SHADOWCORP Episode 9 by kayemjay

SHADOWCORP Episode 9 written by kayemjay

On this wet and chilly evening, Hakeem walked into Bar Extreme in Lekki Phase One. This particular suburb was famous for its super exclusive standard of living tailored towards the high and mighty. It had been raining all day reducing the amount of traffic that would normally congest Admiralty Road. Hakeem worked as a drone operator for a media firm. He was supposed to shoot a video of the third mainland bridge for a documentary but the downpour confined him to his house. He was already grumpy when he entered the bar and needed some alcohol to cool off.

The bar was dimly lit, bright enough to see where you were going but dark enough to conceal the numerous faces in the lounge. He paused as he shut the door behind him, taking in the scenery and deciding where would be the most private spot he could relax and have a drink all by himself. As he looked around, the DJ switched the music sending everyone into a wild groovy frenzy. Well, almost everyone. Hakeem was unmoved. He was in fact appalled to say the least. There was a group of about ten to twelve people dancing in the middle of bar, grinding against each other. He moved among the crowd until he found a corner where the music was less loud and the activity was not disturbing. Settling into a chair, he signalled to a waiter to make his order.

“Captain Black, please. On the rocks. Medium size” he said to the waiter who nodded and walked away.

Hakeem took out his phone from the pocket of his blazer to see seven missed calls. The calls were from his girlfriend, his boss and a hidden number. He made a mental note to return the calls in the morning.  His drink arrived as he returned the phone. Settling his bulk comfortably in his chair and poured himself a glass. He sipped the contents of his glass gently, while looking round and taking in the sights of the bar. The DJ switched to R&B and the crowd on the dance floor reduced to a few couples. He was not surprised. It happened almost all the time. He was finishing his drink when a young lady came to where he sat. She smelled good and looked appealing. He could not make out her face, but from what he saw, Hakeem knew she was the kind of girl he would like. But on this day, Hakeem was in no mood for revelries. He just wanted to drink and go home.

“Hello handsome. Can I have some of what you are drinking?” she said, sitting next to him.

“I don’t remember saying you could sit.” Hakeem replied curtly.

“Oh, I see we have a macho here.” She responded. She took his glass, poured herself some of his drink and drained the glass in one gulp.

“Ah…strong! Just how I like it.” She finished and winked.

Hakeem grinned and wondered what the lady was doing flirting with him. She was not a call girl that much he could tell. She was decently dressed, looking more corporate than casual. On any other day Hakeem would have towed her line, taken her cue and they would probably be heading towards his place. However, he was not in the right frame of mind for what she was offering so he gave her no encouragement. She spoke to him some more, touching him as she flirted.

Out of nowhere, a mean looking man approached his table. He was at least 6.5 feet tall, had bulging biceps and the frame of a body builder. He wore a menacing look as he stopped in front of Hakeem.

“How dare you talk to my girl?” He quizzed, his fiery red eyes blazing in anger. He yanked the lady roughly from beside Hakeem and slapped her.

“Hey dude! That is no way to treat a lady. Where the hell did you get your home training from?” Hakeem said, standing up.

“First you try to take my girl, and now you have the guts to insult my parents?” He said flinging the girl away from him and facing Hakeem. He whistled softly and three men who had a body size just like his appeared from the darkness, menacingly dangerous.

“Look brother. I don’t want any trouble. I came here to have a drink and be on my way. I am sorry for talking to your girl. The next round is on me.” Hakeem said, his hands raised in surrender.

“It’s a little too late for that dude. You mess with me, you get a lesson. Boys, handle him.” The man ordered.

They rushed at Hakeem instantly, hitting him from all sides. He defended himself by covering his face, with his arms buckled around his ribs. He did not hit back. He just crouched, absorbing all the hits. The leader of the thugs went back to his girlfriend, picked her from the ground where she was sobbing, and slapped her. Twice in quick succession. Hakeem got angry.

He grabbed one of the thugs by the arm as he tried to lay a punch, twisted the arm and then punched him in the throat. The thug staggered backwards, gasping for air. Hakeem got to his feet, backing away slowly from the second thug who had grabbed a bottle from a table and broken it, using the base as a weapon. As Hakeem backed away he slowly took out his belt, folding it around his right fist. The thug ran at Hakeem, waving the broken bottle threateningly. Hakeem stood fast and waited for the right time. As the thug made to cut Hakeem with the broken bottle, Hakeem weaved slightly to the side, and punched the thug’s arm with his belt covered fist with the broken bottle falling to the ground. Hakeem then let out a series of one arm punches to the face of the thug with the belt covered fist. He held himself back when the thug fell, scattering tables, his face covered with blood.

The thug leader seeing that his goons were down, grabbed the lady by the arm and pulled her out of the bar. Hakeem held himself back from going after them. They were not his business. He felt blood in his mouth. There was a cut on his lower lip. He sat back down and grabbed his bottle. He was getting out of the place. He was almost at the door when the waiter caught up with him, informing him that he was yet to pay. He brought out his debit card and made to slot it into the POS when someone said from behind,

“Put it on my tab”

Hakeem walked back to thank the person who paid for his drink.

“Thank you very much. At least something good came out of this fracas.” Hakeem said stretching out his hand. The man shook his hand and nodded. The man wore an expensive white shirt tucked into a pair of pants. His blazer was hung on the chair on which he sat. He looked important, rich.

“My name is Hakeem.”

“Nice to meet you Hakeem. You can call me Sensei. Do you need a ride?”

“I would not mind at all, Sensei.”

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