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“Hello Detective Johnson,” a female voice sounded on the other end as soon as Detective Johnson picked the phone call from a hidden number.

He is sitting in his rented car opposite the entrance of G.S. Tech Corp and going through the documents and listening to the media files that was just delivered to him.

At first, he was skeptical and thought it was just the suspect trying to get off the hook but the evidence especially the ones against G.S. Tech Corp had a level of substantiality, he had already contacted the headquarters and sent them his findings and an official report on his current progress.

“Hello, how can I help you?” he asked with a surprised look on his face; for someone to call him on the new phone line he bought as soon as he got to Dubai was enough to surprise him and worse still called him his name,

“My name is Agent Amarachi Bradley from the Counter Terrorist Agency of Nigeria,”

“Never heard of that before,” he said nonchalantly,

“You just have. We have some evidences that prove that Mr. Derek is innocent and that there are some incongruous experiments going on at G.S. Tech Corp of which you are aware of detective,” she paused,

Detective Johnson remained silent, he was trying to track the call with his computer system and he needed to buy some time.

“Detective Johnson, are you tracking this call?” the female voice said from the other end and he was taken aback,

“You would do the same if you were in my shoes,” he finally said, his fingers hovering slightly over the keyboard. He was still monitoring the corporation’s building closely; activity has increased and heavy trucks seem to be moving out more often than before.

“There is no time for that detective. We need to bust G.S. Tech Corp together, what do you think?”

“Those were not my orders and I’m not ready to take any from you ma’am. I’m here to arrest Mr. Derek Oscar for his crimes and return the stolen items to the authorities and not to team up with some kind of agency that badly wants to bust a corporation. If there’s no other thing you’ve got to say, then I have to end this call,” Detective Johnson said,

“Don’t be ridiculous Detective Johnson, a corporation that is involved in a crime is evacuating tangible evidence right before you and you just sit inside your car with a bottle of water and a computer, that’s not how to fight crime. We need your help to arrest whoever is behind G.S. Tech,”

“And why should I arrest them?” he asked,

“Because they have exactly what you’ve been looking for,” Agent Amara said and ended the call.


Derek pulled down the visor of the helmet as he added more power to the red and black Lazareth LM 847 tilting 4-wheel motorcycle; with a 4.7 liter Maseriti V8 engine, four single-sided swing arms, rim-mounted brakes, a dual hub-center steering and an insane 470 horsepower, the bike was a wonder and certainly a head-turner.

He had borrowed the super cool bike and a licensed Bul M5 ‘Ultimate Racer’ pistol from Kazeem and had promised to return them in good shape but he doubted himself on that.

The whole event had taken him by surprise and had felt like a movie to him but he was about to end it right then, once and for all. He was heading for the G.S. Corp headquarters, he was sure that they had those items he had been accused of stealing from some Iron Mountain he had never heard of or seen before then.

The whole episode had all the signs of a setup; he wondered why the corporation would want to set him up and he still doubted Mr. Ahmed Mohammed had a hand in it – you can never trust most of these Arabs but he just had to find out. He slowed down a bit as he neared a traffic light;

“Oh my God! A checkpoint, not again,” Derek cursed under his breath, he tried to reverse the bike but the cars beside him barely gave him space and besides he could see the more cops coming in from behind; he was trapped.

Two of the cops were coming towards his direction, his heart was beating faster and he did the only thing that came to his mind.

He could hear people shouting as he zapped through the tiniest space between the cluster of vehicles; what he was doing reminded him of the okada riders back home in Nigeria as they passed through the tiniest space between cars with their noisy motorcycle engines.

“Sorry! My bad, I suppose you guys have insurance,” he muttered under his breath as he knocked off a couple of side mirrors before coming out of the traffic. He could hear the police sirens behind him but with a 470 horsepower engine, the Dubai police force had little chance of catching up with him even with the supercars they make use of.

“Change of plans,” he said to himself and slowed down the bike a bit; his plan now was to attract the police to G.S. Tech Corp since Amara had informed him that they had begun the raid with Detective Johnson, he would just keep in sight of them till he gets there.

“Welcome to the party,” he said and smiled before revving up the engine of the power bike.

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