SHE nearly jumped from her seat when the pilot's voice came through the speakers from the cockpit, announcing that the plane would be landing soon.
Tamana Minajri had stayed awake all through the nine hours of the Air India flight, her thoughts snapping back to the present following the pilot's announcement.
A flight attendant called to everyone to buckle up and Tamana finally got her first view of her destination from through the window as the plane touched down at the runway of the Jomo Kenyatta International Airport.
The passengers began to alight, with Tamana getting a hearty "Welcome to Kenya" from the flight attendant before getting off the plane.
At the arrivals section, Tamana had to pass through a vaccination check where two armed agents, much similar to those back in India-same hard visored helmets, riot armor, utility belts filled with weapons. They stood from either side of the entrance. One of them passed a scanning device over her bracelet, confirming that she had been vaccinated and was free to pass through.
She then noticed how everyone seemed to know where they were going and those who did not had other people waiting for them at the pick up. She saw a man holding up a placard with bold letters after which a young woman, a passenger, rushed over and the two embraced in a hug.
Tamana was all alone. Nobody was coming to pick her up and she had no idea where she was going; her only belongings being the black leather satchel hanging over her left shoulder.
Feeling the satchel, she remembered the last moments with her uncle back in India. She opened the satchel and found one of the documents he had given her and read through it.
Hotel reservation booking for one Tamana Minajri, 20, at the Villa Rosa Kempinski, Westlands, Nairobi.
Duration: Two weeks.
All services and privileges fully catered for under Mr. Richard Patel.
Tamana had not realized that she was standing in the middle of the arrivals section when an officer approached her.
"Can I help you, Miss?"
Tamana gasped a little, silently cursing for having apparently become so alert at the slightest touch ever since the incident back at campus. But who could blame her? It's not everyday that an assassin shows up at your doorstep disguised as a maintenance man.
"Miss?"
"Y-Yes," Tamana turned around to find a dark-skinned woman in camo attire, with a cap bearing the Kenyan flag on her head.
"Are you lost?"
"Yes, actually," Tamana said, regaining her composure, "I just arrived and I need to get here."
She showed the officer her reservation letter.
"You'll need to take an uber. Follow me."
Tamana hurried after the officer, maintaining as much close contact with her as she could manage. They passed through several arcades, lanes and parking lots before finally stopping at a section filled with tourist buses and sedans.
"First time in the country?" the uniformed officer asked.
"Yes."
"Tourist?"
"Y-," Tamana was about to say yes but for some reason decided to say, "I'm a student, actually. I came here to meet up with my international class group for a project. "
She winced a little, hoping she hadn't oversold it.
"Oh, okay, " the officer responded, fortunately uninterested before hailing down one of the sedans, "do you have money?"
"What?"
"For the fare."
"Yes," Tamana nodded, feeling her satchel where several bank notes were stashed.
"Alright, then, " the officer let her get into the back of the sedan, shortly before talking to the driver in a language she didn't understand, "Mweke pale Villa Rosa, sawa?" (Drop her off at Villa Rosa, okay?)
"Sawa," the driver replied.
With that, the officer walked away just as the driver revved the engine.
It was a silent ride, with the exceptional glances from the driver through the rear-view mirror. Tamana ignored him by looking out the window, distracted by the artwork that started out from the airport's exit. She saw sculpted animals, wildebeest, wild dogs, all lined up in the road's lane partitioning. Their bodies were reflective from the cloudy afternoon.
The scenery quickly morphed from one into another, passing by large tracts of land, then high-rise buildings until the sedan was moving through the Nairobi Expressway which was when the driver finally spoke.
"We're in Westlands now, Miss. The hotel's just a few minutes ahead."
More high-rise buildings came into view, one of which bore the name Global Trade Center while another, not that far from it, was the Standard Chartered Bank. They alternated with the roads, some of which were raised, flyovers, all filled with cars.
"We're here," the driver motioned, driving the car past the two buildings and another one came into view.
"How much?" Tamana asked, opening her satchel.
"Five hundred shillings."
Tamana whipped out a one thousand shillings bill and handed it to the driver."Thanks."
The driver then handed her the change and Tamana got out of the car, watching it drive away before disappearing onto the Expressway. She shuddered, noticing for the first time how under-dressed she was for the cold weather in this country.
She shuffled over to the entrance where she was frisked by another COVID patrol agent before being let through to the lobby.
A receptionist asked for her credentials, which included the letter and her passport.
"Welcome to Villa Rosa, Ms. Tamana Minajri, " the receptionist smiled at her after running her through the system, "I hope you enjoy your stay. "
The receptionist returned her credentials and gave her a receipt along with her room key that was marked as №026.
Tamana was helped by a porter to get to her room who informed her that all room services were run through a monitor. It was a large tablet fixed onto the wall adjacent to her door while on the other side of the door was a promotional poster for vaccination bracelets with bright letters that read 'Are You Vaccinated?!'
The monitor had a Villa Rosa Kempinski screensaver watermark over which were various options ranging from food menus, WiFi passwords, phone call directories to special requests and more. It also displayed the time; just half past four in the afternoon.
Tamana tossed her satchel onto the king-sized bed in front of her before accompanying it by falling onto her back where she sank right through the soft linen covers. She sighed, staring into the white ceiling brightened by a crystalized chandelier, not bothering to check the bathroom or even the spa.
She felt so tired but her eyes refused to shut. Everything had happened so fast. Had it really been just yesterday when she had lost the most important person in her life? Suddenly, the weariness had then turned into extreme anxiety then into a sense of dread and hopelessness as she remembered the task that lay ahead. Her father's last message that had something to do with the password protected document that was in her hard drive at the moment.
Tamana's head had become a whirlpool of emotions. She then got angry at her father for leaving her alone like that.
The chandelier's crystalline appearance became all hazy and blurry from the tears that rolled down to her ears, soaking the covers wet as she began to sob.
How do you expect me to do what it is you want me to do, Dad?
She turned and curled into a fetal position, letting her curly hair intertwine with her glasses while more tears poured out and she could not take it anymore.
I'm all alone in a foreign country. I can't do it Dad. I'm sorry but I can't. . .I just can't. . .
Her heart ached as much as those painful thoughts, letting herself drown in the agony so much that she failed to hear the monitor beeping with a certain incoming call for her that rang throughout the night. She shut everything out that night including room service and special requests, her only request being that she just die as according to her, there was no point in living anymore in a world where her father was not.
***
Her hurting neck made her realize that she had stayed up all night from all the crying along with the light coming in from through the curtained windows.
Adjusting her glasses and pushing back her hair away from her face, Tamana sat up in bed, momentarily staying that way with her mind gone totally blank until the monitor started to ring again.
She got up, ignoring the pain in her neck and got to the monitor where she was a little surprised to find nearly twenty missed calls, all coming from the same unknown number.
She also noticed that the most recent call had been recorded at 11:56 a.m. Had she been asleep that long?
That was not her question of concern but rather who had been trying to call her all that time. Whoever it was, they must have really wanted to have a chat.
Tamana studied the number and recognized the country code. The call was from India. Her heart began to race and perhaps with a tiny spark of hope. Could it be. . .?
The monitor rang again and she immediately tapped on the accept call button.
At first, there was nothing but silence which prompted Tamana to say, "Hello?"
'Tam, thank God! I've been trying to reach you!'
Tamana's heart melted with relief. Her suspicions had been affirmed.
"Uncle Pat-"
'Wait!'
"What?"
'Are you alone?'
"Yes."
'Are you absolutely sure?'
"Yes, Uncle! I made it to the hotel!"
'Good. Very good. . .' Richard Patel's voice sounded anxious and on guard, 'but also very bad.'
"W-What do you mean?"
'She's coming, Tam. She found you! You have to get out of there now!"
"Uncle? What're you talking about? Who's com. . ." Tamana's words died away upon realization.
A knock then came from the door.
"Room service?"
Tamana gasped, rushing over to the door and peeping through the key hole. She managed to catch a glimpse at a fairly elderly woman in a white dress with an apron, carrying what must have been bed sheets and cleaning supplies.
Tamana then backed up. Was this another disguise from the assassin? She couldn't risk it.
'Tam? Tam! You still there?' her uncle was still on the phone.
"Yes. Room service is calling on my door. I'm not sure if I should open it."
'Don't! Look for another way out! And don't forget the drive!'
Tamana jumped onto the bed and grabbed her satchel just as the woman who was supposedly room service called out again.
She sounded quite genuine, considering Tamana's room needed a bit of change since her stay but she still would not dare risk it.
That was when the door lock began to turn with the insertion of a key.
"Oh no, she's coming in!"
'Quick! Look for an exit! A window, preferably the bathroom?'
"I-"
The hotel room door was swung open and a middle-aged woman walked in. She had a confused look on her face as she scanned the room.
"Hello? Anyone here? You have been putting off your room service for a while now."
The room looked empty to the woman save for the voice of Richard Patel coming from the monitor.
"Oh, they must have left the phone on. Clumsy visitors," she clicked her tongue and was going to end the call when there was a sudden motion coming from the door, followed by a faint gasp and a low but sharp sound.
A second later, the woman collapsed to the floor, her face staring lifelessly at that of the terrified Tamana who had managed to slip under the bed right before the woman had walked in.
Tamana forced down the urge to scream as she spotted the gaping red hole that was dripping blood from what had earlier been the woman's right eye.
She clamped her mouth shut with her hands while lying stomach-first.
'Tam! Tam-' Richard Patel's voice was cut off after Tamana heard the monitor get smashed by something, followed by footsteps.
Averting her gaze from the body, Tamana watched as another person walked around the room. They were wearing heeled boots under what looked quite similar to the dead woman's attire. An apron dress.
"I know you're in here. . ." that voice was immediately sounded familiar to Tamana with its faint European accent.
Tamana's heart thudded to the floor and she knew it was only a matter of time before-
The mattress was flung over and the cruelest of eyes were staring down at her.
"There you are!" the assassin hissed and Tamana did not wait for her to fish her out.
Adrenaline must have kicked in because she rolled from under the bed and darted for the wide open door, her satchel swinging madly from her shoulder, running for all her life was worth.