Muur Chronicles

Chapter 1

The night seamlessly flowed with the cool gentle northern harmattan breeze of the ember months. Everywhere was quiet and calm from Ileju Axis as he trekked in the faintly illuminated night to a pre-scheduled appointment at a proposed inner city location in Dutse, Abuja. The echos of a barking dog can be heard from a nearby untraceable location. Street lights hovered above him but wasn't swayed by the cool gentle wind of the night as he weaved through the dark alleys of the innermost part of Dutse in Bwari District inner blocks late into the night. His footsteps on the ground is the only audible sound he heard as he trodded on cautiously, his destination shrouded in mystery.

He continued down a street after a three minutes walk from the Ileju Axis he stepped off from, and observed a figure huddled in robes. The silhouette from the hooded figure sat down on a pavement to his left in an old doorway along the alley he was walking. He watched him pass, probably observing Steve's face in the darkness the night provided, he thought to himself. Or maybe, another hard drugs junkie! They are usually not lacking in hidden city ghettos like the ones off Ileju Axis from the old abandoned Airport road area of Dutse District, Abuja.

There were two other abandoned streets ahead covered by the dark night which he still had to cover in that dead hour of the night. On reaching Obafemi Street, he crossed a screen which was just fixed right in between the two streets in the billboard above him, and vanished into a dark avenue seldom visited unless you are one of the children of the night.

He continued walking, with a feeling that someone or some people are probably watching him. After taking a few steps, he stood still for a while and listened to make sure he wasn't being followed.

He checked the address he had on him, and it showed he is on track. He brought out another paper from his pocket and looked at it sternly for a while. It contained the direction to follow once he reached this point, given to him by his contact. Following the direction, he turned left, and headed down another narrow pathway to an old abandoned paper factory.

Only the steady and soft sound's of his footsteps on the cement floor made the only noise from his immediate environment as he walked with caution. At the end of the pathway, there was a damp yellow light above a wooden door. A dark silhouette stood near it wearing a heavy cloaked hood attire. Calmly but steadily, Steve approached the door, gave the hooded figure a pass given him by his contact. After taking his time to look through what was handed him, he thoroughly searched Steve before stepping aside to allow him go through the doorway.

He walked in to a dimly lit, large, high-roofed and scantily decorated room bustling with little to no activity. Syndicate members were engaged with smoking marijuana but were all neatly dressed to his surprise though.

There were large tables all around the room. Some people sat around them, speaking in low tones as all eyes turned to him the moment he stepped in. He noticed a gun placed skillfully on one table and spun around by a gang member. A man with a briefcase wearing colorful tattoos sat alone across from the left. He has a visible scar that ran down his left upper face like a quick slash of a blade that probably didn't get its full mark. It cut through his left eyebrow and descended below in a perfect symmetrical curve. Four men sat at the adjacent table, their focus also turned to Steve, whose entrance got everyone looking. There were about ten members around, all Nigerians.

Everyone in the room was holding, but totally concealed from unsuspecting eyes. Other syndicate members in the room were barely reflected in the dim rays radiated by the only bulb in the place. There were those who drew tattoos on their wrists just a little below the wrist joints.
He already knew what to expect, so he was not fazed one bit despite being in the midst of the most dangerous syndicate in the country that run illegal arms business all accross Africa.