Chapter 20 – Gwagwalada Protocol

Outskirts of Gwagwalada, Abuja Sector — 2:45 A.M.

The road was quiet — too quiet for a city fringe known for bustling late-night truck traffic and buzzing roadside vendors. Every movement in the shadows felt rehearsed, like a stage set before the curtain rose.

Tunde, Arewa, Glyph, and Alero sat in a stolen NDLEC patrol vehicle, their faces lit by the soft glow of tactical HUDs embedded in their visors.

The Gwagwalada Biogen Facility loomed in the distance — a sterile cube of steel and chrome fencing, posing as a public vaccine manufacturing center. But Glyph's decrypted chip had revealed the truth: the lower levels held clinical chambers where human testing was still ongoing, and worse, encrypted flight logs showed shipments out of the country... to Europe, the UAE, and Shanghai.

"This is no longer just about Nigeria," Arewa muttered. "This is global black pharma."

Tunde chambered a round into his pulse rifle. "Then we hit them where it hurts. Full infiltration, data extraction, and if we find proof of active tests—"

Alero interrupted, "We shut it down. Permanently."

....

Inside Gwagwalada Facility — Sub-Level 3 — 3:17 A.M.

The team entered through a hidden breach in the south drainage pipe. Glyph's signal jammer looped the exterior cameras, while Ejiro, remotely guiding from Benin City, flooded the security dashboard with ghost data: phantom personnel logs, fake power failures, and AI protocol delays.

They moved like smoke through the underbelly of the facility.

The walls were lined with cryo-units, each labeled with alpha-numeric codes. In one chamber, Glyph paused and scanned.

Her voice was barely audible. "These are children."

Arewa's jaw clenched. "Subjects? Live?"

"Sedated. Test Group Delta. Neurotrace prototype with memory inhibitors."

Alero shook her head. "They're refining a compound that erases identity... turns fighters into servants."

Tunde stepped toward the console.

"Download everything. Names, batches, chemicals, trial overseers."

He hesitated when he saw a familiar name flash on the screen.

Dr. Idirah Kasim-Bako

Senior Clinical Lead

His heart dropped.

Bako's daughter. Samira.

She wasn't just an investor or a corporate puppet. She was running the tests.

....

Gwagwalada Facility – Executive Lab – 3:44 A.M.

The data download complete, the team moved toward extraction — but the building shuddered suddenly.

Alarms wailed. Drones whirred to life. The emergency lockdown protocol kicked in.

They were trapped.

"They knew we were coming," Glyph hissed.

Tunde gritted his teeth. "Then we make this loud."

Arewa set the charges. "We blow the lab, fry the data cores, and escape through the flood channel. Glyph, you lead the kids out — we hold them here."

Alero checked her rifle. "Give me a perch and 30 rounds. I'll hold them longer."

"No," Tunde said, stepping forward. "I do this."

Alero and Arewa stared.

He placed the detonator in Arewa's palm.

"If I don't make it out, drop the proof. Don't let the truth die underground."

....

Facility Roof – 4:07 A.M.

Tunde stood atop the roof, pulse rifle in hand, as NDLEC Black Suits descended from hovercrafts like dark angels.

One of them stepped forward, helmet off.

Colonel Idris Kalu — Head of Internal Security.

Tunde raised his rifle.

"You sent dogs to clean your master's filth?"

Kalu chuckled. "I came to give you a message, boy. From Minister Bako himself."

Tunde's grip tightened. "I'm listening."

"He said… 'you should've died with your father.'"

Tunde fired first.

....

Flood Channel – 4:19 A.M.

Arewa, Glyph, and Alero emerged from the underground tunnel, gasping in the cold early-morning air. Behind them, a distant boom rolled like thunder across the plains.

Ejiro's voice cracked through comms. "Extraction drone's waiting. Go now."

Arewa looked back once. No sign of Tunde.

Just smoke.

Alero touched his shoulder. "He's not done yet."

....

Gwagwalada Facility – Sub-Level 1 – 4:32 A.M.

Tunde limped through burning corridors, face bruised, uniform scorched. He clutched a hard drive, salvaged from the clinical mainframe.

His comms fizzed to life.

"Tunde," Glyph's voice whispered, "You still breathing?"

He grinned through bloodied lips. "Barely. But I've got the data. And the story just got bigger."

"Then get out."

"I'm working on it."

He passed a shattered mirror.

For a moment, he paused — saw his reflection.

Then walked on, toward the next war.