling the truth about Kelvin’s death was to identify the person that had pulled the trigger of the gun that killed him.

  By using connections outside her social circle, she recruited the services of a former intelligence officer.  This was a man with extensive connections within the law enforcement and intelligence community. When she implored him about the need for absolute secrecy in his investigations, he felt insulted. She then waited patiently for his reports.

  Two weeks later, she met her private investigator. He gave her the blown-up headshot photographs of a man in police uniform. It was the photographs of the man who had killed the love of her life.

  Seri recognised Lati Siliki immediately! Although she had never seen him in uniform before, she had seen him many times with Chief. She recognised him as one of Chief’s boys.

Seri was instantly filled with a bitter hatred that concocted her beautiful face into a mask of temporary ugliness. Everything was immediately clear to her. Kelvin’s death had been staged. Everything had been a complete sham. The bogus jailbreak and, the ‘accidental’ shooting of prisoners that weren’t running had been staged.

  It was absolutely clear to Seri that Chief Nabaga had engineered Kelvin’s assassination. It was Nabaga who had murdered her darling. It was Nabaga that had caused her so much pain. Her soul craved revenge and, would have it. There had to be a reckoning. Life for life.

  Seri didn’t know how to carry out her revenge, yet. But, she was very sure that she would. She would definitely kill him after she had made him suffer.

  However, two things had to be taken into consideration in the present context. First, Nabaga must never know that she knew he killed Kelvin.

  Second, she knew that a dragon could not be killed with snake poison. However, it could be drowned in its own tears.

  Nabaga was the enemy, therefore she had to keep him very, very close to her. If it would necessitate her marrying him, so be it! His pride and joy were his first son and first grandson, he always refers to them as his legacy. Well, they were both not long for this world!!!  

  This was war and, it’s all in the game.