Cold air. It's past midnight. I'm at the dock yard. I have lost my right shoe and I'm holding blueprints but I'm clearly not dressed for work. I hear footsteps behind me and I run up the stairs. I reach the last deck and I'm trying to catch my breath. There's no where to run. I feel a sharp pain in my shoulder and my ears start to ring. I fall over the edge, with the blueprints tight across my chest. The water embraces me and everything goes dark. The ringing gets louder and louder and even louder......
6.00AM
My alarm
It's morning. Ouch
It's a Friday morning Ouch ouch.
Fridays are a weekly reminder of my non existent social life. The white walls of my new apartment calm me as the details of my nightmare fades. I find with each unsuccessful attempt at a relationship I have to switch apartments even though I'm barely ever home, my work has me occupied. Driving to work relaxes me, the landscape is ever changing. The buildings keep getting bigger. The competition for who owns the biggest baddest skyscraper. Everything is a competition these days, and it's always a surprise how far people can go to win.
They say if you concentrate hard and long enough on the waves you can sense the ocean calling. All I hear is the water hitting the sides of the dock yard, but if the ocean could speak to me it would probably tell how excited it is to have the gigayatch as we now call it ride it's waves. It's been an honor to be put on this project. More respectable engineers with better credentials could have gotten the contract to build Alhaji Danyadi's super yatch but I was chosen. My ideas were deemed radical and turned down by the engineering society but Alhaji saw potential. "Wallahi Tunde this one will be bigger than the rest kwo? Let them see it all the way from Aso Rock". It was no longer about how fast but how big. I was going the extra mile and doing both.
It has been a long couple of years but things are finally taking shape. It will be 436ft long - longer than a football pitch with a maximum speed of 25 knots. It will accommodate 62 guests and an 80-man crew. With an eye for luxury it would feature two helicopter pads, two swimming pools, an outside jacuzzi and a disco hall. But that is barely scratching the surface. The plans for the security features are underway and I am meeting with the security contractors in a few minutes.
Mr Salako and his aide, are already sitted in my office. The look on his face says it all, he expected a much more experienced engineer working on a project of this magnitude. He is the best at his job and that's why I overlook his attitude. His aide has hardly said a word except when she introduced herself. She seems to be silently sizing me up. She has beautiful brown eyes, long black hair which she pulls back on the sides to show off her expensive earrings. I have to take care not to get caught looking, I wouldn't want to be deemed unprofessional along with the other unflattering adjectives. Mr Salako has plans for bullet proof windows, missile defense system, armor plated master suite with a retractable roof and a mini submarine with internal boarding for quick escape.
"These have never been put together on any other super yatch, you understand how important it is to keep these plans safe" warns Mr. Salako. As much as I don't like been told how to do my job he has a point. Alhaji Danyadi is not particularly liked in political circles. He has switched parties more times than I have switched maids. He always seems to find himself on the winning side.
"I will have them put in our vault for safe keeping, thank you Mr. Salako" I reply to ease the tension.
As he leaves my office, his aide gives me a wink before closing the door behind her. Maybe I haven't lost it all, my boyish charm which had me awarded most sought after 3 years in a row in my university days. My last relationship ended in a mess, apparently I was drifting away and cared less for her with each contract taking me to different parts of the country. The emptiness she left behind making me justify spending more time at work.
"T-money wetin dey make you think like this?" I didn't hear my partner in crime come in, Mr Life of the Party, Damola Cole. Still in his early thirties and has been divorced twice already. Like me all he had was his work to cater to but he indulged in excesses that I have no interest in. "Was going over some numbers for the new engine" I reply.
I catch him staring at the blueprints on the table and swiftly put them in my desk locker. I am going to stick to my word and keep them top secret. Breaking the awkward silence he goes "I hear you, there's a new spot over at the water side, going over there with the boys after work I hear they have a lot of uni girls coming in, you know your taste na" I can't hold back the laughter. Maybe that's exactly what I need, Damola's influence for one night to clear my head. I agree to go, just before he rushes out I remember what I needed him to do "Get the men to move the small boat in, no need to have it out like that attached to the yatch". He turns and straightens up in a full military salute "yes sah!" I push him hard, but he has proved to be resourceful on the job.
12 A.M
The boys are set to go. I have taken off my tie and dabbed on another layer of cologne. The new club is right on the expressway. The gateway to everywhere, smart choice indeed for whoever thought of setting it up here. Damola must have greeted everyone we came across on the way to our table. We have barely gotten half way through our first bottles of champagne when Damola brings over 6 barely dressed girls. They seem shy at first but in about half an hour they are paired up with each of us and getting comfortable. Mine looks in her mid twenties but in reality might be barely 18. She drinks generously maybe to help blur out what is supposed to go down after. I stand up and go to sit over at the bar. The club took great pains for customer satisfaction the bar man has a cocktail ready the moment I sit down. While I sip on that I catch the eye of a pretty young miss at the far corner of the club. I turn away but she holds her stare and smiles when I try to catch another glimpse. She stands up and walks over to the bar, reaching over me she orders a cocktail. I try to stand to give her room but she pushes me back in my seat. She comes in close till I could smell her perfume, something slick. Then whispers in my ear if we could talk outside.
We walk past my table to the exit. The boys are going crazy. I take her back to my car, she doesn't waste any time before putting her lips on mine. The slow kisses build up momentum till I am at her neck, her skin is so soft. I pull back to look at her and she gives me a wink, suddenly those brown eyes look all too familiar. Then I feel a pinch on my neck and everything becomes a blur. I am being dragged to the back seat of my car, my right shoe comes off as I am being pulled through the door. I open my eyes to try and call for help, and there is Damola Cole running towards the car just before I pass out.
When I come through, Damola Cole is still there infront of me but this time with a gun in his hand. We are all back at my office at the dockyard. Mr Salako's aide is sitting in the corner still wearing her short black dress. "What's the meaning of this Damola" I ask still groggy from whatever she gave to me. Damola grins at me and orders "Give us the security blueprints and you might just survive tonight". All the blueprints for the super yatch are in the safe, well except the most important one which is still in my desk locker. I walk over to the safe unlock it and step back. Damola Cole looks towards Mr Salako's aide and just as she stands up to go to the safe, Damola shoots her in the head. "Never really liked her, too ambitious" he remarks before spitting at her corpse now in a pool of her own blood.
Damola walks towards the safe to examine the blueprints. With his back turned to me I reach over to my desk locker and pull out Mr Salako's blueprints and run to the door. Damola slides his right leg in between the doors before I can shut him in. I kick at his leg till his shoe comes off but he refuses to be locked in. He bangs the door into my face, snatches the blueprints from me and puts a gun to my head as I lay down on the floor defenseless.
"DONT MOVE, DROP THE GUN" never thought I would ever be this happy to see the Nigerian Police. I slam the gun from Damola's hand while he is clearly distracted. He runs up the stairs towards the last deck the blueprints still clutched tightly, the Nigerian police in hot pursuit. They have him outnumbered but he would not give up. A shot is fired and the pain puts him off balance he staggers just before falling over the edge of the deck. I wait for the splash of his body hitting the water but instead hear a loud crack as his head hits the small boat attached to the yatch. He hadn't moved it in like I said he should. Damola Cole my "good friend", I have a lot of explaining to do and Alhaji Danyadi will not fancy his super yatch being delayed. What a night this has been.
