Previously On Evening With Eva..
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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“Dad? Is this really you?” Eva asked moving close to her father.
She did not mind the gun that was now pointed at her temple. She had shock and surprise written all over her face as she walked towards her father.
“Stay where you are Eva. We don’t want to have ourselves a blood bath.” The Colonel replied not taking his eyes off Sark who was still on the floor.
Without turning, the Colonel kicked the door close with his left leg. With the sides of his eyes he kept an eye on Sark and saw his daughter moving closer. He gauged the distance between Eva and him. He fired a shot.
The bullet shattered the bottle of Vodka on the table close to Eva. It was a precise shot.
With his eyes still on Sark, he barked:
“I said don’t fucckking move girl!”
Eva froze in her steps. If this man could take such a shot, she did not want to experience what it would feel like if he actually aimed at her. She stopped. The look she saw in his eyes was one she had never seen before.
His eyes were very red. His face was expressionless. But somehow she was able to connect with his countenance. And what she saw there scared her. Her father was hurting. Her father was desperate. Her father wanted blood.
“You, get up.” He said to Sark waving the gun at him and directing him towards Eva.
Sark crawled up from the ground, backing away from him. He walked backward hitting his legs against the couch. He was now side by side with Eva now.
“What do you want?” Sark finally asked.
He now realized that whoever this man was he needed something. And he would not get it if he killed any of them. Then he had heard Eva call him dad. He would get back to that much later but first, he needed to know why this man had burst into their privacy and threatened them.
The Colonel turned and had them sit on the couch. He faced them and sat on the couch directly opposite them, aiming the guns at both foreheads.
“I am sure you are wondering why I am here and what I want. I am going to make it very simple. I want to talk. Just talk. I want to drop my guns now. But don’t go having any ideas.” The Colonel said.
As he finished he nodded at their chests and they both looked at their chests at the same time. There was a tiny red infra-red target marker on their chests. They looked up at the Colonel.
The Colonel smiled
“I brought a few friends, just in case things got, you know, a little bit out of control. You know how stubborn you children usually are.” He said and continued.
“But trust me; none of you will leave this room alive if you decide to act funny. All I ask is that you just listen to me. Give me a few minutes. Listen to what I have to say. And if you don’t like it, I walk out. And I will never bother you again. That simple.” The Colonel said.
He pressed the cartridge release buttons on both guns and the cartridges containing the bullets fell to the ground.
“You see? No guns from me. Now, hear what I have to say.” The Colonel said.
Ambrose got to Nsawam at exactly 12:30pm the day before he was to resume in the SPPS. He wanted a feel of the environment, acclimatize to the weather and maybe find one or two hotspots to cool off after a hectic day.
He decided against a taxi and took a train instead, “chai, this yeye train dey accra, hmmmmm”. He sighted and got on the train checked with the mate and dumped his luggage in the upper space above his seat
He got the window seat which he always loved because it granted him ample view of the lush scenery wherever he went. The speakers above his head came alive and it was announced that the train was about to move and the journey would take twenty minutes.
He shifted in his chair, making himself more comfortable. There was no one beside him. He closed his eyes, desperate for a quick nap.
After seven minutes he opened his eyes. He could not sleep. He felt uneasy. His stomach rumbled. He got up and made for the toilet.
Just then a man who sat three seats behind him got up too. He was slim, six feet tall and wore glasses. He wore a tailored three piece suit and had a gun inside his inner bosom pocket. He walked slowly the same way Ambrose went, towards the toilet.
As Ambrose closed the door behind him, he quickly put his ears by the toilet door, listening for footsteps. One of the rules for every spy was, “Always Study Your Environment.” Immediately Ambrose entered the train and sat down, he noticed the man in the three piece suit come in after him,
He could feel the man’s gaze on him. He knew something was not right. Another part of him told him he might just be over reacting. He drew the conclusion that he had to be careful.
However, now the footsteps drew closer. He now had no doubts in his mind that this was the same man. The footsteps were calculated, slow and precise. They were ordered. He moved away from the door and waited. There were three cubicles in the bus. He was in the last one.
The footsteps stopped and a door opened. Ambrose guessed it was the first cubicle. He was not too sure. He hated being unsure. So, he made a deep sound as if he was having trouble getting his business done. He waited. A door shut and the footsteps came again. Slow, calculating and precise.
He approximated the distance from the first cubicle to the next. The second cubicle was open so if he was a man in need of a poo, the footsteps would stop. But it didn’t. The footsteps continued and stopped at his door.
Ambrose groaned again for effect. He was facing the door preparing for the worst. He looked around the toilet and the only thing he could see was a towel. He took it and folded it in two. The door had a tiny knob with no key hole. Even air would have a hard time peeping through.
The knob turned and the door opened outwards.
Ambrose kicked the door with all the strength he could muster. The door hit the man on his face and the gun fell off his hand. Ambrose rushed towards him before the man could regain his composure. He rained blows on the man’s face and upper body.
He tied the towel around the man’s neck, shutting the air out of him. The man gasped for breath. Ambrose dragged him into the toilet and put his head by the window. The train was moving very fast. Trees and forests were everywhere. There was a tunnel coming up in the far distance. In a matter of seconds, the man’s body would be headless if not dragged back into the train.
“Who sent you?!!!” Ambrose barked, pinning the man’s legs to the wall, his head and shoulders outside the window. He strangled the man tighter. The man coughed. He did not reply.
“I said, who sent you!?” Ambrose shouted again punching the man in the face.
The tunnel was visible now. If Ambrose did not drag the man inside, the man would die. He would not have any clue about who sent him. He decided to let the man die.
“You brought this on yourself.” Ambrose said pushing the man’s body farther out.
The man got this strength from nowhere, freed his legs and hit Ambrose’s groin with his knee cap. He felt the choking hold on his neck loosen, so he punched Ambrose on the face and quickly pulled himself back into the toilet. Immediately, the train entered the tunnel.
Both men panted and looked at each other with cold stares.
The man was first to speak.
“My name is Special Agent Ken. You just passed your interview.” The man said panting and bringing out a badge from his pocket. He threw it at Ambrose. Ambrose ran his hands through the gold crest of the elephants on his badge. It was genuine.
“What interview?” Ambrose asked.
“What you had at the Capitol was just a courtesy visit. This WAS the interview.” Special Agent Ken replied.
“One of us could have been killed! What sort of crazy people am I working with?” Ambrose said, standing up. The man got up too.
“This is my job. I have been interviewing members for the SPPS for eight years. Let’s just say, I like to gamble with my life.” Agent Ken said.
Ambrose was about to retort when the speakers above them came alive.
“We have two minutes before we reach Accra. Please get ready.”
“Time to go.” Agent Ken said.
They cleaned up themselves and went back to their seats.
“What have I gotten myself into?” Ambrose wondered.
As they got off the train he got a message on his phone.
“Code Red. Abort Mission.”
It was from Sophia.
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