The seemingly powerful are mere lambs to those who gave them power

HIDDEN DARKNESS CH 22

The city stretched and yawned, shaking the sleep from its eyes. Those who ruled the night tidied up, preparing to relinquish the city to the day walkers.

Ola sat at a round breakfast table, awaiting the first rays signalling the end of the true night.  A glass sliding door leading to a large open balcony kept out the elements while affording him an unobstructed view. Though dawn was at least a half hour away, he didn’t mind, his gaze held by the lady who had led him here.

Clad in a white tank top and red loose fitting pants, Malaozi remained motionless at the center of the balcony. Her fingers were intertwined, upward facing palms held right below her navel. She saw nothing of the world, body in the lotus position. Eyes closed, mind blank, her sole focus, taking a breath, holding it and slowly letting it out. Time lost meaning as she sunk deeply into her meditation.

Rising, she faced the east and bowed, right fist meeting left palm. With a shout she struck out sharp and fast, fist punching through the empty air. Strike after strike followed, a mix of out stretched fingers and open palm. Precise and steady, each carried a deadly force that could be seen even when not felt. Bare feet rose, the kick lifting her clear off the ground, a cry following the cut through space, her landing soft and effortless. The tempo increased as she went through the forms, each step heavy and forceful yet formless and malleable when needed.

Watching from his perch he could see the beauty in the forms even as beads of perspiration left her brow to end up on the glass separating them. Dawn, a living fire of reds and orange crested the balcony, joining to observe what would soon come to an end. With one last stamp of her feet, she bellowed vehemently into the world. So much pain… With another bow to the east, she left the balcony and headed to the bathroom. Ola said nothing as she stalked past, his keen sense of self preservation holding his tongue.

Sounds of running water filled the quiet apartment they had slipped into at the dead of night. The concierge had not bat an eye when Malaozi walked in with a beggar in tow, both reeking heavily of alcohol. Without the slightest change in expression, he handed her a key card, returning to his post after the single task was complete. From the elevator to the apartment was passed in silence, Ola finding the nearest flat surface and promptly falling into a death like sleep.

Having slept immediately, he hadn’t had the chance to explore the apartment. A quick look around when he woke up netted him nothing. Not even a personal picture on the wall. Maybe this isn’t her apartment. It seemed plausible, the family kept many of such safe house locations city wide in case any kind of need arising. All the rooms he entered were neat and tidy, white doors silent as they opened and closed, having the feel of a hotel more than a home. The only oddity was a red door situated near the kitchen. At first Ola assumed it was the pantry, paying no mind though his curiosity was tickled. Only after finding the fridge empty and the cupboards bare did he return. It was locked. Must be her room. The deduction did not survive as he remembered there was one other locked room. Taking a seat at the breakfast table which afforded him a view of both doors, he waited. Soon he was rewarded as Malaozi emerged from the door that was not red and headed to the balcony for her meditation.

Having watched her return to the room, he got and made his way to the red door. Should be at least 15 minutes before she’s done in the shower. Better clock for 10 just in case. She did not fit the conventional mold of a lady, a truth one would have to be blind not to see. Barely four minutes had passed before Ola gave up. After observing the door and lock he came to the conclusion it would take proper tools and a lot more time to break through. He did not feel disheartened, rather the opposite as his thirst to know what could be behind the door grew. Must be her apartment. A new found urge to explore once again for anything he might have missed was born. It was quickly doused, the sound of running water petering out. Wasting no time, he returned to the breakfast table before she found anything amiss.

Out of the room she came, a towel wrapped around her head. She was dressed once again in the same burgundy jacket, white top and black trousers. He could tell though similar they weren’t the same she’d worn the day before.

“Planning on showering? You smell like a winery.”

“And whose fault is that?”

The blow she struck with the wine bottle still fresh.

“All it’d take is a spark and you’d go up in flames.”

He could see her toying with a box of matches

“Alright, you are as demanding as…”

He didn’t finish, a knock on the door cutting him off.

“Expecting company? Do you need me to give you privacy?”

She opened the door, revealing the concierge. He pushed forward a mobile service table with an assortment of dishes without taking a single step into the apartment.

“The clothes you requested.”

Handing a covered hanger over to Malaozi he left as silently as he came.

“Here, change into this.”

“Will I ever escape ladies trying to dress me. I’m not your figurine.”

As he talked she ripped open the covered hanger revealing new clothes identical to what Ola currently wore.

“Well played.”

She smirked, tossing them over. Grabbing it, he made his way to an empty rooms shower. Though cleaner than he had been in quite some time, he still felt dirty as he thought of the previous days events. What a dreadful emotion. Running fingers through his hair, he headed back to the room he had been sitting in. Malaozi occupied a chair of the breakfast table but the dishes remained beside her; untouched. Instead, the surface in front of her contained parts to a disassembled gun she was currently putting back together. A lone round stood face up by her side. That doesn’t look like the round for a glock. He crept up, touching her shoulder.

“What is written on the barrel?”

The single bullet flew into the cylinder of the reassembled revolver and was pressed at his side before he could finish his question.

“This bullet is not for you.”

“I can tell. Maybe now you can explain why you didn’t bring out that gun during the close call in the club?”

“Car is waiting for us.”

“Or why you didn’t hesitate to bring it out at the church?”

She was already at the door, holding it open for him, stance clear. Before the day is over i’ll have you bare a part of your soul. Grabbing a couple slices of toast, he left the apartment.

A Range Rover waited for them at the drive way of the apartment complex, its engine running. Passengers secured within, it sped off. As they navigated their way through the city of Lagos, more Ranges joined till they were 13 strong. Swift and imposing, the lead car cleared the way for the rest to follow. Ola closed his eyes, wishing to add a few more minutes of sleep to the short couple hours he’d had.

“We’re here.”

Ola looked out at a familiar sight. A building of glass and concrete towering above the rest. In front, convoy after convoy came and went dropping off personnel. Some had their faces shielded so as not to be recognized while others brazenly walked in the daylight. From politicians to crime bosses, one thing connected them, they were here for the reading of one man’s will. That a single piece of paper could set in motion the gathering of such powerful people only served to show the might in which the author of that parchment possessed. The surrounding streets had been blocked off to the public. A few managed to slip past the barricades to see the brilliant display and splendor. Thinking the President of the country was making a none publicized stop within the city, they took pictures aiming to post online. Only then did they notice their phones had no signal. As they tried to leave they were summarily found by security personnel and their digital devices quickly destroyed.

“So many prominent people. Isn’t that the current governor?”

Malaozi said as she took it all in.

“Not surprising. Whoever takes over the family business will have substantial control over the futures of these people. Power is what they crave and power is what the family trades.”

“Doesn’t that include you?”

Ola did not answer, the door of the Range opening at that moment. The guards at the entrance spotted him, their briefing having warned them of his appearance, each standing straighter as they cleared a path. He was in no rush, craning his neck to see to the top of the building which carried his family name. He couldn’t, the top obscured by low hanging clouds. Part of me knew the old bastard would force me back here. I will kneel on a layer of rocks and bow to your corpse before I let your machinations from the grave sweep me into this madness. Oath declared with gritty determination, Ola stepped into the building; Malaozi his shadow.

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CHAPTER 23 – July 24