EGGSHELL 10

Click to read EGGSHELL here

Click to read EGGSHELL 2 here

Click to read EGGSHELL 3 here

Click to read EGGSHELL 4 here

Click to read EGGSHELL 5 here

Click to read EGGSHELL 6 here

 Click to read EGGSHELL 7 here

Click to read EGGSHELL 8 here

Click to read EGGSHELL 9 here

*****************************************************************************

BK Infometrics Inc. HQ

Lagos, Nigeria.

January 17, 1997.

7.15 A.M.

 

The atmosphere in the room was electric. She was standing, and it was clear to Wemimo that she was seriously trying to hide the feeling of great pain and betrayal that threatened to break her last vestiges of resolve and self-control. She didn’t see this one coming, and despite his own very shrewd advises and gentle prodding, she opted to lay her faith in the man whom now has turned out to be the wolf among her pack of lambs.

 

“This is absolutely unbelievable. I am sorry for doubting you Wemi. And I am forever indebted to you Jide,” she went over to her desk and sat down heavily. She looked very tired and high-strung. It had been over two weeks now that she had her files stolen and erased, but those two weeks had seemed like two years to Wemimo. Many things have happened in between – he had helped her get Jide on board, they had set an elaborate and intricate trap for the mole inside the BK Infometrics Inc. and he had also heard the most bizarre and frightening story of his life.

 

At that time, it seemed like there was nothing they could do to stop Alhaji Abu Shelama, the minister for Agricultural Development and his cohorts. The odds were stacked against him and Biodun, they knew the story but they could tell no one for lack of proof. But, before them now is the proof. At least, now they know someone took those files illegally from their systems and they know who it was and who those files were given to. The e-mail printout on the table was as crystal clear as a clear glass of water.

 

“Apparently, he didn’t know what we had done. He was also panicked and reckless. Under other circumstances, he might have been more circumspect.”

 

“Wemimo, Jide the question now is – what do we do with this piece of info?”

 

She was looking at them for direction – for some direction. Wemimo hated to see she had lost her edge for sharp decision-making in the face of the revelation of the mail printout. When Jude sent the mail the previous evening, Jide had quickly locked on to the communication thanks to the new systems in place. As soon as he had the contents of the mail, he had forwarded to Wemimo who had in turn shown it to Biodun. She had not slept since then and he had been watchful over her, looking out for any slight show of stress.

 

“I think what we should do is to inform the secret service. I have a few contacts I could talk to about this,” Jide offered.

 

“I think that is one thing. I also think you have to reach the presidency with this and ensure the president hears about it,” Wemimo sat down and invited Jide to do same. “You will contact your friends in the SSS and hopefully, they will keep this information quiet and away from the minister. I think it is imperative we catch Jude doing something else. We should be tactful and allow him to stay on. Meanwhile, they can begin to tail his every move and contacts,” he paused when there was a soft knock on the door and the secretary came into the office bearing the morning’s papers.

 

Wemimo noticed the embarrassed look on her face as she came in. She was trying to avoid everyone’s eyes and made her exit as soon as he collected the papers from her. It couldn’t be that she had an idea what was going on. If she did, they might need to revise their plans….

 

He unfolded the newspaper fold and his focus shifted on seeing the headline.

 

God!

 

Oh God! It was all he could think about as he sat back on his seat, taking great care not to draw attention to his movements while he hid the paper in the crook of the space between him and the arm of the chair away from where Jide could reach them.

 

Oh God!!!

 

January 17, 1997.

9.05 A.M.

 

When Jide finally left, Wemimo invited Biodun to come over and sit beside him. When she came and was properly settled, he took the papers and handed them to her.

 

“Before you open those, please let me explain some things to you.”

 

He began to talk…..

 

January 17, 1997.

9.55 A.M.

 

Her head ached. It was like there was a hot air balloon stuffed into her head and it was threatening to lift off with her head leaving her neck and body behind.

 

What you don’t know won’t kill you. So they say, and she wished she didn’t know all the things Wemimo had told her. Better still, she wished they never happened and were just fairy tales told to scare her.

But, they happened. He had illegally obtained the design prints for some building somewhere, he had almost being arrested for pushing drugs and some other girl had taken the rap for him, he had also somehow being involved with murder.

 

The first two facts had been mentioned in the newspapers, but the murder was not.

 

She couldn’t say anything or do anything. It was too much information to contend with for one morning. Right from the situation with her CDA and now this, and it was all over the papers. On the front page of the daily newspapers. It was the same way like when she had that issue with the minister….

 

Her eyes narrowed at that thought.

 

Now that she thought about it, her mind began to spin like a spoke in a windmill treadmill. Could Abu Shelama be behind this whole thing? Like he was the last time – splashing her nude photographs, etc. in the papers.

 

“Wemimo, I won’t judge you. Every man has a tale. I also have mine and I shared it. Look, we are here and I think I know who is behind all this,” Wemimo shot her a sharp look of surprise. Biodun continued hurriedly before he could stop her, “It is all falling into place, all the many pieces of the puzzle. Remember when I told you about Abu? He was the one behind all my troubles then. We reignited our relationship after I came back down to the country to set up this company. Then, he began to link me with friends in government and the private sector, which I really needed at the time. But, when I stumbled upon those files in his computer, things changed. And now, my instinct tells me he leaked this story in the papers.”

 

“But, these things happened years ago. Before I even met you or knew I was going to be working on this building,” Wemimo protested.

 

Biodun smiled at him ruefully. The smile made Wemimo’s mind skip several beats. There was something coming….something big and now he was really afraid.

 

“Wemimo, the Eggshell had always been an idea nurtured by Shelama. It is not from you I first heard that term and the idea of that structure for my headquarters.”

 

She dropped the newspapers on the seat between them, “that however is not important for now. My biggest headache now is figuring out what his motives for leaking these stories are, and also second-guessing his next move.”

 

Wemimo thought about it for a while, then he began to speak for a second time.

 

Someone wanted to do them in so bad, he will show them he also got something of his own to spring on them.

 

************************************************************************************

January 17, 1997.

2.15 A.M.

 

“Ultimately, what we are doing is the reverse of what was done to your systems. We are entering the computer through a loophole, a backdoor. In a few minutes, I will be able to access everything on that system, download it, get out through the same backdoor and shut it behind me. I can only hope the system is hooked to the internet and active right now.”

 

Biodun looked at her watch, it was 3.32 p.m. and she was also contemplating the same problem Jide just expressed. She wanted so much to destroy Abu Shelama now. She was trying to ruin her, and ruin the best thing that had happened to her after she left him. She couldn’t believe the extent he was willing to go through to get his wish.

 

But, after all that Wemimo said to her earlier she was now committed to carrying the plan through.

 

First she had put a call through to the presidency asking for an appointment with the president the next day, her agenda being matters of urgent national importance. She had also dispatched a mail to Jude Omiro, her CDA – on the instructions of Jide. She had asked him to mail Alhaji Abu Shelama to give him updates on how far they are progressing on the data processing, making sure to tell him they would be done with everything on schedule. According to Jide, he had attached a bug to the mail she sent and that the bug will allow him to piggy-back on the mail into the minister’s system.

 

Finally, Jide Sanisu had called his friends in the SSS and they were already assembling a team to handle the case. Jide made it clear to them that this is high security matters, that terrorism was on the play and that fewer people needed to know what was going on. He had then securely sent a copy of the mail they had intercepted from Jude to the minster.

 

Now, some hours after all of that they were waiting for the real action. That will start when they are able to gain access to the Alhaji’s computer and the files in them. Biodun was quite sure they would find those files, because she understood the Alhaji’s egomaniac sense of superiority she knew he would have them on the system. To him, they won’t be sensible to anyone who had access to them and they were encrypted anyway.

 

“How soon do you estimate we can get him, Jide?”

 

He shrugged, “I can’t say for sure. It depends on if he is the type that answers all his mails immediately or if he just ignores them till when he is ready.”

 

“I think he is the latter, if my memory serves me well.”

 

“Good then. It won’t be long.”

 

********************************************************************************

Kano, Nigeria.

January 17, 1997.

2.21 P.M.

 

Abu Shelama saw the mail come into his inbox. He was enraged that Jude didn’t have the sense to not communicate with him again on the secret mail address they used. He had warned him when he did same thing a few days back, but now he had done same again. Copying the mail address that was only to be used in an extreme emergency.

 

His first instinct was to delete the message or ignore it. But, he wasn’t sure he would be comfortable not knowing what Jude wanted. This is a critical time in their progress. He should open the mail and see what it was all about.

 

He reached for his mouse and clicked the mail to open it. His raged was as raw as a fresh, open wound when he finished reading the mail.

 

Fool!

 

He should have known better. It was an innocuous enough piece of information that he couldn’t believe Jude will be that careless to send to this mail. He was getting careless and needed to be taken care of immediately.

 

There would be no loose branches sticking him in the eye on this one.

 

********************************************************************************

Lagos, Nigeria

January 17, 1997.

2.22 P.M.

 

“We got him.”

 

Wemimo and Biodun scrambled to Jide’s desk and peered at his computer screen. There was nothing to be seen other than long undulating lines up and down the dark screen. The lines, greenish and as long as millipede’s legs, said nothing to their untrained eyes. But, if Jide said they got him, then they believe him.

 

*******************************************************************************

Kano, Nigeria.

January 17, 1997.

2.25 P.M.

“I want you to remove our contact in Lagos. Do it latest tomorrow. I want a full report once the objective is achieved.”

 

He clicked off the line.

 

Then he clicked in a series of numbers, “Call and pass on this message to the rest. We roll out 0400hrs Wednesday,” he listened for a few seconds to the feedback from the other person on the line, “yes, I know it was not the pre-agreed schedule. I know it is not the pre-agreed schedule but I was given complete operational and tactical powers on this. So, I say Wednesday.”

Another pause, “good and good luck.”

 

He clicked off again, removed the SIM card and put the pieces in his pocket.

Lagos, Nigeria.

January 17, 1997.

2.45 P.M.

Jide was able to retrieve copies of most of the files in the minister’s computer drives before the connection was severed and the back door “shut and sealed”. The data and files had quickly being processed and the encrypted files identified and separated. These were then copied and the copy was sent to his friend in the SSS. The other set was what Biodun was now staring at, trying to identify which of them looked like the one she stumbled upon the first time.

 

She was still looking at them when her intercom buzzed. She picked up the receiver, listened quietly then squeezed up her face at something said on the other side, “Who? Mr. Dozie?”

 

Jide caught her eye with a flick of the finger and gestured to her to hand over the receiver, she obediently obliged him and he spoke into the mouthpiece, “please let him and his maintenance team in.”

 

The confusion on Biodun’s face became even more pronounced on hearing the mention of ‘maintenance team’, her questioning gaze was answered by Wemimo, and “I think those are the guys from the SSS.”

 

“Yes, they are the team that had been sent down to watch over Jude while we set up other traps here. Already, we have that mail which is incriminating enough to rattle him. But, we need to be able to have more so we can have him in a pretty cinch when we knock him with the allegations.”

 

The door opened and four men in pink coveralls and white sneakers were led into Biodun’s office. At a glance, they looked like members of a hip-hop group or members of a sports team. She however knew better now after what Wemimo had said. They were in costume to further hide their presence and true purpose.

 

Jide quickly made the introductions and led the men through the situation up to the present moment. The leader of the team, a tall man who looked to be in his thirties began to lay out the broad outlines of their operational plans.

 

“We are here as staff of your maintenance team,” he pointed at Wemimo while the rest of his team turned to reveal the name on the back of the coveralls, it was that of his company. “Two of my men will be stationed downstairs working on the grounds. They will find something to do and will be out of everyone’s way. I and Collins here will be in and out of offices especially that of our quarry to see if there is anything else we can turn up. That is the plan madam and believe me when I say we are very grateful to you for this tip. There had been a lot of chatter about something going down soon. But, we had not been able to track down the trail to its source. Back at base, we all think this is the real deal.”

 

Biodun and Wemimo shook hands with the team as they were led out of the room by Jide who came back a few moments after depositing them with the secretary.

 

He looked over at Biodun and smiled at her, “now, find us that file and hack it like you did the first time.”

 

******************************************************************************

Lagos, Nigeria.

January 17, 1997.

4.21 P.M.

 

He had moved directly to the new HQ of BK Infometrics Inc. immediately he hung up the phone. Dogo knew that an instruction as the one he had been given was only given because the imperative of carrying it out was immediate.

 

So, he had shelved his plans for the evening and gotten himself to the new headquarters before the closing time. He knew the contact by sight, he had scouted him so many times and it would be no problem. He also knew his routine.

 

He leaves the office at 5 p.m. everyday. He had not missed that time all the while he had scouted him out. He will rather take his work home to finish than finish it in the office, so Dogo was confident as he sat in his car in the parking lot next to Jude’s car that he would not have longer to wait to clean out this particular slate for his bosses.

****************************************************************************

January 17, 1997.

4.41 P.M.

He had been struggling with his conscience since he saw the stories in the papers. She was a good woman and he was also not a bad man. Together, they were very good as a team and a couple. He had observed Wemimo Martins very closely and had come to a realization – the chap was meant for Biodun. He was the anchor that moored all her raging emotions to a constant harbor. He was the sailor that expertly guide her ship and steered it clear of all the many icebergs lurking in her sea. He had her compass in his palms, and it was the same the other way round.

 

He had noted it from the first time when he met him and subsequently when he started work on this building.  The connection between couples that were meant to be, the attraction ingrained from the first time they had met.

 

They were a nice couple together and he could see they were meant to be together.

 

The stories about Wemimo’s history in the U.K which had appeared in the papers and how he shot into limelight with the “Eggshell” were obvious plants from the MoA. He had been the minister’s mole for the past three years. He had gathered all forms of information for him and had been asked to do sundry other tasks. He knew something was on, but he didn’t know exactly what it is.

 

But, whatever it was that the minister was up to he knew it was no good and felt he needed to do something about it. He also knew he had to leave and disappear pretty fast. He had a foreboding something bad was about to happen and he had no intention to stay around to find out what. If the minister would go as far as smearing another man in the papers, which he had done before, he didn’t want to know what else he could do.

 

So, he’d typed his resignation letter that morning. Then debated whether to approach Biodun personally and confess or leave her some clues and snippets. He had thought long and hard and now as he cleared his table, he finally decided he was too ashamed to look her in the eye and admit all he had done.

 

He pulled his laptop towards him, relaxed his tie and began to type.

 

Outside of his office, a janitor in orange overalls kept a watchful eye on all his actions while he reported every minute detail to others via the headphone device he had plugged to his head.

********************************************************************************

January 17, 1997.

4.50 P.M.

 

Jide dropped the phone he had held to his ears for the last couple of minutes. He was their Mission Station Master now, all the information back and forth between the SSS team and them was funneled through him.

 

“They are reporting that it seemed like our guy is planning to cut out. His table has been cleared and he had been acting agitated…like someone with something on his mind.”

 

Biodun looked a bit jaded Wemimo observed, but she had done well. She had found the files and had decrypted it within minutes. The decrypted file had been faxed through secure channels to the SSS and already surveillance teams were already on to the other guys whose names had been found on the documents in the file. Also, Biodun had printed out another copy for her meeting with the president tomorrow. She had also asked her secretary to book her two tickets for the first flight out of Lagos for Abuja.

 

“You are coming with me. I can’t trust myself to stand up alone.” At the time she had looked it, but now looking at her, Wemimo felt some of the color was back in her eyes. She just needs to sleep.

 

Jide’s phone buzzed again. When he dropped the call, he looked over at both of them like he was trying to gauge whether to fill them in or not, finally he spoke “a known hired assassin had been spotted in your car park. The guys are suggesting you stay up here and pretend to work late. It is not yet clear why he is here, but they think it is safe you don’t come out till most of the staff is gone to avoid confusion and reduce the likelihood of success for him in the general mayhem that might ensue.”

 

“Oh my God!” Biodun’s cry of despair got Wemimo moving before anyone knew what had happened. Wemimo quickly covered the distance between them in seconds, “everything will be aright babe.” He folded his arms around her and held her tight as he felt her trembling in his hands. “We will just wait this one out till everyone is gone, then we can be sure why he is here and for whom exactly.”

 

******************************************************************************

January 17, 1997.

4.57 P.M.

 

He printed out the documents and the letter he had typed and folded it into an envelope. He left the envelope on the table and left without looking back at the office. He was done here.

 

He nodded to the janitor on his way out, his mind preoccupied with other thoughts which ran amok with little desire to control and keep them in check.

 

He didn’t notice the other man standing by the door or the fact that he followed him downstairs as he made his way to the car park.

 

******************************************************************************

January 17, 1997.

5.07 P.M.

 

Dogo spotted him immediately as he made his way towards his car. Tall, fair skinned and wearing that spectacle that gave him a professorial look. He watched him as he approached his car. From his position, getting to him is only a matter of seconds and he could further block off his escape route with his car door. The way it was, once he got close enough to open the door to his car Jude was a dead man.

 

He quietly slid out his Ka-bar as Jude approached the driver’s side of his car, unclasped his seat belt, sprung the locks on the doors and waited with bated breath – a fox waiting to spring on an unwary prey.

 

He was so engrossed on his quarry he failed to spot the man standing in direct line behind his rear car window. The man had observed the change in his body shape in the car and had immediately parted his suit, his hand going carefully into the inner jacket pocket, as if he was looking for a pen. The movement was lost on Dogo and he also failed to see the janitor in orange, who had been painting the outer wall railings directly in front of Jude’s car jerk his head sharply at something coming into his ears through the headphone he had clasped on, then reach into his paint bucket again.

 

As Jude opened his car doors and made to get in, Dogo slid his own doors open thus boxing him against the walls with no escape route other than to get in the car and try and lock the doors. But, he couldn’t do that quick enough Dogo knew. He had his prey and he was coming in for the kill.

 

He raised his Ka-Bar and was striking down on the still unwary Jude when he felt a sharp pain in his wrists. He dropped the knife and held the broken wrist, blood spilling from an injury inflicted by the shot fired by the man at the fence.

 

“Freeeeeeze, don’t move and don’t try anything funny.”

 

He knew he was useless without his hands, so he didn’t struggle as he was struck down from behind and his hand clasped in handcuffs. He could hear the noise of frightened people as they ran away from the scene while others tried to have a better view of what was going on.

 

He also heard the confused babble of incomprehension coming from the bewildered Jude, as he tried to come to terms with what has just happened. He also heard, as he lay on the warm paved ground, Jude’s rights been read to him as he was arrested.

 

He had been captured and he knew it. The game was finally up.

 

He heard the crackle of a walkie talkie chatter, then a voice announced “we got him and the other one. Eagle 1, 2, 3 and 4 reporting and we are bringing them in immediately, over and out.”

 

Dogo had been in the game long enough to know he had come to the end of his own race in this play. His curtains have dropped and he was going to be cooling off for a long time if not forever.

 

******************************************************************************

January 17, 1997.

5.13 P.M.

 

 

“I am happy to report that the fellow had been captured. His photograph is coming to my phone in a couple of minutes for you to identify if you had seen him before. In the meantime, there were no casualties and Jude is also under arrest. This situation has been blanketed – the arrests is not going to show up on any security channel yet till the investigation is over,” Jide paused to pick up his buzzing phone, “ the picture just came him.” He plugged the phone to the USB cable attached to his laptop and blew up the picture on his computer screen. “Does any of you know him?”

 

At first, Wemimo was not sure if he was been tricked or not. But, it was the same man. There was no doubt about it.

 

“I have seen him before….” His voice trailed off as he tried to remember. He squinted his face as the picture became clearer in his mind. The man he had seen a long time back, a man he had taken for a competitor. He couldn’t believe it, but he was staring at the picture of the same man.

 

“That man was in your office when I came to talk to you about the Eggshell, Biodun. He was there when I came to pick up the order, when we had our first meeting. He was seating at your front desk. At the time, I had thought he was a competitor. Another contractor or something. Wow!!! These guys had been at it for a long time and it makes me pretty mad they had been tailing us this long.”

 

He sat down heavily on the sofa. He couldn’t believe the extent of detail that had gone into the planning of the whole scheme by the minister. But, seeing that face told him they had been pawns in a chess game for a long time. Him, Biodun….and….Katherine.

 

The thought expanded his chest to cracking point. It was impossible, yet like a flash of light the truth became clear and incontrovertible. It was staring him right in the face….

 

The same face.

 

“Wait a minute!!! Holy Moses!!! I also saw this guy one other time. At the time, I did not even get this close to remembering it was him. I saw him in the Seychelles!”

 

Biodun looked at him like she was seeing at a ghost or hearing someone speaking in a foreign language, she looked totally lost. “You don’t remember? The man I told you helped me out of my fix in the Seychelles.”

 

Now, she seemed to understand and also sat down heavily beside him. On the other side of the sofa, Jide Sanisu looked at one face to the other trying to understand what they were talking about.

=========================TO BE CONTINUED======================

Postscript:

Hi Guys,

The story gradually grinds to a halt.

After this comes the last installment on EGGSHELL.

I hope you have enjoyed it so far? I wouldn’t know if you have or not since I am not getting any feedback from you guys.

I see all of you reading, even got your mail address, times you logged on and how for how long, but you don’t leave comments to help me know how the story affected you and where it needs improvements.

These are critical things for writers, feedback. It is the only way we can gauge the “acceptance” of any work we put out here. I don’t even mind if it is ‘harsh criticism’ – common guys, how else would I learn?

After Eggshell, I will be running a series from a friend. Her name is Sally – many of you guys know her as Moskeda or Moskeda pages.

Her series Fish Brain Clan will run here from April 1, 2014.

I tell you, this is one heck of a story to follow!