Evan McGregor strolled into the American consulate nonchalantly. He worked as an attache for the United States government in the embassy at Abuja. In actual fact, he was a secret agent working for the CIA. He handled the field agents and spied on the Nigerian Intelligence community.
Evan was adept at his job. His cover opened all sorts of doors in the country. He had contacts everywhere, both in the private and public sectors. He was always amazed at how many people wanted out of the country desperately. He always wondered why they were desperate to get out of their country to his when their country had the potential for so much more.
He had encountered lots of people queuing for their appointments with the visa officers and had smiled and greeted a few of them on his way in. He couldn’t understand the psyche of the people no matter how hard he tried, so he had given up on profiling the people of the country. It was as diverse as their cultures and ethnicity the people he had conceded.
She gawked at him. All six foot, four inches of him. It was their ritual; he could tell she wanted a chance in private with him. His own Moneypenny he called her and she giggles every time causing him to always wonder.
‘Good morning Evan, how’d you sleep?’ She was smiling, as always.
‘Good. Just good.’ He high-fived her and strolled into his inner office. He had loads of work to do that morning. Tons, if his gut feeling was correct. He knew something was amiss, there had been lots of intelligence chatter in the previous weeks, suddenly, at the beginning of the last weekend, it had died down.
He went through all his usual contacts and routes to get information, nothing. They were all in the dark. They didn’t even appreciate the urgency and importance of his work. He had been trying for days to get firsthand details, he couldn’t get any. His agent in Jos had come through the previous day however.
A really meticulous man, the agent liked getting all his facts correct and updated before going for any debriefing he had. As such, Evan was not such a hot fan Adamu Alli. Still, when the man had called the previous night with his situation report, Evan wanted to kiss him. Their discussion replayed in his head as his computer powered up.
His phone had almost fallen of the table after vibrating for so long. He was engrossed on a report he was working on, searching for clues as to where the active NIA agents were holed up. His phone’s alert was set to vibrate only, so he hadn’t noticed until the phone was about falling off. He reached out, grabbed the phone and clicked the answer button
‘Yes?’ His voice was gruff.
‘This is Adamu Alli reporting in,’ the voice announced. The caller did not wait for him to respond before proceeding. ‘I’m reporting on the recent events at Jos here.’
He became alert immediately. ‘So what do you know?’
‘It’s still sketchy who’s after them, but so far, four field agents of the NIA have been killed in the state. It is the fifth agent that has refused to die who’s causing all the hullabaloo. His name is Efe Charles and he has killed up to seven men, discounting the dead policeman found at the hospital where he was supposedly being treated.’
Evan was typing furiously on his computer. It didn’t take long for the agent’s profile to pop up on the screen. ‘So where’s the agent now?’ He asked as he noticed the agent’s status was MIA.
For once, Adamu couldn’t provide a ready answer. Evan could hear his bafflement carry through the phone line to him. ‘Nobody knows or can tell for sure. The agent and a sniper are missing. Word is the agent may have the criminal, speculations are all I’m getting here.’
‘Good job as always,’ Evan stroked the man’s ego. He realised that Adamu was one of his agents that he never really praised for their work, they did what was required and moved on with their life. No point dwelling on past glory.
He studied Efe Charles’ file and was impressed. If ever he wanted a double agent, he knew he may call the agent up and look for a chink in his armour to exploit. He completed the file, finished his research and shut down the computer after transferring the files to his office computer.
And there he was at the office, seated behind his computer, staring again at Charles’ photograph and wondering where the agent had disappeared to. He activated his satellite access. He had to know, he began downloading images.
Efe Charles had survived the night. How he did it, he couldn’t really say. He dragged the sniper – Odalo – out of the hospital in his unconscious state. When they got outside the hospital, there were lots of cars to pick from. He chose a nondescript car, stashed his hostage in the backseat, got in the driver’s seat and drove away. The key was still in the ignition.
At first, he had no real destination, he planned on driving around for a bit till his nerves calmed and his logic returned. He had operated purely on instinct and adrenaline to get out of the hospital alive.
As he drove, he remembered a hideout of thieves he had busted several months back. It seemed like the perfect place to hide away from all the men who had it in for him. He figured he would rest, relax and recuperate there. He had to change the car first; he drove around car and stole two more cars, exchanging the one he was driving for the new one. He drove into the abandoned house around one a.m., dragged the sniper who was falling in and out of consciousness. It was time to get answers.