Saving her guard, p.5
Saving Her Guard, page 5
He swept his torch in a wide arch, and it beamed on two people bound onto chairs, tapes around their mouths. Muffled noises came from them. Perhaps sobs and pleading.
His heart skipped a beat.
“Over here,” he shouted for Luke, scanning the wall for the light switch. He found it and flicked it on, closing one eye to help his dark-to-light vision. White light flooded the place as Luke ran in.
The man and woman blinked, averting their gazes from the glare. They must have been in the dark for long.
Kojo approached cautiously. “I’m here to help. Not going to hurt you. I’m just going to take the tape off your mouth. Okay?”
The man nodded, and Kojo picked a corner of the duct tape and ripped it off.
The man groaned as he worked his jaw muscles.
“My name is Kojo, and I’m from Goldcrest Hotel. Who are you, and what happened here?” he asked, raised his phone and took snapshots of them.
He sent the photos to Kenny to verify if any of the hotel staff knew them.
The man blinked. “My name is Animashaun. This is my business. We were attacked by some people this evening. They tied us up for hours and took our van. One of them was here until very recently. When you came in just now, I thought you were him.”
Kojo pulled out his flip knife. The woman’s eyes went wide, and she jerked in her chair violently.
“Calm down. I’m just going to cut the tapes off.”
They sat still as he sliced off the bindings from their arms and legs.
“What’s your name?” he asked the woman when she removed the gag.
“Grace Bello,” she replied, rubbing her arms.
Of course, it made sense the abductors would impersonate the real laundry workers. But how come the hotel staff didn’t notice that the two Graces didn’t match?
He found the picture of the Grace-impersonator he’d taken plus the ones Dapo had sent to his phone and presented them. “Do you recognise these people?”
Grace looked at the photo of the woman. “Yes, she was here. But she left a long time ago.”
“What time?”
“Maybe about 5 o’clock.”
“What about him?” He showed the other photo.
Grace shook her head. “I’ve never seen him before.”
Kojo frowned. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“What about you, Mr Animashaun?” Kojo asked the man whose gaze seemed fixed on a blue-white-red striped plastic bag in the corner.
“Sorry, what?” the man asked, his gaze averted in a guilty expression.
What was the man hiding?
“Have you seen this man?” Kojo asked, lifting the phone so the laundry service owner could see better. He looked at Luke, who stood by the door and nodded towards the bag.
Luke understood and went to examine the bag.
“No,” Mr Animashaun said. “He wasn’t the man who was here this evening. The man that was here was younger, maybe in his thirties, and he was bigger too. Although most of his face was covered by the scarf and hat, I heard his voice.”
“Can you describe him?”
“He was taller than you. Maybe not as big. He wore overalls like a mechanic. It was his voice that stood out for me. I couldn’t recognise his accent. He didn’t sound Nigerian. He spoke in pidgin English, but it was different from the Lagos pidgin.”
Luke brought the bag over.
“Don’t touch that,” the business owner protested.
“What is it?” Kojo asked, turning towards Luke as he placed the bag on a closed washing machine.
“It’s nothing,” Animashaun replied.
Luke opened the bag and took out a wad of crisp banknotes. “This isn’t nothing. There’s probably over a million naira in here.”
The man averted his gaze.
Kojo looked inside. The bag was packed with one thousand naira notes in bundles of fifty, and there were about twenty of them.
“Mr Animashaun, this evening some people attempted an armed robbery at Goldcrest Hotel using your company van. The state governor’s wife was there. You can imagine the trouble coming.” Kojo couldn’t vocalise what really happened. Using the First Lady was a diversion, and armed robbery was as close to the truth as he was willing to go. “Did you have something to do with it?”
“No! Olorun maje!” the man denied vehemently, shaking his head. “My hands are clean.”
“Tell me what this money is doing here, or you will both spend the night in police custody.”
“Ah! It’s the people that tied us up that brought the bag,” Grace said, gesticulating. “Mr Animashaun, tell them, na.”
“I will talk,” the man said. “The people brought the bag of money. They said it was compensation for taking our van and inconveniencing us. That’s all.”
“So, you let them use your van as a getaway vehicle, and they used your IDs to get into the hotel. You know you’re guilty of conspiracy to commit armed robbery.”
“No, we didn’t know what they were going to do. And we were tied up. One of them stayed here with a gun. You saw us when you came. We were tied up. If you didn’t show up, I don’t’ know how we would have got out tonight.”
Kojo doubted that they were directly involved with the abduction. But frustration lanced him because he was still no nearer to finding the princess.
“So, they have no intention of returning your van. Does it have a tracker installed?” he asked in hope.
“Yes, yes. If I get my phone, I can show you where it is on the map.”
“Okay. Do that.”
The man left, and Luke followed him.
“Is it okay if I used the ladies,” Grace said.
“Sure,” Kojo said.
When she left, Kojo grabbed his phone and called Kenny.
Chapter 5
Latifah lived for adventure.
The second daughter to a long-serving military officer, she was everything her sister wasn’t.
When they’d been young girls, people had remarked at how different they’d been.
Her sister, Nabou, was studious and had been great academically, while Latifah had found the classroom stifling. She’d yearned for adventure to faraway places and had been bored of school and all the usual things girls were interested in.
Until her parents had made the decision to send her to a military academy where she had excelled. She’d graduated and served as an officer for many years, even gotten decorated. She’d worked as an undercover investigator, infiltrating organised crime syndicates, people trafficking rings and religious fundamentalists groups.
She’d put her life on the line on several occasions to protect the innocent and had the scars as souvenirs.
But she’d started falling out of love with military service when she’d seen the way the army grunts in her country had brutalised civilians. She’d investigated and reported many of them, but nothing had been done to them.
Then the Wanai Secret Police had arrested her cousin Zain Bassong under false charges, detained and tortured him on several occasions for his political views.
That had been the last straw.
In frustration, she’d resigned her commission and joined him to set up the revolutionary group, the Movement for the Liberation of Ganuri. Their goals—to dispose of the current Wanaian president and his family or create a new nation of Ganuri, whichever came first.
So here she was, in Nigeria, having committed several crimes today. Most prominent—the abduction of a high-ranking member of a royal family and shipping the captive across international borders.
Latifah was usually on the other side—serving on the side of the government. On the side of the law.
But life wasn’t always black or white, and she mainly lived in the grey area these days.
Anyway, the Wanaian law was an ass. The system was corrupt and polluted, only catering for the people in power while the masses suffered.
Over the past nine years, the MLG had tried to affect change through legal means, the courts, and peaceful protests. None of it worked.
Instead, things had gotten worse, and the government now blatantly killed innocent civilians out on the streets without any recourse.
It was time for something different. A drastic approach. A reckoning.
Hence the need to abduct the First Princess of the Bagumi Kingdom, who was engaged to the Wanaian President’s son. She would be a bargaining chip, a tool to persuade the tormentors to desist from their actions.
As a group, they had planned and executed the mission with minimal hitches. Now, the target was in custody and on a flight to Wanai.
Latifah understood the consequence of their actions was death.
But this wasn’t about their personal conveniences.
This was about the people of Wanai, a people currently suffering under the brutal rule of a dictator. The president was systematically wiping out the Ganuri tribe through ethnic cleansing and genocide.
The rest of the world was standing by and letting it happen.
So Latifah and other vital members of the MLG had taken it into their hands to do something radical to highlight the problem in the country.
Now, Latifah drove the blacked-out SUV back to the safehouse in Festac Town, a moderately affordable community in Lagos state. She would spend the night and then start her journey back to Wanai tomorrow.
The outdoor security lights came on, indicating that there was an electricity supply. Nigeria tended to have an intermittent service. But the owner of the property had guaranteed that there would be a constant supply of power. Latifah didn’t care if it was from the power grid or local generator as long as she could have a comfortable night with the fan or air conditioner.
She’d booked the duplex through an online lodgings marketplace for the whole week. The place was stocked with food and toiletries as well as the furnishings as per her request.
She’d used the service many times before and never had a problem.
Wearing gloves, Latifah pulled the keys from her pocket and opened the security barrier and front door. The entrance led into a living room with cream walls. She headed straight for the bedroom, dumped her overnight bag on the divan and stripped her clothes. The idea was to use as little space as possible and leave as little forensics as possible.
It wasn’t the Nigerian authorities she feared. They were more interested in lining the pockets of terrorists and criminals with ransom money to investigate her actions properly.
No, it was the Bagumians that concerned her. Their history proved they were least likely to negotiate or treat her with kid gloves. Instead, they would use all the resources at their disposal to hunt her down once they established her identity. Including using the Interpol network and bringing in foreign experts to follow her trail.
She’d already made an error by letting the bodyguard take a photograph of her face. Though, she’d had prosthetics that altered her features at the time.
Still, it couldn’t be helped. It had been the only way to get into the bathroom so she could take the princess and the first real opportunity they’d had all night. Another opening like that would have been impossible.
So, she had to be careful. She would have to wipe down every surface she touched and burn anything else she couldn’t clean.
Minutes later, she was washed and wearing loose cotton shorts and a t-shirt. She needed sleep after the last few hectic days. She climbed into bed as her phone beeped.
She picked it from the bedside and checked the alarm reminding her of the time.
Midnight.
Kojo. She’d told him she would meet him now.
Shame she wouldn’t be keeping the promise to him. It would’ve been a fantastic night exploring each other. Instead, she was lying low.
The image of the hunk of a man filled her mind—his hardness, his arresting gaze, his sweetness. All the sexy things she could’ve done with him.
Damn. Temptation pulsed in her core, making her itch to get in the car and drive back to the hotel just to find out.
Laughter bubbled out of her mouth.
Sure, she was adventurous, but she wasn’t crazy.
The mission was more important than getting her kicks, and she would have to find release some other way.
As compensation, she logged into the app and checked the location of the bug she had planted on him. Unfortunately, it had a short-range audio transmission but still showed the location of the target.
Right now, sweet Mr Kojo was at the Goldcrest Hotel Suites, probably in his room. She wished she could hear him moving around like she’d done earlier. If she’d spent the night at the hotel, she would be able to tap into the audio frequency and listen to him from the bug planted in his trouser pocket.
The device had been handy.
Once the princess had headed for the toilets, the tracker had indicated Kojo’s location. This had been Latifah’s cue to head in their direction. And by using her seduction charms on the man after she’d exited the bathrooms, she’d ensured he didn’t search the trolley, which she’d suspected he would do.
Now, he wouldn’t be waiting up for her since he had other more urgent matters at hand.
Latifah had upended Kojo’s life by snatching the princess. His job would be on the line.
A twinge of guilt assaulted her. She wasn’t in the business of causing harm to innocent people. In fact, this mission was about saving the vulnerable citizens of Wanai who were currently under the brutal, despotic government of a dictator.
They’d needed a political ace card, and the princess was it, unfortunately.
However, Latifah would admit abducting Princess Isha would cause distress and discomfort to her family and friends. The reason she’d found a late-night internet café earlier and sent an encoded message to the Saene royal family letting them know Princess Isha was safe.
Hopefully, that would ease their minds until the princess returned home.
Still, the thought didn’t ease Latifah’s mind. Perturbed, she tossed and turned until sleep finally claimed her.
***
Latifah woke with the image of the giant man filling her vision, sweat trickling between her breasts, making her clothes cling to damp flesh.
Kojo was all solidity and strength, making her mouth water and her insides clench as she hovered between dream and memories.
A smile curled her lips, and her clit throbbed at the feel of his body and the brief, passionate kiss they’d shared in the hotel corridor outside the ladies’.
Her heart had pounded so fast, and she’d been intoxicated with arousal at the danger of discovery. It had been a double-edged sword—wanting to screw Kojo against the wall. Yet, needing to get away as quickly as possible with the illicit bundle covered with towels in the laundry cart.
Warmth pulsed through her when she remembered the taste of his lips. How would his mouth feel on the rest of her body—breasts, stomach, and pussy?
“Oh,” she moaned, sliding a hand into her shorts, and finding slick flesh. Her thighs fell apart as she parted her labia. Fingers circled the sensitive nerve-filled button at her centre before dipping into her slit.
Excitement raced through her as she pictured Kojo. His swagger as he’d walked past room 4-0-7. His sexy, crinkled smile when she’d first met him. His broad shoulders and thick arms as he’d held her against his body.
She’d observed every detail of his tailored suit stretched across his body as he’d scrutinised her ID. The tightness of his trousers against his butt and thighs. The feel of his hardened erection through the fabric of his pants.
She bit her bottom lip as the memories played back, pumping fingers into her wet pussy while circling and teasing her clit with her thumb. Clenching tightly around her digits, her hips canting in rhythm.
She imagined Kojo’s dark observant eyes staring straight at her, watching her as she pleasured herself, his dick swollen and needy of her body. He would fight for control, not wanting to succumb to her. Yet, his body would betray him. His shaft would swell with the desire to seek completion. His mouth would water with wanting to taste her.
With the image of his eyes burning into her, she thrust faster, clenched tighter as the orgasm crashed over her and a long moan burst from her lips.
Closing her eyes, she took calming breaths to calm her racing heart as she withdrew her hand and drifted back to sleep.
***
The following morning Latifah got up and took out the cleaning items. First, she vacuum-cleaned the interior of the house and the car. Then she scrubbed every surface, wiping out any lingering DNA or fingerprints she or her colleagues may have left behind.
Afterwards, she booked a taxi, showered, dressed, and packed everything into the overnight bag. Then she burned the bedsheets and linen she’d used.
When the cab driver messaged he was outside, she wiped the surfaces to remove her fingerprints, locked the door and headed towards the gates.
There was plenty of time to catch her flight to Accra and then cross the border into Wanai by road.
She stepped through the gates, walked towards the Toyota Corolla parked outside the building. Instinct made her glance to the side. Her heart froze in shock at the sight of the man standing beside the entrance.
Adrenaline propelled her forward across the pavement. She jumped into the backseat of the car and shouted at the driver to go.
But it was too late.
Chapter 6
The morning after Princess Isha went missing, Kojo was back in the SUV with Luke.
Last night had been a hive of activities.
Thanks to the tracker on the laundry service van. Dapo had been able to approximate the last known location of the vehicle. Unfortunately, they’d found it burnt out and abandoned by a quiet country lane, making it impossible to recover any fingerprints or DNA.
On a positive note, they’d recovered the bag of money given to Mr Animashaun, and Kenny’s team were dealing with the lab analysis.
Kojo had returned to the hotel and dealt with Kweku Doona, who proved to be a hindrance rather than a help, with his bluster. A good thing they were not in Wanai as the annoying man would have been able to take over the investigation.
