Chapter 6: the tide

It had been ten days since the tragic event that remained packed up in our hearts and minds, refusing to let go, happened. Almost the whole of my life was built upon this career path and it wasn't even my decision from the start. I loved my job but if you had asked me that day, 10 years ago, where I saw myself in the future, my honest answer would have been, a thin line between dead and hopeless.

He gave me a choice when I had none and he stuck by me throughout, fulfilling every promise he made to me when I was 22. The countdown had started and no one was safe anymore as all our lives were in danger. There was a very slim chance that it wasn't the Jama'atu that manned the attack but we were running low on possible suspects.

My thoughts reflected immediately on the strange woman I met that night as I thought about culprits. Everything about her was an enigma to me and it seemed as though I was played at my own game that night. I had thought about it a couple of times, what if she was a distraction or some kind of deflection but aside that she might have actually been there for another reason, but then what?

She was another missing piece to the puzzle of that night, a piece I had tried continuously to locate for the past few days now. I started my search when I had learnt that I was the only one who met a woman in red, sitting at our fronts with that description. No one else had seen her and funny enough not even security cameras.

We all promised ourselves that we would honor this day for our Commander and set aside all thoughts about work. He was a great man, never failing to be the patriotic mercenary in defending our country at all costs. It was a painful day for all of us as this man in question, a man of repute had impacted in one way or another, into our daily lives.

As the Sedan drove into the church premises where the requiem mass was to be held, it started raining almost instantly. The rain didn't help and instead it drove me deeper than I already was into my sombre state of reflection.

Reluctantly I recalled, that day when I almost drowned in my own self but a hand reached out to save me.

~~~~

"Beautiful isn't it," I heard a deep voice call out from behind and it had me a little startled as I had thought I was alone in the room.

I turned and saw a weird and unusual looking man. He talked funny and also, he didn't really look like a national. It made me really curious and eager to know who this man was and why he was here when my fate was already decided.

"What is?" I asked a little confused at his question. There was nothing in this room to call beautiful. Was it the chipped off paint on the decrepit walls or the plain table and two worn out chairs at the centre of the room? Nothing in here could be considered clean not to talk of having elements of beauty. It had a strange smell to it too, and just relatively lacked life within but then I guess it depicted what it was used for.

"The rain," the man said while looking in the direction of the window and truthfully I hadn't known it was raining. I followed his stare out the window to find what he saw in the quick plundering drops and was staring at with so much fascination.

"Never mind, I had thought you were watching the downpour," he said with a slight laugh while tucking his hands at his back. It was then I realized he had on a uniform, a black long coat and dress shirt with black boots. It was ridiculous but I thought about the movie, Men in black while watching him, they seemed so similar.

The man walked over to sit and I joined him, still wondering why someone like him was here. He looked like some kind of police officer but a special one.

"Mr. Lade Adenuga, right?" He posed, searching for my response with his pronunciations still funny but almost apt.

I nodded at his question and he pulled out a file from the inside of his coat straight away.

"Are you scared?"

His next question caught me off guard, I thought he was going to run me off on the normal drill like the others but only this man seemed to care.

"It doesn't Matter," I said to him while trailing my eyes away. I was minutes away from my own end, fear wasn't a priority anymore.

We sat in silence, only the sound of raindrops was heard throughout the room for a while before he spoke up.

"I had a son once you know."

The man said and I wondered if he was here to just talk and not to do a job. I didn't know what to reply so I just gave a half shrug, waiting for him to continue.

"You two are identical, well not facially but the rest is so similar."

"Isn't that supposed to be a bad thing?" I asked because the man smiled like I was someone to be emulated.

"Yes very bad," he said and my forehead squeezed in confusion. I guess I would have loved to be proven wrong.

"But," he added again

"You can feel fear and that's a good sign."

The man started flipping through the pages and I found myself staring at his almost bald head. It was bizarre but the sight of his hairless head made me reach out for mine to check if the hairs were still intact.

"How old was your son when he died?" I asked and I instantly regretted it as the man stopped his movements. It was a random thought, since he said we were alike, I'm guessing we had the same fate also.

"17."

Even I felt bad for the man and whoever his son was. That age was just too tender for someone to lose his life when they were almost halfway to the peak. His eyes showed a distant reminder of a pain that was once present but now well hidden.

We were quiet but he broke the silence again.

"I don't wish to see a repeat of what happened to him," he admitted looking straight at me, showing that he patently understood. It was unbelievable almost, how this man made me welcome emotions I had vehemently pushed away.

"You have so much anger Lade, but it becomes a ticking time bomb without a useful channel."

"Stop trying to act like you can save me, the shrinks couldn't even get any good results," I said feeling a bit hopeless and tired of running away from what I would eventually face.

"What if I tell you I can be your channel."

"How?" I asked not trying to put much interest. No one could save me, the one person who could, left me alone in this world.

"I have something," he said while reaching out to get something from his coat again.

My eyes widened when I saw the metal surface of a gun. The sight of it made me look at the man with a cautious glance.

"A gun?"

"Yes indeed. This little piece you see here is the origin of power according to Mao Tse Tsung. Something so tiny could give you so much authority and confidence," he explained but I was still not clear on what the need of this particular discussion was for.

"You want me to kill people?"

"Not in that sense but let's just say, I want you to use this gun as a channel of your energy. Just imagine how unstoppable you would be."

The scenario he created in my head was that of me as maybe an assassin or a hitman. I may not have scruples but I vowed never to take a life in turn for what I've lost again.

"Come work for me Lade."

The question filled the room as I stared at the man's face. He didn't have a wicked glint or smile on his face like drug dealers or normal killers did. He looked friendly, confident and a bit stern.

"As what?"

"A good killer," he said simply like his words didn't weigh tons.

"I can't be a killer."

"I'm not asking you to be a killer, I'm asking you to hold the gun in an honorary manner. Join me in the ICS."

The Incident Command System, I had heard of the notable organisation, filled with men and women of substance and dignity, fighting for the faith of our country. Could I be one of those?

"Just think about it, I don't expect you to give me an answer now," he said before getting up from his seat to leave. I was still in shock and almost forgot to ask for a name

"Who are you?" I asked getting on my feet too.

"Commander Richard Young or you can say your guardian angel," the man replied before leaving me stunned and alone inside the spacious room.

I just had the weirdest conversation in my life with the Commander of the ICS! How is that even possible, I was a nobody, why did he decide to help me?

...

Up till today my question had not been answered and I had thought that maybe, just maybe someday he might tell me why. Now, look at what had happened, if I had been in that room, I would have taken the hit for him. He deserved more than to die in the hands of those criminals.

I felt it again, signs of something I thought had been suppressed a long time ago. My hands were shaking as I gripped the back seat chair foam tighter. I would get my revenge, no matter what.