Eighty-Two

Effe runs to her room and shuts the door.

She takes faltering steps forward and collapses on the floor in front of her bed.

No, no, no!

This can't be happening!

Elaine had lied!

Chris hadn't raped her!

Everything she believed about Chris that had made her hate him so has now come tumbling around her feet. The basic ingredients of trust and belief have never found a way into her heart in her relationship with him. She had always believed others over him, always expected the worst of him…to the extent that she had almost led the prosecution against him, and if it hadn't been for Junior, he would've been in prison for now, to serve twenty-five years.

Her pain knows no bounds; her heart is being torn out of her chest.

And now!

Elaine had caused her to throw Chris out of her life, at the particular moment he had received a video from a dead brother he adored, a most terrible video that had torn him apart! And Chris had gone amok, beating up his sadistic and wicked uncle, and taking up the blame for Afful's accident so that he could go to prison and get away from his pains!

The time he needed her most, she had cast him to the wolves!

Not once, not twice, but throughout her life with him!

"Oh, Chris-Love! Forgive me! I'm so sorry, my love!" she wails, the pain simply tearing her heart apart.

Tears drench her.

Effe weeps as memories come flooding back.

Chris…her Chris-Love!

Life had dealt him a cruel hand, but he had stood against the storms, and loved her through all her doubts and mistrust.

"I never believed you, Chris. I was so mean to you. But not anymore! May God heal you and Junior and bring you back to me," she says sadly. "Oh, I'm going to spend the rest of my life making you happy, Chris-Love. Nothing is ever going to separate me from you ever again. I promise you. I love you, Chris, always have, always will… till eternity!"

***

The blinds are drawn.

There are no lights on the outside of the incredibly luxurious house.

It is pitch black, and there is no indication that there are people in the house.

However, deep within the confines of the beautiful house, inside an air-conditioned room, four men are in an uneasy conference.

It is evident that they are very agitated and on edge.

Two of them are even sweating, although the room is chilled with the silent air-conditioner.

There is a single shaded light on a desk in the corner.

Sergeant McBaiden is lying on a deep sofa with an arm thrown across his face.

Jonathan Afful is sitting at the desk, busily transferring funds from various accounts to a particular off-shore account on his laptop.

Curtis, acutely agitated, is standing at the window making a call.

Steve Hollison is packing cocaine in huge transparent rubber packets into a briefcase.

Steve and Afful are dressed in suits, whilst Curtis and McBaiden are in police uniforms.

Curtis cuts the call and turns to look at them.

There is a look of sheer malice and disgust on his face.

"Alright, the arrangements have been made. King Shapiro just told me a driver called Joe Gharbin will come for us," Curtis says. "He'll take us to a safe house in Togo, and tomorrow a private jet will take us to South Africa. Two days from today we'll be in Australia."

For the first time in about two days McBaiden smiles with relief.

"Now that is what I call good news," Afful says.

"And when is this Gharbin guy rolling in?" Steve asks anxiously. "Every second wasted is precious, you know. Warrants for our arrests could be issued any time."

"Yeah, you're right. But all that could've been fucking avoided if you assholes had stopped fucking Chinese asses and concentrated on that damn Elaine shit!" Curtis says savagely.

"Watch your damn mouth, you bastard!" Afful says angrily. "It's my wife you're talking about!"

"And it's your fucking wife who put us in this shit in the first place, which wouldn't have happened if you had kept a damn leash on her!" Curtis retorts savagely.

"Come on, guys!" McBaiden breaks in, his voice placating. "You all knew the shit was bound to hit the fan the moment that Bawa asshole left prison early. The milk is already spilt. Let's just get out of here whilst we still have the time!"

Curtis sighs deeply and strains for calm.

"Right," Curtis says resignedly. "The car will be here in thirty minutes. You guys get your shit together!"

They get up, and begin to gather personal effects.

Afful shuts down his computer, packs it into its bag and then picks his phone.

He dials Elaine's number and is waiting for the phone to ring when suddenly Curtis descends on him.

Curtis knocks the phone out of Afful's hand and steps on it with his heavy boot, cracking the screen.

Afful shouts and pushes Curtis back furiously.

"What the fuck is the matter with you?" he bellows furiously. "That's a fucking Supreme Goldstriker fucking iPhone 6G you fucking fucking stupid fuck!"

"Shut the fuck up, man!" Curtis snaps. "The cops would've put a trace on your bloody phone by now! They're probably in your house now as we speak, waiting for you to call your wife! Is seventy years in prison better than your fucking Goldfuck of a phone?"

"You stupid fuck!" Afful screams.

He bends and picks up the phone.

They are all on edge as they wait, and forty minutes later Curtis's phone rings.

He picks the call.

"Hello?" Curtis says carefully.

"I'm Joe Gharbin. The King sent me. You have exactly five minutes, and then I'm gone."

The phone goes dead.

"The carrier is here. Let's get the fuck outta here!" Curtis says.

Quickly they leave Steve's house.

When they get outside there is a sleek black S-Class Mercedes parked in front of the house, and a huge, tall man in an all-black attire leaning against it.

Steve locks the mechanical gates of the house, and they move towards the man.

"Let's get the hell out of here, man!" Curtis says.

The man moves from the car, and Curtis notices suddenly that there is a gun in his hand.

He cries out a warning and goes for his gun, but suddenly giant lights come on in the darkness, blinding them, and immediately a lot of huge, heavily-armed policemen in operation fatigues materialize out of the darkness.

Their assault rifles are aimed on the four men.

The tall man leaning against the car steps forward, and his face is grim as he looks at them.

"You're surrounded by a combined team of the army and police, you assholes," Gharbin says calmly. "Anyone so much as sneezes and we'll blast you all to hell!"

McBaiden whimpers and almost collapses with fear. The briefcase drops from Steve's nerveless hands because he is trembling so hard and can barely stand straight. Afful, frightened by the huge armed men, drops to his knees and raises his hands.

Only Curtis remains solid, his eyes darting everywhere as he assesses the risks.

"Don't even try it, Curtis! Believe me, I'll kill you where you stand if you give me the tiniest of reasons," Gharbin says, his voice sharper.

"I'm a policeman, you –" Curtis begins.

Joe Gharbin cuts in contemptuously.

"Oh, spare me that drivel! I'm Chief Inspector Joe Gharbin. For your information we received recorded tapes from a man called Darlett Thompson. Name sounds familiar to you?"

The four men wince with dread, and Joe Gharbin nods his head.

"I see you knew Darlett. Based on the information on his tapes, we were able to arrest the lord, King Shapiro. He set up this operation from our cells. We know all your operations," Gharbin continues. "You're being arrested on charges as long as the Nile River, assholes. From drug trafficking, the murder of Darlett Thompson, the framing of Mr. Chris Bawa, his torture in prison, you name it. Mr. Jonathan Afful, you're also being arrested for drug trafficking, drunk driving leading to personal harm to a human, murder of Darlett Thompson, and the list goes on. Mr. Steve Hollison, for being part of the biggest drug cartel in Africa, you're also being arrested. You guys are going to prison for a fucking long time! Cuff them, guys!"

The policemen move forward.

One of them opens Steve's briefcase and displays the huge quantities of cocaine.

Joe Gharbin steps forward suddenly and delivers a savage blow to Curtis's midsection.

It makes Curtis cough and gag, and he falls to his knees and vomits instantly.

"You disgust me! You're a disgrace to that uniform, motherfucker! Get them out of my sight!" Joe Gharbin says.