It was just past midnight as three black cars turned onto Adeneran Ogunsaya Avenue and drove down the empty road. The popular banking and shopping Avenue was well lit but completely deserted at that hour when business was shut tight and everyone was home, asleep.
About halfway down the Avenue, the cars turned smoothly onto one of the numerous side streets that led off into posh residential neighborhoods lying beyond the avenue.
The street was Gbanjumo crescent and it had about thirty private bungalows on its main lane. The houses lined both sides of the road, most of them fenced off completely by high walls and gates, some had iron bar gates while others were open to the street.
The street was dark in place but well like in others, No one was about and all was dead quiet.
The three sleek cars, a black Mercedes and two new model Toyota Camry cars, drove down the Gbangumo crescent until they were close to the end of the street. A dead end.
The three cars, two Toyota cars in the lead, stopped right in the middle of the dark street, their headlamp went out and their soundless engines blended in with the silent night as did their black color. Nothing happened for several seconds and then the doors of the two Toyota cars began to jerk open and big men in dark business suits were getting out.
The Mercedes parked behind them stayed quiet.
The men were ten in number, all armed with long-nosed rifles or pistols –perfectly silenced weapons. Four stood guard on the street while the rest moved to the gates of the house in front of which they were parked. The house had the number 25 written on a plaque by its gates and the compound beyond was brightly light.
The gates of the house were locked tight at that hour but one of the men put his gloved hands in through the iron bar top, took hold of the steel padlock inside and carefully emptied the contents of a tube-bottle he had on it.
Within a minute, the corrosive liquid melted the steel padlock easily and the man pulled it free. He pulled back the bolt on the inside of the gate, pushed it inwards and went in. Five men followed him in leaving the rest standing guard in different positions on the street.
Nothing happened for a few minutes as all was dead quiet on the street. The front door of the Mercedes suddenly jerked open and a big powerfully built man in a dark business suit jumped out. He got the rare door open at once and a tall beautiful woman got out. She was dressed in dark jeans, blouse, and high boots, long hair falling down around her shoulders.
The woman walked quickly over to the gates of the house and the man followed closed. They disappeared into the brightly lit compound and the gates closed behind them.
Mr. Fabian Ibe was fast asleep in bed with his wife beside him when rough hands shook him awake.
Opening his eyes, he was shocked to see armed men in his bedroom. His wife came awake too and her scream of terror was abruptly cut off as one of the men shoved his rifle threateningly at her.
The sleep gone from him, Fabian saw at once that there were three of the men in the bedroom and they did not look like ordinary armed robbers at all.
“Please,” said Fabian in a trembling voice, his heart beating fast, the sleep all gone. “What do you want?”
One of the men moved his head. “You and your wife, get in the living room, now!”
Fabian obeyed at once. He pulled his terrified wife with him as he climbed out of the bed and they moved towards the door. When they went through into the living room beyond, Fabian was shocked to see his four children already there with more armed men. The children were huddled together to one side of the room and the armed men stood over them. They looked terrified and were crying quietly. His wife instantly tried to go to them but was blocked by one of the armed men escorting them.
“Go there and kneel down, both of you, move it,” ordered one of the men sharply, waving his gun towards the middle of the room.
Fabian and his, now hysterical, wife obeyed. They moved to the middle of the room and knelt down together. His wife clung desperately to Fabian for protection, weeping in her terror.
The front door abruptly opened and a lovely young woman walked in, a big man in a dark suit with her.
Fabian’s eyes went to the woman at once, her face. She looked familiar, too familiar but he could place it.
“Emily!” cried his wife in a shocked voice.
Fabian suddenly recognized the woman. She was older now, no longer the teenage girl he had known and treated as he pleased. His blood went cold as he saw the terrible look in her eyes and he knew the time had come for him to pay for his past crimes.
Helen came into the room and stood looking at the man and woman kneeling before her. Her eyes went to the frightened children and she recognized two of them. A tender feeling crept into her heart but she shook it off at once and looked back at the kneeling couple.
The woman was weeping with desperation and terror now and the man was trembling with fear. They both know how cruel they had been to the young girl who had lived with them for two years until she ran away ten years ago.
“Please, Emily, have mercy,” said the man in a shaky voice.
The expression on Helen’s lovely face hardened even more. “Firstly, uncle, my name is not Emily anymore. Secondly, mercy is the last thing you should ask or expect of me right now. Not after everything you did to me,”
“Please,” said the man in desperation with his hands together and held up in plea. “I apologize with all my heart. Please, forgive me. it was the devil’s work.”
Helen smiled mirthlessly. “You took advantage of an orphan, time and again. Threatened my life if I told anyone the things you did and then when you wicked wife found out you lied that it was me trying to seduce, and then watched as she attacks me with a kitchen knife!” Helen nodded. “Yes, I believe you. It’s the devil’s work, what you and your wife did to a defenseless orphan who happened to be your only dead brother’s child. Now watch the devil do a better job of things with your own children.”
Fabian’s heart stopped even as his wife’s screams filled the room. There was a muffled shot and his wife’s screams were cut off at once as she dropped lifelessly face down on the floor next to him, the blood spreading out rapidly in a pool around her head.
Numb with shock, Fabian looked up to see his niece move the smoking long-nosed gun she held over to him and its muzzle flashed in his face.
The first bullet took him in the face and he fell backward onto the tiled floor. The second bullet took him in the stomach and a third and fourth took him in the groin.
Helen fired three more times before she stopped and lowered the gun. She stared at the corpse a moment then sighed heavily and handed the gun back to her bodyguard standing next to her. As she turned away and started for the front door, the sound of a baby crying came from the bedroom.
Helen stopped and turned to look across the room at the open door to the bedroom.
“We didn’t see it.” said one of the men standing in the room. He was a good-looking, powerfully built, dark man of about thirty-five, the one in direct charge of the men. His name was Hector the number two enforcer of the Black Axe crime family.
Helen stared at him, her lovely eyes hard. “Don’t ever make such mistakes with me next time, do you understand?”
Hector nodded. “Yes, Miss.”
“Have the child carried out and left in a safe corner of the compound before you burn the house, we don’t kill babies.”
Hector nodded again. “As you wish, Miss,”
Helen turned and walked off towards the front door, her personal bodyguard, James, following closely. He moved ahead quickly ahead and got the door open for her then followed as she went out into the brightly lit compound. They walked over to the gates and out into the dark street.
All was perfectly still and dead quiet out on the street. The men on guard were fully alert and ready for trouble. The three black cars almost invincible in the darkness had turned to face the way they had come, ready for a rapid departure.
Helen walked over to the Mercedes and her bodyguard was there to open the back door for her. The car’s engine came silently to life as she got into the owner’s seat. The bodyguard jumped into the front seat and the car drove off into the night.
Minutes later, as the other men drove away in the two Toyota cars, thick clouds of smoke could be seen rising rapidly from the house.
The house was on fire.
It was about two o’clock in the early hours of the morning but Madam T was still awake. Wearing a red nightgown, she lay high up on pillows in the huge bed of her lavishly furnished bedroom watching a movie on the large screen television on the opposite wall.
Her phone lying next to her on the bed soon rang and she saw at once that it was the call she was waiting for. She answered it.
“Speak,” she said simply as she put the phone to her ear.
“It’s done,” came Hector’s voice.
“Did she show any weaknesses?”
“Not one. She even killed the man and his wife herself. Shot the man seven times but not before making them see their children die. She had us burn the house to destroy all evidence completely. We did as you asked with the baby and when she found out she coldly warned me not to make that kind of mistake again and I will definitely remember that. She had us put the baby outside in a safe comer of the compound before torching the house, says we don’t kill babies. She’s ruthless, clever, and unforgiving as hell but doesn’t have a bloody mouth.”
“How do you men feel about her?” asked Madam T.
“Respect and awe only, madam. They already see her as the one by your side. Seeing her in physical action would definitely be incredible with this mindset and all that training she’s had.”
“Good,” Madam T cut the line and put the phone aside.
She lay quietly in the bed, thinking deeply. After a few minutes, she made herself more comfortable and let sleep take her.
To Be Continued…..
*Action stories of wealthy African women in organized crime*
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