The governor's wife commanded a five-car convoy. Leading the procession was an Innoson Granite truck, heavily laden with policemen and DSS officers. Another one followed at the rear. The trucks closely sandwiched two sleek Innoson G40 SUVs, carrying a retinue of aides poised to attend to her needs.
At the center of this motorcade, the governor's wife rode in regal comfort within the confines of an Innoson G6T SUV.
In a resolute commitment to national pride and patriotism, the First Lady, mirroring her husband's stance, insisted on exclusively using indigenously made vehicles.
This deliberate choice served as a symbolic gesture, echoing a profound dedication to supporting and promoting the products of the homegrown automotive industry.
The resounding hum of the motorcade announced the arrival of the First Lady at St. Alice just as the Inter-House Sports event was poised to commence.
The synchronized orchestration of the convoy's entrance added a touch of grandeur to the already festive atmosphere, where anticipation hung in the air like a palpable current.
As the vehicles came to a stately halt, the First Lady, draped in an aura of dignified grace, emerged from the Innoson G6T SUV. The timing of her arrival infused a heightened sense of significance into the sports event, as the vibrant colors of the participating houses and the lively energy of the spectators set the stage for a day of spirited competition.
The Sports Commissioner, having arrived earlier, assumed the role of a gracious host as he guided the Principal and her Vice towards the awaiting First Lady's car.
"Welcome to St. Alice Girls College Your Excellency," Sister Agatha greeted the First Lady of the state. "It's a great privilege and honor to have you here with us today."
"The pleasure and honor is all mine, Sister Agatha," the protocol officer had already given the First Lady the name of the school principal.
With an air of formality, the Sports Commissioner ushered the First Lady to a tent prepared to house the dignitaries where she greeted the Bishop who had also arrived earlier.
The Commissioner then led the First Lady to the meticulously prepared seat reserved for her. He sat next to her as the official representative of the governor.
The influx of spectators was not limited to the school community alone; people from Uboma Town had converged, forming a vibrant tapestry of onlookers eager to witness the unfolding games.
This convergence of people from Uboma Town transformed the Inter-House Sports event into a communal celebration, where the boundaries between the school and the town seamlessly blurred.
There was a however a clear demarcation at St. Alice's school grounds, as the students occupied their designated seating areas near the school buildings, while the visitors, hailing from Uboma Town and beyond, congregated near the gate area. The deliberate separation created a visual distinction, ensuring that the two groups did not mix during the event.
The players filled out to the field and everybody rose their feet as the National Anthem was played by the school band.
The Sports Commissioner and the First Lady joined Sister Agatha at the center of the field to perform the ceremonial kickoff and returned to their seats.
House B girls were playing against House A girls in the first match of the competition.
Under the golden rays of the morning sun, the soccer field at St. Alice's school became a vibrant arena for an eagerly anticipated match between the defending champions from House A and the determined contenders from House B.
The spectator stands, a kaleidoscope of colors and faces, teemed with families, friends, and residents from Uboma Town. The air buzzed with the collective excitement of the impending contest.
The referee's whistle pierced the air, signaling the beginning of the match.
The match kicked off with an air of anticipation, and it wasn't long before the first goal painted the scoreboard.
A precise through-pass from the midfield found a House B's striker in prime position.
With a swift burst of speed, she maneuvered around House A's defenders, deftly dribbling the ball past the goalkeeper and slotting it into the net.
The spectators erupted into cheers as House B claimed the early lead.
The play had barely resumed after the celebration of the first goal when a perfectly timed cross from the wing found Chioma in the penalty area.
With a graceful header, she directed the ball past the outstretched arms of the goalkeeper, scoring House B's second goal. The stands thundered with applause as Chioma's goal added a touch of finesse and elegance to the match.
House A, determined to narrow the gap, orchestrated a brilliant offensive maneuver.
A series of quick passes and coordinated teamwork culminated in a powerful shot that sailed into House B's net. The spectators, now divided in their allegiance, acknowledged the skill displayed by House A, and the scoreboard reflected a renewed sense of competition.
As the match progressed, Chioma once again stole the spotlight.
This time, a solo run from the midfield saw her expertly navigate through House A's defenders.
With a clinical finish, she unleashed a powerful shot that found the back of the net, securing House B's third goal and reaffirming her status as a key player.
The intricacies of Chioma's skill left the spectators in awe, and the stands erupted into applause for her remarkable contribution.
In the closing moments of the match, House B sealed their victory with two more goals.
A perfectly executed set piece resulted in a precise header finding the target, adding the third goal to House B's tally. The fourth goal, a product of relentless determination, showcased a well-coordinated team effort, culminating in a clinical finish.
The final whistle blew, and House B celebrated their hard-earned 4-2 victory over the defending champions as they moved to the next stage of the competition.
"What a wonderful display," the First Lady said to Sister Agatha over the shouts and cheers from the crowd.
"Thank you, Your Excellency," Sister Agatha replied.
Unbeknownst to the jubilant crowd immersed in the excitement of the Inter-House Sports event, a covert presence manifested around the periphery of the school compound. Toyota Hilux trucks, discreetly positioned, harbored heavily armed men clad in full combat tactical gear, their silent vigilance contrasting sharply with the celebratory atmosphere within.
The camouflage of the sports spectacle cloaked the strategic positioning of these armed figures, rendering their presence virtually unnoticed.
The surrounding air, thick with cheers and laughter, provided the perfect cover for the clandestine operation unfolding just beyond the spectator's gaze.
In a shroud of calculated discretion, Jide and a select few of his men had seamlessly blended into the crowd earlier, assuming inconspicuous roles as ordinary spectators.
Slowly and methodically, they navigated through the lively assembly, working their way toward the periphery where the security operatives had strategically positioned themselves around the tent housing the First Lady and other dignitaries.
Hidden within the sea of celebratory onlookers, Jide and his men subtly closed the gap, exploiting the cover provided by the crowd's animated engagement in the sports event. Their movements, imperceptible amidst the festivities, masked the calculated precision with which they inched closer to the targeted area.
The bustling ambiance of the Inter-House Sports day served as both a shield and a distraction, affording Jide and his men the perfect cover for their strategic maneuver.
As they approached the security perimeter around the tent, the juxtaposition of celebration and covert intent hung in the air, creating an intricate dance between the unsuspecting crowd and the calculated movements of those harboring a hidden agenda.
Jide had counted them. There were eight of them, four policemen and four DSS officers, minus the two female operatives standing behind the First Lady.
Jide and his men who were embedded in the crowd were armed with pistols.
"Now," he said.
In a sudden and orchestrated flurry, Jide's men moved with swift precision, executing a calculated strike. Well-placed shots rang out, disrupting the festive atmosphere with a stark and unexpected violence. The security operatives, caught off guard, fell instantly to the ground, their once-vigilant stance shattered by the sudden onslaught.
The cracks of gunfire echoed through the air, creating a chilling dissonance against the backdrop of the cheering crowd.
The two female operatives standing behind the First Lady reacted with shock, their training momentarily overridden by the swift and decisive nature of the attack.
Jide pointed his pistol at the First Lady while keeping his eyes trained on the female operatives who had drawn their pistols.
"Drop your guns or she dies right now," he ordered.
Left with no other choice as more guns trained at them, the female operatives raised their hands in surrender.
"Get their guns," Jide commanded.
As the tumultuous events unfolded within the school grounds, a parallel scene of panic and urgency gripped the town people who had witnessed the convergence of armed men outside the school.
Fear rippled through the crowd, and a swift instinct for self-preservation took hold.
In a chaotic surge, the town people scattered in all directions, their flight fueled by the sight of danger.
The more agile individuals, propelled by a primal instinct to escape imminent threats, scaled the high fence surrounding the school with determination. The sharp obstacles mounted on the fence, intended to deter such attempts, proved to be a secondary concern as the urgency of escape took precedence.
The once-unified crowd now dispersed into a maze of fleeing figures, each person driven by an innate instinct to distance themselves from the unfolding turmoil.
The invaders, driven by a calculated agenda, displayed a stark disregard for the fleeing town people. Their focus remained unswervingly fixed on a specific target – the students most of whom were from affluent and wealthy backgrounds and the VIPs, most especially the governor's wife.
The chaotic exodus of the town people served as little more than a backdrop to the invaders' mission, which bore a tailored precision.
"Take these bodies away," Jide ordered waving at the dead security operatives. "Secure the perimeter as we practiced."
The invaders took away the bodies of the dead security operatives. They also secured the dead men's rifles.
As the unsettling events continued to unfold, Jide's demolition expert, a former soldier turned criminal, moved the secure the entire compound against external incursion.
With great precision, he began rigging the entire school with motion-sensitive explosive charges. The ominous devices, carefully concealed throughout the premises, held the potential to unleash destruction at the slightest provocation.
Jide, who's face was half covered throughout the operation with a surgical mask, now pulled out a black biker mask which he always wore during operations and covered his face. He drew out the surgical mask from under the biker mask and discarded it on the group.
Under the guise of practicality, Jide sold the idea to his men that covering his face was a pragmatic measure, enabling him to move about freely and procure necessary supplies for their operation. The narrative he wove emphasized the importance of maintaining a low profile during these critical moments, ensuring the smooth execution of their plans.
However, the underlying truth was far more strategic. Jide's meticulous concealment of his identity went beyond the immediate needs of the operation. It served as a precautionary measure, a calculated effort to ensure that, when the time came for the execution of the ending protocol and his return to a semblance of normalcy, nothing could be traced back to him.
His men were already wanted criminals whose pictures had been pasted everywhere and had nothing else to hide. They also depended on Jide to start alive and a foot ahead of the authorities.
But then, to Jide, they were all dead men walking. In a matter of days it would all be over.
"Pardon the theatrics Your Excellency," he said to the First Lady. "It was extremely necessary to get your attention and that of those that matter."
"Who are you?" the First Lady tried to keep a straight face. "What do you want?"
"You can call me Commander as I'm in-charge right now," Jide replied. "And our demands are simple. Ransom money and the resignation of your husband as governor of this state. Now Your Excellency, Your Lordship, we must secure you and the students properly so that the business of negotiation with those we want to talk to can commence but first please be so kind and surrender all phones in your possession. Your Excellency I'll take yours please."
In a systematic sweep, Jide's men moved through the captive crowd beneath the tent, efficiently relieving each person of their phones.
The act, executed with a chilling precision, severed the hostages' link to the outside world, isolating them further from potential help or communication.
As the routine progressed, the First Lady, acknowledging the inevitability of the situation, handed her phone to Jide.
"Please follow my men," Jide urged his captives.
Under the ominous gaze of assault rifle barrels, the criminals, led by Jide, corralled the visitors, students, and staff of the school, herding them with an air of coercion toward the largest hostel in the school.
The weight of the situation hung heavily in the air as the ominous presence of the armed criminals permeated the once-secure grounds of the school.
Once inside the hostel, the criminals, with a chilling efficiency, locked the door, sealing their captives within the confines of the building turning it into a prison. The click of the lock echoed a foreboding confinement, as the hostages found themselves at the mercy of the armed intruders.
As an additional layer of control, Jide strategically positioned seven armed men around the hostel, forming an intimidating perimeter. The menacing presence of these armed guards served as a stark deterrent, emphasizing the gravity of the situation and discouraging any notions of resistance or escape.
"Search the entire school, search the church," Jide ordered. "From top to bottom, bring anybody you find here immediately before they set off any of the charges we set around the compound."
In a methodical sweep, the armed criminals, executed a grim roundup of the remaining staff of the school.
Those who had sought refuge in various hiding spots within the school premises, as well as individuals taking sanctuary in the church, including nuns and the priest Father Gregory, were systematically located and coerced into joining the growing assembly within the hostel.
Within a span of thirty minutes, the hostel, already holding a sizable number of captives, became the unwilling convergence point for the entire school staff, students body and visitors.
The air thickened with a palpable sense of fear and uncertainty as the hostages found themselves corralled into an increasingly confined space, under the watchful eyes of their armed captors.
"Now bring the First Lady, the Bishop and the Commissioner," Jide said. "They are VIPs and should be treated better than others."
His men lead the First Lady, the Bishop and the Commissioner for Sports to another room. Four men stood guard in front of the door.
Jide went into the Principal's office. He would use it as his command outpost. He shoved aside the files heaped on the desk and dropped his rifle on the desk. Jide dropped the First Lady's phone on the desk and awaited the pivotal call that would guide the next moves in his mission.
As the news of the attack and the kidnapping of the First Lady reverberated through the corridors of Government House, chaos erupted, casting a shadow over the once-stately atmosphere. Panic and urgency gripped the surroundings, turning the seat of government into a hub of turmoil.
In response to the unfolding crisis, the security chiefs hastily converged at the office of the governor, recognizing the gravity of the situation.
Inside, the governor, engaged in a critical call with the President, navigated the complexities of the unfolding events.
"I am sending the entire Service Chiefs to personally look into this matter," the President assured the governor. "We must address this issue decisively."
"Yes Your Excellency."
"We're all with you my dear brother," the President.
"Thank you Your Excellency."
In swift response to the news of the attack on the First Lady, a coordinated effort unfolded as the police, DSS, and military swiftly deployed personnel and equipment to address the unfolding situation.
Anticipating the imminent military operation, the town people, gripped by fear and foresight, evacuated the entire town. The once-vibrant streets became deserted, echoing the hasty departure of residents seeking safety beyond the potential crossfire.
The palpable tension in the air painted a stark contrast to the usual hustle and bustle of Uboma Town.
The area around St. Alice became a beehive of military activity as the security operatives started staging their next line of action.
The command post, strategically positioned on elevated ground, featured a makeshift operations center with reinforced tents and modular structures. Inside, senior officers huddled over large-scale maps and communication systems, orchestrating the mission with meticulous detail.
Specialized units, each donned in camouflage gear and armed to the teeth, underwent final briefings.
SWAT teams reviewed floor plans of the school, military special forces checked their equipment, and DSS operatives ensured their communication devices were in optimal condition.
A helicopter hovered above St. Alice, it's rotors slicing through the air. Equipped with surveillance technology and armed capabilities, the aircraft provided a critical aerial perspective, ready to respond swiftly to any dynamic developments on the ground.
It was almost dark when the police negotiator flown in from Abuja, a seasoned professional with many years of experience, was ushered into the bustling command post.
The negotiator took a seat amidst the high-ranking officers, surrounded by the hum of communication equipment and the strategic buzz of activity.
Equipped with a secure line, the negotiator placed a call to the First Lady's number.
"Is this the negotiator?" Jide asked before the negotiator could said a word.
"Yes, how-?"
"My demands are very simple," Jide cut him off. "You have until 6am to make available six billion naira in cash."
"What-?"
"Please don't interrupt me," Jide said. "Your politicians can make it happen. They move cash like that around very easily during elections. The money will be in one thousand naira bills. Old notes. Find it however you can. We will check the money and exactly 5pm tomorrow, every military and police around the school will clear out to facilitate our safe passage. Afterwards, you can have your hostages.
"A hostage dies every hour after 6am if I don't see the money. Two dies every hour after 5pm after the money is paid if there is any security presence in the area. I have quite a large number of hostages to keep me going for days if you test me.
"I have eyes everywhere, I'll know if you try any funny business and it would cost you. I word of warning to the military chiefs standing around you, any attempt to breech this compound will receive an explosive reception."
He ended the call.
"Is this man crazy?" the negotiator exclaimed looking into the phone. "Six billion Naira in old currency notes before 6am? That's impossible."
"I'll relay the message to Government House," the Brigadier General leading the operation said. He turned to the SWAT leader. "How are we on locating the hostages. Can we breech that compound?"
"The larger number of hostages are being held at the west wing hostel which appears to be the biggest in the school," the SWAT commander reported. "There are also some hostages held in a separate room. Aerial recon suggests they are keeping the First Lady, the Bishop and somebody else in the separate room.
"The entire perimeter of the compound is rigged with motion sensitive explosive with backups. We can't get through them easily. An aerial incursion is also out of the question as they have sentries mounted on the roofs and they are equipped with night vision goggles. We can't risk a breech without putting the First Lady's life in danger."
The General wasn't a happy man as he reported back to Government House.