he didn’t see me. He kept yelling.
“Come on dude, what do you want.”
“Just don’t kill me please.”
I never got to answer him. So I had knocked him out. He used to be there every time I picked up items for delivery. Meaning that, if I spoke he would have recognized my voice. I put up a few other proves that he had been involved, though I knew the CIA would soon figure it out. People say, at times you feel some kind of conviction for example not to do whatever I was about to. In my case, all of me was there. My conscience supported it that whole time.
That night, I torched that warehouse, and with it millions of dollars burned down. A week later I was on the run all around the country trying to find a refuge. I can say, the CID are the only people who almost broke the record, but they didn’t. I agree I wasn’t the smartest person on planet, but I found a way back to Brixton. Where, I knew was the last place they could looking for me. This is because the last place of contact had been Las Vegas, Nevada. Thus, to them I was still on the run.
In Brixton it didn’t feel secure roaming across the streets. So the last place I had decided to hide at Jason’s cabin. I knocked gently on the door.
“Spencer, what the hell are you doing here?” he had asked the moment he recognized me.
“Dude, am here to hide you already know that.” I had answered.
I dint want to attract attention from the passersby, so I pushed him in and closed the door behind me. He stepped back and then relaxed looking straight at me.
“Yeah, and you think this is the safest place?”
“No of course, just for a day or two.”
“Men, I don’t think so, you have got to leave.”
“No am not living, make a call if you want to.”
Sometimes giving people an impossible option during an argument is an easier way to win. Judging from the look on his face, I could tell he wouldn’t do it.
“Then what?”
“Relax.” I concluded as I rushed to his kitchen to grub something for my grumbling stomach.
That night he didn’t feel comfortable even for a second, but I couldn’t help it. I had chosen my path and he was on it. So, why not move on? I had thought.
Chapter seven
Since that day, I became the most wanted man by the CIA. Tell you what, I was a ghost. If they had any hope of catching up with me it would be after a long time. Furthermore, I had nothing to lose. For the next two years a series of events followed. Some small others major
Those days, I had assembled a perfect team for myself. So a lot happened in between. Just a few events here and there, without my consent. Running a gang of criminal masterminds, wasn’t so easy. But I was the king and the king had to be honored.
We broke into banks and stole every penny. At times. Kidnap, hijack and a few illegal business here and there in the deep web. I keep thinking if the judge had put into consideration every crime I had committed, I guess it would be worth hanging me at the Central Business District. But instead, here I am in Code Seven, Still holding on to hope of freedom.
Choices are what every human being has got to make a difference. In fact, time is such a valuable factor that equals nothing, not even freedom. Looking at it, I had the chance to change for the better. But, instead I had held on to the fact that, being a monster was who I was meant to be. You know why? Because I had lots of chances, till I lost everything and everyone I valued in my life. The first one had been an accident, and now I know I could have lived with it. I hear someone whispers. I think jay is back.
“Hey dude are you okay.”
“Ever better bro”
“What happened, you could just have let them win.”
“No men I think they want my balls.”
“What! Did they tell you that?”
“Yeah, men they took one from the dude next to me.”
“You mean the deaf guy.”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know what to do, they want mine by morning, both.”
“That’s crazy.”
“And he said you are next.”
(Silence)
The end
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