BLOODLINE Part 2 (Blood And Diamond) by Ironkurtain

BLOODLINE Part 2 (Blood And Diamond) by Ironkurtain

BLOODLINE Part 2 (Blood And Diamond) by Ironkurtain

After much anticipation, i have decided to drop the second part of my first story….

Click Here To Read Part 1> BLOODLINE { The Family }


Contact the author at

This work contains a lot of explicit language and highly graphic contents……readers discretion is advised.

September 24th 2014. Somewhere in the rebel occupied region of Congo.

A brown Agama lizard slowly but steadily crawled its way across the dusty road; heading for the shade at the other side to hide from the blistering heat of the afternoon. Making a few pause in its movement, it made a few glances with its unblinking eyes and crawled a few inches. Then it stopped again, resting one of it’s front claw on a rusty spent bullet casing.

Many more, perhaps hundreds of the casings, littered around the place as the reptile made its way through the pieces of metals and dirt scattered all over the dusty road, heading towards what was left of a storey building. Like most of the buildings in the area, it was completely damaged. The walls ridden with bullet holes and the roof destroyed. A few signs on the buildings that survived the destruction and rust showed that it was once a thriving province before havoc was wrecked in the place with war machines.

Halfway to its destination, the reptile stopped in its track again. The ground underneath it seems to be trembling with a roaring noise that keep getting louder and louder. Then the lizard made a quick turn and raced back to where it came. Fast enough to escape being run over by the tires of the convoy passing through.

There are three vehicles in the convoy. Two tarpaulin covered military trucks trailing behind a dusty black coloured 1997 Mercedes benz E-class. They left trail of thick dust cloud as the convoy raced through the rough road heading towards what seems to be a settlement seen in a distance.

The driver worked the steering wheel as the Mercedes raced through the dusty road; swerving left and right as he made the car to avoid the pot holes and bumps. With the cold look in his beady bear like eyes and a merciless scowl in his face, he glanced at occupants in the back seat through the rearview mirror. There are four other people in the car.

A fierce looking young man, probably in his early twenties and very dark in complexion, sat on the front passenger seat beside the driver. His somewhat skinny body wore a worn out military fatigue with his rough hands bearing an AK47 automatic rifle. Two same looking men were at the back seat with another man sandwiched inbetween them. And they also carried automatic weapons.

The man sitting inbetween the two armed men at the backseat was in an uncomfortable position. His hands were tied together behind his back, head bowed, and eyes blindfolded. He seems to be a prisoner or a victim of a kidnap being driven to a location in a car full of men armed with automatic assault rifles.

But yet, he looked calm and visibly composed. And unlike his rough and rugged looking captors, he looked quite clean and built. He wore a long sleeve navy blue plaid check shirt with its sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

The man in the front seat sighed and lazily took out a crumpled pack of cigarette from his breast pocket. He glanced at their victim through the rearview mirror as he lit himself a stick and took a drag.

“What do you think the boss gonna do with him?”, the man asked the driver in french as he exhaled the smoke from his lungs and jerked his head at the blindfolded man.

“I dont know…..”, the driver replied, shifting his eyes to the image in the rearview mirror and then back to the road. “…..Probably kill him like the rest.

“Bloody foreigners……..”, the man scoffed and took another drag from the cigarette. “If they are not here to take the diamonds, they are here to sell weapons”, he puffed out the cigarette smoke and looked at the driver.

“This one is probably the stupidest of them all……here to sell weapons without security or bodyguards. Not even carrying a gun…….. those diseased prostitutes in Kinshasa must have made him think that he was in his maternal home”, the man said with a grin and the two armed men at the backseat roared with laughter.

“And you have to be worried about that”, the driver said without looking at the man beside him.

The man stared at the driver with the grin on his face fading away.

“What do you mean by that?”, he asked.

The driver didnt answer the question. He remained silent and continued driving while the man looked at him and then glanced at the occupants behind him.

“Why the hell should i be worried?”, the man asked again with a smirk.

“With all the killings and bloody sh!ts going on……especially in this region”, the driver began quietly, scratching the deep scar on his forehead. “It will be highly unusual for someone not from here, especially a foreigner to come in this kind of place to conduct any business without some serious protection”, then he looked at the man beside him. “That’s why am having some bad feelings about this guy”.

The two other men at the back glanced at each other and stared at man they held captive.

“The guy is quite built and looks tough”, the one sitting on the left noted as he ran his eyes from the blindfolded man’s head to his feet. “Do you think he could be one of those guys?”, he asked the other man on the right.

“Which guys?”.

“You know…….those guys in the movies……the ones who take out an enemy group singlehandedly”.

“You are an idiot”.

“What do you mean by that?, you think it is not possible?”.

“Shut your mouth!……you watch too much American movies”.

“Yeah with your mother”.

“What did you just say?”.

“Why dont the both you shut your mouths before i do it myself”, the man in the front seat said as the two men at the back were about to start having an unfriendly argument. Then he looked at the driver and dipped his right hand inside his pocket. “No matter who he is……or how built he is, one thing is for sure”, he took out a bullet from his pockect.

“I’m yet to see anyone who is built for this”, he continued and he waved the slug at the driver. “So dont worry about this Kizengi. If he makes any wrong move i will blow his brains out myself”.

“I hope you are right”, the driver murmured, swerving the car and making it to take a left turn. The trucks behind followed suit.


Note: Kizengi means Ret@rd in congolese language.

Sitting on a dirty white plastic patio chair under a makeshift tent, Jacques took a sip from the glass cup he carelessly held close to his chest while listening to the wireless radio on the table infront him. Grimacing as the strong liquor flowed inside him, he placed the glass on the table near a half empty bottle of Jack Daniel and reclined slowly in his chair.

He was flanked by two brutish and fearsome looking men wearing an army fatigue with big arms bearing automatic rifles. Both men had their fingers on the trigger of their guns with keen looks on their faces as they guarded the man sitting inbetween them while he listened to the radio. And watched the activities going on around the camp.

Jacques Bemba, a.k.a Black mamba. The leader of a rebel faction known as Congo Boys Revolutionary Army or C.O.B.R.A . A man in his early forties and a former colonel in the country’s army. He is slightly overweight with a bushy beard covered face and a dark sunshade covering his gleamy eyes.

A man who always sees himself as a flamboyant individual, even though he is the leader of one of the worst marauding death squad in the conflict ridden country. And a man known to be a wanted terrorist by all the regional and international community.

Sitting majestically on his seat with two big bodies guarding him, Jaques reached for the glass of drink on the table and looked around his camp. The place used to be the province administrative center. It had two dilapidated two storey buildings and a few tents surrounding it.

Several gun-toting men walked around the place or sat under a shade and playing a card game. Jacques raised the glass to his lips and saw the cloud of dust raised by the convoy as they approached the camp. He took a sip and looked at his gold wristwatch.

“They are here……and right on time”, he murmured and glanced at one of his bodyguards.

Then he got up from his seat with a sigh and straightened his camouflage shirt. A girl, probably in her teens and haggard looking in her threadbare clothing approached him. She was carrying a tray filled with sliced fruits and being followed by another gunman.

Jacques motioned at the visibly scared girl without even looking at her and the armed man following her grabbed her arm rather roughly. Saying “the commander is not hungry” in french, he pulled her away. The girl bowed with a downcast gaze and started walking towards were several other disheveled looking women could be seen doing chores in the camp.

Jacques motioned at his bodyguards and they started heading towards the convoy that had rolled into the camp and grinded to a halt in the grassy field. Six sweaty armed men jumped down from the back of the first truck and started offloading boxes of ammunitions.

Two men jumped down from the back of the second truck and offloaded it’s content; young girls. About fifteen of them. The frightened and crying girls were roughly taken down from the back of the truck, one by one. They were greeted by the hailing and cheering of the rebels as they are being taken to one of the buildings at gunpoint.

The other women in the camp stopped the chores they were doing and looked at the new arrivals with alot of pity as they were being led away. They all knew what was going to happen to the girls. The same thing that happened to them on their first day in the camp.

The man sitting next to the driver in the Mercedes Benz got out from the car as Jacques approached and saluted the rebel commander.

“Joseph… boy”, Jacques began with a smile and patted the man on his back. “Another successful operation…….I’m very proud of you. I know i made the right decision in choosing you to be my second in command”.

“Thank you sir”, Joseph saluted again.

Then Jacques looked at the boxes of ammos and weapons being offloaded with alot of delight

“The weapons?”, he asked and strode towards the wooden boxes

“Yes sir”, Joseph replied proudly and glanced at the other armed occupants alighting from the Mercedes.

“The guns looks new…….”, The commander noted as he picked up one of the rifles and inspected it. “I hope they works fine”, he asked and looked at his number two man with a smile.

“Works perfectly……..the foreigner tested some before we took him hostage”

Jacques paused for a while. He looked at Joseph with his smile fading away. Then at the blindfolded man sitting in the back of the Benz.

“Him?”, he asked and pointed at the prisoner.

“Yes, him sir”, Joseph replied. “He came alone…….quite brave to come to a place……”.

“Let me see him”, Jacques interrupted.

The men standing beside the car immediately grabbed the blindfolded man and roughly yanked him out of the car. They dragged him and stood him infront of their leader. Jacques took off his shades and looked at the man from head to toe.

“Take off the blindfolds”, he ordered and one of his men took off the dirty rag tied around the prisoner’s face.

The prisoner bowed his head abit and squinted his eyes when the sunlight hit them. After a few seconds, he looked up and stared at Jacques. Then he glanced around the place and looked at Jacques again.

“Who are you?”, Jacques asked the man in english.

The prisoner glanced at the other armed men surrounding them.

“What is the meaning of this…….”, he demanded and looked at Jacques. “……i thought you already know who i am”.

“I don’t know who you are”, Jacques countered.

“I am the guy…….”, the prisoner stammered. “The guy sent to deliver what you requested and i did so as ordered. But my people wont be happy with the kind of treatment i am getting here”.

“I know that i requested weapons and ammos”, Jacques said and slowly paced around the man. “And i know that it was being delivered as promised by your people”, then he stopped behind the man. “But the problem am having right now is, i was told that it will be delivered by a woman”.

Joseph and the other men glanced at each other with a confused look in their faces.

“You dont in any way look like a woman……or are you?”, Jacques continued and glancing at the man from head to toe again.

“There must be some kind of a miscommunication between you and my people”, the prisoner sighed, feeling uncomfortable with his hands being tied together behind him.

“Miscommunication?, so it either your people dont know what they are doing……..or you are saying that i am probably dumb”, Jacques smirked.

“No disrespect sir…….”, the prisoner began and glanced at the rebels who were staring at him with a suspicious look in their faces. “…..but everything you request had being delivered. So does it really matter who did the delivering?. Beside, how will i be in possession of the things to be delivered to you and be in the place it was supposed to be delivered and at the exact time if i am not the one sent to do it?”, he asked.

“Well….”, Jacques smiled and put on his darkshades. “That, we will soon find out”, then he looked at his second in commmand. “Take him to the room……call the doctor”, he ordered and left with his bodyguards.

Joseph motioned at the two armed men holding the prisoner and they immediately dragged him towards one of the building. As they headed to the place, the prisoner glanced around the camp and watched every activities he could see.

One in particular made him stop in his tracks. One of the rebels was mercilessly beating a frail looking woman with a stick as the woman pleaded. The prisoner stared as the brute grabbed the woman by her throat and dragged her into one of the tents till the men leading him shoved him roughly to make him keep walking. He continued walking towards the building but still had his eyes on the tent till he entered the place.


“So who are you?”, Joseph asked again as he re-wrapped the bloodstained piece of cloth around his knuckles and looked at the prisoner sitting on the chair with his hands tied behind his back. “You better start talking my friend……the commander wants some answers and it is best not to keep him waiting”, he continued.

The prisoner licked the cut on his lower lip inflicted by the beatings he had being receiving and spat out saliva mixed with blood. He looked at Joseph and smiled.

“I like the way you punch sir……”, he began, still smiling. “Did your sister teach you how to throw a fist?”, he asked intently.

Joseph swung a vicious punch and it caught the prisoner on his left jaw.

“Could you do that one more time please”, the man begged and it attracted five……six more blows to the face and guts.”Am getting really bored sir……when will the real thing start?”, the man continued.

Joseph stared at the prisoner, sweating and trying to catch his breath. Then he wiped the beads of sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand and looked at the big man holding the prisoner down on the chair while he got pummeled.

“Let the doctor do his job”, the big man suggested as he straightened up. “I told you that this guy might be a hard nut to crack. The doctor should do it his own way……he always make them talk”.

Joseph undid the bloodstained piece of cloth wrapped around his right knuckles. And motioned at the bald headed skinny looking man who had being standing and watching. He had a knapsack lying on the floor next to him.

The so called doctor picked up the sack and approached the prisoner quietly. He stared at him for a few seconds with a disturbing mischievous smile on his face. The expression seems to be a permanent one as he still had it as he opened the sack and deposited it’s content on a table the big man had placed beside the doctor.

The prisoner stared at the doctor. Then at the things on the table. Rusty scarpel, hacksaw, hook-like metals, matchete, hammer and nails of various sizes. The prisoner smiled and looked at the doctor again.

“Doctor, do you in anyway have any remedy for a headache?”, the prisoner asked intently as the doctor stared at his tools on the table, perhaps wondering which one to use first.

Then the skinny man picked up the rusty scarpel and examined it. He looked at the prisoner with his ever mischievous smile and nodded delightfully.

“Make sure the words coming out from his dirty mouth are the words we want to hear”, Joseph said to the doctor in french and stepped aside.

The doctor placed the scarpel on the table and brought out a pair of dirty rubber gloves from his left pocket. Gently sliding his hands into the gloves, he looked at the other tools on the table.

“Don’t you think it is better to tell them what they want, than me making you to do so?”, he then asked the prisoner in english with a french accent. “Because if i do it myself, i usually find it difficult to stop. Even after you have told us all we want to hear”, the doctor continued, still staring at his tools of torture.

“Doctor…..right?…….or should i call you the gynecologist”.

The doctor paused in what he was doing and looked at the prisoner.

“Yeah…….the gynecologist. The Rwandan gynecologist…….that’s what they call you”, the prisoner continued. “Specialized in female circumcision”, he smirked. “So doc, can you tell me what was the look on the faces of your patients when you…….operated on them?……all those girls and women”.

The doctor’s mischievous smile turned into an evil one as he stared at prisoner.

“I’m still wondering what made you to do all those things to those women…….especially being someone born of a woman”, the prisoner kept talking. “Did you face alot of rejection from the opposite sex during your childhood?…..perhaps alot of disappointments from girlfriends?…..unable to get past the friendzone in all your relationships?”.

The doctor picked up the scarpel again. He examined it’s blade with his thumb. And said, “You are about to find out…. my friend”. He looked at the big man and nodded at him. The big man dropped his rifle on the table and rolled up his sleeves while Joseph lit himself a cigarette.

“Make sure you hold the kizengi down firmly”, Joseph said and blew a cloud of smoke. “I dont want the doctor missing any cut he intends to make”.

The big man stood beside the prisoner, waiting for the order to hold him firm on the chair while the doctor stood infront. The prisoner slowly turned his head at the fearsome looking man and ran his eyes from the man’s head to his toe with a smirk on his face.

“This is your last chance my friend”, the doctor then said impatiently and brought the prisoner’s attention back to him. “You better start talking…..before i make you talk”, he continued and waved the scalpel.

“Nope”, the prisoner began and slightly moved his body on the chair. “This is Your last chance to talk”. Then he glanced at his captors with a sinister look on his face. “This is you last chance… tell me where you guys are holding the white man”, he continued and moved his body again.

The atmosphere in the poorly lighted torture room suddenly became tense. The doctor furrowed his brows and looked at the big man standing beside the prisoner. And then looked at Joseph with a baffled look on his face.

Joseph slowly lowered the hand that held the cigarette he was smoking. He too was baffled as he stared at the prisoner with furrowed eyebrows. And he had just found out that they were dealing with a guy who was more than a just a gun-runner.

“And……”, the prisoner moved his body yet again with a low grunt. “…….i might go easy on the bad predicaments i intend to bring to this…”, he concluded and dropped the rope that was used to tie his hands on the floor. He had loosened it.

The doctor gasped with alot of fear on seeing the rope the prisoner dropped infront of him. The big man immediately made a move to grab the prisoner. But prisoner was much more faster. And a lightening speed, he got up and swung the chair at the big man. The chair struck the man and the blow snapped his neck, killing him instantly.

With the same speed, the prisoner grabbed the doctor’s hand that held the scarpel and twisted it. At the same time he grabbed the collar of the doctor’s shirt and swung the light weight man at Joseph who was making a quick move to grab the weapon on the table. The doctor’s body knocked Joseph down and the impact left both men sprawling on the floor.

Joseph immediately made an attempt to get up. But a strong hand grabbed his neck, almost crushing his windpipe and lift him up. One moment his legs were dangling in the air, the next his body is being careened against the wall, face first. The impact cracked his skull and shattered his jaw. As he crumbled to the floor, a foot came looming at his face and crushed what was left of it against the wall with a sickening crunch.

The doctor, still sprawling on the floor managed to turn after shaking off the massive concussion he took from the body slam. He looked up and saw the man, their prisoner standing over him. Then he looked around and saw the other two men lying on the floor dead. One’s neck was twisted in an angle not possible for a human neck while the other’s face was unrecognizable.

“Where is he?”, the prisoner asked and picked up the scarpel the doctor had dropped. “Where is the white man being held”, he asked again with a cold look in his face.

“First floor……third room on the left……please don’t …..”.

That was all the doctor could say before the man bent over him with the scarpel, covered his mouth and opened up his neck arteries with the surgery knife.

The man dropped the scarpel beside the almost decapitated body and grabbed the rifle on the table. He quietly paced to the door of the room and stood near it. He waited to see if the noise of the killings had attracted any attention.

Then he open the door slightly and peeped to check the activities going on in the corridor. The three armed men at the far end didnt seem to notice what had happened as they keep discussing among themselves.

The man locked the door and glanced at the bodies of the three men he had just killed. He went over to the table and dropped the rifle on it. Glancing at the two sharp matchete lying among the tools on the table, he dragged the body of Joseph and began to take off the cloths of the dead man. And also his.

The three armed men continued in their discussion, oblivious of what had happened in one of the rooms that was converted into a torture chamber. One of the men, the brute the prisoner had earlier seen beating the frail woman was one of them. And he was telling his friends how he took his turn with the woman in the tent.

While they laughed, one of the armed men looked and saw a man in a military fatigue with a rifle slung on his shoulder approaching them. He also had matchetes on both hands. The rebel ignored the man and continued listening to the tale of rape. Then with a suspicious look on his face, he looked in the man’s direction again with a furrowed eyebrow. The man had gotten closer with a determined look on his face.

“It is the foreigner……”, the gunman squealed to his fellow comrades. But before any of the men could make any move, the matchetes started swinging at them

Severed limbs, heads, guts and pieces of human-being fell all over the place with blood spray painting the corridor as the man went at them, ferociously cutting down and chopping off anything within the range of his matchete bearing arms. And in a matter of seconds, the man left three mutilated bodies and severed limbs where the three gunmen were standing.

Michael coughed hard and rolled uncomfortable on the mat he laid with a groan. He opened his eyes and slowly moved his body to a sitting position. The room was quite hot and stuffy. The windows were sealed with thick planks. And the only way light and air got into the place was through the space inbetween the floor and the bottom of the metal door. But only enough to make anything barely visible and the air flowed in with a stench not of this world.

The white man in his mid thirties with a blonde hair coughed again and reached for the plastic water container lying beside the mat.

“Damn”, he cursed under his breath when he saw it was empty and coughed again. “Hey!, anyone there?……i need some water”, he croaked out.

No answer.

“Hello?”, he called out and still no answer. “Goddamit i need water you f@cking animals”, he bawled and threw the water container at the door.

Then almost immediately, a rattling sound followed by a metal clanking sound filled the room. The door opened. Michael shaded his eyes from the light that flooded into the room. He looked carefully and saw the figure of a man standing at the door. And the man seems to be holding something on both hands.

“I need water”, Michael said, this time with a calm tone of voice, fearing that he might have angered the man guarding the room.

Then the man left and came back a few seconds later dragging something into the room.

“Jesus!…….what the f@ck?!”, Michael gasped with fear when the man dropped the decapitated body beside the mat he was sitting on.

“Shhh……be quiet”, the man hushed him.

The white man stared at the headless corpse with horror. The sight seems to make his skin want to walk away from him.

“Michael Hendriks…….right?”, the man asked and looked at the white man. But he was still staring at the mutilated corpse that was bleeding.

“Hey……are you Michael Hendriks?”, the man asked again.

Michael turned his gaze at the man and said, “yeah…..i’m Michael Hendriks”, and looked at the bloodstained matchetes the man was wielding on both hands.

“Okay…….”, the man began and dropped the matchete he held on his right hand. “Your family requested for my services so am here to deliver it sir”, he said, extending the right hand to Michael.

Michael hesitated abit before taking the hand.

“Where are the others?”, he asked as the man helped him up to his feet.

“What do you mean?”.

“The Cavalry…….the rest of the rescue team?”.

“This is the rescue team sir”.

“What?!……you alone?”, Michael was flabbergasted. “What kind of a rescue operation is this?”, he asked.

“The best kind you will ever get sir”, the man answered rather indifferently. “Now follow me let me get you the hell out of here”

“And how do you intend to take out the rest of these guys alone?”, Michael asked as he followed the man to the door. “Those guys are…….”,

“I know that sir”, the man interrupted irritatedly and pointed the bloody matchete at the dead body. “Just to come here, i had to leave ten of them dead with their guts all over the place and making sure the rest didnt knowing what’s going on. It is by no means an easy feat…….and I’m in no mood for any interrogation. So let me get us the hell out of here before they start smelling something fishy.

“Wait!…What about all those women?”, Michael asked again

“None of my business”.

“Four of them had being killed since i got here”.

“Landmines killed more than twice that number in a village not very far from here”.

“So are you going to leave them to die in the hands of those brutes?

The man looked at Michael. “Sir, the order is to set you free”, he replied. “The service your family is paying for…….so please let’s……..”.

“I will pay you double……”, Michael interrupted. He stopped and grabbed the man’s shirt as they were about to exit the makeshift detention room. “I will pay you double to set all those women free……triple, if you do that and kill that motherfucker Jacques.

The man shook his head and dropped the other matchete. He unsling the AK-47 from his shoulder and cocked the rifle.

“Cannot happen sir”, the man murmured, holding the rifle in one hand and grabbing Michael’s arm with the other hand. “Too damn risky…….and not part of my mission. Now let’s go”, the man made an attempt to lead Michael through the empty corridor.

“F@ck your mission”, Michael retorted, trying to lower his voice. “If you are not doing it, then……”, he freed his arm from the man’s grip. “…….start considering the mission a failure because am going nowhere…….not with all those poor women suffering in the hands of those animals”, he continued.

The man stared at Michael surprisingly and was impressed by the humane heart the white man displayed. Especially being the one who wanted to get conflict diamonds from the leader of the so called animals. Only to be held hostage by Jacques because the white man happened to be a member of a royal family in Europe.

And Jacques had wanted to use it as a way to extort money from them. Or let the whole world know who is being held hostage in his camp through execution infront of a camera. The royal family, not wanting a situation that will tarnish their image, hired a private rescue team, the best in the continent to rescue their son. And they wanted it to be done quietly.

“How the hell do you expect me to do that?”, the man asked Michael. “This situation could get loud”.

“You figure it out yourself tough guy….”, Michael smiled. “You have already taken out ten guys……done silently. Am sure you can take out the rest”, then the white man stepped back into the room. “Oh one more thing…….make Jacques own to be very loud and nasty”, he concluded and gently closed the iron door.

The man stared at the door, murmuring, “Sir you are a son of a b!tch”.

“I heard that”.


“What the hell do you mean?”, Jacques barked into the mouthpiece of the satellite phone as he paced around in his makeshift office. “Your people sent a man…..not a woman. So what do you mean by you dont know what am talking about?”, he asked and listened to the rasping voice from the earpiece. “Of course he delivered the guns and ammo……and he came alone. What?, i should kill him immediately?……but i intend to get some infos…”

Suddenly, Jacques phone conversation got interrupted by one of his men who barged into the office wildly, sweating and panting hard.

“The prisoner has escaped!”, he gasped at his commander in french with spits flying from his mouth.

Jacques stared at the man with a baffled look and then turned to his bodyguards who had being with him in his office.

What are the two of you waiting for?!”, he bawled, startling the big guys. “Go find him!”, he barked and proceeded to pick up his weapon as the bodyguards left.

He dislodged the magazine from the pistol, inspected it before slapping it back in.

“Where the hell is Joseph?”, he asked the man who brought the bad news as he cocked the handgun.

“He…….he is dead….the doctor too”, the man stammered with a frightened look on face.

Jacques looked at the man surprisingly with his mouth open. He had never seen any of his men that frightened before. Whatever it is that made one of his toughest men to be that scared must be dreadfully serious.

“What about the men in that building?, he asked and got closer to the man who was visibly trembling. “The men i left to guard the prisoner and……the white man?”.

“Sir…..i….i can’t tell”, the man mumured with the frightened look on his face turning into a look of terror. Like he had seen the grim reaper.

Suddenly a loud explosion rented the air. Followed by the sounds of commotion. Jacques and the man rushed to the window of the room to see what was going on. Another explosion went off, making both men to duck down. Then followed the loud groans of wounded and dying men.

Jacques peered through the dusty glass of the window and saw the entire camp in chaos. With a huge conflagration in the place that used to be their fuel storage shack. He remember seeing about eight or nine of his men standing around there earlier. Now only charred bodies and burning men littered all over the place.

“Over there!”, the other man bark and pointed at an RPG wielding man standing on the roof of the other building.

The man looked in their direction and turned the rocket propeller at their position after giving them the middle finger.

“Get down!”, Jacques screamed and dived to the ground. Then a deafening explosion ripped through the room, knocking both men to the floor and sending shards of glasses and metals flying all over the place.

The man dropped the RPG and grabbed the general purpose machine gun that he had acquired from the dead man lying beside it. Putting it in position and aiming below at anything bearing arms and heading towards the building, he stroked the trigger and the automatic hammer started booting bullets.

The hurricane of slugs coming from the top of the building cut the gunmen down one by one. Some that took position and fired back had hand grenades tossed at them. They too got taken out. Those that succeeded in dodging the killing range of the GPMG, raced into the building and towards the stairs leading to the rooftop.

The man left the machine gun and headed toward the rooftop access door with the Automat Kalashnikov rifle in a ready-to-fire position. He could hear the stampede and bawling of the gunmen as he opened the door and descended the stairs.

Pausing at the corner, he peered into the corridor of the first floor and brought out a hand grenade as the feet stomping got louder. About a dozen gunmen were heading towards the corridor from the other end with alot of noise and gunfire.

Pulling out the safety pin from the grenade, the man gently placed it on the floor and made some timing as he listened to the sound of the feet stomping. Then he slided the grenade towards the other end of the corridor. Four gunmen appeared from the corner as the grenade reached it’s destination and stopped inbetween the legs of the gunman infront.

The rebel saw the deadly gift he just received and growled. He tried to make a U-turn to escape from a certain death. But it was too late for him. And also for the three other men right behind him.

A loud explosion erupted, killing three men instantly and severing the limbs of the fourth. Hearing the boom, the man emerged from the corner he was hiding and went at the rest with his gun barking; killing them with headshots and bullets to the chest. Then he took the gun fight outside to end more lives.


Jacques coughed and opened his eyes slowly. He saw himself in a sitting position with his head bending forward. His hands were firmly tied together behind him and his feet tied to the legs of the chair. The smell of gunpowder that still lingered in the air made him to exhale sharply. He raised his head slightly and saw something from the corner of his eyes.

Turning his gaze to see what it was, he saw four dead bodies; that of Joseph his second in command and the doctor lying dead on the floor. And his two bodyguards hanged by their neck. Jacques frozed as he stared at the corpses and then found out he was in the torture room after a few quick glances around the place.

“Did you enjoy your sleep?”.

Jacques heard the voice and immediately looked over his shoulder. He saw the man leaning on the table that had the doctor’s tools, rifle slung on his shoulder and drinking the Jack Daniels Jacques was having before hell broke loose in the camp.

“Hm……”, the man took a swill from the liquor bottle and grimaced as he read the label on it. “I wonder how this booze survived the terrible carnage that went down”, he glanced at Jacques and looked at the bottle again. “Well i guess there are alot of lucky shots in this bottle”, he continued and took another swill.

“Who are you?” Jacques groaned and coughed. “Who the hell are you?”, he asked again and bowed his head.

“The answer to that question depends on the type of relationship am having with the person asking”, the man began and placed the bottle on the table. “You see… some, i am their son, helper, rescuer…..or even a friend in need”, he continued as he slowly paced towards Jacques. “While to others, i am a problem,……

the last guy they wanna meet. But in your own case, i am the guy who killed all your men and had you tied up like an unwanted dog. So i guess the answer to your question is…….i am your worst nightmare”, the man concluded as he stood infront of Jacques and staring down at the rebel leader.

Jacques glanced at the dead bodies on floor again.

“They are all dead….”, the man said and looked at the corpses. “……it wasnt easy hanging those two and watch them die”, he pointed at the two dead guards. “But it worth the effort because it made me two million dollars richer……and you my friend…”, he murmured and tapped Jacques on his shoulder. “… gonna make me even more richer”.

“Please……let me go”, Jacques gasped. “I will pay you…..alot of money…….ten or even twenty times more……please”, he begged.

“Oh you mean you will give me this?”, the man dipped his hand inside his pocket. He took it out and showed Jacques a small glassy object.

Jacques saw it and sighed with a bitter look in his face.

“Well the diamonds had changed hands”, the man smiled. “So i dont think you have anything else to offer. Even if you have, i will still kill you anyway”.

Then the man went over to the door and opened it. Six women stepped into the room and stared at Jacques intently. They are some of the women that were being held captive in the camp.

“These women are the selected few from all those women you and your men had been holding hostage”, the man said and placed his hands on the shoulders of one of the women. And she seems to enjoy having the hands that slayed her tormentors on her shoulders. “This one is a nurse…..and the rest have some certain skills that have to do with the human body”, then he looked at Jacques with a smile. “They all want to have a few words with you”, he concluded.

The man looked at the woman and nodded. She nodded back with a smile and then looked at Jacques with a cold determined look on her face. The other women are now checking the doctor’s tools on the table and smiling delightfully.

“I will see you in hell”, Jacques muttered in french as the man headed towards the door.

The man paused and looked over his shoulder. “If you hear that am on my way to hell, you better tell the devil to hide you where i wont find you”, he replied in french and walked out of the room.

As he left the room and walked through the corridor , he could hear Jacques loud agonizing scream.


“So…..”, the man took the mini mobile tablet that was hidden in one of the box of ammo and handed it to Michael. “Access your bank account and transfer the money to the account number on the top corner of the screen”.

Michael took the electronic device and started making the transaction. Then the man gently felt the cut on his lower lip and looked at the women climbing into the back of one of the trucks.

“I hope you know your way to the U.N camp?”, he asked and looked at Michael.

“Yep……”, Michael replied after making the transfer and handed the device back to the man. “Six million dollars into your account… better spend the money fast because guys like you don’t live that long”, he smiled.

“Well i think they will disagree with you on that”, the man said and pointed at the dead bodies lying all over the place. Then he looked at the transaction made and gave a faint smile.

“Now tell me…..”, Michael began and looked at the man from head to toe. “Who the hell are you?……”, he asked. “Ex British intelligence?, ex navy seal?, Mossad?…..russian hit team?…….perhaps a trained psycho killer who has zero regard for his mortality”.

The last sentence made the man smirk. “Why do you wanna know?”, he asked.

“Just take a look at this sh!t”, Michael said and waved his hand at the destruction and dead bodies in the camp. “What level of insanity would make a man wanna do this alone?, and even seem to be very good at it?”, he asked.

“It is called annihilation…..mankind have been using it on each other since the beginning of time”.

“Yeah…..with records of one man single handedly taking out a village of berserkers.

The man shook his head with a sigh and then said, “Sir just drive those women safely to the U.N camp. Go be the glory boy for saving them”. Then he started heading towards Jacques’ Mercedes benz.

“Atleast tell me your name”, Michael said as the man opened the car door.

The man looked over his shoulder. And said, “Do you really wanna know?”


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5 months ago

Next pls 🗣️