Chapter 9
The brain is a magnificent organ. In times of danger, it could speed up its process to ten times its normal capability. In the split second it took the bullets from the AK 47 rifles to hit the SUV, Frank’s mind had raced through about a dozen things; why he agreed to take up this job, how much pain he would feel before he dies after the bullets hit his face, how his bloodied up body would look, what the headline of the story would read on the blogs the next day, why the sun looked so big and red as it set in the distant ahead- these and many other thoughts filled his mind before the first set of bullets hit the SUV’s windshield.
He blinked a couple of times, but he was in a frozen state. The two guys dressed in black had gotten off the back of the bikes and were walking slowly towards them, firing nonstop. It felt like heavy rain drops hitting the windshield horizontally, but the bullets weren’t penetrating. The SUV was bulletproof. The driver had put the car in reverse gear, and was backing up, but as he swerved for the car behind him, he veered off into the bush on the side of the road and hit a tree hard. They jerked back and forth in the car.
There was chaos everywhere. Cars were reversing, and some people were abandoning their cars and running into the bush. The Volvo was now parked awkwardly on the road; the two bikes blocking their path to the right, and abandoned cars to their left. There was a ringing in Frank’s ear; he could see Fatai Lion saying something to him but couldn’t make out what was being said. Everything was happening so fast. To his left, he could see one of other two SUV’s navigating through the rough driving of the other cars, trying to get to them. The third SUV was nowhere in sight. Fatai Lion was on the phone, barking out orders. The guys had noticed the car was bulletproof and had shifted their attention to shooting at the tires. Loud popping sounds of the tires busting could be heard as dust filled the air. The driver put the car in drive and was about to move forward when Fatai Lion put his hands on his shoulder and said, “Don’t move; stay here.” Frank looked at Fatai strangely, and he Fatai said to him, “Don’t worry. They can’t get to us.” The bullet rain kept going on outside. To their right, the riders of the bikes had gotten off the bikes and were heading towards the Volvo; one of them was dragging a heavy looking white sack on the floor.
One of the shooters shifted his focus from them to the SUV the security detail was in. They could have rammed the guy with their SUV, but there was an obstruction in between them. Two cars had tried to reverse, but out of panic, had hit each other, making sort of like an upside down ‘V’ sign with their cars, before getting out and running off.
When the shooter ran out of bullets and made to change cartridges, Pascal instructed the rest not to shoot before jumping out of the car. Pascal was Fatai Lion’s French army trained Togolese bodyguard. At 6 foot 4 inches tall and weighing 130kg, he was a hulk of a man. Without a gun in his hand, Pascal jumped over the bonnet of the two cars blocking him from the assassins, reaching the one closest to him just as the guy was about to raise the AK 47 and start firing again. A quick head butt left the guy woozy in the head; Pascal then proceeded to jacking him up and throwing him at the other guy who had slowly started shifting his firing aim towards Pascal. The two guys went down, letting off a few accidental discharges that had leaves and tree chips flying in the air. He was about to head over to finish them off when he noticed the other two assassins were now pouring petrol on the SUV. One of the other bodyguards was by his side now, holding a stainless steel Smith & Wesson model 500 handgun. Pascal signaled to him to finish off the two guys. Two deafening shots rang out from the large-caliber revolver as Frank walked to the other side of the SUV.
With shaky hands, one of the assassins struggled with a matchbox as he attempted to set the SUV on fire. The other one started swinging the machete in his hand at Pascal. Swoosh! Swoosh!! Pascal jumped backwards twice, and then jumped forward just before the assailant swung the machete at him the third time. He held the man’s machete hand with his left hand, swiftly turned around so that his back was to the man and the man’s arm on his shoulder; he then hit the back of the man’s elbow hard and a loud “Ahh!” was heard as the man’s bone snapped and the machete dropped to the floor. Pascal then proceeded to throw the guy over his shoulder. The guy hit a tree trunk face first, and collapsed to the floor.
The car was on fire now, but the other bodyguard had successfully gotten everyone out just in time. The guy that set the car on fire had the bottom half of his body on fire; running round in cycles, and screaming as he tried to take off his jeans. He eventually ran for the bushes. The car burned lazily like they had used Kerosene and not petrol; but still Pascal could feel the heat. He took a few steps back and assessed the whole area for a second before running off to join the others. They all got in the other Volvo, went in the reverse gear for a few seconds, turned around swiftly, and drove off in top speed.
I say bravo to you Pascal