Ibrahim stood up and held his hand out for Amaka. He led her past the gazebos, past the outdoor bar, down the jetty and the moored boats, to a grey boat with NNS 455 painted on its bow. It was larger than most of the other boats including the Fiki Express boat taxis.
Ibrahim got on board at the stern. Holding the railing, he stretched his hand out to Amaka but she ignored it and climbed aboard the way he had. Ibrahim opened the cabin door and stood aside. Amaka bent down and looked into the belly of the vessel. Even from the deck she could hear the whirring of computer fans. She descended the steep, narrow steps into the cabin. There were four men inside. Two had their backs to her. They were hunched over laptops on a shelf that ran along one wall. Between them there was a foot-wide, white drone on top of a black, heavy-duty box.
Alex was at the back, sitting on a narrow bed. He nodded at Amaka. Next to him was a man in a brown Ankara, arms folded across his chest, giving a toothy grin. Amaka recognised him even out of uniform. It was Sergeant Hot-Temper. She looked for his weapon. An old AK-47 with a folded metal stock was resting on the floor of the cabin and leaning against his thigh.
‘Madam, you are welcome,’ Hot-Temper said.
Amaka nodded. She moved aside so Ibrahim could climb in. Ibrahim slapped the shoulder of one of the men causing him to cry out in pain. He turned in his swivel stool. His laptop was displaying a grainy image of a road. His left hand was bandaged and in a sling.
Amaka gasped. ‘Captain…’ She tried to remember the name of the secret service agent to whom she probably owed her life.
‘Mshelia,’ he said. ‘But please, call me Bala. You are now a guest of the Nigerian Navy. Please, sit.’
Amaka looked around. The only place was on the bed with Hot-Temper and Alex. She remained standing. ‘Your arm,’ she said.
‘Yes,’ Mshelia replied. ‘I should be in bed, but I hear you’ve been digging up more trouble for us.’
‘I’m really sorry about all this,’ Amaka said.
‘Nah. Don’t say that. We’re just doing our job. Ibrahim and our young friend here have filled me in. I wish we had more time to prepare, but we will get the idiot if he strikes.’
Amaka looked at the image on his computer. ‘Is that…?’
He swung round to face the laptop. ‘Yes. Ozumba. And it’s live. CCTV. You didn’t know we have CCTV in Lagos, did you?’
Amaka shook her head.
‘We like to keep it that way; it makes the criminals lazier. And once he contacts you, we will deploy this baby.’ He looked at the drone. ‘Gboyega here will pilot it and we will get a live feed right in here.’
Ibrahim answered his phone and left the cabin.
‘That one, he likes you,’ Mshelia said.
Amaka nodded, looking around again for a place to sit.
‘Madam,’ Hot-Temper said, standing up, his head almost touching the roof of the cabin. ‘Come and sit here. I want to go and smoke.’
She smiled at him and sat next to Alex.
‘Abeg, jus’ no touch my gun o,’ Hot-Temper said, grinning as he left the small cabin.
‘What about the oyinbo?’ Mshelia said. ‘Guy Collins. He also likes you, you know? If not for him you wouldn’t be here. I mean, well, we were on to the bastards and we would have caught him, but Guy played his part. How is he?’
‘He has returned to England. What time is it?’
‘And by, ‘what time is it?’ you really mean, ‘I don’t want to talk about that.’ I get it.’ He smiled. She smiled back. ‘So, I need to ask you, do you look for trouble or does trouble look for you? First, Malik threatens you, then you almost get yourself killed trying to stop a lynching - very brazen, but not recommended. Then your house is raided. My young colleague here is convinced it was an attempt on your life.
‘Before I lose count, how many lives is that so far? Not to mention all the shenanigans with Amadi. It’s like your life is on drugs right now. On hyper gear. Even a cat doesn’t have that many lives in Nigeria o.’
‘I know, I know. And I’m a good girl o. You won’t believe it, but if you put butter in my mouth, it won’t melt, lai-lai. It’s not like I’m the one looking for all this trouble…’
‘But trouble keeps seeking you out. Mm. When trouble sleep, yanga go wake am.’
‘Something like that.’
‘But your own trouble is for good reasons, if that is even correct to say.’
‘You know what they say, there is no rest for the righteous.’
Ibrahim climbed down the steps, his face creased with worry.
‘What is it?’ Amaka asked.
‘I sent officers to your office. Just a precaution. They’ve just reported a shoot-out.’
Amaka shot to her feet. ‘My staff,’ she said.
‘They’re OK. We engaged them before they gained entry into the building. They managed to escape. They were heavily armed. I’ve sent out a signal for their vehicle.’
‘Do you think it’s the same people who attacked my house?’ Amaka said.
‘It’s possible. They sustained injuries. Every officer on duty in Lagos today is on the lookout for them.’
‘You didn’t tell me you sent men to her office,’ Alex said.
‘That’s where I sent my car after you came up with your theory. I told them to go there and wait till they see her. Then I told them to remain there, just in case you were right.’
‘You could have compromised my mission,’ Alex said.
‘Your mission? Without me there would be no mission. I saved the lives of everyone in that office. I could only spare two people – my driver and a sergeant. Maybe if all the officers here had been there instead of here, carrying out your crazy plan, we would have apprehended them.’
‘It’s my mission and I should have been informed.’
‘Erm, boys,’ Mshelia said, ‘you’re on my boat. My boat, my mission.’ He smiled at them, but their eyes remained locked on to one another.
‘I’m just saying, he should have told me about it.’ Alex said.
‘I don’t need your permission.’ Ibrahim said.
Gboyega raised his hand. ‘There’s something happening,’ he said.
They all turned to his screen. It was scrolling with text.
‘Tango One reported an okada with a female passenger,’ Gboyega said. ‘Tango Two also confirmed. Heading east. Now, Tango Three has reported sighting the same Okada with the same passenger, returning.’
Ibrahim checked his watch. ‘It’s too early,’ he said. ‘Tango Four should have eyes on them.’ He unclipped a radio from under his shirt.
Gboyega was typing when the screen scrolled up; he stopped as they all read the new message from Tango Two: ‘Female passenger alighted in front of Roundhouse. Driver on the move.’
Ibrahim spoke into his radio. ‘Tango Two, maintain your position. Tango One, pursue and pick up the driver.’ He turned to Gboyega. ‘And no one has reported any suspicious movements?’
‘Nope. Nothing.’
‘Any activity from the boat?’
Gboyega scanned his screen. ‘Nothing from Tango Five,’ he said. ‘Tango Two says subject is standing on the road using her phone.’
Amaka’s phone vibrated. She read the message then she held the screen up to Ibrahim and Alex so they could read it too: ‘I am at Fiki Marina. Where are you?’