In the center of it all is a young intrepid agent, who is determined to track down this killer. His mission leads him to uncover a horrible crime committed fourteen years ago in a remote village in the Niger-Delta, and the mysteries surrounding the personality of the UNSUB, and most importantly, the motive. He soon realizes that he is engaged in a battle for not just his career, but his own life hangs in the balance.
As an act of desperation, the authorities appoint their most ruthless cop; Sergeant Ibrahim, a notorious no-nonsense police officer, devoid of empathy.
Newly promoted, he must prove himself worthy of his new position and rank or die trying. With a combination of ruthlessness and cunning, he soon tracks down the assassin to another remote village, where the stage is being set for the assassination of the ultimate target; the president.
|Product dimensions:||5.50(w) x 8.50(h) x 0.79(d)|
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The Odi List
By Oluchukwu Enwere
Trafford PublishingCopyright © 2014 Oluchukwu Enwere
All rights reserved.
Brigadier- General Adolphus Orji crept out of the luxurious six by six in the presidential suite of the most expensive three star hotel in Umuahia, and staggered towards the bathroom. He felt dizzy upstairs, sweat was pouring all over his body, he was stark naked and he had just finished his sixth round of sex with one of the sweetest girl he had had in years of whoremongering. As with most his kind, he was given to liquor and women, something that was practically part of the curriculum in the academy and sometimes, the only thing, it seemed that they excelled in. He glanced back to look at his handiwork; the girl, about eighteen, was lying helpless and exhausted from his assault. Breathing heavily, chest heaving, as if she was going to die at any minute. He smiled and congratulated himself; at forty-six, he was glad that he could still drive the breath out of teenagers. He loved women, sex and actually the very young; he thought they were a little tighter down there. Once he had a twenty something, but hated himself after that; it seemed to him like he was laying his own mother. Since then, he had made it official policy that anyone he took to bed would not be more than twenty, nineteen maximum. A fact his men knew well, and which they kept in mind as they pimped for him. He loved the university types, the fresh men, spoilt greedy little brats who wanted more than they had, and he had the more to give.
As the commandant of the fourteenth brigade with headquarters at Ohafia near Umuahia, he was in charge of the third largest army base in the country, and so he had enormous privileges; four state governors were at his beck and call. He granted them favors which included personal protection for them and their families and even did their dirty laundry. In return, he had become an exceedingly wealthy man; he had almost everything he wished for, including hotel suites like the one he was in now, which were permanently rented for him, courtesy of the state governments.
Such sudden wealth was capable of ruining even the most prudent of men, and certainly for a man like himself, he was easily given to debauchery. He did not have combat experience; did not even wish to. He didn't join the military to die, but rather to break even. His current rank and status has been well earned, not by merit in military terms, but by favor, which was usually granted by higher powers; the usual mode of advancement in his country. He thought he deserved his present status, having been under the shadow of a General for decades, it was compensatory for obedience and subservience or rather slavish devotion. The country was now under civil rule, much to the delight of the thieving politicians; but then it was the military that still called the shots from the shadows. It was men like him who actually ran things. He was still working his way to the top though, and confident he would get there. In just a little over a year he took the job, he had acquired so much that he could not even keep track of it. There were landed properties; buildings, duplexes, mansions in every state capital under his jurisdiction. Every politician wanted to impress. They had to, he thought, otherwise, without his escorts, they wouldn't survive. It was still only 11 pm, the night was young, there was plenty more to drink, and at least four more rounds to go. His lips exploded in a joyous tune as he reminisced on the hours to come, staggering into the bathroom, and singing loudly as he hit the room. The floor was immaculate, marbled; the sink and the bathtub where all plated in gold, genuine gold he knew. He deserved all these after all, he thought; his services didn't come cheap anyway. Something he had been trying to suppress for months crept into his mind again. How would he be living, if and when he became the head of state? Almost as soon as the thought came up, he slapped his face viciously, trying desperately to listen to himself, just in case he had altered anything to the hearing of the walls. "The walls have ears," he said, loud enough for him to hear alone. He sighed, trying desperately to wipe out the thought, at least for now. He didn't yet possess the resources and even the required command to pull off such a coup.
He took two steps towards the door, and into the bathroom, and started to urinate, guiding his urine stream with his right hand. As he voided, he took a look at himself in the mirror in front of him. He thought himself good looking, and still quite young, no wrinkles and so on. He was still engrossed in himself until he heard a sound; he was not sure he heard anything; in any case, he was almost done, as he flipped his penis violently up and down to rid it of any remnants of urine. At that instant, the light went off and the door suddenly closed itself. What the hell, he thought as he turned around immediately to observe what was wrong. Then he saw a figure arising from the ground very quickly in the dark; his heart raced, as fear seized him completely. Witchcraft, he thought.
As he opened his mouth wide to scream for help, almost instantly, he felt the cold sharp edge of a metal to the left side of his neck, and then realized a split second later that he could not scream. Something in his neck was pouring viscid liquid all over his trunk; he raised his right hand to his neck and removed it, to see it stained with blood, his own blood he realized a split second latter, but by then, he was already on his knees, clutching his neck, his voice unable to ring. He tried to reach for the door, but his hand fell short of it. He finally collapsed on the marble floor, blood creeping from the slashed neck all over the bathroom, his eyes and mouth wide open in horror.
She had heard the gentle noise, like someone stamping their feet on the ground. She thought she even heard a suppressed scream. Anyway, she was still out of breath to bother; the bastard was probably finding it difficult to pass urine. "GOD!" she exclaimed quietly; the man was a horse, the way he rammed her like a mad man. Each thrust seemed to her like the weight of a bag of cement being thrust upon her, driving the breath out of her. If he continued that way throughout the night, she was sure she would be dead by morning.
Anyway, the money was good. Like most of her type, she was brought up in a middle class background; her parents were top ranking civil servants who had given her a relatively better education than the ordinary folks around them. She had not really known hunger all her life; but then, they were the types who usually ended up in such a trade. She had the basic things of life, but she also wanted the luxuries. She was driven by greed like others, but in her case, she was also driven by an insatiable sexual desire.
She preferred older, even elderly men. It gave her the feeling that her own father was on top of her, driving her to ecstasy. She had even imagined it, she wouldn't mind, but it was a sacrilege to even contemplate such evil in her society; it also helped to enhance her libido. Men are stupid, she had always told her friends. They were ready to pay anything, just for a piece of a woman's body; especially the government types who looted public funds and threw it around blatantly. Well, if they were willing to spend, she was willing to take. It was good business for her; she gave almost nothing, but got everything, and in addition, enjoyed herself. This to her was very good business; it made perfect sense to be a woman.
She was well aware of her astonishing beauty and the effect she had on men; heads turned everywhere she went. At an early age, she had known men. She remembered her first sexual experience, a year ago, when she was eighteen and still in secondary school. She had gone visiting a family friend; a girl of about her age, with a father that was a colleague of her fathers' but wealthier. Unfortunately or rather fortunately for her, her friend was not at home; instead, she was confronted by the father who could not resist her charms. It was the first time she had seen a man's manhood. Seated in the parlor with him, she observed the upward and downward movement of the man's wrapper around the groin; she didn't know what it was then, had never seen anything like it, not until the man came close to her, cuddling her, then took her hand and placed it on the turgid flesh. She still remembered the man's cry of ecstasy immediately she made contact with his thing. It was then that she sensed trouble and stood up to go. Then the man had pleaded for her to stay and touch his body, almost in tears. Then, she could not understand why a grown man, older than her father even and very powerful government man, could be crying for a little rat like herself. Who was she that someone that powerful would cry for? She was astonished, but then, her good sense urged her to continue her journey home. She politely declined his request and insisted on going; then it had happened.
Just a few more steps remaining to the front door, she felt strong hands seize both her shoulders and then wrap around her trunk, lifting her up. She opened her mouth to scream, even let out some high pitched noise, but then another hand occluded her mouth and nose so tightly that she feared she would suffocated. The man half carried, half dragged her to his bedroom and threw her violently on the bed; then he tore her clothes into pieces and threw them on the floor. She saw the monstrous look on his face and realized that she stood no chance of escape. Then she begged and begged and kept calling him uncle; perhaps that would bring him back to his senses and he would realize that she was young enough to be his daughter, but then, all her pleas fell on deaf ears; it was as if he was seized by an evil spirit. The man, the uncle, and the father- like figure she thought she knew so well, now seemed like a stranger, an animal. What could make such a man to turn from gentle to monster in a twinkle of an eye? She had asked herself severally. She didn't understand it then, but she did now. The man had parted her tender legs and forcefully thrust himself into her. She had screamed at the top of her voice, but no one heard her. She had bled profusely, but not enough to put her life in danger. In less than twenty minutes, the man was done and climbed down from her. Then she started crying and had asked him why he had done such a thing to her. She thought her life was over and was even willing to end it there and then, but then what followed after, had changed her life forever.
The man had gone to his closet, and brought out one lump of bank notes which he threw at her, but she immediately shoved it off her; it was disgusting and she felt like vomiting. But the man had spoken to her harshly, ordering her immediately to take the money and go and to keep her mouth shut about what had happened. It was then that she looked at the lump and realized that it was a bundle of one thousand naira notes; she did a quick arithmetic in her head, which came to a total of a hundred thousand naira. The money was stunning for an eighteen year old, and was enough to secure her silence forever. She never spoke of the incident afterwards.
The incident had been an eye opener. She discovered that whatever it was that turned men into monsters, also gave them great joy. She remembered as the man had shuddered and screamed, shortly before he collapsed beside her, his mouth spewing out all sorts of thanks in between gasps of breath. That was when she realized she was walking about with a goldmine in- between her legs, and since then, she had made good use of it. Anything she wanted, she got; she had left secondary school with powerful grades, even secured university admission, all without much hassle.
The man had taken her regularly since then for a year, and then got tired of her. She had also learnt a lesson from it; that a man who appeared to give everything for sex, would give nothing once they were done with you; it was simple, they treated women like garbage. That realization hardened her heart and developed her into the mindless, emotionless whore she was presently. She had proceeded to extract as much as possible from her male victims.
Though she did not consider herself a prostitute; after all, she did not stand along the road half naked; she simply did it the modern way, the civilized way. Despite the excuses she had for doing what she did, she knew she was a whore, first- class. She had slept with no less than a hundred different men; all top ranking civil servants, politicians, businessmen, and military personnel; anyone with the money to spend. She blamed men for giving her that life, and was willing to squeeze out their pockets as a result. She had done very well for herself; at nineteen, she owned a brand new Toyota Avalon salon car and a bank account in seven figures.
She was recovering her breath and was now preparing her mind for yet another round. She was thankful somewhat in her mind, that at least she had a few minutes of rest. The bastard never gave her any breathing space in-between rounds. That was common with members of his vocation; they all wanted to extract as much sex as the money they were paying. She hoped he would remain there, whatever he was doing; she even heard herself praying that he passed out till morning. In that way, she could announced her exit by 6.00 AM, and demand her fees without further incursions into her body. He was drunk alright, his breath reeked of alcohol; but the General was not one to pass out so easily. She had had previous stints with him, and each time, he rode her non-stop till the early hours of the morning; whatever money he gave her, he made sure she worked for every dime.
But he had been in the bathroom too long; she estimated at least an hour. She wondered what he could be doing there. Whatever it was, she was going to find out, and GOD help him, if he was secretly gulping the herbal concoction that ensured endless turgidity; it was against the rules. Damn it, every whore knew it was against the rules. There were unofficial regulations that governed whoredom. If she could just catch him red handed, she thought, as her eyes lit up with mischief, she would put an end to the contract and even extract more money for damages. After all, it was unfair and even wicked; why would someone be hitting at another human being non-stop. It was like taking hormone enhancement in the sports world; those caught paid dearly for it. It was cheating, simple.
As she tip –toed towards the bathroom door, all her senses became alert. She stopped mid-way to the door and listened, but there was no sound at all. Has he really passed out, she thought. Her heart warmed as she thought of the possibility. The room was dark, there was no light and there were no lights on in the bathroom equally. She advanced further, stopped and listened; still no sound. It was then that her mind became suspicious. There was sometime ominous happening or had happened; she could sense evil in the air, hung all around her.
She advanced further, but by now she was shaking like a leave. Nothing was more frightening like the unknown. And the only way to put an end to her anxiety and fright was by opening the door. Whatever it was, she could confront it, be it the devil. She stopped short of opening the door as another thought crept into her mind. She had heard of men who used women for rituals, women like her. They would turn into snakes or whatever beast they wished and devoured their victims. She had always dismissed the stories as myth, had never seen anyone it happened to, let alone experience it herself. Even those who peddled the rumors; did so on hearsay. Even at that, the stories were always about politicians who wanted blood money and power, not the military types who could acquire both money and power with their guns and tanks. But at that moment, she wasn't so sure she didn't believe the story. She picked courage and took the final step to the door, stretching her right hand to open it.
Excerpted from The Odi List by Oluchukwu Enwere. Copyright © 2014 Oluchukwu Enwere. Excerpted by permission of Trafford Publishing.
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