THE TUNNEL UNDER THE ORPHANAGE

The rain was a whisper against the windshield as Obi drove toward Badagry. Neither of them spoke. Between them sat the opened map—an old military blueprint, yellowed with age, marked with faint red ink.

A long corridor.Three turns.An unmarked door behind the generator room.

Zainab traced the path with her finger.

"Why an orphanage?" she asked quietly.

"Because no one questions them," Obi replied. "No one suspects evil hides behind prayers and children's laughter."

The orphanage compound sat behind a rusted gate. Faded paint read: "New Dawn Haven for the Lost."

Zainab wore a nun's cloak. Obi wore an old priest's robe borrowed from a costume warehouse in Surulere.

They entered posing as a charity group delivering food items. A guard checked their fake ID, glanced once at their crates of rice and oil, and waved them through.

Inside, children played in the muddy courtyard. A small chapel echoed with faint hymns. Everything seemed normal.

Too normal.

Zainab smiled at a little girl who offered her a bead bracelet. She took it, tied it to her wrist, and whispered, "Thank you."

Then she and Obi slipped into the supply building behind the kitchen.

The map said to look behind the third shelf.

Zainab counted carefully. Pulled the shelf forward.

A faint hiss.

A door clicked open.

Behind it, darkness.

They stepped in, closed the hidden door, and flicked on a flashlight.

The air changed immediately—damp, cold, metallic. Pipes ran along the ceiling like veins in an old monster. Footsteps echoed—distant, deliberate.

At the end of the corridor, a thick steel door waited.

Zainab knocked once.

No answer.

Twice.

Still nothing.

She pressed her ear to the door. Faint breathing.

Obi handed her a small tool wrapped in cloth. "Ex-military lockpick. Takes 12 seconds."

Zainab knelt, inserted the tool, and worked.

Click.

The door opened into a surveillance room. Monitors flickered with feeds from different angles of the building—bedrooms, classrooms, and a dark cell.

And there, in the bottom-right corner, was Dapo.

Bruised. Silent. Sitting upright, staring directly into the camera like he knew she was watching.

Zainab stepped back.

"He's alive."

Obi whispered, "That room's three floors down. No elevator. Two guards at the door. And probably one more—Moses Hall."

Zainab's jaw tightened.

Then she saw something else.

One of the monitors showed Fatiha… bound, gagged, and unconscious in a separate room.

Zainab gripped the table so hard her knuckles turned white.

"They took her too."

Obi cursed under his breath.

They had two options: go for Dapo, or go for Fatiha first. They couldn't split up. Not here. Not now.

Zainab stared at the screens.

Then she pulled a thread from her cloak, tied it around her wrist, and whispered:

"No more losses. Not today."

She turned to Obi. "We go for her first. Then we fight for him."

The lights flickered.

An alarm buzzed faintly.

They'd triggered something.

The hunt had begun.