Evening With Eva Season 3 Episode 2



Previously On Evening With Eva.

“I said, did that hurt?” He said to Ahmed menacingly.

Ahmed nodded slowly.

“Good boy. Because what you just experienced is nothing compared to what is going to happen to you

The General strode out of the room gallantly. He smiled as he approached Ahmed.

“How are you boy?”

“please sir, have mercy.” Ahmed begged.

“I am sorry but that word does not exist in my dictionary. I need to send your Uncle a souvenir.” The General said and continued,

“Then I am going to take off every toe, every finger, pluck out your eyes, your tongue and dismember you gradually till you die. Now which toe do I send to your Uncle?” The General threatened, bringing out a huge sharp plier.

“I think I will just take the two big toes. Don’t worry boy, I am quite skilled at this.” The General finished.

Ahmed wet his pants. The General did not let that affect him. He cut off Ahmed’s big toes in swift snaps of the plier. Blood poured from the wounds. Ahmed shrieked in pain. The General’s black shirt was stained with blood. He kept the cut toes on the floor.

“Now, to the main course.” The General said, snapping the plier in the air.

Ahmed’s cries and shrieks pierced the air and went through the hallways. No one would hear him. No one would help him. The General left him barely alive and exited the room with his exhibits. He planned to send them to The Colonel later. Ahmed was breathing very slowly. His heart gradually gave way. He died a slow and painful death.



The Colonel paced the Hotel room, deep in thought. He was upset, angry but not disoriented. His original impulse was to react immediately. Follow the trail Ahmed had laid down and eventually catch up with the abductors.

He had seriously been contemplating taking rash action when he got a delivery. It was a small pocket sized package with no posting address.

“Who sent this?” The Colonel asked the delivery boy.

“I have no idea. My job is to deliver what I am given. Please sign here sir.” The delivery boy replied.

The Colonel acknowledged receipt and locked the door as the boy left. He scrutinized the parcel wrapped in a pretty blue foil. He was wary. He did not know what it was. Could it be a bomb? He held the package close to his ears, expecting the ticking sound of a countdown timer. He heard nothing. As he turned the parcel around trying to ascertain the contents, something caught his eye.

He saw a very faint black ink. It looked like some form of hurriedly scribbled words. Or carefully concealed information. He got his magnifying glasses and read the scribbled information on the bottom right of the parcel:

“ отмщению ”

“Payback” in Russian.

Only one person knew ever used that with him, The General. Immediately, he feared the worst. He quickly tore the parcel open. What he saw broke his heart into a million shreds.

The toes, eyes and heart of Ahmed were neatly arranged inside the parcel. He fell on the chair, holding the parcel in his hands. He could not believe his eyes. Ahmed was dead. He felt like opening fire on the Corporation.

He had had enough. First it was his only son. And now, the just took Ahmed. He was done running. He was done playing nice. He was done being the victim. He made up his mind. They had taken too much from him. Marcus was going to pay.

As he remembered all the loss he had suffered from the hands of the Corporation, anger got the better of him. He dropped the parcel on the table in front of him, got up suddenly and screamed at the top of his lungs.


With clenched fist and his teeth gnashing, he walked forwards and punched the concrete walls until his fists bled and the pain became unbearable. Tears fell freely from his eyes. Breathing heavily, his chest heaving, he walked dejectedly back to the couch and sat.

He held his head in his bloodied hands. He had to do something. He knew the General was expecting a reaction from him. The General knew everything about him. The General taught him many of the things he knew. There would eventually be a face-off but when? He continued to think, raking his brain for any possible subtlety that Marcus would not see coming.

He found it hard to think. Anger, pain and sadness made it difficult for him to plan a proper course of action. He decided to take a nap. As he lay on the couch, his eyes fell on Ahmed’s newspaper clippings on the wall. He began to feel bad all over again. He turned on the couch, facing the west wall away from the newspaper clippings.

Suddenly, there was a glint in his eyes. He had a brain wave. The sadness in his eyes immediately disappeared and was replaced by excitement and anticipation.

He got up from the chair and went to the newspaper clippings on the wall. He had never given much thought about Ahmed’s obsession with finding a mystery killer. For all he cared, The Colonel believed that the slain political officers were greedy criminals who deserved their fate.

But now, as he studied the clippings he came to a shocking realization. Ahmed’s work was actually his ticket to finishing off the Corporation. He studied the patterns Ahmed had drawn, improved on the inferences already suggested and connected the dots Ahmed had failed to see.

He made calls and begged old friends for favors and access into surveillance archives. The Colonel traced calls, decrypted emails and intercepted a few.

With each passing hour, he got closer and closer to finding the target. He worked like a maniac, working the phones, asking for favors, eliminating possibilities. He followed up on past leads and made reasonable progress.

Ten hours later, he was done. Cans of Coca-Cola littered the room. He now had eight different images on the screen of the computer that he had been working with . One of the images in the mix shocked him. He could not believe what he saw.

He took his phone and dialed a number.

“Frankenstein. Its Da Vinci.” The Colonel said.

“You promised never to contact me again.” Frankenstein replied with a cold voice from the end of the line.

“Frank, you know I would never come to you if it was not a matter of immediate attention. My nephew is dead.” The Colonel said.

“What can I do?” Frank asked

“Remember those blueprints of the Ghosts organization I gave you six years ago?” The Colonel asked

“What about it?” Frank said

“I know what a curious mind you have my friend. I intentionally sparked your curiosity when I handed you that chip years ago. I gave you very skinny details just to whet your appetite. Although you showed no signs, I was very sure you would dig. I know you have done extensive work on that Chip. I want to collect Frank.” The Colonel said.

Seconds went by. Silence. No reply from the other end. This was a battle of wits. Whoever speaks first concedes defeat.

Thirteen seconds later, Frank spoke.

“You had me bugged?”

“No my good friend. I had my chip bugged. I need to collect immediately. How do I get it?” The Colonel asked impatiently.

“I am going to deliver the Chip to you tonight. Here is your passkey. Alpha Alpha Singleton Open Zigabyte zero”

“Thanks Frank. Now we are even.” The Colonel said.

“If you contact me again Da Vinci, the next time you wake up will be in hell.” Frank replied

And the line went dead. The Colonel knew that Frankenstein did not threaten. He promised. He copied out the passkey that he had just been given


He scribbled the passkey and transcribed:

A A 1 O Z 0.

The Zero meant he had to take the passkey from the back so he wrote the key

0 Z O 1 A A.

He folded the paper he wrote the key on, putting it in the inner pocket of his jean. He took one last look at his laptop and shook his head.

The pictures of Eva, Sark, Max, Sophia, Tawo, Shina, Ambrose and the General starred him in the face. He typed a code to initiate the self-destruct option to permanently wipe away all the contents of his computer.

When that was done he took down the newspaper clippings, burning them in a small tray. He had everything he needed. He carried his knapsack and stepped out the hotel.

Eva and Sark sat on the Veranda of the penthouse. They had been talking the whole day. They spoke about their missions, their fears, what they had been through, how they felt about the killings. They bonded. They took a break in the afternoon to have lunch and go at each other again. It was more explosive this time as they now had more intensity between them.

Eva’s head was on Sark’s chest. Her fingers were picking the smooth hair on his chest. He caressed the hair on her head. None of them spoke but the chemistry between them was evident. Sark wondered why he was so comfortable with her.

“when do you think all this would end?” Eva asked out of the blues.

“When would what end?” Sarj asked feigning innocence.

“Go jor. You know what I am talking about. The Corporation. Will we work for them forever? I don’t know about you but I think I am tired of killing people. It used to be fun. But now, I’m not just into it anymore.” Eva lamented.

“It is what we signed up for. We have no choice. Are you ready to live the rest of your life on the run? Constantly watching your back? Afraid of even your shadow? The food you eat? The next person beside you? Is that what you want? Sark asked.

“I don’t know. I just…” Eva started but was interrupted by the doorbell.

“Did you call for room service?” Eva asked as the ringing continued.

“No I didn’t. Let me see what they want.” Sark said, kissing Eva lightly on the forehead.

Dressed in only his boxer shorts, he walked to the door and peeped in the keyhole. He saw a man in his early forties looking away from the door. He wondered what the man wanted. He looked very harmless.

Sark opened the door.

“Yes, is there something I can help you with?” he asked.

The Colonel launched a fierce and powerful kick to Sark’s ribcage. Sark spiraled to the floor, holding his stomach. He was not expecting such.

Eva heard the crash and ran into the sitting room. As she entered, the Colonel brought out two .45 semi-automatic silenced pistols from his hip and pointed them, one at Eva and one at Sark on the floor.

“Dad?” Eva said recognizing the man whom she had only seen in pictures.

“Hello Eva. Our family reunion is long overdue.”

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