Might's Odyssey (The Event Book 2) (7 page)

Gbenga’s eyes were cold and hard as he sat in the back of the black Range Rover sport SUV. His driver sensing his mood remained silent, carefully navigating his way through the busy Victoria Island streets. He was headed to Akintunde towers, the headquarters of Akintunde investment and consulting; the conglomerate that was his business empire.

His company was into everything. Shipping, real estate, oil, banking, import and export and just recently they acquired the rights for power and electricity distribution.

Business as they say was booming. That fact would have filled him with great satisfaction and pleasure a couple of months ago. Now however, he felt strangely irritated by it. This was because it kept him distracted, unable to focus on what was truly important which was the event coming later on in the year.

Having billions in your bank account seemed more than a little pointless when the world was going to end in less than six months. He would do better to give his fortune away. He discarded that thought almost as soon as it came. He could not do that, at least not now. He needed the money to make preparations.

His driver made a hard right shaking him so much that he snapped out of his thoughts. Looking up, he was surprised to see the twenty-story high-rise that made Akintunde towers looming over the car. It was a greenish black monolith standing tall in the business district, towering over the other buildings.

A faint smile lifted the corners of his lips as he looked at it. He remembered when he had built it. He acquired the property, broke it down and built his dream tower. A business palace fit for a brooding king. He had been more than a little egotistical at the time. Coming from a poor background, he worked his way to riches through sweat, ruthlessness and blood.

His mantra then had been ‘I am gonna show them.’ ‘They felt I could not make it, I am gonna rub their faces in it.’ And made it he had. The smile slowly faded when he remembered the dozens of rejections, the sharp and disgusted comments and last but not least, the insulting women.

One woman especially; Susan Bello. Oh how he loved her then. Or at least he thought he did. It was ages ago. Things tended to go blurry over the years. Back then, he had been in the unemployment market for almost seven years after graduation, he was broke and without a dime. Even now as he thought about it, he could not stop a slight ache from racing through his heart.

The memories of those days always made him sad and morose. A wise man once said that a poor man has no voice. It made no sense to him at the time he heard it, but after Susan’s rejection, it became all he thought about.

When you tried all you could, doing everything you knew how to do, so you could prosper and you remained in the same spot, it was only natural you began to feel that you were cursed.

He remembered running to the church. Joining a service unit, going for weekly prayers, evangelism and what have you. Just so that the man upstairs would notice him and perhaps bestow his favor upon him; but of course, as with all things about the Lord Almighty, he took his sweet time about it.

It was in church he met Susan. She was a chorister, a dark ebony beauty, with lips and eyes that bewitched. Around her, he felt like he had all thumbs, and six feet. His mouth clammed up and sweat streamed down his body.

Sometimes she looked at him with an almost hungry look. As if she felt what he felt. Those smoldering looks made him reach for what he should not have reached for. His desire for her made him forget three important facts. One he was broke, two he was broke and three he was broke.

He did not know how it was in most places, but in Nigeria, if you did not have a job, a car and a nice apartment, no woman worth her salt would touch you. You were a pariah, one of the pitiful few who according to popular opinion were destined not to succeed.

Fool that he was he tried his luck, not realizing he was competing with another who had all the trappings of success. A car, a nice apartment, a good job and the makings of a future so bright that it blinded you just to look at it.

Of course, she chose the other person leaving him in the rut. He smiled as he remembered her rejecting his calls. Back then, he was a nobody! A foolish fool, a reject; one of the forgotten ones that had nothing going for him.

The irony of it was, barely six months after she married her successful suitor, he became a multi billionaire with assets and cash between sixteen and seventeen billion naira. How it happened he did not know. In retrospect, he realized God had probably loved the heck out of him since he was born.

He ran into Seyi three months before he hit it big and the rest they say is history. The high-rise in front of the range rover reminded him how far he had come and how much God had done for him. That thought made him feel unworthy of the good Lord’s blessings.

The driver made a left, heading for the underground parking lot beneath the building. A dark shadow covered the Range Rover as they drove into the cool gloom of the parking lot.

There were two dozen cars parked in long lines on either side. His driver drove straight ahead, heading for the space at the opposite end which had the words ‘Reserved for the CEO’ written on the overhanging slab of concrete over his parking space. The range Rover cruised into it, pulling to a halt an inch from the curb.

Stepping out, Gbenga took his cane and hobbled to the elevator door several feet away. He left the car door open for the driver to bring his briefcase and the other files into the office.

The elevator doors slid open as he approached. He stepped into the air-conditioned interior and pushed the button marked pent-house. His driver barely made it in before the elevator doors slammed closed.

With a slight dip, it raced upwards. The silence in the elevator was loud but not uncomfortable. A beep came a second later and a female voice spoke into its quiet confines.

“Good morning sir. Hope you slept well?”

A wan smile widened Gbenga’s mouth.

“I am fine Titi. Hope you slept well too?”

Her sexy chuckle rippled through the elevator.

“I did sir__” There was a pause and then__

“Mr. Bernard is here to see you.”

Gbenga’s face grew serious. “He is here? He doesn’t ever come here.” His voice became low, fading away slowly. From the look on his face, the driver got the sense that he didn’t realize he had said the last bit aloud.

The elevator dinged as it stopped. Its doors slid open slowly revealing a wide corridor with expensive mahogany paneling on the wall and thick wood-grained ceilings. A plush green carpet covered its entire length and three crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling.

There was a door on the far left. Gbenga took a deep breath and hobbled to it. It opened as he reached it and Titi his very beautiful secretary/personal assistant stood in the doorway. Her navy blue skirt suit hugged her picture perfect figure, showing all the curves. The driver sighed when he saw her, as he always did. Gbenga was tempted to smile when he heard his longing sigh.

She stepped aside to let him pass and he walked into his office. His eyes hardened when they settled on the big burly man seated on the large maroon couch on his left.

“Bernard___” He growled as the man stood up smoothening his slightly rumpled grey suit. He held out his arm for a handshake but Gbenga ignored it.

“You know I said you should never come here. Or did you forget?”

“I didn’t forget Gbenga. Its just__”

“What Bernard? What?” Gbenga snapped.

“We’ve run into some problems.”

“What problems?”

“The local government is breathing down on us. The estate owners are threatening to sue. They say we have no right to alter the property. The city council and town planning people came to halt work on the site.”

“When?”

“This morning. The supervisor called after you left. I have not gotten to your house today.”

Gbenga’s eyes blazed with anger, drifting briefly to the driver who placed his briefcase and papers on the second sofa on the right. Limping forward, he slid behind his desk and picked up the telephone. He punched in a number and waited.

It was picked up after the fourth ring. A warm cheery voice filled his ear.

“Ahhh Gbenga! How good to hear from you again.”

“Good to hear your voice too commissioner.”

“So to what do I owe the honor of Mr. Akintunde’s call this early in the morning?”

“Well commissioner I need your help with something. I am making some alterations on my property and I am having problems with the town planning and city council people. Since you are the commissioner of lands and housing, I thought you might be able to get them off my back.”

“What sort of alterations are you making on the property?”

“I am building a sort of cellar beneath the house. Well not exactly a cellar. It is a cellar/relaxation spot for my friends and I. I entertain quite a bit you see and my wife keeps complaining about the racket we make. So I decided to enlarge my property.”

“Hmnnnn___ I need to see the contract agreement of the house. The agreement you signed with the estate agent who sold it to you.”

“That won’t be a problem. I will fax a copy to you immediately.”

“Ok please do__ I will make some calls and get back to you.”

“Thank you very much commissioner. Let me know as soon as you sort it out.”

“Ok Gbenga__ will talk to you soon.”

Gbenga ended the call and waited a few moments deep in thought. He noticed Titi hurried out of the room, to send the fax no doubt. Raising the phone to his ear again, he quickly dialed another number.

It rang twice before it was picked and a gruff voice filled his ear.

“Yes?”

“Hi Governor, this is Akintunde.”

“Gbenga my boy__ so nice to hear from you. How are things with you and your wife?”

“Fine, fine Kolade__ things couldn’t be better.” A sardonic voice in his heard immediately piped up as soon as he finished speaking saying the words___

‘You kidding right?’

Shaking his head slightly to clear it, he tried to focus on what the Governor was saying.

“Hope you are fully recovered from your accident? From what I heard, you are very lucky to be alive.”

“Almost completely recovered Governor. Thanks for asking.”

“Heard the S Class was completely totaled; must have been some accident. It takes quite a bit of effort to total those machines am told.”

“Yeah__” Gbenga said slowly__ without elaborating. Talking about the safety and efficiency of an S Class Mercedes Benz wasn’t the reason he called.

Seeming to sense his impatience, the governor continued slowly.

“How can I help you Gbenga?”

Sighing Gbenga quickly repeated what he had told the commissioner earlier. A long silence followed when he was done speaking. The silence stretched on for so long that for a second Gbenga was afraid the connection had cut.

“Hmmn….. have you spoken to the commissioner for lands and housing?”

“Yes I have. He promised to look into it. I wanted to inform you as well, just in case there is anyway to expedite the process. You know how QUICKLY the arm of government moves? And I need this done for me ASAP.”

“Ok Gbenga! I will see what I can do speed up the process.” The Governor replied chuckling.

“You are up for reelection at the end of the year aren’t you?”

“Yes I am__”

“I am willing to offer you considerable financial support if you see that this is done as soon as possible. You know am good for it.”

“Of course I know do__” The governor gushed with a loud chuckle. A cynical smile lifted the corners of Gbenga’s lips when he heard the excitement in his voice. He shook his head slowly. The only word any Nigerian politician understood was money. They gave great promises, but delivered little or nothing to the people they ruled. He was lucky in one respect; he had the means to make them move.

“I will get on it right away.”

“See that you do governor__ much obliged.”

He hung up some seconds later turning to face Bernard who still stood in his office, a few feet away from his desk.

“It will be sorted out immediately Bernard. Go back to the house and watch over things for me. You will be given the go ahead to continue working in the next couple of hours.”

“Yes sir__” Bernard said turning to go.

“And Bernard__”

He stopped, facing Gbenga.

“Don’t come to my office again you hear? I don’t want anyone to know what I am trying to build. Your presence here could spark off some uncomfortable questions. Is that understood?”

Bernard nodded slowly and quickly exited the room with Titi his personal assistant following and closing the door firmly behind them. He frowned surprised. He didn’t notice her coming back into his office.

Leaning back in his chair, he closed his eyes. Things were still moving according to plan. If only Might could come out of that coma, all would be well.

His eyes drifted to the phone on his desk. He toyed with the idea of calling the hospital to inquire about Might eventually discarding the idea. If there had been any change, the hospital would have informed him. Sighing again, he looked up at the wall in front of him.

A forty-inch LG television hung on the wall. It was on and tuned to BBC. There was a breaking news headline. The remote control for the DSTV decoder lay on his desk. He picked it and raised the volume.

Gerald Summers had finished his tour of North Africa. His engineered maize seeds are doing much better than hoped. This is another coup for the great Gerald Summers. World hunger, which has dropped about eighty percent in the last two years, is likely to drop more in the coming months in light of the success of these engineered crops.

His next stop is the United Kingdom. He will be giving a lecture in Kent in about a week’s time at the University of Surrey. No one knows what his travel plans will be after that. This is Ron Davis signing off from Tunisia.

Gbenga’s eyes hardened when he saw the wide grin on Gerald Summers face. A flood of bitter hatred surged on his insides. The strange thing was it vanished a couple of seconds after it came. There was no need to hate the man. He probably did not realize what he was doing.

With that thought came others. Perhaps if someone warned him of the dangers his actions were bringing, he would put a stop to his plans. Excitement started to build as he dwelled on this. Maybe he could stop the event before it began.

If he could get the man to listen to him that is. He had no proof that what he claimed was going to happen would happen. Only a coma induced dream. The look on his face grew pensive.

Scientists always sought for proof and evidence before all else. None of them were interested in hearsay, psychic feelings or dreams. If it could not be proved then it did not exist.

His eyes hardened. He could not let that stop him from trying. He would attend his lecture in surrey. If he was lucky, he could get him alone. Then he could plead with him not to release his big discovery in December. With any luck, the man would believe and hear him out. 

His mind made up, he picked up the telephone and started to make the arrangements.