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Saturday, 31 October 2015

RoadKill Season 1 Episode 10


Mba walked slowly into the Senate President's office, afraid of what the latter would do to him for his failure. Senate President Micheal Aghedo sat stiffly in his black cushion arm chair. His office had a large expansive space, with beautiful potraits of himself hung on the walls around his office. Painted in a dull grey colour, and with the constant chilling air blowing from the air conditioners, the office space could creep some people out. It had an eerie feeling to it, although that might probably be because Michael himself was evil.                                                                                                                       "Ahem!" Mba croaked, announcing his presence.                                                                 Without looking up from whatever he was writing, Michael answered, "Oh, I know you're there, just hold on a minute, let me finish with this." A few moments later, Michael Aghedo dropped his pen and removed the dark rimmed glasses on his face and settled it carefully on the desk before him.                "Status report," The middle aged man ordered.                                                                                      Staring blankly at his boss' brownish desk made from Iroko wood, Mba gave his boss the bad news. "Senator Bolade Akanji got away."  With no noticeable visual expression on his face, Michael recoiled further into his arm chair and demanded clarification from his top henchman. "Care to enlighten me what you mean by that?" He asked in a flat, suspiciously calm tone.  Mba knew his boss well. He was well aware that Michael rarely showed any emotion. He had always wondered what had happened to his boss that had made his so stoic, so cold. "Er...Sir...we ran into an unexpected problem. Senator Bolade had a driver, a very good driver who..." He stopped short as he saw his boss's glaring stare penetrated into him. Mba began to fidget. "The...the driver...I think he has some sort of military training. He took out many of our guards...he...he..."                                                    
  "Enough of your rambling Mba!" Michael ordered. Mba kept mum. The Senate President went on. "This driver, do you know who he is?"                                                                                 "No...no," Mba stammered.                                                                                                                                       "Then find out!" Michael beamed. "I want to know who he is and where he's from. I want to know everything there is to know about this driver."                                                                                                   Mba nodded and started striding towards the door.                                                                       "And Mba," the Senator President called. Mba stopped and looked back. "If you fail me again, I would no longer have any use for you."                                                                                                           Mba gulped, "Under...understood sir," he replied, and walked out the door.  
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It had been two weeks since Timi's insane adventure with Senator Bolade. He loved adventure, loved the feeling of adrenaline flowing through his veins, but, that brush with death, had left him a little bit jolted even though he didn't show it. Nevertheless, the past two weeks had been quite awesome. The Storm Chasers had bagged all their races and were now in twenty-second spot. A few more races and they would be in the top twenty. It was a sunny Saturday afternoon and the Storm Chasers had decided to go customise their cars at Arewa Customz, one of the best car custom companies in the country. Idris brought his beloved Nissan Skyline; Aisha, her much cherished Chevrolet Cobalt SS and Timi brought his all new Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution final edition, courtesy of Senator Bolade. Timi had almost screamed his lungs out when he arrived back at Abuja two weeks earlier to meet an all black Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution waiting for him at Bolade's mansion. Timi had signed the ownership papers and driven the car back to his house with great pride. The Mitsubishi had a 400 horsepower supercharged 3.0 litre V6 engine. It packed 450 pound feet of torque, had sodium filled exhaust valves, a five speed manual transmission and reached a speed of 100km/hr in four seconds. It was no surprise that Timi had won many races for his crew in the past two weeks with his new ride. 

He had suggested after their last race that they customise their cars, his friends had agreed. Now they carefully packed their cars at Arewa customz and waited to be attended to. Idris sat atop the hood of his car, not minding the blazing heat from the sun. Aisha stayed put inside her car, waiting patiently to be attended to, while Timi stood beside his car, with Bridget adjacent him. Bridget had more or less become a member of the Storm Chasers, with her help via the com links she had bought for every member of the crew, they had won many races and prevented a re-enactment of the accident that had put Idris in the hospital.                                                                              

 A 2012 Ford Mustang Shelby drove up, followed closely by an Aston Martin DB9 and a BMW M3 Coupe-it was the Hell Racers, Asiwaju Derele's crew. The cars pulled up not far from the Storm Chasers, and as soon as Derele and his crewmates Ugo Ebowa and Zuwa Usman stepped out of their vehicles, they went looking for trouble. As they approached the Storm Chasers, Aisha busted out of her car and headed for Derele, but Idris stopped her, grabbing her by the arm.                                        "I see we have the Storm Chasers crew here," Derele said, chuckling to himself. "Storm Chasers...what a lousy name. Always chasing, but never catching up."                                                    "Oh we're catching up, catching up with you. Or haven't you heard, we're the twenty-second now, and we're facing you next," Aisha replied, breathing heavily.                                                                        "Is this the Derele?" Timi asked. Aisha nodded positively. "Hmm, clearly not how I imagined him. He looks like an addict who hasn't taken a shot in months. Dude have you ever heard of shaving?" Timi mocked.                                                                                                                                               "Catching up?" Derele asked mockingly. "I guess you guys haven't heard then."                             "Heard what?" Idris asked sternly.                                                                                                                      "That I've made it into the top twenty. My crew is now the twentieth crew on the racing table, and you guys can't face me until you beat the twenty-first. So, you're not racing me next," Derele answered.                                                                                                                                                            "So that's why you're so happy. How long did you stay stuck at the twenty-first spot? Twenty years?" Timi mocked again.                                                                                                                                 Now a little bit calmer, Aisha added, "It doesn't even matter that you've made it into the top twenty. We'll beat whatever crew it is that's now in the twenty-first spot, and after that, we're coming for you."                                                                                                                                                                Derele made a face like he was scared, then burst into laughter. "I'm not afraid of you. When we do meet, be rest assured that I'll beat you," he said, then he started to walk away.                                     "Derele!" Timi called out to him as he walked away. "How could you do that to them? How could you betray them like that?" Timi asked. "They were your crewmates, your friends. And you sold them out for a spot on another crew."                                                                                                       Derele turned round and smiled. "Timi, that's your name right?" Timi nodded in the affirmative. "Well Timi, let me tell you something. I saw an opportunity, and I took it. I was offered a seat on a better team, and I welcomed it. You would have done the same in my shoes."                                              "No...no, I wouldn't," Timi countered. "I would have stuck with my friends."                                            "Everyone has a price Timi...everyone," Derele replied. Then acting like he was just seeing Bridget for the first time, he asked Timi. "That your girlfriend?"                                                                      "Yeah," Timi replied. Just then, four Arewa Customz workers came to attend to them. Derele was about to say something, but then decided against it. Instead, he walked off.
Timi dropped Aisha off at the market. She had some groceries to buy before making her way back home. The first thing Timi did when he got home was take a shower. It was blazing hot, that made the third time he was getting into the bathroom that day. As he lowered himself into his bathtub, he closed his eyes and imagined himself coming out tops in the race he had that night. Just as he was about to let out water from the shower, his phone rang.                                                                            "Urrgh," he groaned. "Talk about bad timing." Timi climbed out of the tub, wrapped his towel around himself and went to pick up his phone. It was a strange number. The first thought that crossed Timi's mind was not to pick the call. Yes the last time he picked a call from a stranger he got a Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution, but he was also chased by mean looking murderous henchmen, shot at by assault rifles, had a missile launched at him from a rocket launcher, had his former car destroyed, kidnapped and shoved into a van, taken to an offsite location to be executed, shot at again, chased by murderous henchmen once more before barely escaping with his life. God knows he wouldn't want to go through any of that again anytime soon. The call died. Timi shrugged and started walking back towards the shower, only for the phone to start ringing again. Timi groaned again, this time louder than the first time. He snatched up the phone and bawled, "Who the hell is this?" Only for him to hear the whimpering and moans of a lady...a lady that sounded exactly like Bridget! "Bridget?" Timi asked, thoroughly confused.                                                                                                "Tim...Timi...they've got me..." The phone was snatched away from her.                                                "Hello? Hello? Hello!" Timi beamed into the receiver.                                                                                       "Hello Timi," a devious voice sounded at the other end.                                                                         "Who the hell is this? And what have you done to Bridget?"                                                                    The person on the other end chuckled. "I'm disappointed you've forgotten the sound of my voice so soon?"                                                                                                                                                      And immediately Timi realised who it was-Derele. "Derele," he said into the receiver.                       "There we go!" Derele beamed happily.                                                                                                  "Let her go Derele, whatever you want, leave her out of this."                                                               "Actually, we both know how this works. I make demands; you do them; you get your princess back. I make demands; you don't do them; you get your princess back... in pieces. So come meet me in twenty minutes at Mileage Road, stop exactly at Mileage parking lot. Remember, twenty-minutes." With that, Derele cut the call. Timi got his clothes back on faster than he could ever drive. In fifteen minutes he was at the meeting point, and he was as angry as hell. Derele was already there waiting for Timi. Derele stood, leaning his back against his car. Timi pulled up and hurried to meet him.                                                                                                                                                            "That was pretty fast; fifteen minutes, and I gave you twenty," Derele said.                                  "What do you want from me?" Timi fired.                                                                                                        "Straight to business, I like that," Derele said. "Well, it's simple really. Throw in tonight's race; make sure neither you nor any member of your crew wins tonight's race."                                              "You want me to betray them like you did?"                                                                                                    "Don't think of it like that, think of it like you're doing them a favour..." Derele said.                    "Oh yeah, and what favour would that be? Timi asked.                                                                                "Not having to go through the displeasure of having their butts kicked by me."                               "I won't do it Derele," Timi refused.                                                                                                               Derele gave a long hearty laugh. " First of all, you can just call me D. Second, I don't think you understand newbie, you don't have a choice. I told you earlier, everyone has a price. Mine was money, yours... yours is love."                                                                                                                        "You're sick, you know that?" Timi said. " You're a twisted, bloody psychopath."                     Derele laughed again. "That's funny, that's exactly what my mother said when I used all her retirement money to buy my first race car," Derele said. " You see Timi, I don't play nice, I don't play by the books. I've never been that way, never will be. I do what I know has to be done to get to the top."                                                                                                                                                                                           Timi moved closer to Derele. "Cheats never make it to the top," he said.                                        "No, they don't," Derele agreed. "Only those who are determined, strong willed, and focused...do. And there is no one more determined out there than I. If anyone stands in my way of greatness, it's only fair I remove the person from the equation."                                                                   
Timi attempted to speak. "This is not a debate Timi," Derele cut in. "Lose the race tonight, and win your girlfriend back. Win the race, and lose your girlfriend. That's fair isn't it?" Derele opened the door to his car and got in. He fired up his engine, leaned his head through the window and said to Timi, "Know this, if you try anything funny, you'll never see her again." Then Derele drove off.



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