A Pawn on the chess board

Ruti, perplexed and fast sinking in disbelief, stood in the small living quarters of the garage in front of the television early in the morning. A picture of Mateo was displayed on the TV as the newscaster announced, "Now, in our developing story: the police have identified the man who played hostage during the robbery at EMC Bank as Mateo Becho. A key witness and hostage revealed that the Becho was in fact a mastermind. It has been revealed that Becho, while acting together with his cohorts, killed six bank personnel and a security officer. The bank officials have confirmed that the bandits walked away with $2.3m in cash and precious stones & minerals estimated at $29m. The police are asking anyone with information of the where abouts of Becho to report to come forward. Half a million will be given as a reward."

Ruti turned the television off and stealthily reached for the medium shifting spanner. She tip toed to the small wooden bed where Mateo laid. As he groaned and stretched, waking up, Ruti had towered over his body that was only covered in a boxer short and bandages that ran around his abdomen.

Ruti raised her hand, ready to hut Mateo, "You're one of the bastards that killed innocent people. It's either I kill you or handle you over to the police."

Mateo kept quiet. He had been on anesthetic for most parts of his three- days stay at Ruti's. He was unconscious almost during the entire period. He barely had a string of thought at the back of his head. Yet Ruti pressed for feedback. "I don't have the whole day."

Mateo sighed and pulled himself to a sitting position. He looked at Ruti as he gathered his thoughts. "How long have I been out?" Ruti chuckled, almost incensed with disgust, "You're sick. Ain't you? I can't believe you."

Mateo composed himself, "Was I a part of robbery, yes. Was I the mastermind, no. Did I kill anyone, no. Look, I never shed an ounce of blood. Think of me as a pawn on the chess board. I was used, left for dead and here I'm playing fugitive."

Ruti stared at Mateo. Wrinkles ran on her face. "whoever taught you how to lie, did a pathetic job." He exhaled heavily and voiced out, "I never wanted any of this. I just wanted a bit more flesh on my social and economic being. Of course, I'm guilty of being a robber but not that."

"Am calling the police." Ruti rang out a stern warning. "Am tired of running. I've been running from being broke. I've been running from death itself. I've been running from failures as a father and husband. I'm tired. So, hit me with that damn thing if you so wish. Help me rest."

Ruti sat at the end of the bed. She looked the other way and probed, "You know that keeping you here is a crime?"

Mateo nodded, "Yes. You have done a lot for me already. And am grateful."

"What is my gain?" Ruti asked.

Mateo entertained a moment of silence. For a second, it was as though he was never there. Then he spoke, "Am just a man running from shadows. There's literally nothing I can offer you."

Ruti nodded with a great of vehemence, "Alright. Alright. You can stay. Clean an keep it low until the noise dies down."

"Thank you," Mateo replied.

Meanwhile, in the cool of the evening, Crystal and Deacon convened at their hideout, in the comfort of the five- star hotel suite. The former sat on the bed while the latter took his place on the chair by the window. A small table, on whose plateau stood a bottle of champagne and two glasses. Serge leaned forward, opened the bottle and poured its content in the glasses. "Once the dust settles a bit, our guy has agreed to buy the stones and jewelries," he mentioned. "My worry is how do we clean the money up? Run me through the laundering."

"Basically, there three stages of money laundering," Crystal picked her glass and took in a few sips. "Placement. Layering. Integration. I propose we open a number of accounts with different banks abroad Also, we use some of it at the casinos. We can also buy off small businesses that are seemingly viable. We trade in foreign markets, buy and sell assets. And of course, we plough back the money into circulation." Crystal raised her glass, "We are good to go."

Deacon sunk back in the chair and gnashed his teeth, "That is not easy, is it?"

"No babe. But we will pull it." Crystal assured.

Crystal stood up and unbuttoned her shirt. She slid it down her shoulders and let it fell to the floor. She cat- walked to Deacon and sat on his laps, reached for his lips and kissed him. He, however, was lost in deep thought, "What about the boys? They need help cleaning up."

Crystal slid beneath his chin and kissed the neck. "We are a team. As long as I remain the Pope, we will all wash our dough clean. Just advise them to hold their horses on spending." Deacon nodded and held Crystal close to herself. "Are you continuing with your job?"

"It's hard," Crystal answered. "But I need to see my current contract off after the leave management gave me. Just so I suppress suspicions."

"Same branch?" He wondered.

"No babe. I was transferred to HQ after the incidence." Crystal answered.

Deacon nodded and provoked further discussion, "We need a go at the HQ."

Crystal chuckled mildly and gently tapped Deacon's nose, "You're sick."

"I know." Deacon replied with half a smile on his face.

The duo sat in a warm embrace. No more words were uttered. But the clasp they engaged in spoke a thousand words about their bond. The scene was that of a match made in heaven. Or was it? Was the money, jewelries and stones a cherry on what they had? Or it was all they really had?