Hard Man

38

"I want her to have your protection, too. You don't have to protect me. I want you to protect her."
    — General Babalola.

"Mohammed, you're living in your fear and entrapped by it, but the General expects you to be bold."
    — MG Damola

The chatter and laughter from downstairs floated up into the dark room where Ali patiently waited, his gun cocked and ready to fire. He'd been waiting for one hour, and his legs were starting to cramp from standing too long, but he could not leave until he'd crossed this name off the list. Things were getting cranky now, and war was here. He could not afford to fuck up.

Was he a monster? Ali asked himself. He was sitting in a man's dark room —while the man had a fun dinner with his family— waiting for him to walk in so he could put a bullet in his chest.

Was he a monster? Ali shook his head. No, he wasn't.

He had a conscience.

He knew this was wrong. The family was a tight-knit one; he had already deduced that from how much laughter and chaos was happening downstairs. Tonight would be a night that they would never forget. They would mourn their father and would forever wonder why he was killed. Of course, they would never get an answer. Ali also didn't know why he was killing this man.

He didn't ask questions. He only followed instructions.
This was wrong. He would pull the trigger full of regret and sorrow, but he would pull it regardless. He wasn't a monster. The Boss was. The dead Fisher was. The President was. He wasn't. He was a pawn —a pawn that was getting frustrated each passing day.

He wanted to run and hide, but he owed his life to the organization, and he knew the boss would try to take it back if he ran. He was trapped.

Suddenly, he heard the soft fall of footsteps and snapped straight, flat against the wall. He had been so lost in his thoughts that he didn't hear the chatter die downstairs. Dinner was over, and now everyone was retiring to their rooms.

Moments later, the door creaked open, and Minister Bello walked in. He wore a black kaftan, which he took off as he walked to the bed. He had a content smile on his face, and Ali felt another painful pang in his heart. Soon, that smile would turn to horror as death spread through his body.

When Minister Bello had his back turned, Ali pulled the trigger. It was better —more peaceful— this way. One second, he was trying to get on his bed; the next second, he was gone. No pain.

The shotgun had a suppressor, but it wasn't enough to mask the explosion of the gunshot. There was a scream from somewhere in the house, followed by the pounding of footsteps headed for Minister Bello's room.

Ali stalked towards the window and disappeared into the darkness, accompanied by the panicked cries of Minister Bello's family as they arrived in the room.
Three more people were on his list, and Inspector Adigun was next.

***

"I'm outside."

Des read the text message from the General and rushed to her feet. She was in an extremely foul mood and needed to escape the public eye.

As she stormed out of the restaurant, Kay was behind her, panicking. "Where are you going, please, ma'am? Don't put me in trouble, please."

A black jeep was parked outside, and she immediately hurried to it. It clicked open when she was near, and Des jerked the door wide enough for Kay to see the General sitting in it before sliding into the passenger seat. Kay saluted shakily and hung back, relief in his eyes.

The General stared at her with dark, impenetrable eyes, and she stared back. Then he turned away and started the car, pulling out of the driveway. Before she could say anything, his phone began to ring.