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Diary of An Assassin | Episode 2

Diary Of An Assassin

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Lost in thought, looking out the window of the third floor of the building at the almost deserted street, bottle of whiskey by my side and tray of marijuana ashes next to it, I shut my eyes for a few seconds like that would shut the whole world out and bring to fade the new mission, code named ‘Elim bamosi’. Those that know less would have no idea what that really meant; eliminate senator Badamosi.

Why? Why me? Am I not the best?…at least until a better contractor with more finesse skill and precision comes to, I still will be, nothing but the best. But still, why now? Have they forgotten so soon how good I am? My sharp instincts and optimum calculative and… I will surely meet them halfway this muddy lane, two, surely can play.

The sound of my phone vibrating on the glass table brought me to. My hate for noise got me off public places, I do rather drop dead than be seen in the company of lousy, weaklings; shadow man, they call me. I slowly got off the window for my phone. As expected, hidden caller’s I.D.


“This, Randy, is to put you through all that you need to know for this operation…” a distorted voice began.

“you know so well how much Randy hates to be updated with the same info over and over again.” I said with iced tone.

“Operation ‘Elim bamosi’ is two hours away. Flight 2k will be there at Bakery Street. Do you Copy?”

After many checks, crossed ‘TEEs’ and dotted ‘I’s’, Senator Badamosi turned out to be an easy fry, not my specialization. If the job doesn’t entail running through heavily armed securities, ‘ghosting’ through hidden cameras and slipping narrow escapes, then it is not my thing…and they knew that quite alright.

I walked back to the window, street devoid of human activities, not a single soul. I took a gulp off the whisky bottle to get my thoughts straight.

“I plan my own getaways. Your concern and worry should be to have the target eliminated..”

“this time you work with instructions, Randy. Do not mess with this. You were specifically chosen for this job out of the list of best contractors the agency..”

“Do not insult me! Damn it!..” my voice calm and deadly. “..this is a job for an intern. Easy bites, easy chew…not my kind of job.”

I took the phone off my ear for a few seconds in irritation, the animal was laughing in derision with his distorted voice.

“Oh Randy, I forgot how much you hate the sound of laughter.. we all know..” who doesn’t? “..follow instruction for the sake of this mission, it has nothing to do with your skills.. there is a bigger plan, Randy..” he continued. “..You will be let into that when you pull this through. Will get in touch with you the second you hit the highway… and Randy.. don’t ever talk to me in that tone, ever.” He said with a tone of dismissal and the line went dead.

I pocketed the phone and lifted the bottle of whisky to my lips till there was no drop left. A few drags on the newly lit joint plus a cold face wash and I was set for the night. I pulled out the briefcase from under and set it open on the bed and got the well packaged clothe from the wardrobe next to it. I loaded my guns and checked for my costumes, satisfied, I shut the brief and changed into my black fitted pant and body hug t-shirt, threw a long sleeved shirt on, unbuttoned and headed out of the room of cheap brothel I had fixed up in for barely a day. I checked out at the reception, paid no mind to the shabby receptionist glare. Probably she was thinking ‘what is a bald, old man carrying a briefcase and walking with the support of a walking stick thinking, checking out of the brothel by this time of the night; 10:57 pm.’

The second I stepped foot on the pavement by the road, he pulled to a stop in front of me, my driver, an unknown. He was to convey me to the hotel which was over thirty minutes’ drive from the brothel. I got the door open and walked in without a word and he sped off, up the street and into the night.

All through the drive, not a single word was said; he didn’t care who I was neither did I he. This is the job, no questions asked. I did catch him try to steal a look at me through the mirror, had it not been for the darkness… I bet he had never seen a bald, old contractor before. He was tempted to look over when I struggled to change into my new costume.

We pulled to a stop in front of the three star hotel, he got off and helped me out, that was part of the arrangement. I did see the shock on his face; the briefcase and my new attire got his mind twisted. He took hold of my brief and I let him. He walked me into the reception and paid for the room 102 with the money I took out of my ‘agbada’. He was nothing but a good P.A, a good actor, one like myself. I took the key and instructed him loudly to go home and come pick me up first thing the next morning and I continued on my way to the room with my brief, accompanied by a staff of the hotel.

Walking down the passage to my room, I took note of the strategically placed cameras up on the wall. With shaky hands, I tried in futility to get the door to room 102 open, the young man offered to help me and I let him. I used the opportunity to steal a look at the next room’s door; 103. Just as I walked into my room, the door to the next room opened, and he walked out in the company of two beautiful young ladies with laughter, hands on their waists, Senator Badamosi. What the fu…he was supposed to stay in that room till twelve noon the next day.. taken by surprise, I walked in and shut the door.. SHIT!!!


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