When the last bullet hit the rear tire of their speeding Land Cruiser, Yinka almost thought the end has come. The tire busted. The car swerved, nearly missing a head long collision with the trailer coming behind them in its u-turn. Sergeant Aliyu actually knew what to do; he didn’t match the brake, he just released all his control on the car, including the steer wheel. Yet that did not help.
The car spanned, somersaulted in its swerve off the road and eventually hit a nearby tree.
“Quick, get out of the car!” Aliyu screamed.
But he didn’t have to say that before Yinka jumped out of the vehicle. The earlier shots from their chasers had initially broken all glasses on the car. It was sheer luck that made the bullets go over them. But who were they? Boko Mallams? Armed robbers? Or just ordinary militants who knew they were carrying a gold box? Whoever they may be, these were no ordinary chasers.
Here they were in the middle of nowhere around Lokoja late in the night. Their cell phones had gotten missing in the bid to escape, and there was no way they could get back-up. Luckily, Yinka managed to strap the bag containing the gold box to his back while the hot chase was going on.
“Run!” The soldier ordered him again.
“To where?” He asked in a reflex. But the soldier didn’t wait for him to reply before taking to his heels. He did likewise, conveniently, and relieved he was wearing T-shirt on jeans. Nevertheless wondering: couldn’t this strong looking soldier at least try to engage the chasers? He had the experience and a gun. They both have taken a rear glance and found out the chasers were just four driving a Mercedes Benz E-class.
He found a nearby tree, and quickly climbed up. Everywhere was dark. The likelihood of the chasers seeing him was slim. His only fear was that a snake might be on the tree. Climbing up and resting on a branch with thick leaves he cursed the escaping soldier. This was the same man who boasted before they left Lagos that he could kill a thousand Boko Mallams members if given the order and wondered why they have to give one gold box to release some white hostages.
In few minutes the chasers came into his view. They should be satisfied if they were robbers; after all, their car just blew up about two minutes ago. For them to continue the chase, they must be Assassins. Yinka hated Nigeria more than ever before in that instant. He wished he were a Ghanaian or an Egyptian, any country other than Nigeria!
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