"Good job, everone," Mr. Akin said, voice low but urgent. "Now let's move quickly. We need to find Scar… and end this".
They'd done it.
They had fought back.
Their hearts were beating back, adrenaline surging through them. They were scared to their wits' end, and yet, they'd done it. And they had to continue.
"Ken and the others, search their bodies for any useful items," Mr. David commanded, his voice firm as he pointed to the boys.
They nodded and moved quickly, patting down the unconscious guards. Mr. David retrieved the two AK-47s from the floor and handed one to Mr. Akin with the ease of a man long familiar with weapons.
"Akin, take this and watch over them. I'm going to check outside, confirm the coast is clear," Mr. David said, his voice low and focused. He walked toward the door, each step silent and deliberate.
"Understood," Mr. Akin replied, gripping the rifle and assuming his post.
Ken finished his search and shook his head. "Just some naira notes. No satellite phone, no keys".
It wasn't what they'd hoped for, but there was no time to dwell on it.
Mr. David returned moments later. "Outside's clear. There's a truck out front, it can fit all of us. Time is 6:20," he said, glancing at his wristwatch.
Jessica stepped forward, eyes laced with worry. "What about Scar?"
"He'll be in his room for sure," Mr. Akin answered grimly. "You know what? David, take the females and two of the boys. Head for the truck and wait for us there. I'll take Ken and these two," he pointed at the remaining boys. "We'll deal with Scar, get more weapons, the truck keys, and his satellite phone".
"Alright, let's go! Let's go!" Mr. David urged, motioning for the others to follow.
"Be safe, guys," Madam Benita said, worry etched across her face.
"We'll be waiting," Jessica added, her voice trembling but resolute.
Mr. Akin, Ken, and the two boys slipped away from the group, moving through the warehouse's shadowy corridors.
The building was enormous; long halls, scattered rooms, dim lights flickering weakly. The air was stale, tinged with rust and mold. Scar's quarters were deep in the structure, isolated by design. There was no way he couldn't heard the scuffle.
At the end of the hallway stood a heavy, worn-out metal door. Behind it, there he was… Captain Scar.
Mr. Akin raised a hand, signaling them to halt.
They listened; silence. No movement inside. He turned to them with a sharp whisper. "This is our chance. We go in fast, quiet. We take him out".
The boys nodded, adrenaline pulsing through their veins.
Mr. Akin began a silent countdown; three fingers, then two, then one. He eased the door open.
Inside, Scar sat with his back to them, hunched over a table. He didn't stir.
They understood immediately what the guards had meant by Scar's quiet time. A thin line of white powder stretched across the table. Scar was sniffing cocaine, lost in his high, completely unaware of the chaos unraveling just meters away.
Mr. Akin crept closer, rifle raised to strike. He brought it down with force.
But Scar moved.
In one swift motion, Scar ducked, and Mr. Akin's momentum sent him crashing into the table. The chair scraped back violently.
Scar spun around, suddenly alert and wild-eyed.
Ken was first to react, launching a front kick, but Scar caught his leg mid-air and slammed an uppercut into his jaw. Ken collapsed, clutching his face, dazed.
One of the boys stepped forward with a jab. Scar sidestepped, grabbed him, and hurled him into the other boy. Both went down in a tangled heap.
Scar reached for his pistol.
Before he could aim, Mr. Akin surged forward and kicked the weapon aside, the gun discharging into the ceiling with a deafening bang.
The room exploded into violence. Scar lunged at Mr. Akin. They grappled savagely; blows, grunts, and sweat. Mr. Akin managed a headlock but Scar wriggled free, landing a heavy punch to Akin's ribs.
Ken staggered back to his feet, pain flooding his sensed but he pushed it down. One boy tackled Scar from behind. The other grabbed a chair and swung, missing but the distraction was enough.
Mr. Akin dove for the pistol, grabbed it, and trained it on Scar.
"Don't move," he panted, sweat glistening on his forehead.
Scar froze. His eyes flicked around the room, assessing his situation. Then, he slowly raised his hands.
"Ken, grab the satellite phone on the table, the truck keys, and any weapons or ammo you can find," Mr. Akin ordered.
Ken and the others immediately scoured the room, collecting what they could. Each of them slung an AK-47 over their shoulder; the weight sobering, final.
Ken handed the satellite phone to Mr. Akin.
Then, suddenly, gunfire!
Muffled shouts echoed from outside.
Mr. Akin's eyes snapped toward the hallway. "Let's go, now!"
He turned to Ken. "Finish it. Then catch up".
The others bolted from the room, leaving Ken alone with Scar.
Scar laughed; a high-pitched, manic laugh that cut through the tension like a blade.
"HAHAHAHAHA!"
"Shut up! What's funny, you monster?!" Ken shouted, voice raw with rage.
Scar's bloodied face twisted into a grin. "Do you even know how to cock that rifle, kid?"
"I said shut the fuck up! You're insane! I watched you slaughter passengers like they were nothing! I saw you kill a boy, he could've been your son! You blamed the military, the government, your gang. Everyone but yourself!"
Scar's laughter died. His voice dropped, suddenly calm. "I know. I know I'm a monster. That's why I want you to do it. Pull the trigger," he grinned maniacally, then smiled. "Set me free. I miss my wife, my kids. Let me see them again in heaven".
"Shut up!"
"Pull it, boy!"
"I said shut the f*ck up!"
"DO IT! PULL THE TRIGGER!"
"I SAID… SHUT UP!!!"
Ken screamed as he raised the rifle, not to fire, but to strike. He smashed the butt into Scar's face. The man crumbled, unconscious, blood streaming from his broken nose.
Panting, trembling, he stared at the man's limp form. Then he turned, gritted his teeth, and sprinted toward the hallway, leaving the broken monster behind.