John, Mark, and Aiden were on their way to the hideout to report the night’s events to Mr. Robert, their leader. They should have been more careful. The man who had seen them wasn’t in the room when they arrived—he had packed up his belongings and vanished. All they found was an old framed photograph of two elderly people and a young man, who they suspected was the same person who had spotted them.
“Aiden, are you really sure he recorded us?” Mark asked. He was the leader of the trio.
“Yes, Mark,” Aiden replied. “His phone’s camera light was on. I saw it out of the corner of my eye.”
Mark scratched behind his left ear and sighed. “The boss is going to be so angry when he hears this.”
“I don’t think you should tell him, Mark,” said John cautiously.
“We have to,” Mark insisted. “It’s the only way we’ll know what to do next.”
They fell silent as Aiden pulled up at the hideout—a two-storey building tucked away in Gold Estate, one of the city’s most expensive neighborhoods. The three greeted other members of the Sweet Bee and made their way to Mr. Robert’s office, the fifth room on the second floor. Mark knocked on the door and waited.
“Come in,” came the reply.
They entered. Mr. Robert was seated behind a cluttered desk, chewing on a chocolate bar. Splotches of melted chocolate stained his white long-sleeved shirt. His round belly pushed against the fabric, and the overhead light reflected sharply off his bald head. Aiden stifled a laugh. Mr. Robert’s terrible fashion sense always amused him.
“What is it, Mark?” Mr. Robert asked, chewing. “You know I’m a busy man.”
Mark scratched the back of his head, smiling sheepishly.
“Talk, Mark!” Mr. Robert barked, his voice thunderous.
Startled, Mark quickly launched into the story, explaining what had happened.
“YOU DID WHAT?!” Mr. Robert roared, slamming his chocolate bar on the desk and reaching for a pistol in the drawer. The trio broke into a sweat the moment they saw the weapon. He pointed it at Mark without a word.
Just then, the screen of Mr. Robert’s phone lit up. He glanced at it, then placed the pistol back in the drawer and looked up with a terrifying calm.
“You’d better find this man,” he said slowly, “and get the evidence from him. If you don’t… you know what will happen.”
His voice was level now, almost soft. That frightened John more than the yelling.
“Now leave my office. I have a meeting to attend.”
John’s heart skipped a beat. Mr. Robert was rarely calm, and when he was, someone usually ended up dead.
The three left the office faster than they had entered, rushed back to the car, and Aiden sped off into the night.
Author: George Ewusi Mensah
Great 👍
ReplyDeleteChapter 3 please