FATHER CONFESSOR - For The Motherland Book 2

Chapter 24

Garikai took a step to the side, and forward. Turning slightly he hit Kyle’s gun hand to the side and followed this up with a punch to his face. He knew Kyle was fast. He had seen him in training many times and he knew he had to finish this quickly. Kyle was having none of it though, and moved his face back just as Garikai's fist brushed slight against his chin. There wasn't enough contact to do any damage but Kyle's hand loosed on the gun and it went skittering across the room.

Garikai moved back a little, creating a bit of space between himself and Kyle. The two men glared at each other, anger radiating off them like the heat off fire. 

“You took everything away from me. You ruined my life. I rotted in jail because of you and I will take something precious from you too,” Johnson said.

“I have nothing worth taking,” Garikai told him coldly. In his head, however, a small name resounded and his eyes narrowed as he glared at Kyle. Kyle’s smirk spread out, widening on his face. He cocked his head to the left and licked his lower lip.

“Are you sure about that?” he asked and Garikai felt the small hairs on the back of his neck and on his arms stand up. He had no time to wonder what that meant because Kyle attacked. Leading with a left hook, he jabbed at Garikai and as Garika instinctively ducked he brought his other hand around and punched at his face. Garikai felt the blow land and gritted his teeth against the pain. He punched back immediately and heard Kyle grunt at the impact of his own fist in his gut.

The two men fought like lions, neither one willing to let up, both having nothing to lose. Blow for blow they matched each other, neither one being superior to the other. It would take one mistake from either man, or a stroke of luck for one to win over the other. As they parried, deflected and punched, they grew tired but they both knew that one of them would have to come out the winner. With a herculean effort, after what felt like hours but was actually closer to twenty minutes, Garikai kicked Kyle in the stomach and when the other man bent over, he  grabbed him by the neck and threw him against one of the walls. He saw Kyle go down, but what he had not seen was that he had tossed him into the area where his weapon had landed when their tussle started. Kyle saw the gun at the same time and scrambled to it on his hands and knees, reaching it before Garikai could get to him. As Kyle picked it up and aimed it at him, Garikai shook his head. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

“What now?” he asked, breathlessly, as Kyle struggled to get to his feet. He wiped some blood away from the corner of his split lip with the knuckles of an equally bloody fist. He needed a moment to think. Being at the hollow end of a loaded weapon was not good for his health.

“You’re still alive, Rukope,” Kyle said. “That should tell you something.”

“Put the gun down, Johnson.”

Garikai could not hide the small smile that touched his lips. Behind Kyle, Tsholo had a gun to the back of his head. 

“You broke your word, Rukope. I told you to come alone. I warned you of the consequences of disobeying my demands,” Kyle said calmly.

Garikai walked up to Kyle and took the gun from him. For a moment he was tempted to punch him in the face or hit him repeatedly with the butt of his own gun. He held himself back, however. They needed to get moving. Time was of the essence. Taking a pair of cuffs from Tsholo’s outstretched hand, he cuffed Kyle’s hand’s behind his back. The whole time Kyle eyed him with an amused twist of his lips. He did not say a word, however, and this concerned Garikai. It was not Kyle’s style to be quiet when something like this was happening.

“Move,” Tsholo said when he was done, pushing the gun against him pointedly. The three of them walked towards the door, with Tsholo keeping a very close eye on her captive. Garikai came and walked beside her, both of them staying alert in case Kyle had an escape plan up his sleeves. 

Tsholo and Garikai shared a  brief look, a look so full of relief and determination and longing that it made Garikai's breath lock in his chest. There was no denying that look. Tsholo's brown eyes spoke to him in a way he had not anticipated would ever happen. In that one look she shared an emotion she had never before expressed. Caring. And perhaps something more. He did not want to preempt anything but he swore she felt something different for him now than she had before. It warned his heart and made him want to pull her to him and beg her to leave this game. To leave both their jobs and go find a quiet place somewhere where they could just be alone together. Away from all this crap that was starting to take a heavy toll on him. Not just his  body but his mind and spirit as well. This has been his life for so long and he had not once thought about retiring. In his kind of work you were usually retired but a bullet, a bomb or a sharp knife between your ribs. That was a fact. And now, another kind of retirement entered his mind for the first time since… well, forever.

He glanced at Tsholo's determined face.  At her beautiful face that had slowly edged its way into his being, from the moment she had first punched him out in Gaborone, to now. At that time, back in Gaborone, it had been a burning lust that had made him hard every time he had thought of her. Now, it was more gentle, an intimate feeling that had him wanting to make her happy and to feel loved. It was an alien feeling that made him want to turn his whole world upside down for her.

It terrified him.

It liberated him.

He wanted to explore it more but now was not the time. The question that begged to be answered ws, would it ever be the right time?

At this point, the three of them had reached the bottom of the stairs. Kyle seemed too placid. Unnaturally so. Garikai's self preservation instincts starting beeping as he watched the tall man walk towards the door. They marched him to the car where Garikai opened the door and helped him inside. Tsholo put her weapon away, went to the driver’s seat and got into the vehicle, clipping her seat belt on. Garikai went and sat next to the still quiet Kyle, doing the same for himself and his prisoner..

“Where’s the stick with the confession in it?” Kyle asked suddenly.

“It’s in a safe place,” Garikai said after a moment. He watched Tsholo as she started the engine and pulled out into the empty street. There was barely any traffic at this time of the night and in this area. She put the gear into second and pressed the accelerator. 

As Garikai’s unease grew, making him squirm in his seat, he looked through the windscreen and his eyes widened.

“Look out!” he yelled as he saw a black van coming towards them fast, with its lights off. As he screamed out his warning, the high beam lights of the truck came on, temporarily blinding them. Tsholo tried to swerve the car to avoid the imminent head-on collision but the truck was already too close. With a loud roar it bore upon them like a raging bull on a lamb, clearly intending to do damage. Somehow, though, it stopped just inches in front of them. 

He saw Tsholo reach for her gun and he whispered, “Don't.” 

Three men had alighted from the car, each carrying submachine guns. They fell upon the car quickly  each one going to a door where the people in the car were sitting. Garikai saw Furange come to his side and he swore under his breath. Kyle's door was opened from the outside and someone helped him put. Once he was outside, he leaned his head in and smiled at Garikai. 

“Well then. This must be awkward for you,” he said before his face disappeared and he was taken to the waiting SUV.

“Why?” Garikai asked Furange.

“Some orders are above your paycheck, Rukope,” he was told. Helplessly, the two people in the car watched as Kyle Johnson, aka Father Confessor, was taken away from them.