In the dark, damp cell that smelt of urine, Elizabeth stood by the rusting iron bars clutching her handbag to her chest. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she shook with terror. In the far corner, on the floor that was too dirty and too wet to sit upon, a woman was curled up in the foetal position, her body against the wall and her clothes torn around her. She hadn’t moved or made any sound since two police officers led Elizabeth down the corridor past other cells full of men and shoved her into the cell. An hour had passed since then. Elizabeth’s voice had become sore from shouting her pleas of innocence through the bars. Only other detainees responded, declaring their own innocence or warning her to stop before they broke into her cell to fuck her until she shut up. The police didn’t come. She stood by the bars, clutching her bag to her chest, shaking with fear, afraid of the male detainees in the other cell, and of the officers when they returned for her.
An unopened bottle of schnapps in his hand, Ibrahim stood in front of his officers in a room in the back of Bar Beach police station – officers who had gone with him to the operation at Fiki Marina; desk officers who never left the police station; battle-trained officers of the special task force, Operation Fire-for-Fire; and officers who were off duty but had heard the news and returned to the station. Sergeant Hot-Temper was among them, still in his undercover gear, his eyes red from crying. A few of his Operation Fire-for-Fire colleagues patted his back. Some of them also needed consoling.
‘My friends,’ Ibrahim said. ‘My brothers, my sisters, my family. We have lost one of our own today. Fati is no longer with us. She has fallen in the line of duty. The bagas that took her from us have fled like the cowards they are, and they have gone into hiding. But if they enter water…’
The officers answered, each in their own emotion-laden voice, ‘We will swim and fish them out.’
‘If they enter rock…’
‘We will break inside and bring them out.’
‘If they grow wings and hide on trees, nko?’
‘We will turn into winch and chase them down.’
‘And if they die so that they can hide in hell?’
‘We will follow them and tell Satan to hand them over to us.’
Ibrahim twisted off the cap of the bottle in his hands, poured some onto the ground, then took a swig and handed it to the female officer standing next to him. He sang the first line of a requiem in broken English and before he was done, the other officers had joined in. Their voices echoed through the corridors of the police station. The detainees listened in silence in their cells. The officers passed the bottle of schnapps from one to another, each giving Fatima her share before sipping theirs.
Two police officers walked between cells while suspects hurtled to the bars from where they watched the officers passing. The officers stopped at the last cell. Elizabeth’s face was streaked with tears. She shook her head, pleaded with them to help her even as she backed away to the cold wall. An officer unlocked the door and pushed it open.
‘Are you ready?’ he said.
Elizabeth shook her head. Tears rolled down her cheeks and her belly felt weak. She couldn’t walk. The woman who was curled up on the ground raised her head and looked at the officers. They entered the cell and lifted her to her feet.
From behind his desk, dressed in the same combat gear as the men from Operation Fire-for-Fire, Ibrahim stood strapping on a bulletproof vest. He holstered his pistol then picked up the first of six Uzi magazines lined up on his desk next to the sub-machine gun. Combat-ready officers stood in silence around the room, and out along the corridor. The ragged woman the officers had collected from the cell pushed past the men and entered the office. She saluted.
‘Anything?’ Ibrahim said. He picked up another magazine. Files were piled high on his table. On one end was an empty beer carton containing a framed picture of Ibrahim in ceremonial dress, a miniature Nigerian flag and another of the Nigerian police force.
‘She called someone called Felix. I think it was her brother. She asked him to come to the station. She told him a woman and some men in a Lexus stopped to talk to her at Yaba. The woman said her husband had arranged to meet his girlfriend in VI and she wanted to catch him. The woman gave her twenty thousand to take an okada to Fiki Marina. The woman was sending her text messages telling her where to go.’
‘So she’s innocent.’
‘I think so. But we must still check her phone. We will get the woman’s number.’
‘Good. And when her brother comes, arrest him too. Keep him here till we return.’
‘Yes?’
‘Why are you packing your things, sir?’
Ibrahim had just rolled up the cable of his laptop’s charger. He held it in his hands as he stopped to look at the officer dressed in rags, then he placed the cable in a box.
‘You understand that this is an illegal operation we are about to carry out?’ He turned and addressed the rest of the officers. ‘You all understand this is an illegal operation? Including the operation that took Fatima’s life. I did not get clearance for it. You are all safe, you were taking orders from me, so you are protected, but when this is over, maybe even before it is over, I will stop being your boss. Fatima’s death is my fault. We are going to avenge her now, but that won’t bring her back. I asked her to follow me on an illegal mission and she trusted me. Now she is dead. I am asking you also to follow me on another illegal operation. I hope none of us dies, but you must all understand what this is. Please, brothers, sisters, if any one of you doesn’t want to come, I will not think less of you.’
‘All this talk is too much,’ Hot-Temper said from where he stood leaning against the wall, next to the door. ‘Let us go and get the bastards.’
The officers followed Ibrahim out of the station and up the dirt road to Ahmadu Bello Way. Two officers stood in the middle of each lane and held out their hands to stop traffic as the others crossed the road. Pedestrians and motorists watched the throng of men in body armour and armed with an assortment of weapons, cross the road and walk along the sandy path where there was meant to be a pavement. The officers passed the entrance to the Navy Senior Staff Quarters to reach the blue and white gates of Wilmot Point where Navy ratings waiting for them held open the gates.