Chasing the wind

Flashing disco lights beamed randomly in different colors and directions. Loud music popped through big speakers. Patrons on their feet sang along and danced the night away as they drunk their beers. It was at the most prestigious night club in town. And Wayne, inebriated as it were, took to the dance floor with three girls. He was the big boy now. Everyone knew him. Girls literally licked his boots just so they could be with him in the VIP lounge of the night clubs and liquor stores.

The night was far spent – it was time for Wayne and his female trio to call it a day. The bill was served to him, and he fetched his debit card from his wallet that housed only a couple of dollars. "POS!" he yelled. The waiter bowed and walked away quickly. she came back with the Point-of-sale machine and handed it over to Wayne. He tapped his card on the machine, but the transaction declined. "Declined, sir." The Waiter advised. "Insert it in the machine!" Wayne ordered. "I have a lot of money. Something should be wrong with the machine." The waiter inserted the card and handed it over to him for the pin. He quickly dialed his secret pin, but the transaction declined still. Concerned, Wayne wondered, "How? I mean why?" He thus drew his phone from his Jacket's pocket. The phone showed that he had twenty- three unread messages. He opened the messages, and he could not believe his eyes. Three messages were debit notices from his bank. He quickly scrolled down to the last message and behold; his bank balance was -$13. He was in overdraft. "What's going on?" he sunk in the beautiful and comfortable couch. Sweat perforated through his skin's pores.

At the five- star hotel, Deacon and Crystal cuddled after a steamy episode of intimacy. The phone, placed on the side table by the bed, rang. It was Deacon's. Wayne was calling. The robbery Kingpin reached for the device and answered, "Hey man. What's up?" Deacon sat up as he listened to his cohort. A moment later, he took a deep breath and made an order, "text me their account number. Go home and rest, we will sort out the issue as soon as dawn breaks."

Deacon removed the phone from his ear and announced to Crystal who looked at him with great concern. "Wayne's account has been hit. He is in negative." She sat up and wondered, "how?" Deacon shook his head and replied, "We will find out soon. He's currently detained at the night club. He has not paid for the drinks." A text message popped up on Deacon's phone. He quickly raced his fingers on thereon and mumbled to himself, "And… sent." He looked at Crystal and instructed, "Please check the bank accounts, just in case." Crystal reached for her phone and quickly dialed several short codes thereon. Deacon demanded impatiently, "talk to me." Crystal dialed a few more short codes and guided, "we are okay, babe." Deacon took a deep breath, "all twelve of them?" Crystal nodded confidently, "Yes. All twelve bank accounts are intact. We are okay." Deacon wrapped his hand around her, and the couple busked in a moment of silence.

The night scrolled away, and the sun was smiling on the earth again. Wayne and Deacon sat in the Manager's office PW Bank. They glued their eyes on the relatively young man who announced. "You're a big spender Mr. Johnson (known as Wayne). Just yesterday, you bought a Yacht worth $1.3m in paradise island. Your statement also shows that you acquired a house in London at a whooping premium $2.1m and lastly, you paid about half a million for shares in an oil company in Nigeria." The manager handed Wayne the bank statement, "these transfers were electronic. It's all there on the statement." Wayne sunk back in disbelief. "How?! I never bought any damn yacht or whatever." The manager raised his shoulders up and dropped them quickly, "You are the best person to answer that 'how' sir. The bank system uses a two-step verification process. A code is sent to your phone that you input on the bank's website."

Deacon's phone rang. Crystal was calling. He picked the call and glued the handset to the ear, "Hey." A few seconds went by without Deacon making any more utterances. He removed the phone from his ear and looked at Wayne. "We have a problem." He announced, "We've been hit too. Let's go." The two men stood up and rushed out of the bank manager's office, much to the disbelief of the man behind the desk. Outside, the bank Deacon and Wayne got into their respective cars and raced off.

Moments later, Deacon stood by the window of the old, abandoned building, while Wayne sat on a dusty table. The former was a phone on the phone call with Crystal. It was rather long, and Deacon did most of the listening. Car engines roared outside but for a moment. Christian and Sam walked in the room with quick steps. Deacon nodded a few more times and remarked, "Alright." He hung up and walked to the table were his gang had clustered. Sam, visibly shaken, announced, "My money is gone." The trio turned and looked at Christian. "What about you?" Wayne asked him. Christian checked his account and confirmed, "Am still okay." Deacon took a deep breath and spoke to his men, "Listen up. We're chasing the wind. Pope has checked all our accounts with the help the ICT team. All the purchases were made on a local IP address. The websites we 'bought' whatever from never exist. The bigger problem is that the monies were sent to cloned accounts."

Christian wondered, "what does that even mean?" A moment of silence went by before Deacon replied, "There's a system called mirage. That's what whoever hit us used. We can feel the impact of their deeds, but we can hardly trace them. The authorities cannot even buy our stories. To them, we spent the money, period." Sam shook his head, "damn. Fuck!"

Christian's phone vibrated three times in a row. He took out the phone and the debit messages from his bank glared back at him. He had just spent $1.5m on a G- wagon limited edition, $3.8m on a bare private island in the Maldives and the remaining $0.921 m on a bar of gold at an auction in London. "I have been hit." He spoke softly. Wayne paced around in the room, "Becho." He yelled, "I told you that motherfucker is alive and he's now messing with us…"

"Becho is dead!" Deacon interrupted. "It could be anyone messing with us, even the fucking Pope! Who knows? Whoever it is, I swear I will find them, make them vomit every penny they've stole from us before I bury the sucker alive." Sam waved his hands gently and spoke gently, "Calm down. All of you. We need cool heads. Okay?" The trio chorused consent albeit hesitantly, "Okay." The men stood quietly looking at each other. They wondered how the hell someone managed to sweep their accounts clean in less than a day.

And while Deacon and his cohorts sunk deep in thought, Mateo stood in the back of Ruti's van with a beer in one hand and his old laptop in the other raised to the skies. Ruti pulled herself from beneath a vehicle she was working on. She quickly wore on a smile the moment she saw Mateo pose like an Olympic gold winner. "We've done!" He announced with glee. "We've got the money." Ruti sat and nursed tears of joy. Mateo kept the two items high to the skies and he stared at the far extending heavens. Tears burnt in his eyes. Every drop thereof spoke of joy and satisfaction.