Hard Man

24

"Are you a witch?"
    — General Babalola

When Des arrived downstairs, the living room was empty. She stalked out of the door and met a six-vehicle convoy parked and running in the compound.

Armed officers were strolling about, some with guns and some without. In the midst of the throes, she sighted Mohammed. He caught a glimpse of her and waved, a bashful smile on his lips as his eyes traveled down her body before turning away sharply.

Des smiled to herself and walked towards him. She was dressed scandalously, and it was a deliberate attempt to rebel against the General. It was a backless halter gown that barely went past her butt.

From the front, you could see her nipple piercings poking through the flimsy material. From the back, her waist chains were on full display because she was bare from the waist up. She wasn't totally comfortable with the outfit, but she was sure the General would send her back into the house after one glance at her, so she persevered.

"Hi." She stopped in front of Mohammed, forcing him to look at her.

"Hello, Miss Des. How are you this morning?"

"Fine," she answered. "The General said we're going out. Do you know where?"

Mohammed's eyes narrowed, and just as he was about to speak, she heard the stomping of feet as soldiers saluted behind her. She turned to see the General approaching their vehicle. He had changed into another uniform, similar to the first one, but a darker color.

"Do we have an address?" He asked Mohammed, completely ignoring her. He didn't even glance at her outfit.

"Yes sir."

"Let's go." He opened the door and finally turned to her. "Get in."

There was a certain urgency in his voice, and Des knew not to argue. She climbed into the vehicle and scooted to the edge of the seat. Babalola climbed in beside her and Mohamed took the seat across them. Des sat quietly as Mohammed hit the roof of the vehicle and they lurched forward. From the window, she saw the other vehicles in the convoy pull behind them.

"Sir…" Mohammed spoke up after a few minutes. "The President just texted the address of Danjuma's family home. He wants to know if you'll still make it to the burial."

The General didn't respond and Mohammed turned to look out the window. Des sent the General a side glare at his blatant disregard for Mohammed, but he wasn't paying her any attention either. She shook her head and mirrored Mohammed's actions by looking out the window.

***

By the time the vehicle pulled up to the garage of the Abuja Forensics Center, Division B, Babalola was bursting with the need to jump out and away from Chioma. He was hyper-aware of her, of every sigh, every breath, every move, and she was sitting so close to him, he could smell her. He exited the vehicle even before the driver killed the engine. Mohammed was suddenly behind him, as uniformed men trailed out of the center towards their convoy.

"Stay in the car with her," he said to Mohammed. "Don't let her out of your sight."

Before turning away, Babalola saw Mohammed's eyes narrow with displeasure. He didn't question it because it was none of his business. It didn't matter what Mohammed wanted, what mattered was what he wanted.

"Good morning, sir." A tall, lanky man approached, with other men behind him. "I'm DanFodio. Welcome to our facility, sir. Welcome."

Babalola shook his hand, then followed him into the building. "Why didn't you request for the specimen to be delivered to you?" Danfodio asked, ushering him into a laboratory with white sterile walls and state-of-the-art equipment. "You didn't have to come all the way here yourself, sir."