Hard Man

35

"I didn't kill your son. But that doesn't matter because we're sending you to him."
— General Babalola.

"Do you like me?"
— Des

These past forty eight hours were some of the hardest days in Mohammed's life. He had watched Des almost lose her life, witnessed the General kill a man on a bloody rampage, and had to maintain maximum composure all through. He needed a break like yesterday, but he'd be playing with his life if he asked the General for one.

Currently, the General was sprawled on his office chair, his legs folded on his table. He looked lost, and Mohammed watched his face, wondering how the General had showed more emotions in the past few a days than he had working with him. This had something to do with Des, and he knew it.

Across the desk, the MG was on his phone, his left eye almost swollen shut, and his lips busted. It was from their boxing match. The General obviously took beating him up very seriously.

The phone in Mohammed's hand beeped and he looked down at it. It was a text from an unsaved number. He stared strangely at it for a moment before opening it, and his heart started to pound wildly at the content of the text:

1420, King's Road Ave.
Benson's hideout.
My regards.

Mohammed read the text several times before shuffling to the General's table. The General watched him advance, his expression blank. Mohammed swallowed.

"Sir, I just got a text from an unsaved number. It contains Benson's hideout address."

The MG looked up from his phone and the General sat up, swinging his legs off the table. "Let me see."

Mohammed handed him the phone, and he skimmed it for a few seconds before handing it over to the MG. "We don't know who this is. It could be a setup."

"Get Sekoni on the phone."

Mohammed took the phone and dialed Sekoni who picked on the first ring. "Sekoni," the General barked. "Any lead on the assignment I gave you?"

"N-n-no, s-sir. I—"

"This boy's an idiot," the General said. "You are—"

"Excuse me." The MG leaned over and plucked the phone from Mohammed's hand. "Hello, Sekoni, it's the MG. What's the update?"

"I'm hitting dead ends, sir," Sekoni said shakily. "The picture you gave, I'm running it through every database in the country and there's no record of this person. I'm still working on it, and I promise to get you something in a few hours."

"Any update on Benson?"

"Not yet, sir. I am-am—"

"Relax, hm?"

Sekoni took a deep breath. "Yes, sir."

"I'll send you an address right now. I need you to run a quick search and verify all the details on it. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"How soon can you get the results back to me?"

"Five minutes."

"Good boy," the MG smiled and hung up. He handed the phone to Mohammed. "Forward the address to Sekoni. He has five minutes."

Mohammed did as he was told. He hurried back to his position by the door when the General started to pace. "What are we going to do?" The MG asked.

"We go there."

"It might be a setup."

"Then we prepare for a setup." He stopped pacing and looked the MG in the eye. "Whoever sent that message knew I was looking for Benson. They knew Benson attacked Des and they—"