TAKEOVER

9

Horizon hotel, Dar-es-salaam
"We've arrived, Boss" Nico said, turning his head to Mathew who was busy texting. Nico was his second choice after Isack, mostly because of his playboy tendencies, the man can't think straight if he hasn't got laid. Mathew opened the door

"Don't go chasing girls. I'll call you when I'm done". With a nod from Nico, Mathew got out of the car, admiring the view of the structure ahead. Its whitewashed walls gleamed even at night. Tall, arched windows offering a fantastic view of the Indian Ocean. He cursed under his breath, he hated the fact that Mickey was the one who got an apartment in the hotel

Going through the huge revolving doors, the scents of fresh seawater mixed with jasmine filled his nose, wide corridors lined with local artwork, and fluffy couches set in orderly fashion in the waiting room. He headed straight for the elevator, his cream suit helped him blend in with the crowd, not that he felt like it.

With a ding, the doors closed, he pressed for the highest floor and stood, instrumentals playing through the speakers, his phone rang. It was a text from Ikram :LEGIT

His jaws clenched instinctively, he answered immediately: good. With a familiar ding, the doors opened exposing a lavish hallway, a red carpet covering the whole floor. He cursed again, Mickey had half the floor to himself, fists clenched he made his way towards a big door halfway the hall. He didn't even bother knocking

Inside, the air was filled the smell of cigars. Mathew sat in a leather chair across from Mickey, broad-shouldered, gray haired, he was among the oldest in the family, and the owner of the Vault, the most profitable club in the family. His face seemed thinner than the last meeting they had, worry clearly taking its toll on the 50-year old. Beside him was Leonard, another owner of a club called Club Eclipse, he was younger and more apprehensive, drumming his fingers against the table. Roger Kosmas, the leader of the Kosmas family, stood by a large window, his broad-shoulders bulging under his suit, his hands behind his back as he stared into the waves. The tension between the men in the room steadily rising by the second.

"Okay, let's get started" Roger spoke, his voice laced with venom and authority, but he kept his back turned to the three men.

"Uniforms have been staking my club, something's up. And I don't like" Mickey grumbled, his ragged voice breaking the tension, as he stubbed his cigar into the ashtray.

Roger grunted. "In case you haven't noticed, we do illegal business for life, cops are always watching us. That's nothing new?"

Leonard's eyes narrowed as if recalling a memory. "They've been staking at my club as well. I think Mickey's right on this one"

"Even some of our sellers are scared to move because of the heat" Mickey added, all eyes staring at Roger, who was still facing the view

Mathew leaned forward, voice calm and stern. "Let's get to the real reason why we're here". Everyone's eyes turned to him, even Roger who turned to face the bunch, his red suit probably custom-made molded perfectly with his figure, although a little tight around the arms. "My intel tells that JB is moving, expanding to our territory"

The room went dead silent, none of them meeting Roger's gaze, which had turned dark. "If he thinks that he can just take my territory? He has something else coming" his voice cold, his hands flexed exposing scars.

Mathew remained calm, "But we can't hit him directly, if JB is expanding, that means he's got something in his sleeve. He's highly likely the one tipping off the uniforms. We hit him, the cops will be all over us"

Roger's gaze fell on Mathew, reflecting on the words.

"What if we make it look like an accident and set one of his warehouses on fire?" Said Leonard, Mickey giving a slight nod.