SHADOWCORP written by kayemjay
ShadowCorp Is Back.
This is the Sequel to “The Complete Assassin”.
Steven is determined to take down the corporation that ruined his life. Sensei Magnum has rebranded and refortified the Dome, making it impossible to penetrate.
Against all odds, Steven must find a way to infiltrate the corporation or risk losing everyone he ever loved.
Episode 1
It was dark and chilly. The heavy downpour of rain had reduced to a mild drizzle. The wharf was deserted and the only sound that could be heard was the slow but steady hum of the generator that powered the docks. it was 2am and there wasn’t a single soul in sight. The flood lights that doubled as motion detectors scanned the entire perimeter at random intervals. The wharf was a mini loading station for cargo to be distributed inter-state. For those who could afford it, the shipping containers also served as storage for personal effects. Surrounding the wharf was high a fence capped by electric wiring. Security personnel was however lax at this period. The wharf in itself had intimidating fencing and the gates were impenetrable. Any attempt to tamper with the gates without using the electronic access card would trigger an alarm that would send the police storming in within seconds. The wharf seemed impenetrable so vandals rarely came around.
A black van parked few blocks away from the wharf, hidden in plain sight. It had two blown tires and the bonnet was a write off. There had been an accident on the access road to the wharf five days earlier and the van had come off worse. It was all part of the plan. The van was parked over a sewer tunnel in the ground. It was through that tunnel that a young lady in her late twenties repeatedly gained access to the van and carried out routine surveillance of the wharf. They had been planning the break in for a fortnight and the time had come to finally go ahead with the mission.
The sewer cover opened and the lady pulled herself up from the tunnel and into the hole that had been created at the bottom of the van. She got on the van and settled into the only swivel chair inside the van. She had done this for six consecutive days so it had become more of routine for her than a mission. However, this night was different. The adrenaline pumped in her blood and she could feel her heart beat increasing. After days of planning, strategizing and detailing, the day had finally arrived. She took off the sling bag across her shoulder and extracted a nine inch tablet. She unlocked the device and a plush screen came on. Using the app, she monitored the cameras in the wharf that had already been hacked into on the first night of the mission. She scanned the entry and exit points of the wharf, looking for activity. As expected, there were none. One more thing remained. She had to ascertain the status of the asset. She accessed the footage of one of the cameras attached to a particular shipping container. Taking the camera recording back to 21:00hrs, she played the footage. Nothing happened at first. The footage showed just the container and the darkness with the rain pelting down. Then she played the recording in fast forward. At exactly, 21:05 a car drove by the container parking just beside it. Three men got out of the car leaving the driver inside. It was obvious only one of them was in charge. He was about six feet tall, clean shaven and wore a mafia suit complete with a black sheriff hat. The other two men were his bodyguards, one of whom was holding an umbrella over his head. They walked to the container labelled YRD121 and the man in mafia suit banged the container twice. The container door opened and he walked in with one of the guards, while the other stood watch by the door. After a few seconds, the ultrasonic sensors integrated in the cameras picked up voices.
“Hello mate. God knows how much I hate to come here. You keep making me come here all the time. Damn you are proving to be a pain in the as5, mister. Newsflash! By this time tomorrow those people you are hell bent on protecting will be the ones mourning your death. However, if you cooperate and tell us where to find the other members of your team, I promise to let you off the hook with huge benefits. Tell us your real name and where to find the other members of your team.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about please. My name is Raymond Onuoha. I am a photographer for the Daily..” a feeble voice replied.
“Hmmm…Raymond. Think about this real hard. You can lose everything or you can have all you ever wanted including our protection. Just stop the games and come clean.” The first voice said cutting him off.
“Please, I am not who you think I am. I am begging you. I don’t know what you are talking about” The feeble voice said again.
“We will see about that. Tape him and prepare him for transport” The first voice said.
There was a punch, a yelp and then silence. The men got out of the container, entered the car and drove away from the wharf.
She put a finger in her left ear.
“Alpha one, this is Omega. The skies are blue and the mission is a go. Permission to proceed?” she said.
She waited for a few seconds and then a reply came in from the other end of the line.
“Copy that Omega. Mission is a go. I repeat mission is a go. Bring Geronimo home. Good luck.”
“Roger that Alpha one. Rendezvous at the Tower at 03:00. Over and out.”
The lady took her finger from her ears and brought out a mask from the sling bag. She put off the tablet, and set her stop watch for one hour. Wearing the mask, she got out of the van and headed for the wharf.
TWO WEEKS EARLIER…
The political atmosphere of the country was tense and everyone could feel the pressure in the air. The two major candidates vying for the right to the Aso Rock Villa had supporters who were ready to die for the one they believed in. Even when they knew only one could have it. The Electoral body of the country had postponed the elections to a yet to be announced date and this had sparked different kinds of reactions from both camps. The country was virtually sitting on gun powder. However, this did not stop the operations of ShadowCorp. Acting as a non-existent assassination organization, they took no sides and had no friends. They only had business partners and shared interests. If the money and conditions were right, they accepted the contract. If the contract fails to appeal to them, the delivery man would be killed instantly. That was how ruthless ShadowCorp was. They left no trace, they left no emblems. Heck, they do not even exist. So if you wanted ShadowCorp to handle a contract, you had better have a damn good referral and an enticing package.
Mr Raymond Onuoha parked his car in front of Peace Hotels and Suites Ogba, Lagos. He had received an anonymous text message with an unknown number. The text contained just the address where had driven to that fateful afternoon. He had been digging into a hunch he had about ShadowCorp for a while now, begging his contacts, flexing his journalist muscles. He had almost given up when by sheer luck he had stumbled on information linking him to how he could get a meeting. And in just two days, he had gotten an address to the most sought after meeting of his career. To say that he was excited was an understatement. Armed to the teeth with his recorder, pen and secret panic button, he walked into the hotel determined to get the news that would make headlines for months to come.
He got to the reception and asked the pretty lady behind the desk for direction to the BlackJack suite. He attempted to flirt with the lady, promising to get her number on his way out. She flirted with him in return, encouraging his moves. Immediately he got out of sight, she picked the intercom a placed a call to the BlackJack suite.
“Hello, BlackJack suite.” came a feminine voice from the other end of the line.
The receptionist did not say a word. She counted the seconds on her wrist watch while keeping the receiver on her ear. After exactly five seconds she dropped the call without uttering a single word. Her job there had been done. Immediately, she packed her bag and got out of the hotel. As she exited the premises, the gateman handed her an envelope. She weighed the contents as she closed the gate behind her. It was a lot of money for just a phone call. Her conscience began to prick her but she waved the feeling aside. She needed the money and she had not killed anybody. She stopped a taxi and got in.
Mr. Raymond pressed the doorbell when he got to the suite. The door opened and a young man ushered him into the sitting room. He was well dressed and spoke with a British accent. Raymond was impressed. He looked around the room and was impressed by the furnishing and décor. He was still absorbing the grandeur of the suite when the young man spoke.
“We have been expecting you sir. My employers would be with you shortly. Would you like to have a drink sir?”
“Yes, please. Water is fine.”
The young man returned a few minutes later with a very cold plastic bottle. Raymond collected the bottle and drained the content in a few gulps. He could not wait to finally capture and record the story of his career. The young man excused himself, leaving Raymond to further enjoy the view in the suite. After a while Raymond began to feel funny. He could not move his limbs. Gradually he could not move any part of his body. He was stiffening but still very much alive. He wondered what was happening to him. He had been drugged. He tried to open his mouth to scream for help but his lips would not give way. His pupils darted to and fro. As his eyes closed he saw two figures approach him. He could not make out their faces but could hear every single word.
Someone had bent over his face. He could feel the person’s breath over his neck.
“Hello Mr Raymond. Don’t be afraid. Just relax and stop fighting. We added a little something to the water. Vecuronium bromide. It will help us search you without any…restraints from you. Welcome to ShadowCorp.”
To be Continued …
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