James Aleshinloye
Jamal is standing at the window when he opens the door and walks into his study with Cameron right behind him. He turns and faces him with eyes that are expressionless as it watches his progress to his seat behind the desk. Sometimes, the boy frightens him but he knows there is nothing he can do to him, not on his territory anyway. He adjusts the picture of his daughter on his desk and struggles not to allow a fond smile spread across his face. It was a picture of her first day at ballet class and she looked so radiant in her white and pink gown and pop socks. He misses the girl but she doesn't want to have anything to do with him. Of course,it doesn't stop him from keeping track of her progress though. He sighs quietly as he faces Jamal who has been watching him closely.
"The loaves of bread haven't gotten to Abdullah and he is getting anxious." Jamal's voice is calm as he meets his eyes.
It takes all the training in him not to twitch under the youngerman's gaze, "Really? That is impossible. I am sure the boys did the needful."
"Edafe called me this morning and he gave us 24 hours to deliver it. Otherwise, it is hell." The only indication that Jamal is upset is the way he traces his finger along the thin, long scar at his nape in a back and forth motion, while he leans against the window.
"That is strange indeed. I will check with the boys and …"
"Please do. I have already done the same though. It seems as if the loaves just disappear off the surface of the earth without trace." Jamal snaps his fingers with a cold mirthless smile touching his full lips.
"We will trace it, boy. Don't worry about it and don't let those local boys threaten you. They will get their loaves as soon as they get there. I am making calls right away."
"Make those calls, James, and make them fast because I won't be the only one who will take the brunt of this fallout. Talk to your boys." Jamal's quiet voice sends shivers of fear down his spine.
"Are you threatening me, boy?" His voice narrows as his anger begins to build.
"No, I am not threatening you. I am just telling you the facts. Anyone who diverts those loaves will not go scot free. That is a promise." Jamal turns on his heel and moves towards the door. Cameron, James's bodyguard blocks his path while his gaze is on his boss for further instruction. Jamal put his hands in his pockets, waiting patiently.
The boy's audacity baffles him sometimes but he is about to learn the hard way. "Let him go, Cam."
Cameron steps away and Jamal stroll out.
James sits back in his seat, swiveling from side to side. The Crates of Arms are already on its way out of the country and should get to his international client soon. Jamal will just have to deal with it anyway he can. He doesn't really care.
"Cam, call the boys and warn them to keep their mouths shut. Any slip-up at all and I will have the culprit's body part hacked into pieces."
"Yes sir"
/\/\/\/\/\
Jamal Benson
Something is nagging at him. His instinct tells him James has something to do with the missing Crates of arms. The man loves money more than his life and won't be so calm about losing billions of Naira if he doesn't know the whereabouts. The cunning old bastard. He sits in his car and smashes his hand on the steering wheel in frustration. Abdullah is Jamal's client and he will have his head on a platter.
What pushes him to sign a partnership deal with James Aleshinloye of all people, knowing his dubious reputation in the underworld?
But he knows the answer. James is a born-Nigeria with a british passport and has international connections that are way beyond him. Jamal needs those connections, not only for his arms -dealing business but also for his other businesses as well. In the five years of partnership with James, he has eaten at the kind of tables that he has only dream of and grease elbow with people who have the kind of power that could ruin nations. If James is indeed behind the missing Crates, he is between the devil and the deep blue sea. He sighs.
He doesn't have close family ties or friendship,so none can be used against him. However, he has worked his ass off to leave behind the street gutter life he has always known, to get to where he is today. He would rather be dead before anyone can send him back to that life. If only they will just take his life and be done with it but No, these warlords don't just take lives, they smash it to pieces ,feed it to dogs bit by bit until you wish you were never born.
He picks up his second phone, input a code and dial a number.
"J.B, how nah?"
"Sup,guy? There's fire on the mountain. I need your tech expertise now more than ever."
"I am all ears." Jamal tells him.
"If the man is as powerful as you say he is, it will be difficult to link him to anything but I will try my best."
"That is all I need from you. I have put those boys through hell already but my gut tells me he is the culprit. Tomorrow morning, my 24 hour deadline is up."
"I will get back to you with everything I can find on him, including the colour of his shit." Henry is his buddy at the Orphanage home where he grew up and is known for his dreadful sense of humor at the most inopportune time. They met again on the street years later and kept in touch till now. He is a genius in Information Technology.
"You are mad, I swear." They both laugh.
"Later ,bro."