Desperation Continua!

Hi y’all! Let me first extend my heartfelt apologies to everyone who I’ve kept Desperate for way too long. Sitting down to write out the words to this splendid story has never been so difficult before. In my defense, not less than 35 babies and 10 women would like to add to my plea for leniency also :'( So…we’re cool? Sure? Thanks! You’re awesome! 😐

Secondly, I’m sorry but Desperation has  slipped away from me – It simply refuses to end just at where it is now! I write one page, meaning to end at the bottom, and it just spills unto the next one and so on… So I’m begging your indulgence as we navigate the twists and turns of this original story. And because I also happen to believe it would be a dirty crime to amputate such a robust story before it has time to reach it’s deserving climax, I crave your indulgence as I walk you all the way at last to the end. 

So *rubbing my hands with glee*, where did we leave you?

– Dr. Lewis Koomson spectacularly escaped from the Rig and Mr. Calder before showing up at his cousin, Kwamena Jones’ home in Elmina, just in time to find out a vital part of his life had been a lie – “Paa Kwesi,” he began, using Lewis’s Fanti name – a sure sign of trouble. Uh oh, Lewis thought with dread at his next words. “There’s something I’ve got to tell you about Tracy.”

– Meanwhile on the Rig, Dr. Jeremy Aruba was getting closer to discovery but managed to secure access to a vital resource for IFAS: Project Mel-1A. – “You know Project MEL-1A, the AI? It’s far much more than an ultra-supercomputer. She’s alive!”

– Lewis gets familiar with the AI while Tracy & Enrico have a showdown at the Danyame Association facility – “Let me save you some money too: 1 Le Fort III fracture, 1 horizontal fracture of the nasal bridge, 1 midline mandibular fracture, 1 splenic rupture and several bodily contusions!” she taunted him, breathing heavily also.

– Things approached a head as the Association executed a bold strike at IFAS HQ and Lewis, in tandem with AI, reacted spectacularly when trapped at ground zero – He felt his muscles rhythmically tense and relax as the tension built up within till silently, using his forward leaning foot as a pivot, he suddenly slammed his hands into the ground, generating a centripetal force strong enough to move along his trunk as his legs went over his head to land his outwardly kicking heel squarely on the concealed mercenary’s right temple –meia lua de compasso, an advanced Capoeira strike!

– On the Rig, Jeremy finally faced down Calder and made preparations for imminent departure as the trap grew tighter around him. IFAS operatives currently head to the Rig…including Lewis – Revving the wild v10 engine in anticipation, he barrelled down at the Gardener in an uneven game of Chicken, who/which was either too dumb to be afraid or too self-confident to care. Neither attribute benefited the monster as the heavy-treaded vehicle drove right over him/it with the sickening sound of splintering bones that Lewis thankfully didn’t hear in the well-insulated interior of the vehicle. Fishtailing only for a second, he burst out through the main gates unto the main road as he made a beeline to Elmina.

So, we’re all caught up now! Here’s #TeleTuesdays serving this afternoon people. Enjoy!

**********

 

The door to the Janitor’s Closet beeped a few times in quick succession before slowly swinging open.

A tall middle-aged man with graying temples, distinguished-looking and dressed all in black robes reminiscent of a clergyman’s – save for the absence of a white collar – stepped into the room slowly, a look of pure shock on his face.

A priest holding prayer beads   Original Filename: 88623206.jpg“Oh my God,” he softly exclaimed as he stepped over Director Hannelore’s prone figure and into the room. He stood just before the ruined console as he surveyed the room, taking in the damage done to it and finally let go of the pent up breath he had reflexively been holding since he entered. Dented walls and a number of cracked tiles told a silent story of violence.

Enrico Alamos’ breathing was still coming in ragged gasps as he now sat propped up against the console, seemingly only partially lucid.

The man walked up to him and bent to look a bit more closely into his semi-conscious eyes, laying his hand against his neck before straightening up and shaking his head.

“Help…me,” Hannelore groaned from behind the door, causing the man to spin round immediately, rushing to his side.

He helped the Director up into a sitting position, leaning him against the wall as he knelt on one knee by his side, his face touched with concern.

“Director Hannelore? I’m Edward Adjei. Are you okay?”

The Director lifted his head up from his hands as he tried to focus on the face in front of him.

“Edward who?,” he warily eyed the other man whose strange features became clearer as he squinted, trying to ignore the pounding headache he was having.

“Edward Adjei, from the Association – Human Resource Division. Your uplink connection with our databases was severed at 6:45pm earlier this evening and so I was sent to find out what the problem was. What happened?! This place looks like a grenade went off in here!”

“Tracy,” Hannelore managed to wheeze out her name. “That filthy traitor trashed the whole place and did a number on Alamos over there. She knocked me out and I think she’s absconded with some valuable data of ours!” He ended in a groan as s sudden stab of pain seared through his head. He wasn’t too sure but he could have sworn he’d felt a slight pinprick as the other man had bent to help him up just moments ago but he shrugged it off with the sharp headache.

“So, I guess this facility is compromised after all,” Edward replied in a monotone that had suddenly gone cold.

Hannelore suddenly felt flushed with warmth as a sudden difficulty in breathing overcame him. Edward stepped back and reached into his robe’s pocket to draw out a clerical collar to slip into position in his clergy shirt.

pbookStepping back from the Director, he opened a small prayer book and proceeded to read the Prayer for the Dead out aloud:

God our Father, 
Your power brings us to birth,
Your providence guides our lives,
and by Your command we return to dust.

By the time he had intoned the last word of the first verse, Hannelore’s eyes had gone red from the rupture of his tiny retinal blood vessels whilst his face was set in a rictus of gruesome death.

Looking over at the larger man sprawled over by the counter with the same, he made a sign of the cross in the air in his direction, closing the prayer book and slipping it once more into the folds of his coat. Drawing out an audio recorder stick, he depressed a button and made his report.

“Lesser operational site in Kumasi irrevocably compromised. Operative Tracy Opoku confirmed as having gone full rogue and is responsible for reported data breach. All witnesses and core members connected to the event have been…pacified.”

He ended by depressing the same button which would then also transmit the recording to Association headquarters to update the powers that be.

The Priest then walked out of the Janitor’s Closet without a single glance back, striding down the corridors leading outside, ignoring the still bodies of the security personnel that had vigorously roamed the hallways only minutes before. Pacification was Pacification and none culpable, or even tangentially aware, of the Association’s Kumasi base of operations could be passed over in this.

Stepping out of the now deserted lobby, he paused for a moment to stare intently at the guard’s booth, mentally weighing the merits of dispatching with the 2 guards on duty there. He stared at the rosary ring on his right middle finger, at the central bump on the palmar side and the depression on it that would automatically eject a tiny sharp point that was laced with a deadly venom.

Shaking his head slightly, he decided against adding them to the List. Instead, he walked right past the booth, only stopping for a minute to intone to them with his right hand raised in blessing, “May the Lord be with you.”

Hailing a cab, he settled into the backseat with a sigh. Cleanup crews would be on site within the hour and the remaining personnel would be unceremoniously discharged with a hefty bonus after termination of their employment.

Opening another small black notebook which he drew from his front pocket together with a small pencil, he crossed out the 2 last names on the List before adding a new one at the bottom: Tracy Opoku.

todo

 

…Tele 😉

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3 Comments

  1. Maame said:

    Good to see you back Tele. Top secret I found your Muse …

    May 3, 2015
    Reply
  2. Nina said:

    Teleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!

    April 29, 2015
    Reply
  3. Eunice said:

    Awww finally, now u’ve got me on edge. Tuesday please hurry…..that was a good one though 🙂

    April 22, 2015
    Reply

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