Then came the thunderous applause from the audience as the outgoing President and the incoming one stood up for the swearing-in of the man who won the election to be in the seat for the next four years or eight years because they always want to go another round.
His name was Mohammad Ali, though everyone thought he wasn't meant to be President, and it was obvious he did some underground works during the campaign and election season but with a country filled with nonchalant citizens, one could say, justice has no meaning here.
The in-grateful smile on his face read it's my turn to steal the country's fortune. He was asked to place his right hand on the holy Quran due to his religion and the left hand lay on his chest.
President Austin Armstrong Jonathan was leaving, not many Nigerians saw how good of a President he was due to the increased crime rate in his tenure, they blindly pushed away someone who cared and elected the Country doom as president.
Diana tossed and her eyes flung open to capture the neatly painted ceiling.
It was just a dream?
She got out of bed and made her way out of the bedroom, down the stairs, and into the kitchen to get a can of water from the standing fridge. She picked a glass from the upper glass cabinet and lay it on the table, pouring herself an amount of water into it.
The glass in one hand, yet to take a sip, she picked up the remote control to turn up the volume of the kitchen television.
There stood Mohammed Ali on the podium with over forty microphones from different media stations, reading a speech to the Nigerians who cared to listen.
It wasn't a dream, after all, there was a Mohammed Ali as President.
"You can't even make a good speech on your own, bloody illiterate," She flicked off the television, agitated and sipped on her drink and exhaled.
Her phone dinged and she reached out for it, from where she had left it on the table and a broad smile lit her face, "It's about time," She muttered and quickly unlocked it with her fingerprint.
Girlfriend for Rent, an app, designed by herself which has been her source of income since she went into hiding.
Diana Argent was an ex-military personnel who was trained in Russia under a private security company and returned home to serve in the Nigerian Army a few years back before the inevitable happened and now she was living undercover, for a crime she did not commit.
She texted the client to meet at an address which she sent immediately and walked out of the kitchen.
***
Diana pulled over and turned off the engines. She sat in the car, her breath fogging the glass as she peered through the window pane. The diner looked warm and inviting, with the smell of fresh-baked pastries wafting through the air. She could see people laughing and chatting inside, and it seemed like the perfect place to have a meeting.
The diner was where has she been meeting with all her clients since she started the business, she made sure she was late to every one of them for security reasons, shedding stare from her car through the glass. She had one table and once the client walked in and said they were for Girlfriend for Rent, a waiter escorted them to the table.
She chose that diner because it had no CCTV cameras and the owner seemed nice and also not the type that paid attention to the news.
She saw the client already at the table, alighted her car, and made it into the diner to meet with him. He wore a nose mask.
After a moment of hesitation, she took a deep breath and opened the door. She's been into this for the past five years but each time, she was nervous to meet a client, afraid that one of them might recognize her someday.
But you cover your tracks so well and your makeup is top-notch, she'd always remind herself.
The bell above the door jingled, and all eyes turned to her. She felt a rush of nerves, but she forced herself to keep moving. She spotted the client in the corner and made her way over to him.
"You'll have to take off your mask for me, dude." She asked rather suspiciously.
"I can't," He simply replied.
"Then you don't want this deal to stand, I have to know who I'm working with, or else we can shove this whole thing down the toilet pit," She stated clearly.
Farouk looked up from his coffee, his eyes narrowing as he studied Diana's face. "You want me to take off my mask?" he asked, his voice low.
"I didn't have water in my mouth earlier, did I?" Diana asked, her eyes steady.
Farouk hesitated, his fingers tightening around the mug in his hand. He knew he had to trust her, but he also knew that revealing his identity could be dangerous, he was famous or let's say infamously famous now, since what happened with the record label he was signed with. After a long hesitation, he let out a sigh and reached up to remove his mask.
Diana gasped as Farouk's face came into view. She recognized him immediately as the famous singer whose songs she had listened to for years.
She had woken up one morning and gone online, and there was a video of Farouk running wild on the street with soldiers trying to calm him down, he was crying out that if anything was to happen to him, the world should hold the record label responsible.
A few days later, the big boss of the label released a statement that Farouk was an addict and nobody should pay attention to him, he went further to reveal that the company was doing everything possible to get help for him. The Boss's statement made more sense than Farouk's cries and from that moment, he started losing everything: his followers on all social media handles, his ambassadorship, respect in the society, and much more.
Story cut short, it made him non-grata in the music industry. He had to disappear for a while, and was back, trying to rebuild his career.
Farouk's eyes began darkening at the stare Diana had on him, "I am not what they say I am," he found himself explaining to her.
"I don't care, I'm here for my money and to do my job. State your mission." She said rather nonchalantly.
"I need you to be my date to the president's welcoming ball tomorrow," He said.
"What happened to all of your girls out there?" She thought to ask.
He exhaled, his expression softening, "I am not the Farouk I used to be, let's just say, I don't trust the people around me so, I went for a total stranger. I think I'd trust a stranger more 'cause people close to me have proven that they can be bought."
Diana knew that she was taking a risk by following through with the meeting but she had bills to pay and this was the only way she could get the money she needed. She took a deep breath and tried to focus on the task at hand, "So, about the deal," she said, keeping her voice steady.
Farouk nodded, his gaze intense. "Right," he said, "Let's talk business." For the next hour, they discussed the details of their arrangement, haggling over the terms until they agreed. Farouk said, looking pleased. "I'll pick you up at 7:30 pm sharp and we'll be in Aso Rock by 8 pm tomorrow. You'll be seated in the front row with me, so you'll have a clear view of the president's speech."
Diana nodded, her heart racing. "Must you go for this ball?"
"Yes, it is very important I go for this ball. Why?"
"Nothing, it's just that."
"Are you shy, camera? There's nothing to worry about, it's a mask ball."
*******
As Farouk and Diana approached the grand ball, they were greeted by a finely dressed officer who stood at the door, checking off names from a long list. "Good evening sir, ma'am," he announced as the dates approached, "Welcome to our event this evening. Your masks are exquisite," The officer's eyes twinkled as he admired the glittering masks that covered the faces of the guests.
Diana returned his smile, "Thank you,"
"Mr. Farouk and Ms. Diana," Farouk said to the officer who schemed through the tablet in his hand and gave them a satisfied smile.
"Please," he said, motioning them in and the guards at the door let them inside.
Suddenly there was a commotion, and the officer quickly straightened his posture, peering into the crowd. A man is striding toward them with envoys swarming all over him, he doesn't have his mask on. The President was now at his event. The officer gave a large bow, "Welcome, Mr. President,"
The hall was grand, glided with gold, and draped in velvet, glittering with the lights of a thousand candles. The guests gathered, dressed in their finest finery, bearing a glass of wine and the orchestra was playing. Some are masked, their identities hidden behind the veils of secrecy, some are laughing, preening, flirting, and some are simply content to enjoy the beauty of the moment.
Diana was welcomed to the world of mystery and intrigue, where anything could happen, in the world of a mask ball.
Amidst the swirling sea of masked guests, one person stood frozen in one place, suddenly rooted to the spot. It was Farouk, dressed in a dark green retro suit, and was staring at a lady across the room. She was tall and elegant, with dark hair and piercing brown eyes. He had once thought of her as charming and witty but now he knew the truth: she was a liar and a cheat. As he stood there paralyzed by the anger and hurt, he felt like the whole room was spinning around him, and he wished he could just disappear but there was no escape from this encounter for she noticed him too and started to approach alongside a male figure who joined her only but a moment ago, though the face was hidden under a mask, Farouk could still recognize who that was with her. The man she cheated on him with, his Boss. The President of Jonxing label, the man who gave him a name in the society and took it back in a snap.
"Farouk, the star of the night, you made it." Kayode hugged him and patted his back.
"A man can't hide forever, can he? He has to prove himself worthy." Farouk replied. "Can see you found yourself a date, huh?" His gaze settled on his ex-girlfriend. It was obvious that she was distracted by the presence of Diana, he could see her weighing Diana's worth with her visuals.
Diana had no desire to be involved in the conversation but she didn't want to leave either, the air felt tense. Should she make an excuse and leave, or should she remain there and act invisible? As she debated on the options, she became aware of Farouk's hand forming a fist. The lady was someone she didn't recognize but she knew there was something serious going on.
"Good evening ladies and gentlemen, lets welcome on stage our very own star, Farouk who just got out of rehab," The MC of the event announced with the microphone, on stage.
"Your call, golden boy," Kayode smoothed Farouk's coat and Diana noticed that he was being sarcastic. What a jerk, she thought.
She smiled up at her date, "Break a leg, you're great," Farouk didn't leave first, he took her by the hand and led her to the front row before taking the stage.
The sound of the music filled the air, and the dancers swayed gracefully across the floor. But then, the excited and cheery Diana suddenly fell silent, she noticed something on Farouk, something she could recognize even if she was woken up from a slumber. A sniper's laser.
"Farouk, get down!" She yelled and moved with the speed of lightning, rushing across on stage and sending Farouk to the floor.
The gunshot hit one of the dancers instead, sending a chill through the crowd. Everyone stood frozen, staring in the direction of the incident. The dancer lay on the floor, blood spreading from a wound in her chest, she was gasping for breath, and her eyes wide with terror. Panic spread through the room as people began to shout and run for their lives.
More gunshots came, ringing out at the two of them, and she grabbed Farouk, "We gotta go, now!"
The artist still in shock, struggled to his feet and followed the mysterious woman as she led him out of the ballroom.
She led them into a room, the room was silent, except for the sound of breathing and the ticking of the clock on the wall. Diana's eyes darted around the room, looking for any sign of movement.
Suddenly the door burst open and a group of masked men rushed in, brandishing weapons.
"Freeze!" one of them yelled. "Nobody moves."
Diana's heart was pounding in her chest, but she didn't move. She had been trained for this moment, and she knew exactly what to do. You're outnumbered, the leader of the gunmen said, his voice low and threatening, You'd better surrender.
She lifted her hand above her head, pretending to surrender, and waiting for the closest contact with the gunmen as they marched forward. With a flick of her wrist, Diana knocked down the leader's gun out of his hand. In a flash, she had him on the ground, pinned. Before the other gunmen could react, she was already on her feet, her movement fluid and precise. She ducked and weaved, avoiding their bullets as she moved toward them. One by one, she disarmed and subdued them, using her years of military training to overcome them with ease. When the last gunman was down, she stood up panting and adrenaline-soaked, surveying the area. With none other forthcoming, she tore her dress and drew the shotgun patched on her lap in a holster.
"Who the hell are those people and why were they shooting at us?" Farouk asked, terrified. He stepped from behind the wall
"I should be asking you that question. What did you do?" Diana redirected the question.
"Me? You seem to be quite the capable fighter. Where did you learn those moves?"
"I am not at liberty to answer that, you seem to have angered some powerful people, and you'd better start talking."
"What do you mean I'd better start talking? I don't know those people and why they want me dead."
"Yeah, you don't know these people, they'll stop at nothing to see you dead,"
"You seem to know them more than I do," He said, squinting at her.
"Story for another day, right now we gotta get outta here and you'd better start thinking hard on what you did 'cause those people were definitely not for me. And have in mind that if they can't get you, they'll use the ones you love to get you, I hope you've got no loved ones for you to mess with such powerful people,"
"Who the hell are you?" Farouk inquired.
She didn't stop leading the way and finding routes to leave from, "You're seriously asking me that right now? What I should be getting is a thank you for saving your ass back there."
She guided him through the maze of the hallways until they reached a small door that opened into a dark alley. "Get in," she said, gesturing to a sleek black car.
The artist obeyed, climbing into the passenger seat as the woman slid into the driver's seat.
As the car sped away, he could see the flashing lights of police cars and vans in the distance, reflecting off the wet pavement. He still couldn't believe what had just happened. Who was this woman and what was that Tom Cruise display back there?
The next thing Farouk saw was a message in his phone, the both of them were now tagged the most wanted criminals for murder; first-class homicides, from four years back and from tonight. The video of Diana finishing off the threats was out and her real identity was figured out, what she feared for years had happened in less than an hour.
The lady's real name was Kate Raven Berg, and she had once been a highly decorated soldier. But after a classified mission went horribly wrong, she was forced to go into hiding. Shed spent years building a new identity, living off the grid, and learning to blend in. But her skills had never left her, and they had just saved a life. She wasn't sure what would happen next, but she knew one thing for sure: she couldn't go back to her old life. Not now, not ever.
"You murdered President Yokohama?!" He said, not knowing what to do with the lady beside him. His mind was racing.
"Let me see that," She said grabbing the phone and after viewing their fate momentarily, she threw both their cell phones out the window.
Farouk's jaws dropped, "What did you do that for?"
"Trackers," She replied, without taking her eyes off the road. "I am not a criminal, they tagged me a criminal, I didn't murder President Yokohama, my team was his escort when we were attacked and the President was killed, I lost all my unit friends, and I was the only survivor. Instead of them being proud that a soldier made it out alive, they pinned on me that I'd planned the massacre," she said. Farouk studied her face, trying to read her expression, for some reason he knew not, he believed her. He could tell that she was telling the truth but he had so many questions.
How she missed them, especially the captain, may their souls rest in peace.
Since it was confession time, Farouk opened up, "All I wanted was to leave the label 'cause I didn't like the lifestyle they lived but my boss wouldn't let me. I'd found out that he was into shady stuff and I honored the invite to be the opening artist of the ball because I came searching for evidence to prove my suspicions and turn them up to the police,"
Diana scoffed and a giggle followed, "The police? They are the police. When was the last time the police got to the bottom of a case especially when it came to murder crime?"
The artist couldn't believe what was happening. One moment he was a famous musician, and the next he was being hunted by authorities, with a mysterious ex-soldier as his only ally. He had no idea what he had gotten himself into, or how he was going to get out of it.
As the car sped down the highway, Farouk glanced over at Diana. She was gripping the steering wheel tightly, her eyes fixed on the road ahead. Despite the danger they were in, he couldn't help but feel a surge of admiration for this woman. She was fearless, strong and determined.