Kante leaned back in his wooden chair, a deep frown creasing his brow. He crossed one leg over the other and stared intently at the old man in front of him, bound to a pole and barely conscious. For a moment, Kante was silent, his thoughts swirling.
"How?"
He muttered to himself, almost as if the question itself were an irritant.
"Both sides failed to capture him. And the cops—they burn him and injured him so badly till he passed out. So how the hell did he escape?"
Kante had stood at the edge of the road watching the chaos he tamed unfold, he'd stood there with a smug expression, proud of himself, watching as his organized pawns clash, like a game of chess.
His own mission was simple, get Uche and leave the rest to tear each other apart. The chaos he'd created was meant to be his cover—a chance to kidnap Uche unnoticed.
But when he'd finally arrived at the spot where Uche had been, there was… nothing. Not a trace. It was as if Uche had vanished, consumed by the explosion and flames, turning him to nothing but ashes.
"No… that blast alone wouldn't kill him."
He murmured.
"And even if it had, there'd be remains, something left behind. The other bodies were burned, sure, but they didn't turn to ashes. So where the hell did he go?"
The unsettling thought took root in Kante's mind.
"Could it be that girl?"
He wondered aloud, considering the only other person who might have interfered, he had seen that girl saved Uche when he was arrested by the cops, so it's possible.
But what bothers him again is that he had tried reaching out to Uche afterward, attempting to connect in his usual way, by playing the song by Lonely Guitar Man, so Uche could see through his eyes, but there was nothing, he couldn't feel anything.
And that made him worry.
"I know he's not dead."
Kante assured himself, though a flicker of doubt lingered.
"Maybe something's blocking the connection. Maybe someone…"
---
Slowly, Uche's eyes fluttered open. At first, the world was a haze of colors and shapes. But as his vision cleared, he found himself staring into a pair of bright, amused eyes, twinkling with a mischievous smile.
Startled, Uche shot upright and instinctively swung a fist. He stopped himself just in time as he realized who it was.
"Mira?"
He said, blinking in surprise.
"How did I get here? Was it you fighting the cops? How did you manage to cause so much… chaos? And where even is this?"
He looked around, his surroundings still unfamiliar. The room was bright, almost sterile, with sleek white walls, strange pieces of equipment he didn't recognize, and a small, neatly made bed beneath him.
Mira chuckled, pulling a chair closer to his bedside. She sat down and sipped a steaming cup of coffee, clearly amused by his confusion.
"Too many questions."
She teased.
"I brought you here, yes, but no, I wasn't the one who ambushed the cops. I didn't cause any mess; I just waited, picked you up, and left. Didn't even break a sweat or fight anyone, so easy."
She took another sip, a hint of a smile lingering on her lips.
Uche looked at her, bewildered.
"So, if it wasn't you… who was it?"
Mira set down her coffee and crossed her legs.
"The organ traffickers, i don't know how they managed to hear that you were arrested, but while in their base, I saw them loading up with weapons and new faces coming in, so I figured something was up and decided to follow them. And thanks to them, I was able to save you with ease, their ambush did most of the work for me—I didn't even need to fight."
She gave him a pointed look.
"I told you not to fight them, remember? You should have just surrendered quietly. If those traffickers hadn't shown up when they did, I might not have been able to save you, since the cops already know what you are."
She paused, narrowing her eyes at him.
"Didn't you get my voicemail?"
Uche shifted uncomfortably, adjusting the new eye patch Mira must have gotten him. His old one had probably burned to ashes.
"I tried, I surrendered like you said, let them cuff me. But that bastard, Snowflake—he was the one who set me up. He made contact just as they got me, telling me that the cops must have cuffed me by now. He framed me to keep them off his back, to let them think they'd captured him."
Uche clenched his fists, his voice tense with frustration.
"I… I was enraged, I yelled, and the cops freaked out, thinking I was trying to make a run, they all fired on me at once. That's when they figure out I'm not ordinary. "
Mira's eyes darkened.
"That cunning bastard. I figured he was involved the second I saw your face plastered everywhere. He knew the police were after him, so he threw you into the fire instead."
Uche nodded, jaw tight.
"I think he sent the organ traffickers after the cops, too. He said something like he'd be sending people after me—that letting the cops take me away wouldn't be any fun for him."
Mira's expression grew distant, thoughtful.
"What is that bastard planning?"
She murmured.
"You think they're working together?"
Uche asked, more to himself than to her, a flicker of doubt in his voice.
Mira shook her head.
"No. They're not in this together. But he's definitely wanted you for something. He got the cops off his trail by handing them a scapegoat—you. Then he used those traffickers to keep the cops from taking you away, and, for whatever reason, he couldn't let the traffickers have you either. I wouldn't be surprised if he was waiting somewhere, watching, hoping to swoop in himself and get you away, but luckily, I got there before him."
Uche stared at her, lost in thought. He hadn't fully pieced it together before, but now the motives behind Snowflake's moves were becoming clear.
"He needs me alive for something,"
He said slowly.
"I think he's among those who wants to get me for themselves."
Mira nodded.
"Yes. That bastard's cunning, and brutal. Only a handful of the cops survived, and the traffickers? They were wiped out entirely. There's no telling what he has planned, but we need to be careful. For now, you're safe here, but your face is all over the city. If you step outside, you're putting yourself—and us—at risk."
She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.
"I'm sure he'll reach out again. When he does, we'll be ready. We're not letting him get away with this. This is our move now."
Uche looked at her, his gaze steady. He didn't know what Snowflake's endgame was, but one thing was certain: whatever it was, he wouldn't play the pawn any longer.