֍ Updated, Revised, and Edited: 17/08/2022 ֍
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'You've landed I'll assume, yeah?'
"Yeah…
I'm currently with the hired security team, heading straight to the meeting now, but I have to say, there is plenty of untapped potential resting within his nation alone, let alone across the rest of the continent."
Esmond said to Carter, communicating through their mental link.
After landing in Lagos, Nigeria, Esmond spoke with Carter to ensure the meeting was still on with the former C.I.A Operative stuck on African continent.
Carrying a drawstring boots bag with a few shirts, shorts, and a pair of pants to change into, Esmond arrived in Lagos with barely anything since he knew it could be purchased or brought over from the Spatial Ark Land.
Even though Esmond wouldn't carelessly hop over to the Spatial Ark Land with witnesses, but it was an ease source for clothing or anything else if required desperately enough.
It wasn't a significant matter though, compared to everything Esmond witnessed on the drive to the meeting.
The security team decided to showcase their hometown by driving through the better parts of Lagos before heading to the bleaker parts where crime was rather rampant and ignored.
Driving by the streets, Esmond continued to watch everything flashing past in a second, yet his heightened senses picked up on the countless problems littered throughout the city streets.
It showcased the rest of the nation wasn't doing so well nor was it able to provide basic services to its citizens because of the corrupt government.
Money talked and got the job done, which meant countries like Nigeria were stuck behind in developing their industries compared to other nations.
Society was an evident part of this, but this had to be factored along with the lifestyle of the majority, which influences change and behavioural progression forward.
Sadly, Nigeria couldn't progress forward without its neighbouring nations being affected.
Esmond figured if he rushed Nigeria's improvement, a war would erupt around its borders from the influx of refugees alone.
So, he moved onto the long game to gain everything for Nigeria and its citizens, which drew Carter's attention.
'I know what your thinking, and yes… there is plenty of evidence to catch each of the corrupt figures and fix a whole ton of issues across the country.
But we both know we can't release the evidence without causing the whole government of Nigeria to crash into the ground.
Instead, I've noted the connections between officials and Swiss bank accounts who regularly deposit large sums of 'income'.
They're in fact dropping copious amounts of gold, jewels, and other valuable materials into their accounts.
You'd be left shocked by the amount certain politicians have with their account.
Regardless of that, what do you have in mind, Esy?'
"I want to say 'let's screw with the scumbags', but sadly we can't.
Not yet anyway…" smirked Esmond, only to add, "Keep track of everything placed into the accounts, especially those with higher positions of authority in Nigeria.
In time we'll seize it for ourselves but until then, let the fools continue digging themselves their own graves."
There wasn't anything to stop Esmond from taking Nigeria and making it his own territory.
Even now, if he went on a rampage, his strength would wipe out anything that came in his way.
Only missiles could cause serious damage and possibly kill Esmond, though guns could shred through his body if the bullets it the same mark repeatedly.
But the easier method was missiles for sure, which Esmond figured weren't acquired and installed by the Nigerian Military within high populous zones.
Esmond knew Nigeria had missiles provided to them by the American Military at a 'discount', but most of them weren't in fact owned or controlled by the Nigerian Military.
Rather wealthy individuals controlled the weaponry and redirected where they saw fit, but only if they held the political authority to blind others from their actions.
The greed of the powerful sadly put them all in a terrible situation against Esmond if he were to go on a reckless rampage.
Thankfully, seeing no point in fuelling mass hysteria, Esmond chose the safer option of playing the waiting game, saving Esmond a great deal of bloodshed and external political nonsense getting in his way.
"Such a beautiful nation destroyed by greed…
Seems we will get along just fine…" laughed Esmond to himself while staring out the backseat passenger window of the four-wheel drive car.
His eyes sparkled dangerously, as if on the brink of imploding all that came into view with a simple click of the fingers.
…
..
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At the seaside bar lounge, Esmond entered along with his team of security guards, who split themselves apart to cover as much ground as possible.
One guard remained in the driver's seat of the car, while another stood guard at the front door passenger side.
His main task was opening the door as Esmond rushed to enter the car for a quick getaway, while the remaining two positioned themselves nearby at either a table or the entry into the bar.
They all had a stiff attitude which Esmond didn't mind at all, but he did find it hilarious that they were trying to show their employer how strong and imposing each of them could be.
Each drew on their 'Alpha' personality to seem as intimidating as possible, however Esmond just snickered internally, not wanting to harm the confidence of his security team.
Though Esmond focused far more on his surroundings through the heightened senses, enabling him to comprehend the environment within a radius of several metres.
Moving to the first free table towards the back end of the store that offered multiple exits to Esmond in an emergency, Esmond called over a waiter to order some drinks for himself and his guest, who came over from another table in the back of the bar.
His security team moved to intercept the guest, but Esmond waved them off since there wasn't anyone around who could harm him.
In fact, the presence of the security guards came down to showcasing wealth and power to the local players running the underground scene within Nigeria and more importantly, Lagos.
Plus, the moment Ruby came to learn of Esmond's trip to Africa, she demanded Carter organise a security team to protect her baby boy.
Carter tried to explain Esmond could deal with any problems that'd make their way towards him, yet it failed to assure Ruby, leading to Daniel forcing himself into the discussion so his wife didn't ask for the army to protect Esmond.
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"Hiring big, muscular security guards is like stamping a target on your forehead for all to see…
I can guarantee that several gangs and players already know of you and the location of this bar.
The way you're all behaving makes me think your hiding some valuable jewels or gold on your body."
The guest spoke with a heavy American accent, reminiscent of the west coast, as he took the seat next to Esmond around the square table.
They both stared out towards the front entrance of the bar, making sure the main point of entry was covered in their line of sight, even during their conversation.
The guest looked a little tan from the African heat, and ruffed up by the environment, but the clothes made him look like a Hawaiian gigolo drinking his days away in retirement abroad.
Esmond snickered a little at the guest's comment, replying, "More like I'm my mother's most valuable jewel…"
The guest started to laugh aloud, saying, "Then it should be an army behind you!" only to slap Esmond's back playfully, like they were old friends catching up after a couple years apart.
Esmond smiled, finding the relaxed behaviour of the guest and his comments to be fair and rather straight forward.
Not one to accept praise from others, especially when its overly exaggerated, Esmond found the guest to be rather refreshing, making the conversation pleasant between the two.
"Don't remind me," Groaned Esmond as he started recounting his mother's original plan for his safety in Nigeria.
"When my brother nonchalantly said I would be fine alone abroad, my mother started shouting for the military to protect me the moment I landed.
Thankfully my father settled her down long enough for her to accept reasonable team of four men to guard me during the short trip."
The American couldn't help but laughed under his breath, covering his mouth so the laughter wouldn't reach the ears of the others present in the bar.
"You parent's sound hilarious.
Definitely the type of people I like to drink with haha!" said the American, just to take a heavy gulp of the drink ordered by Esmond, to turn all serious to indicate the discussion moved from pleasantries to business.
As an 18-year-old, Esmond couldn't be all that intimidating to a spy who'd seen combat and fought for his nation abroad, yet the transformation of his body and the added muscular frame matched with decent height created a noble image when paired with Esmond's eyes.
It could be said one can only see another's true self through their eyes, but in Esmond's case they contained the galaxies and universes he'd lived through for an eternity.
The eyes held the key to Esmond's truest self, moulded through the countless lifetimes to create a human being with an unimaginable pool of knowledge wealth to triumph above all else if he so chooses.
Though for someone like the American, Esmond changed a great deal from his original analysis of the young adult.
At first, the American believed Esmond came from a highly wealthy environment which made his life pampered and safe.
The security guards proved his point, or so he thought until he started talking with Esmond and felt a kinship with the young adult that could only be formed with those who'd fought on the battlefield.
It was quite the startling sensation for the American to experience with Esmond, who he thought was nothing more than a young child.
But the American thanked God that he revaluated Esmond before the discussion turned serious, otherwise he most definitely would have turned the meeting sour.
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"Onto business…" stated the American as the waiter turned to leave after handing over another drink.
"So… why did you call for a meeting between the two of us?
If I'm not mistaken, someone such as yourself shouldn't be communicating with a disavowed spy or travel alone in a foreign country.
Especially for an individual who can't be found besides the little information I could obtain through some friends 'Down Under'."
Curious to hear what the American learnt, Esmond gestured for him to continue.
He knew most of his personal information was controlled by Carter, meaning it would be near impossible for the American to know anything, but Esmond still was curious to hear if the man found something.
Taking Esmond's slight nod as affirmation to proceed, the American spoke of what he knew, though it sounded underwhelming, to Esmond at the very least.
"Well… my contacts said your name is Esmond Manston, born to Daniel and Ruby Manston of Adelaide, South Australia.
Besides knowing your date of birth, I know of the high school you studied at, with a list of your final year twelve grades, and I have to say, I am impressed.
Top marks in all of your classes, which extended out across the state.
But unlike the other children who obtained top marks, you've remained under the radar of media and government officials who would typically source out gifted children to aid in national development."
The American gave a rather brief explanation of Esmond according to his contacts and research, much to the satisfaction of the person in question because it meant Carter safeguarded his personal information as much as possible.
Only the bare minimum was released to the government and public, largely for documentational purposes, otherwise Esmond would find it incredibly difficult to open a bank account or to even be considered a citizen if all his information was removed.
Esmond smirked before beginning his own explanation of the guest and his identity.
"Mr… Anton Griskinov, an American citizen who was 'supposedly' born and raised in Russia for the main purpose of remaining a Sleeper Agent abroad.
Trained and forged into a weapon for the benefit of Mother Russia, Anton Griskinov found himself back in the United States, only to spend the rest of his youth training to become a member of the C.I.A.
After a decade serving the government without Russia ever calling for activation, you removed the conditioning set in place within your mindset to benefit Russia.
Am I right so far?" Esmond stopped to ask, only to see the American, Anton, rather pale and confused how someone could gain his personal information that even the American's didn't know.
Anton thought he could ask where Esmond sourced his information from, but in that moment, Esmond spoke first instead, as if already aware what he would be asked of.
"My contacts are rather… silent in nature and kept well hidden, so Mr Griskinov, shall I continue?" a little caught off guard, Anton simply nodded back without taking the moment to think of an answer.
"You ended up leaving the agency on unsavoury terms, only to end up serving Blackwater Security Company.
But we both know your time with them didn't work out so well… after all you've been abandoned to Nigeria and its powers."
Just as Esmond stopped to take a break to order another drink as the waiter came past, Anton struggled to pace his breathing which became erratic by his past history being laid out so casually, by a child no less.
Anton thought back to his own hurried investigation of Esmond, which revealed barely anything, since a fixed address couldn't be found.
Even medical reports, and school transcripts were hard to obtain and only found through a contact within the educational sector of state government in South Australia.
The meeting quickly turned uncomfortable for Anton, though he knew it all started with his own actions, so all he could do now was wait.
Yet what he heard next caught him completely by surprise, because Esmond brought up one of the darkest moments in his past.
"Your mission was wrong… you and your crew weren't.
Just soldiers following orders, Anton." Esmond didn't dive right into the details pertaining to the mission that involved Anton since it was a rather grim task for the Blackwater Security Group to complete.
"… What do you know…?" asked Anton, slightly short of breath and a little anxious.
Esmond sighed heavily, since the details of the mission report bothered him greatly, to the point he'd reread the report at least a dozen times over in the last twenty-four hours.
"The American government employed Blackwater to send a team into Nigeria's regional area to facilitate a window of opportunity.
That 'Window' wasn't for the express benefit of the United States or its allies but a corporation with ties into the Senate and various government departments.
However, nobody at Blackwater did their due diligence to inspect the area of your teams deployment, which ended up smack dead middle of guerrilla warfare between two powerful Warlords.
This led to the discover of your team's position upon landing, which led to a number of unfortunate deaths at the hands of the Warlords and their forces.
Eventually the discovery of Blackwater's involvement reached media through the Warlords and their connections with the Nigerian government after inspecting the dead members of your team.
Am I correct so far, Mr Griskinov?"
Esmond ensured his attitude remained calm and approachable after delving into matters considered buried by Anton.
Bringing it back up caused the former spy to overthink some of his past decisions in the heat of combat, and the subsequent splitting of the team to make their own escape to safety, only to leave the bodies behind of their brethren.
To this day it haunted Anton that the bodies of his team members ended up in the control of Nigerian Military, who couldn't care less about the dead.
Thankfully personal possessions were recovered and sent back to the United States for the family members of the dead to remember their loved ones.
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"You haven't made a wrong statement yet, Mr Manston, but I would like to believe you wouldn't want to waste time talking about the past when the future is so near and… intrusive."
Anton darted his eyes to the main entrance of the bar, as a group of four entered, each carrying menacing expressions while searching through the people present in the lounge for someone of specific interest.
Esmond didn't need anyone to point out the obvious, having understood his showboating attracted attention from the underground scene of Lagos, though the first to make their move happened to be low level thugs.
"Very well, I require your expertise and that of your team who are alive and hiding to survive.
They'll be safe guarded and managed to help them through any troubles they're facing, because the task I have for you all is not simple in the slightest.
Yet it will free you and your old companions from the rut you've found yourselves bound to.
It's time to take control over your own life, rather than dealing with scraps…"
Anton stopped for a moment to take several large gulps of his alcoholic drink before replying, "What exactly are you wanting my old team to accomplish?
Now, I don't want to hear some bullshit excuse or lies because I will walk.
Tell me the whole truth, so I know what my people are walking into…
They deserve this at the very least."
Esmond smiled, knowing he couldn't simply discuss galactic domination and expansion through the stars, when the individual before him had only fought in wars between nations for resources and land borders.
Compared to soldiers from the vast number of lifetimes Esmond experienced, Anton could be considered a puppy dog in his mind, since the spy had yet to deal with deep space warfare.
This benefited Esmond too because Anton and his team could be moulded into ideal soldiers to lead the first deep space military, especially their own special forces team in due time and experience.
"Anton… what I'm about to say might sound… unrealistic and foolish, but I can guarantee you one thing… I will achieve my goal with or without."
The small statement alone grasped Anton's full attention, who was close to gripping the edge of his seat from excitement.
Taking a couple deep breaths, Anton gestured to continue once the excitement settled and his mind gained some clarity.
"*Sigh*… Right…
I want to create an army that doesn't just rival the United States, China, or Russia, but exceeds them all in quality, performance, and ability in the field.
Sounds insane, but I have the wealth and plenty of resources, so why not?
At least I can say in a decade that I've brought healthy improvements to the world, adjusting society for the better."
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A thought flashed past Anton's mind, taking Esmond's plans for a military as nothing more than a child's hubris.
In all honesty, hearing a stranger talk about creating an army to rival three of the global powers and political strengths was definitely a heavy pill to swallow.
Having word for one of the three global powers, while fighting against the other two, for national security and interests, Anton came to realise the young child seated beside him wanted to insert himself into the 'Status Quo'.
Even as an American, though not one who could be counted as 'Patriotic' after the government treated him like nothing more than disposable trash.
A large part of Anton wanted payback against his homeland, even if it meant many might considered him a traitor, or worse.
"Say…hypothetically… I do join you and help create your army after gathering my old team…what exactly will my team and I do?"
Anton dove straight into a business mindset, changing his expression and attitude to match the drive required to survive in the dangerous industry.
It was impossible to remain aloof in such a serious situation when war was an inevitable event once the army formed and became active.
"Your team will be provided new identities and protections under my business operations around the globe, safeguarding you from America and Blackwater.
From there, you will all get in contact with old friends looking to re-enter military work through a private company.
Their loved ones will be protected and moved to another location, ensuring their safety from officials.
It might seem unnecessary to move families from their homelands, but it must be done to achieve a strong and cohesive military.
Army, Navy, Air Force, and Space are the main branches of the military I've devised so far, however none of it can function without an intelligence network.
This all might sound overwhelming right now, Anton, but with preparation and support, everything will easily fall into place and come together."
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Anton considered rejecting the unimaginable task offered by Esmond, largely due to the chances of it failing early on.
The intelligence network of the three main superpowers of the globe could uncover a military being built to rival their own.
Anton knew if he went by numbers, it would be near impossible to find millions of people for a military, while educated to handle heavy machinery and weaponry.
Veterans could fill in the ranks, but many would be suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder, making it difficult for many to return to active duty.
Others could easily add to the educational aspect of the military and aid in taking up official positions that didn't require combat, but Anton figured veterans would take on roles as strategists, rather than positions with great authority.
"Hypothetically… if I involve my team… do we all start sourcing for anyone able to enter the military or find individuals and teams with experience?
Personally, I would prefer the latter option, even if the search for competent people isn't great in number." Anton asked while adding his own opinion on a possible answer.
Instead, Esmond had his own thoughts regarding the requirement Anton and his team would do on a grand scale.
"You'll do a little of both.
Finding anyone you see fit to enter the military alongside sourcing for experienced teams and individuals to join.
I'd suggest you dive deeper into gathering veterans from around the world, like France, Sweden and so on.
They don't need heavy experience in the field because it's possible their position within the military would be noncombative."
Esmond chose to say nothing more, leaving Anton to make his own decision regarding the recruit of military personnel.
Creating a branch of the military driven to focus on Space caught Anton off guard but he understood warfare could easily move from land to air and above within a heartbeat if there was sufficient advancement in technology.
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"Based on everything I've heard, my old team and others I know will want to enter the 'legit' side of Private Military Company contracted work.
Only problem that comes to mind is gathering enough people for the military without alerting an active intelligence network."
Anton knew from the top of his memory around fifty or so old friends and colleagues would jump at the new job offered.
For them all, the enticement of providing care to family members of the recruited would shift them to Esmond's side, while the others would require a secure and permanent job.
At the end of the day, they wanted financial security for themselves and their loved ones in case of an unfortunate accident.
The conversation with Esmond also told Anton that it was possible to draw on roughly two hundred who'd be willing to join the military, but the chances of hiring everyone that Anton wanted wouldn't be possible.
Some wouldn't agree with the move while others prefer their retirement and basic lifestyles to dive back into the churning machine of the military that doesn't stop.
"I best be going, Anton.
There is another meeting I need to attend, and it's evident you've got a lot of work on your plate.
My contact details will be sent to you in due time, so until next time, it was a pleasure meeting with you, Mr Griskinov."
With that, Esmond got up from his seat and moved to exit the bar, with Anton remaining seated as he tried to figure out his next step forward.
There was a great deal of work to be done, and Anton needed all the help he could muster to aid the establishment of a military.
His attention was wrapped by his thoughts, leaving Anton unaware of the thugs exiting the bar right after Esmond left.
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'You have a tail…' commented Carter, after picking up several motorbikes chasing after the four-wheel drive Esmond rested within.
Not one to be bothered by the thugs trying to keep up with the speeding four-wheel drive, Esmond moved onto another subject as the driver raced to meet the time of the appointment.
"Tell me why I need to meet with this 'Jioke Obea' right now?" Esmond questioned Carter while holding his mobile phone to the ear.
It was done to prevent the security guards into thinking Esmond turned mad or senile.
Yet it had a different effect when Esmond brought up 'Jioke Obea', immediately alerting all the guards in the car.
Esmond noticed the change in their demeanour and behaviour but chose to say nothing for now, other than taking a mental note.
His interest became glued to Carter's explanation of Jioke Obea, moving away from the change it brought in the guards.
'The man is known as the Garbage King.
As the controller of all waste entering Nigeria, Jioke hands it over to poverty stricken populous for processing, but sadly there aren't established facilities to deal with the waste processed by the community.
The man is noted to have a bank account in a Swiss Bank, which is filled with funds from the budget given to his department by the treasury.
Though this has left open a perfect opportunity for us to interfere within his illegal operations.
Large shipments of waste from abroad are docking at the ports, but unable to unload anything until a set location is given out to the authorities for delivery.
Unsurprisingly, Jioke is scrambling to find anyone capable of removing the build-up of waste at the ports.
But he won't easily give it up without taking some sort of monetary gift, even if we're the ones helping fix the problem.'
A heavy sigh that reverberated through everyone's soul in the four-wheel drive came from Esmond after learning about the official in charge of managing waste for the nation.
Carter amplified his voice through the mobile phone, even though he communicated telepathically with Esmond, just so the security guards could hear what he had to say.
It ended up causing one of the security guards to laugh aloud, as if Carter's explanation was nothing more than a westerner's tale for children.
"Sir… if you don't mind, any one of us here can give you a detailed explanation of Minister Obea and methods to get the 'job' done."
Esmond simply nodded to 'continue' as the security guard seated to his right in the backseat, started to recount an unfiltered background of Jioke Obea.
"Sir, he might be the Minister for waste, but his own personal connections lead into the underground scene across Nigeria.
Its believed Minister Jioke has a younger brother taking up a seat in Lagos underground scene, after killing the last head of the seat through a military raid.
A bloody affair that caught civilians in the crossfire, leading to a death toll of several hundred people.
To this day, we have not heard a single reason as to why it happened.
Only those who've worked with the government or have contacts inside of certain departments became privy to Minister Jioke's rush to seize power for a family member."
Esmond nodded along before the front seat passenger continued off from where his colleague stopped.
"It's hard to tell Sir, but Minister Jioke is believed to have a tight grip on SARS and their leadership, which aids his control over the poor populous.
Currently, the Minister is exploiting the poor for cheap labour that won't cost him anything, all to increase profit margins.
Its honestly revolting to know the man hated the government during his youth because of its corruption.
Whereas now, the Minister is the face of corruption and illegal conduct throughout Nigeria."
The driver wanted to add his own two cents in the conversation but stopped the moment Esmond instructed him to focus on the road.
"We have company gentlemen.
Driver, get us out of here.
The rest of you need to equip your firearms just in case." Esmond gave short and clear instructions to the security guards who quickly fell into action.
Not a single one of the guards opposed Esmond's orders as his authority bloomed through the effect of the Imperial Training Manual.
Esmond hadn't noticed it yet, but his own aura was exuded onto the security guards, improving their mental focus and drive, while improving reaction time.
The driver for instance, weaved in and out of traffic without any issue, while the others equipped their firearms and steadied their breathing to take aim and fire at a moment's notice.
Esmond used his enhanced senses, fuelled by his spiritual energy pooled by the Imperial Training Manual to notice the motorbikes were roughly 30 metres or so trailing behind.
None of the bike riders equipped a firearm, but they were all packing weapons that could easily be shot off in the heat of the moment.
The driver decided to sharply cut down a side street after seeing the build up of traffic up ahead, leading to a group of motorbikes breaking off the main road.
"Sir… I believe those following us are part of SARS." Said the security guard to Esmond's left, surprising his other colleagues before they came to same conclusion.
"The way their acting isn't like normal thugs.
They are trying to move us away from highly populated and trafficked zones to commit their deed.
Fucking bastards!" cursed the driver, with his tone carrying insurmountable hatred for SARS and their operational methods.
The Special Anti-Robbery Squad became a notorious unit of the Nigerian Police that abused the citizens in benefit of officials running the unit and funding its members.
From committing murder, kidnapping, to thievery themselves, SARS quickly turned into a military force as part of the Nigerian Police.
The driver, an indigenous African named David Okowan had fought with a SARS operative at a checkpoint, which nearly led to his death.
Unfortunately, his younger cousin was shot while running away from the checkpoint, afraid of the SARS operative.
The report simply stated the young man was a thief and caught stealing, yet David knew the report was only formed because his own position at the time connected him to an official of the government.
From that day on, David saw the excuses and corrupt that let the murder of his cousin go free and still work as part of SARS.
David never suspected the man he was hired to protect would have a team of SARS operatives after him, but he figured Esmond would be kidnapped and extorted for money to fuel the pockets of greedy politicians.
The other security guards came to a similar conclusion in their own way, before turning to David for affirmation on how to proceed.
They all had a problem with SARS, since it had affected them one way or another, but with Esmond around, they couldn't ignore his safety for a modicum opportunity to fire upon SARS operatives.
Esmond on the other hand examined the ever-changing surrounding in preparation for a safe exit, ensuring the security guards were safe from pursuit.
He wanted to strike back at the pursuers, but Esmond didn't carry any weapon, nor could he see anything on the side of the alley street to use.
Sighing slightly, Esmond resolved himself to ask those in the car for a weapon.
"Any of you lads have a spare gun?" Esmond asked with a straightforward face, much to the surprise of all four guards, who didn't expect the client to get involved in their local corruption mess.
For a second, the driver, David, took his foot off the accelerator out of sheer shock from Esmond's comment, but he quickly recovered, though not fast enough for the client.
"Pick up the pace!
The bikes are the least of our concern now." Esmond spoke up for everyone to hear, and not just the driver once Carter informed him of two SARS patrol vehicles heading in their direction.
Within a couple seconds, one of the security guard's handed Esmond a firearm with some spare ammo while David instructed everything to buckle up.
Nobody objected because seconds later they exited the alley street onto a main road and slammed into one of the cars Esmond knew were sent out to stop the car and possibly capture him alive.
David had other plans, as he forced the four-wheel drive to push on, since most of the damage to the car was covered by the bull bar.
Everyone still felt the hard thud of the car impacting another but wasn't for long as the sound of gunfire came rushing to their ears.
"Fuck!
Those bastards started firing." Cursed Nolo, the security guard seated to Esmond's left.
None of the shots impacted anyone in the car, but it still didn't bring them comfort when the constant sounds of gunfire hit the four-wheel drive.
"Gentlemen, on my mark, I want you to return fire.
Am I clear?" Esmond sternly commanded, drawing a firm "Yes Sir!" from the security guards just as the sunroof withdrew to give one person enough space to exit the roof and fire.
David turned once more off the main street and onto an alley street, which was narrow enough to make it difficult for too many people to follow at once.
"Fire!" roared Esmond, as he repositioned himself right under the sunroof, and fired through the opening while the other two security guards on the backseat shot their firearms through the passenger windows.
Everyone's heightened focus and enhanced senses enabled clean shots that made contact with a target, with on the bikes trailing the four-wheel drive or inside the remaining car following along.
The driver started to take evasive manoeuvres, while the security guards fired off consecutive and calculated shots that maimed the bikes or car itself.
Esmond couldn't help but smile at the cohesiveness of the team and their operational value if they could be further trained into a special force's operatives.
'Carter make sure to-' It didn't take Esmond's other half to interrupt, already aware of what would be asked of him.
'Don't worry I already have noted the four security guards down to enter the military.
Even I'm impressed by their ability to work together with minimal communication.
They must have spent years together and know each other well enough to understand small gestures of one another.
Protect them at all costs, Esy.
They'll end up being important members of the military if you can secure their trust and loyalty.'
Carter started organising a training regime for the group of four to become elite soldiers capable of fighting like a one-man army.
It would take time and a great deal of effort, but Carter knew Esmond would spend everything he owned to gain trustworthy and flexible people to fight beside.
'Carter, how many more are coming after us?'
'I'm trying to access some satellites above Nigeria right now, but fuck me dead, their imaging quality is atrocious.
I can't make out a horse's arsehole from a donkey's dick with this crap.'
Esmond didn't know what to say, freezing momentarily as he fired off another round, hitting the front tire of a motorbike nearing the four-wheel drive's position.
During tense situations, Esmond also questioned the existence of Carter, largely due to his obscene language and behaviour which would only get worse now that he achieved a bodily form.
'If you have nothing important to say, then shut your trap, Carter.'
Without bothered for a reply, Esmond fired off the Colt .45 Calibre at the pursuers until 30 second window became available for a possible escape.
"Ditch the car, grab whatever you can and make your escape.
Contact your families and get out of Nigeria.
My people will be in touch with you all and get you to safety, no matter what.
I, Esmond Manston, swear on it."
There wasn't much anyone could say back other than nodding in agreement with the hastily declared plan.
Pulling himself through the sunroof, much to the puzzlement of the security guards, Esmond leaped from the roof of the moving four-wheel drive and rolled upon landing to cushion his fall, even though it wasn't necessary.
'Carter, keep close watch over the four of them and their family members.
They have to join us…' were Esmond's last words before fading into the crowds as SARS operatives raced past the location 20 seconds or so later with great haste.
Through the mental connection, Esmond passed onto Carter, 'Let those boys know I am in the clear and that they need to prepare their families to move.
Also pass their information onto Anton to assess.
He might be able to incorporate them into his current tasks and gain them experience outside of Nigeria.'
Comparing the ability of the four security guards to soldiers and warriors Esmond fought with in the countless lifetimes of the past, he figured the four were stronger and far more cohesive with one another.
"Shall we go pay our dear Minister of Waste Management a timely visit?
There's still plenty of time till our scheduled appointment." Laughed Esmond aloud as he disappeared into the dense Nigerian crowd of Lagos streets.
…
..
.
"Has he arrived yet?"
"No sir.
The appointment isn't for another half hour at the very least."
Jioke facepalmed himself, groaning over the mess that found itself in his lap.
Earlier reports in the day explained there was a meeting for the afternoon with a potential foreign investor to aid in waste management of the country.
To ensure nothing happened to the man, Jioke informed his cousin to keep the underground scene of Lagos deadly quiet for the day, yet his own trusted assistants and guards explained SARS operatives took action against a foreigner.
By the time Jioke learnt of the 'identity' of the foreigner, he knew several power players became aware of the man's value.
For Jioke and his department, the foreigner would save them from audit, while the other powerful individuals of Lagos and Nigeria wanted the man to fill their own pockets.
It further delved into chaos as reports reached his office of SARS operatives trailing the foreigner, only to end up in conflict with the security team.
Jioke figured the security team was spooked by the behaviour of the SARS operatives, who were especially known for their trigger-happy attitude.
The first shot fired, or aggressive action would have set the tone for conflict, making it difficult to settle the situation without heavy costs.
Thankfully the latest report stated SARS operatives lost the trail of the foreigner and the security team, much to Jioke's relief, but worry since he had a meeting with man soon.
After spending the government's budget for Waste Management of Nigeria, Jioke couldn't provide for the rubbish program similar to western nations like the United States, New Zealand, England, Australia and so on.
Waste would be collected from the homes of the residents, placed in trash bins, which could easily be collected once a week to reduce the build-up of rubbish on the personal property.
Jioke took away the money dedicated to fund the project for their own pockets, making it near impossible to create a safe and manageable waste collection and disposal system for Nigeria.
Rubbish wasn't an easy task to deal with for any government, since there wasn't a solid solution to the problem.
Most nations around the globe sent it overseas to less developed countries to be sorted and processed for recycling back in western nations, or growing economies, but even so there was plenty of waste left behind with no real way to end its pollution.
Yes, it could be left to degrade over the decades, but the long-term nature of the solution meant more rubbish would fill the landfills before the waste could fade away back into natural elements.
Jioke believed if they continued to send their waste into landfills, it would eventually draw the attention of foreigners who'd question the government why mountains of rubbish ended up in conservation parks.
So, when a call came from an unknown person, Jioke did everything in his power to learn about the mysterious man who could solve all of his problems.
Unfortunately, that very same man ended up causing more issues than he ever expected, which left Jioke with a very short temper.
"When he arrives, fucking tell me!
Now get lost and bring me some tea…"
Jioke barked some orders at his assistant and staff, ignoring the odd looks of anger and impatience building up in his workers.
They were exhausted from dealing with Jioke and his demanding nature ever since the state bank of Nigeria asked for an audit of the government and its agencies.
From that day on, Jioke demanded the department find someone suitable to aid in either fudging the numbers of the budget account or finding an investor willing to deal with the waste build up at the ports and in-land.
There was a moment when the office wasn't on edge when a mysterious caller offered to purchase the waste build up and establish a long-term contract of cooperation.
Jioke believed all his worries would be settled and threw a party out of celebration, yet the last couple of hours caused him enough concern to nearly have a heart attack from the stress.
If the investor left Nigeria and broke cooperation with one another, Jioke would have no leg to stand on because the assault happened in his homeland.
Hell, Jioke wasn't sure if the investor would even bother attending the appointment after what he'd learnt about the SARS operatives causing mayhem through the city.
He didn't know if calling his younger brother would solve anything, since the attack wouldn't have commenced without the underground seats of power approving.
Jioke began to think over his decision to gain one of the underground seats of power for his younger brother, who'd even stopped picking up his calls at times.
Helpless and exhausted, Jioke walked over to his personal liquor cabinet, only to hear the door to his office opening once he'd poured himself a glass of scotch.
"Sir, your one o'clock appointment is here…" said the assistant smugly as she led Esmond into the office.
Not caring one bit about her boss's appearance and behaviour in front of clients at this point, the assistant left without waiting to be dismissed.
Esmond found the assistant quite hilarious with her 'No shit taking' attitude, which might come back and bite her in the ass but right now, it was all the justice she could afford for herself.
"Sorry about my staffs' behaviours, Mr…?"
"Mars…" replied Esmond as Jioke gestured to take a seat.
"Mars?"
"Yes…"
Laughing awkwardly, Jioke took his own seat in the small lounge setting within the office.
In hand was the glass of blazed golden liquor known as scotch, which continued to swirl elegantly until Jioke decided to take a sip before speaking with the man calling himself, 'Mr Mars'.
He knew the name was a fake, but seated face to face with the so called 'Mr Mars', Jioke felt he had some sort of power to learn of the man's true identity in due course.
That small hope of confidence helped Jioke begin the casual course of discussion with
"Forgive me, Mr Mars…
I don't drink during office hours, but today has been rather an eventful day…"
"It seems we've both had an extraordinary morning…" smirked Esmond, causing Jioke to choke a little on his scotch, as the liquor burned down his throat.
Other than laughing awkwardly, Jioke didn't know what to say or do with 'Mr Mars' imposing attitude taking over the atmosphere within the meeting.
"Shall we discuss business?" not bothering to wait for the Minister, Esmond jumped at the awkward silence and commanded it to suit his own needs.
Jioke nodded along, like basic sheep unable to escape in front of a predator with overwhelming strength and power.
It was a stark contrast to what most of the world saw when they came across Jioke Obea.
The Minister of Waste never took shit from anyone, even if they were considered family.
A simple man that grew up through the harsh life in Nigeria, suffering at the hands of SARS in his youth, a paramilitary organisation connected with the government that just killed and maimed people as they pleased when they were looking out for robbers and thieves.
He worked hard and used his connections within the underground scene to scare people in higher places to advance his promotion.
Jioke used his progression in the government to partly take control over a section of the SARS police unit, making them guards and enforcers of his businesses for a price.
To hear a tanned foreigner bastard, behave as the man in charge caused Jioke's veins to pop up from the stress on his mind.
But it made him ignorant to the pressure exerted by Esmond on his fragile and overweight body, as sweat built up in small puddles under the layers of clothing.
"I believe its wise for the Minister of Waste to begin a conversation regarding business matters for the nation, don't you think so, Minister Obea?"