The Odi List

By Oluchukwu Enwere

The hunt for the most dangerous assassin south of the Sahara is underway; unprecedented in the centuries old history of the region, an assassin who uses unconventional methods and has threatened and shaken the very foundations of public order and authority. An assassin that will not stop until the end.A
In the center of it all is a young intrepid agent, who is determined to track down this killer. His mission leads him to uncover a horrible crime committed fourteen years ago in a remote village in the Niger-Delta, and the mysteries surrounding the personality of the UNSUB, and most importantly, the motive. He soon realizes that he is engaged in a battle for not just his career, but his own life hangs in the balance.
As an act of desperation, the authorities appoint their most ruthless cop; Sergeant Ibrahim, a notorious no-nonsense police officer, devoid of empathy.
Newly promoted, he must prove himself worthy of his new position and rank or die trying. With a combination of ruthlessness and cunning, he soon tracks down the assassin to another remote village, where the stage is being set for the assassination of the ultimate target; the president.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: Aug 13, 2014
• ISBN: 9781490744056

Oluchukwu Enwere

Oluchukwu Enwere is a resident doctor in Nigeria.

Book preview

ONE

B rigadier- General Adolphus Orji crept out of the luxurious six by six in the presidential suite of the most expensive three star hotel in Umuahia, and staggered towards the bathroom. He felt dizzy upstairs, sweat was pouring all over his body, he was stark naked and he had just finished his sixth round of sex with one of the sweetest girl he had had in years of whoremongering. As with most his kind, he was given to liquor and women, something that was practically part of the curriculum in the academy and sometimes, the only thing, it seemed that they excelled in. He glanced back to look at his handiwork; the girl, about eighteen, was lying helpless and exhausted from his assault. Breathing heavily, chest heaving, as if she was going to die at any minute. He smiled and congratulated himself; at forty-six, he was glad that he could still drive the breath out of teenagers. He loved women, sex and actually the very young; he thought they were a little tighter down there. Once he had a twenty something, but hated himself after that; it seemed to him like he was laying his own mother. Since then, he had made it official policy that anyone he took to bed would not be more than twenty, nineteen maximum. A fact his men knew well, and which they kept in mind as they pimped for him. He loved the university types, the fresh men, spoilt greedy little brats who wanted more than they had, and he had the more to give.

As the commandant of the fourteenth brigade with headquarters at Ohafia near Umuahia, he was in charge of the third largest army base in the country, and so he had enormous privileges; four state governors were at his beck and call. He granted them favors which included personal protection for them and their families and even did their dirty laundry. In return, he had become an exceedingly wealthy man; he had almost everything he wished for, including hotel suites like the one he was in now, which were permanently rented for him, courtesy of the state governments.

Such sudden wealth was capable of ruining even the most prudent of men, and certainly for a man like himself, he was easily given to debauchery. He did not have combat experience; did not even wish to. He didn’t join the military to die, but rather to break even. His current rank and status has been well earned, not by merit in military terms, but by favor, which was usually granted by higher powers; the usual mode of advancement in his country. He thought he deserved his present status, having been under the shadow of a General for decades, it was compensatory for obedience and subservience or rather slavish devotion. The country was now under civil rule, much to the delight of the thieving politicians; but then it was the military that still called the shots from the shadows. It was men like him who actually ran things. He was still working his way to the top though, and confident he would get there. In just a little over a year he took the job, he had acquired so much that he could not even keep track of it. There were landed properties; buildings, duplexes, mansions in every state capital under his jurisdiction. Every politician wanted to impress. They had to, he thought, otherwise, without his escorts, they wouldn’t survive. It was still only 11 pm, the night was young, there was plenty more to drink, and at least four more rounds to go. His lips exploded in a joyous tune as he reminisced on the hours to come, staggering into the bathroom, and singing loudly as he hit the room. The floor was immaculate, marbled; the sink and the bathtub where all plated in gold, genuine gold he knew. He deserved all these after all, he thought; his services didn’t come cheap anyway. Something he had been trying to suppress for months crept into his mind again. How would he be living, if and when he became the head of state? Almost as soon as the thought came up, he slapped his face viciously, trying desperately to listen to himself, just in case he had altered anything to the hearing of the walls. The walls have ears, he said, loud enough for him to hear alone. He sighed, trying desperately to wipe out the thought, at least for now. He didn’t yet possess the resources and even the required command to pull off such a coup.

He took two steps towards the door, and into the bathroom, and started to urinate, guiding his urine stream with his right hand. As he voided, he took a look at himself in the mirror in front of him. He thought himself good looking, and still quite young, no wrinkles and so on. He was still engrossed in himself until he heard a sound; he was not sure he heard anything; in any case, he was almost done, as he flipped his penis violently up and down to rid it of any remnants of urine. At that instant, the light went off and the door suddenly closed itself. What the hell, he thought as he turned around immediately to observe what was wrong. Then he saw a figure arising from the ground very quickly in the dark; his heart raced, as fear seized him completely. Witchcraft, he thought.

As he opened his mouth wide to scream for help, almost instantly, he felt the cold sharp edge of a metal to the left side of his neck, and then realized a split second later that he could not scream. Something in his neck was pouring viscid liquid all over his trunk; he raised his right hand to his neck and removed it, to see it stained with blood, his own blood he realized a split second latter, but by then, he was already on his knees, clutching his neck, his voice unable to ring. He tried to reach for the door, but his hand fell short of it. He finally collapsed on the marble floor, blood creeping from the slashed neck all over the bathroom, his eyes and mouth wide open in horror.

She had heard the gentle noise, like someone stamping their feet on the ground. She thought she even heard a suppressed scream. Anyway, she was still out of breath to bother; the bastard was probably finding it difficult to pass urine. GOD! she exclaimed quietly; the man was a horse, the way he rammed her like a mad man. Each thrust seemed to her like the weight of a bag of cement being thrust upon her, driving the breath out of her. If he continued that way throughout the night, she was sure she would be dead by morning.

Anyway, the money was good. Like most of her type, she was brought up in a middle class background; her parents were top ranking civil servants who had given her a relatively better education than the ordinary folks around them. She had not really known hunger all her life; but then, they were the types who usually ended up in such a trade. She had the basic things of life, but she also wanted the luxuries. She was driven by greed like others, but in her case, she was also driven by an insatiable sexual desire.

She preferred older, even elderly men. It gave her the feeling that her own father was on top of her, driving her to ecstasy. She had even imagined it, she wouldn’t mind, but it was a sacrilege to even contemplate such evil in her society; it also helped to enhance her libido. Men are stupid, she had always told her friends. They were ready to pay anything, just for a piece of a woman’s body; especially the government types who looted public funds and threw it around blatantly. Well, if they were willing to spend, she was willing to take. It was good business for her; she gave almost nothing, but got everything, and in addition, enjoyed herself. This to her was very good business; it made perfect sense to be a woman.

She was well aware of her astonishing beauty and the effect she had on men; heads turned everywhere she went. At an early age, she had known men. She remembered her first sexual experience, a year ago, when she was eighteen and still in secondary school. She had gone visiting a family friend; a girl of about her age, with a father that was a colleague of her fathers’ but wealthier. Unfortunately or rather fortunately for her, her friend was not at home; instead, she was confronted by the father who could not resist her charms. It was the first time she had seen a man’s manhood. Seated in the parlor with him, she observed the upward and downward movement of the man’s wrapper around the groin; she didn’t know what it was then, had never seen anything like it, not until the man came close to her, cuddling her, then took her hand and placed it on the turgid flesh. She still remembered the man’s cry of ecstasy immediately she made contact with his thing. It was then that she sensed trouble and stood up to go. Then the man had pleaded for her to stay and touch his body, almost in tears. Then, she could not understand why a grown man, older than her father even and very powerful government man, could be crying for a little rat like herself. Who was she that someone that powerful would cry for? She was astonished, but then, her good sense urged her to continue her journey home. She politely declined his request and insisted on going; then it had happened.

Just a few more steps remaining to the front door, she felt strong hands seize both her shoulders and then wrap around her trunk, lifting her up. She opened her mouth to scream, even let out some high pitched noise, but then another hand occluded her mouth and nose so tightly that she feared she would suffocated. The man half carried, half dragged her to his bedroom and threw her violently on the bed; then he tore her clothes into pieces and threw them on the floor. She saw the monstrous look on his face and realized that she stood no chance of escape. Then she begged and begged and kept calling him uncle; perhaps that would bring him back to his senses and he would realize that she was young enough to be his daughter, but then, all her pleas fell on deaf ears; it was as if he was seized by an evil spirit. The man, the uncle, and the father- like figure she thought she knew so well, now seemed like a stranger, an animal. What could make such a man to turn from gentle to monster in a twinkle of an eye? She had asked herself severally. She didn’t understand it then, but she did now. The man had parted her tender legs and forcefully thrust himself into her. She had screamed at the top of her voice, but no one heard her. She had bled profusely, but not enough to put her life in danger. In less than twenty minutes, the man was done and climbed down from her. Then she started crying and had asked him why he had done such a thing to her. She thought her life was over and was even willing to end it there and then, but then what followed after, had changed her life forever.

The man had gone to his closet, and brought out one lump of bank notes which he threw at her, but she immediately shoved it off her; it was disgusting and she felt like vomiting. But the man had spoken to her harshly, ordering her immediately to take the money and go and to keep her mouth shut about what had happened. It was then that she looked at the lump and realized that it was a bundle of one thousand naira notes; she did a quick arithmetic in her head, which came to a total of a hundred thousand naira. The money was stunning for an eighteen year old, and was enough to secure her silence forever. She never spoke of the incident afterwards.

The incident had been an eye opener. She discovered that whatever it was that turned men into monsters, also gave them great joy. She remembered as the man had shuddered and screamed, shortly before he collapsed beside her, his mouth spewing out all sorts of thanks in between gasps of breath. That was when she realized she was walking about with a goldmine in- between her legs, and since then, she had made good use of it. Anything she wanted, she got; she had left secondary school with powerful grades, even secured university admission, all without much hassle.

The man had taken her regularly since then for a year, and then got tired of her. She had also learnt a lesson from it; that a man who appeared to give everything for sex, would give nothing once they were done with you; it was simple, they treated women like garbage. That realization hardened her heart and developed her into the mindless, emotionless whore she was presently. She had proceeded to extract as much as possible from her male victims.

Though she did not consider herself a prostitute; after all, she did not stand along the road half naked; she simply did it the modern way, the civilized way. Despite the excuses she had for doing what she did, she knew she was a whore, first- class. She had slept with no less than a hundred different men; all top ranking civil servants, politicians, businessmen, and military personnel; anyone with the money to spend. She blamed men for giving her that life, and was willing to squeeze out their pockets as a result. She had done very well for herself; at nineteen, she owned a brand new Toyota Avalon salon car and a bank account in seven figures.

She was recovering her breath and was now preparing her mind for yet another round. She was thankful somewhat in her mind, that at least she had a few minutes of rest. The bastard never gave her any breathing space in-between rounds. That was common with members of his vocation; they all wanted to extract as much sex as the money they were paying. She hoped he would remain there, whatever he was doing; she even heard herself praying that he passed out till morning. In that way, she could announced her exit by 6.00 AM, and demand her fees without further incursions into her body. He was drunk alright, his breath reeked of alcohol; but the General was not one to pass out so easily. She had had previous stints with him, and each time, he rode her non-stop till the early hours of the morning; whatever money he gave her, he made sure she worked for every dime.

But he had been in the bathroom too long; she estimated at least an hour. She wondered what he could be doing there. Whatever it was, she was going to find out, and GOD help him, if he was secretly gulping the herbal concoction that ensured endless turgidity; it was against the rules. Damn it, every whore knew it was against the rules. There were unofficial regulations that governed whoredom. If she could just catch him red handed, she thought, as her eyes lit up with mischief, she would put an end to the contract and even extract more money for damages. After all, it was unfair and even wicked; why would someone be hitting at another human being non-stop. It was like taking hormone enhancement in the sports world; those caught paid dearly for it. It was cheating, simple.

As she tip –toed towards the bathroom door, all her senses became alert. She stopped mid-way to the door and listened, but there was no sound at all. Has he really passed out, she thought. Her heart warmed as she thought of the possibility. The room was dark, there was no light and there were no lights on in the bathroom equally. She advanced further, stopped and listened; still no sound. It was then that her mind became suspicious. There was sometime ominous happening or had happened; she could sense evil in the air, hung all around her.

She advanced further, but by now she was shaking like a leave. Nothing was more frightening like the unknown. And the only way to put an end to her anxiety and fright was by opening the door. Whatever it was, she could confront it, be it the devil. She stopped short of opening the door as another thought crept into her mind. She had heard of men who used women for rituals, women like her. They would turn into snakes or whatever beast they wished and devoured their victims. She had always dismissed the stories as myth, had never seen anyone it happened to, let alone experience it herself. Even those who peddled the rumors; did so on hearsay. Even at that, the stories were always about politicians who wanted blood money and power, not the military types who could acquire both money and power with their guns and tanks. But at that moment, she wasn’t so sure she didn’t believe the story. She picked courage and took the final step to the door, stretching her right hand to open it.

It was then she noticed that she had stepped into a thick viscous fluid, but by then, the door was already open. In less than a millisecond, she absorbed the scenery. She saw the General lying awkwardly on the floor; his neck twisted at an odd angle, and what appeared to be blood was gushing out from his neck. She now realized what her foot was immersed in. It took her the next millisecond to realize it was murder, and the next one brought her close to screaming at the top of her voice, but she soon recollected herself and cupped her mouth with her right hand, in time to suppress any noise from it. Her criminal mind worked so fast to save her from what would have been instant death. She knew that if she was found alone with the corpse, she would immediately be executed; it was common practice among the armed forces, more especially the military. Her best chance of survival was to escape from the scene unseen, unnoticed and uncaught, but that was the tricky part. Whoever killed the General may probably still be lurking around somewhere in the dark. She lifted her shaky right hand and groped in the dark for the light switch. She found and immediately switched it on. The room was lit instantly like daylight, worsening the already ugly scene on the floor. She quickly swept every inch of the bathroom with her eyes, but she saw no one. What could have happened? She thought.

If someone did it, how did the person get in? She could not remember hearing the door opening at any time. Moreover, the General had locked it firmly. She retreated quietly into the room, flipped the light switch on, to make sure no one was there. And there was no one. She searched every room in the suite, looked under the bed, still no one. She went to the main door and confirmed that it was locked; it was as it had been, there seemed no sign of forced entry. Now she was both confused and frightened and her organs were now pumping enormous quantities of catecholamine into her blood stream. Her heart was pounding, threatening to burst through her chest, sweat poured unrestricted from her face and body and her extremities trembled. If someone did manage to get into the hotel suite and kill the General, then why was she spared?

Could it be a ghost? She wondered. In a country awash with diabolical events, anything could be possible. But whatever it was, was not going to find her here, she whispered to herself; afraid to say it loud for fear of being smoldered by the mysterious killer. She quickly wore her clothes, packed her handbag and was ready to vamoose. She took a quick look around the room to ensure that she was leaving nothing behind that could give her away; in any case, there was nothing implicating on her, she carried no identification whatsoever. Every professional whore on business knew better than to carry any form of identification, for the singular reason that situations like the one before her would come, as it regularly did; it made for easy escape in such circumstances. It was only the very dumb small timers that were caught in those situations.

Her bag packed and swung over her right shoulder, she quickly wiped her bloody feet on the bed sheet one by one and slipped on her shoes. Next, she went to the front door and quietly unlocked it. Slowly, she thrust her head through the door, just enough to see the hallway, flipping her head from left to right. The stairway was to her right, but she saw two evil looking well armed uniformed men, smoking cigarettes at the head of the staircase. She knew it was the General’s security detail; the man was paranoid with security. She quickly realized that an escape through the front door was impossible, but her mind quickly worked on an alternative route. She quickly and quietly withdrew her head and shut the door. The soldiers had not spotted her; they were busy smoking and gulping whiskey and generally showing off their power and importance. She was lucky, she thought, as she crossed the room in quick strides to the other side, which was where the balcony was. She opened the door that led into the balcony and looked down from it. It was a two storey building and she was in the last floor. Jumping would almost certainly put her life in danger, but there was no other choice. She swung her legs one by one over the metal railing and stood on the concrete pavement. She then hunkered down and hung herself from it with both hands. She then released herself and dropped all the way to the concrete floor beneath, landing with a loud noise, but she knew no one would hear it. It was past mid-night and most people where already asleep; moreover, the heavy duty Lister generator which powered the hotel was firing nearby. It produced so much noise, enough to drown even a nuclear explosion.

She sprang to her feet, checked herself to see she was okay, adjusted her blouse and jeans and fled from the scene. She had landed at the backyard of the hotel, so she quickly went around it, to the front entrance and briskly walked towards the gate. On the way, she narrowly missed running into the army convoy that brought the General and herself to the hotel. She passed through the gate without anyone noticing, except one of the night duty security men who somehow managed to escape sleep that night. He saw her pass the gate, without suspecting anything. It was after all, the usual hour for whores; they came and went as they pleased. Her heart was pounding by the time she was crossing the gate, but as soon as she was clear of the hotel premises, she turned left along Factory road and broke into a run. Within a second, she was swallowed up by the darkness; at least no one saw her, or so she thought.

It was 7.00 AM; Lieutenant Kennedy was already showered and dressed, same for all his men; platoon strength of twelve men, consisting of two Sergeants, three Corporals and seven privates, all armed to the teeth. They had Kalashnikovs, an armored tank, and enough ammunition to level a battalion of troops. The convoy was usually at least fifteen vehicles at any one time, depending on the number of accomplices. The lead and chase vehicles were the armored personnel carriers. The General was usually in the middle, well protected in a bullet proof jeep with three bodyguards, including himself and the driver. He always insisted he drove in his own vehicle, and direct the convoy from there.

For the Lieutenant, he didn’t see any use for such extensive security detail. It was a waste of manpower and resources. Apart from the narrow road that ran from Ohafia to Umuahia, there was really nothing threatening. Those areas were sparsely populated by improvised locals who were not capable of even posing a threat. On the other hand, it would be difficult for any external individual to intrude, since he made sure the lead vehicles carried deafening sirens, enough to put the fear of GOD into any intending assassin or troublemaker. For the hardened and determined ones, he had enough firepower to exterminate anything. He was very confident that his boss was well protected; after all, that was his duty. He took consolation in the fact that from history, there had never been any serious assassin; most, if not all were petty criminals and small time killers who murdered political opponents, but not the protected political figures and certainly not a General. Everyone was well aware of the repercussions. The perpetrators, and their accomplices, even their family members would be wiped out instantly, a gesture intended to serve as a deterrent to others. The criminals knew this and stayed away. But despite all these, the General was still scared, and he knew it was because of his dealings with the corrupt and evil politicians, which he himself was part of.

As chief of staff to the General, it was not really his duty to be guard, but in an institution with a tradition of god- fatherhood, a god son’s duties were undefined. He was expected to be a slave, to be at the beck and call of the boss, to be pimp and any other and whatever the god father wanted. That was the only way one could succeed and advance in the army. Hard work, intellect, and bravery meant nothing in the army. Those who disobeyed or never aligned themselves to a god- father never made it; they were either stagnated or worse still retired prematurely or sacked outright with flimsy excuses. And that was how he came to be a bodyguard for a General. An honorable officer of the Nigeria army, body guard? But he quickly recalled that it was because of his patron that he even got to his present rank.

He had graduated from the academy a year ago and commissioned second Lieutenant. Subsequently, he was among the very few from his class that made full Lieutenant in six months; the required length of time. He had classmates who were still in their previous ranks with no hope of advancing anytime soon. He knew if he kept up his subservience, he would be Captain within two years. Very strategic rank, he thought, as he smiled to himself.

He glanced at the wall clock in the hotel lobby on the ground floor. God! He exclaimed. It was already 7.30 AM. Why was the General not out yet? He wondered. They were supposed to be meeting with the governor by 8.00 AM. Not that it mattered so much to be late; after all, they were just meeting a bloody civilian. But as a young officer, he should be disciplined somehow. And moreover, such meetings always ended with the distribution of Ghana- must- go bags stuffed with high denomination bank notes, of which he manages to steal a few bundles before delivering it to the boss. After all, no one counted these things and that was how he came to love such meetings. He looked at the clock again; 7.45, just fifteen minutes to the time. He wasn’t just going to sit there and do nothing; it was also his duty to ensure that the boss kept to time. He got up from his seat and walked briskly towards the staircase. Within a few seconds, he was at the top. The two sentries he had posted there for the night saluted smartly, and he responded with a slight nod. He observed that they looked exhausted, their eyes red from lack of sleep. They could die for all he cared; he was not a man used to sympathy.

Have you seen him this morning? He barked at the guards.

No sir! Both echoed together.

Could it mean he was still sleeping? He thought. He started to walk towards the door, but hesitated. The boss had made it clear several times that he frowned at disturbances whenever he was doing his thing. Not that he had been in the habit of doing it, but in the past, the boss had had cause to reprimand him; such misgivings were capable of throwing him out of favor. But the General never slept this late; moreover, he was well aware of the meeting and was even the one who fixed it. That was the reason why they were in Umuahia in the first place. This was very much unlike him; unless, may be something was wrong. His sixth sense intervened.

Maybe! Maybe! He kept repeating to himself as he advanced towards the door of the presidential suite. He was going to take his chances anyways. He knocked lightly, just in case the man was in the thick of things. There was no response. He knocked again; louder this time, still no response. A third time and still no response. He was agitated now, something was definitely wrong inside. He now pounded on the door and tried opening it. It was locked.

What was going on? He wondered. There were supposed to be two individuals in the room and still it seemed as quiet as a grave yard. Something was wrong and he was going to find out, even if it would cost him his job. He beckoned on the two guards at the staircase and ordered them to break down the door. They hesitated for a fraction of a second; it was obvious that they were frightened of breaking the door that led to a room occupied by their commanding General. That would probably mean imprisonment if they were lucky, execution was more likely.

I said, break down the door! The Lieutenant barked again loudly, sensing their hesitation and visibly infuriated. Now they had no choice, an officer was ordering them, and they dared not disobey. Both of them started hitting at the door with the butt of their guns. They pounded at it with all their strength until the wooden door disintegrated. Both stood aside, not daring to enter the room, just in case the boss had been woken from sleep and was now looking to see who the hell it was that disturbed him. Better to let the officer take the lead and the blame, after all, he was an officer; it was his duty to take responsibility.

Lieutenant Kennedy walked into the suite slowly, flipping his head from left to right, eyes and ears at alert, his service pistol in his right hand and cocked, ready to shoot. He tip-toed quietly, stooping slightly, into the sitting room, observing the quietness. The place was devoid of life. He sensed danger in the air which hung heavily around him. He was surprised to hear his own heartbeat; his breathing was in quick gasps. Now he was certain something was wrong. There was no sign of human activity inside the room.

His first instinct was to turn and bolt as fast as possible, and he nearly did just that. But then, it would be embarrassing, as the two privates who were behind him would surely report it; unless of course he shot them. Well, he was not in the mood to shoot anyone; moreover, it was uncalled for. In any case, he wasn’t going to risk his life alone. He turned and ordered the two guards at the doorway to search the entire suite. He then walked into the bedroom which was still relatively dark because of the closed blinds. In two quick steps, he was at the window, opening it and flooding the room with sunlight. Then he saw it. His eyes followed the bloody foot prints to their origin at the bathroom door and to the pool of blood which was caked by now. His heart rate slowed as he was now confronted with the obvious. Someone was dead, and he was sure it was the General. Who else could it be? Nevertheless, he advanced towards the bathroom door which was slightly open, first peeping through it and then opening it wide. Seeing the lifeless body of General Adolphus Orji shocked him, causing revulsion within his bowels, and making him vomit instantly. He saw the large wound in the neck, shuddering at the sight.

The man had been slaughtered like an animal. How was that possible? He thought. His security arrangement had been perfect; he had made sure no one entered the entire floor throughout the night. He was certain there was no way someone could have entered through the front door, unless perhaps through the back. He quickly examined the balcony, and ruled out the possibility of an intruder. It was the whore, he thought; there was no sign of her. She was the one that did it. He was certain. How she accomplished it or escaped was not relevant; as far as he was concerned, he had his suspect and would soon have her in custody. But how could a nineteen year old accomplish such a task, he asked himself again as the realization hit him hard. He knew the girl, was even the one who introduced her to the boss, after a few digs of his own. And for God’s sake, who put her up to this; surely it had to be someone. All these questions she would have to answer when he caught up with her soon enough; he, like many others in the force was an expert in retrieving information from suspects.

Now he was finished, he thought. With his patron gone, he was dead meat. The vultures would pick at him down to his bones. He knew his career was finished. His boss had many enemies within the force, and they would most certainly move in to claim his territory and in the process do away with his organization, and that included him. But he was not going to let a mere girl ruin his life and go free; he would most certainly take his revenge. He quickly summoned the lead Sergeant, and ordered him to gather the troops.

Everyone in the hotel would be arrested; everyone including the gatemen, the receptionists, even other lodgers and visitors. Anyone unfortunate to be present in the hotel that morning. First, he had the night duty gatemen locked up in a separate room, all twelve in total; including the ones in the entrance and exit from the hotel, the ones that paraded the compound, even the ones in the hotel lobby, anyone with a uniform. Then he ordered the female receptionists, the maids, and the rest of the hotel staff locked – up in another room. Every lodger was forcefully driven out of their rooms and brought to the lobby. Some barely had time to put on proper clothing. Whoever they were; man and wife, man and girlfriend, were forced out almost naked. The scene was chaotic; the women cried, the men just stood by and watched, confused and scared.

Lieutenant Kennedy started with the guards. He entered the room with four privates, each brandishing a Kalashnikov and a wooden club. The look on their faces was deadly. None of the men had any idea what was going on at all, but no one dared ask. Everyone in the country knew better than to question a uniformed soldier; they were considered gods and behaved as such. They could