The Nivenger (A Political Action Thriller) – Episode 3

Click Here to read the previous episode The Nivenger (A Political Action Thriller) – Episode 1 and The Nivenger (A Political Action Thriller) – Episode 2

Episode 3

Breaking News: Abuja Airport under Siege!

Details are still coming in. At this time it is unclear what is happening. All we know is that Senator Abdulla Rasheed is one of the senators revealed to be corrupt. His colleague was murdered by the Nivenger, and right now it seems that the Nivenger has him cornered in a corridor in Nnamdi Azikiwe Airport. More news after the break…

***

“Senator Abdulla Rasheed,” I say to the corrupt politician in my deadly low, gruff voice. “YOU HAVE FAILED THIS COUNTRY!”

The senator flinches at the intensity of my voice and the pressing of the edge of my knife against the skin of his throat. I slide the knife a little, drawing blood. Trickles flow down to stain him erstwhile immaculate dress and he whimpers, his eyes shut tight. In the tunnel, the smell of gun powder is choking. I take a brief moment to look at the man’s wife, who is now dead on the ground. I look at his guards who are strewn around like ragged dolls. I look at the small girl who is laid over her mother, shaking her to try and rouse her from death. She too would taste the sting of my blade for all were guilty before my eyes—all!

I turn back to the senator who seems to have taken leave of his dignity and bravado, muttering phrases of prayer, calling the name of Allah.

Enraged at such heretic action, I grab him by the chest and jerk him away from the wall just so I can slam him back with the might of my muscles. The senator retches on impact, spilling blood and tissue from his bowels. I pin him to the tunnel wall again, though this time I point the tip of my blade to the part on his chest that was directly over his beating heart.

“Don’t pray to Allah, you fool!” I mutter, anger coloring my voice. “What you have done, Allah would make your departure from this life swift and your time in hell an everlasting torture.”

Now Senator Abdulla Rasheed looked at him with the hate of a million tortured souls. He made to speak, but I don’t let him.

First I remind him he can die at any moment by pressing deeper into his chest with the tip of my blade, which causes terror to return to his face. Satisfied by this, I say to him, “Be very careful what you say to me, Senator Abdulla Rasheed. It will very well determine how you and your daughter will die…”

Senator Rasheed seems to freeze at my statement. He looks at his daughter, who is still trying to wake her mother. It is almost a pitiful sight, but I have taught myself never to pity the sinful nor the corrupt.

“What kind of man kills a child?” Senator Rahseed asks, his eyes widened by fear.

At his question, I have a flashback: I am in a small, dank room with about sixteen other people and what looks like a military instructor. There isn’t much to see as the room is very dark. But there is a small window by the side and the diffused light of sunset illuminates the portion of the room where an iron bed is. On this iron bed sits a mother cuddling her three year old child. I can’t remember what happens before this scene or how I get here. Out of the sixteen young looking men, only two of them are black like me. The rest are all Caucasians—they are all hard looking so I assume this is how I look because as I step forward, the mother cringes and begins to cry speaking … Russian? It is then I realize I understand her—she is begging for her daughter to be spared.

The instructor hands me a 9mm Berretta and says to me, “Ubiystvo!” Kill!

Terror strikes me to my boots. I waver.

The instructor takes my hand and stuff the grip of the weapon in it. With impressive, instinctual automaticity my hand clenches around the weapon’s grip and the barrel comes up in less time than an eye blinks.

“Strelyat’ ikh oboikh!”

His instruction rings in my head like a buzz. He wants me to shoot them both. I aim and shoot once. The mother collapses dead, while the child begins to scream, hanging on to her mother as though she is alive. I aim at the child but I cannot bring myself to pull the trigger. I may kill men and women, but I have never killed a child before. How can I kill a child? Where does this heartless cruelty stop?

The instructor pulls his gun and I feel its cold barrel on my clean shaven head. He says in a deadly low voice that never fails to terrify me, “Ubit’ ili byt’ ubitym.” Kill or be killed.

I don’t think again. I aim and shoot.

Anguish erupts in my mind causing the memory to dissolve back to the pit of sorrow from whence it came. I take deep breathes so my anguish won’t overwhelm me.

“I will kill her before your eyes,” I say to the senator, furious that the man questions my resolve. “But first I will make her suffer. I will make her cry for your help but you will be unable to help her. Then I will make you watch as the life drains out of her. Togda ya ub’yu tebya.” Then I will kill you.

Senator Abdulla looks, shocked senseless, at me.

I take his silence as acquiescence. “Tell me where I can find the Colonel.”

“The Colonel?” asks the Senator. A puzzled look overcomes his face. Before long realization hits him between the eyes.

“You can’t possibly know about…”

“The Lazarus Protocol?” I ask him, watching with as terror and shock mix into a potent whirlpool in his eyes. “I know about the Lazarus Protocol.”

“It’s not possible,” Senator Abdulla replied. He shook his head, saying, “It’s not possible.”

A loud bang at the door into the tunnel brings my attention there. I see that the security operatives are trying to break down the door. I have only a few minutes to finish up with the Senator.

“Tell me where he is!” I roar, and raptured by my feeling of anger I stab the man in the shoulder. Senator Abdulla lets loose a guttural cry of pain. He tries to grab the injury with his hand but I don’t let him. I pin him harder and he fights for control. However he is anything but strong and soon, when he realizes he can’t overpower me, he quits.

“The next one goes in your daughter’s eye,” I say. Then I push away from him, grab his daughter and place my knife to her right eye. Senator Abdulla tries to advance in my direction, but I retreat further down to the plane’s closed hatch.

Senator Abdulla stops in his tracks, the flashing light illuminating his horror struck eyes.

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” the man says.

“I want the Colonel,” I say. “Tell me who he is and where I can find him.”

Senator Abdulla says, “You don’t understand. Enacting the Lazarus Protocol can only lead to bad things. You say you avenge Nigeria? Doing this, raising the dead, will only lead to terrible things for us.”

I smirk at him, though he can’t see it through the hood that conceals my identity. “No! It will lead to freedom! When I find the Librarian, the whole world will know the truth about every corrupt politician and every corrupt leader of industry in this country.”

“You foolish boy,” the man says, suddenly becoming defiant. “How more naïve can you get? No one has seen the Librarian in decades. No one even knows who or what he is. Why do you think that is so? Why do you think only a handful of people know about the Lazarus Protocol?”

I do not answer him. I do not have an answer for him.

The Senator shakes his head in pity. He bows his head in thought for a moment. Then he jerks it back up and gulps loudly. His eyes are so wide with fear I think they would pop out if they got any wider.

“You are after the Librarian?” he asks as though just figuring out that part of my plan now. “You want it…”

As he mentions it even I cannot stop the shivers that descend my back. Cold fear covers me like a blanket of ice.

La Biblio Skullptura.

“Mad man!” the Senator yells and in the blink of an eye he closes the distance between himself and I. He grabs his daughter and the knife in my hand and I am too shocked to react. Then he withdraws back and stops. He kneels by his daughter, holding the knife outwards.

“What you want to do,” he says, his voice thick with emotions. “It will destroy us. All around the world, Nigerians will be slaughtered like pigs. If the world knows what we did. Our hidden history… If they find out about it…”

“Truth must come to light,” I say, defending my action. In a micro second, I pull out an arrow from my quiver and notch my bow, aiming at the man’s head. “With or without your help, I will find the Colonel, I will flush out the Librarian. Then I will get La Biblio Skullptura, and the whole world will know that Nigeria runs on lies because its very foundation is a lie. What we did? What our founding fathers did? Everyone will know.”

Senator Abdulla shakes his head. He produces a tablet from where it is secreted on his person and feeds to his daughter before I can react.

“No!” I yell, but his daughter starts to convulse, spitting out white foam. I watch as the child is stilled by death.

“It is better this way,” Senator Abdulla mutters to his dead daughter, shutting her eyelids.

“You killed your own daughter?” I roar, pain piercing through my heart like hot needles.

Senator Abdulla looks up to me. His eyes are solemn and weary. “What you are about to do, even The Cabal won’t survive it. There are some secrets better left dead.”

“No!” I cry, holding on to the shred of humanity I have left as my anger threatens to send me over. I can already see the terrible things I want to do to the Senator. It was one thing for me to kill the child, but it was another thing for the man to kill his child. “The dead must rise again! The Lazarus Protocol must be enacted. I will find the Book of Skulls. The whole world—every Nigerian will know the truth. Then they will have the choice they never had in the first place.”

Senator Abdulla pointed the knife at his chest. “Then there is nothing left to say. I can’t let my daughter be alive in the world you will create should the content of that Book be made public. We are better dead than alive.” And he stabs his heart.

I roar in anger and let my arrow fly. The arrow goes clean through his head, lodging itself in the midst of his brain. At the same moment, the door into the tunnel gives way and the security operatives flood the tunnel. I pull a special arrow from my quiver and notch my bow again. I aim at the ground beside the dead Senator and let fly.

As the arrow strikes the ground, there is a loud explosion and smoke fills the tunnel. The security operative pause for the smoke to clear. When it does, I am gone.

 

The Nivenger will return in the next update.

Beware, O ye corrupt leaders, for the Nivenger is coming for you!

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