Aftermath: Inception

I sat in my car, waiting for the control center to contact me. I'm not a patient person, but it's been thirty minutes and I have yet to hear from the institute. I had already spent nearly a week waiting for the right moment to complete this task. I had to return home in a few days. My fiancée and I were planning a special day, and I wouldn't miss it for the world. I couldn't stop looking at my watch. It was 11:35 p.m. when I felt my phone vibrate inside my jacket. I didn't bother checking to see who was calling before answering the phone.

"You took your time," I said as soon as the line was connected.

"We're sorry for the inconvenience", a female lady replied.

"What do you have in store for me?" I expressed my displeasure. "You already know how the building is laid out. The building contains approximately twenty hostiles. "The target is inside his lounge, and we believe he will be taken to the secured vault beneath his building once the shooting begins," the female voice explained. I listened for a long time until I became bored with her explanation. The geeks, as we called them, had an uncanny ability to make something quite violent sound like a peaceful debate.

"Would you mind giving me anything useful, such as the types of weapons I'd be facing in there?" I interrupted her before she finished her next sentence. "We don't know for sure, but we're confident you can match their abilities."

She continued, "Use your gauntlet to follow the map. It takes you directly to the lounge. Good luck, Adam."

She cut the call as soon as she wished me well. I was a pain in their asses, and I was well aware of how much trouble I was always causing them. I, on the other hand, was unconcerned. I was here to complete a task, just as the one I have completed before now. I let go of the phone and pulled out the M9 pistol from my glove compartment, along with the four-inch ceramic silencer. I exited my car and went straight to the trunk. I took out the few items I needed, such as the titanium bulletproof vest and a couple of pistol magazines. I wouldn't believe the control center when they said there were about twenty hostiles in the building. That wasn't the first time they underestimated the number of hostiles I'd face on the job. Before inserting my magazines into the rifle and pistol, I wore my titanium bulletproof vest over my black long-sleeved shirt. I took out the gauntlet, strapped it around my left arm, and activated the screen interface. This was created a few years ago to help hold a few pieces of information, such as a map needed for a mission. I let the drone loose as soon as I powered it up. A thermal heat sensor was attached to the drone, which the institute will use to collect data on body heat. They can be more precise this way. I inserted the small ear bud into my ear, expecting to hear the female voice again.

"Okay, Adam. We are now online. The mission is a go," she said after a few seconds. I'd navigate the gauntlet map into the building, and the control center would keep me updated if there was any new development they weren't aware of. I slung my rifle over my shoulder and closed my car's trunk. The drone flew off to the top of the building ahead of me.

It was late at night, and no one was walking down this street because my target was relaxing in his mansion.

There were other homes on the estate, but his was in the far corner, surrounded by bushes. I had enough cover from the dark skies to walk around the building. The street lights were not pointing in the same direction as the CCTV cameras. This street's surroundings were poorly designed by whoever created them. I walked cautiously, avoiding all the cameras, until I found myself in front of a massive building. The compound was about three plots wide, according to the control center's information, and each side of the fence was armed with electric currents running through tiny strings mounted on the fence. If the house is powered by public power, it would have been simple to turn off the power in the building, allowing me to get past the mounted strings.

Unfortunately, the building's power is provided by a standby generator. However, there was another way to remove the security measure. I raised my pistol up, aimed my target on two different little iron bars mounted on the fence holding the tiny strings from one end to the other. I pulled the trigger and shot the bars one after the other. The bars fell from the fence, but it still hung there because the strings were attached to the other bars on the fence. The fence was just about six feet tall and that was no big deal for me. Even with the electric current running through the string hanging on the fence, there was enough space on top of the fence for me to climb onto it.

"Is there anyone in front of my position?" I asked into my comms.

"Negative. Everyone is in the building," the female responded.

The gauntlet only displayed a map of the building, with no information about the people inside or where they were located. I charged at full speed towards the fence, stomped the wall with my right foot, and propelled myself high enough to swing my body over the fence and into the compound, briefly dodging the string hanging on the fence. In a splitting crouch, I landed on the floor. I was in my target's compound, which looked fantastic. The building was quite a view with the garage on the left side and the generator shed on the right. Each balcony had a glass railing, and the building was two stories tall. The compound was brightened by light poles mounted on every corner of the building, and several expensive cars were parked outside the building.

"I'm in," I said over the intercom.

"Now, go to the generator shed and turn off the building's lights. It will allow you to move around unnoticed," the female explained.

"And where is the fun in that?" I snorted.

I wasn't going to play by her rules, and she knew it. As I previously stated, I was a pain in their asses. I, on the other hand, went straight to the generator shed as she instructed. I turned the light off and on quickly by pulling the lever that passed the current into the building. I finally turned off the lights in the building, certain that someone would come to check the generator if anyone was still awake. I moved to the dark corner of the shed waiting for someone to get caught in my little trick. A few minutes later, the door slammed shut and there was a commotion. There were definitely two men coming towards the shed. As soon as they entered the shed, I pulled the trigger on my pistol and aimed at them one by one. It was a perfect kill shot to the head that was also quiet due to the silencer on my pistol. The two men fell to the ground in a pool of blood in less than a second. When I got close to my prey, they were dead on the floor. They were dressed neatly and carried no weapons. I moved cautiously towards the door, my pistol holstered and ready to shoot if anyone comes from the building.

The building was still dark and without power, which was a disadvantage for both me and the hostiles inside. I didn't have a night vision goggle on, so it would be difficult to see, but the control center was in my ear, guiding me around.

"I'm approaching the building now," I said into the comms.

The door burst open as soon as I was in front of it, and I immediately pulled the trigger. The man was shot in the chest and fell to the ground, his face collapsing.

"Once inside the building, turn right." Take the stairs to the second storey. "The majority of the hostiles are up there," the female voice said.

I raised the gauntlet to my eye in search of the stairwell. The gauntlet had a reading of all cardinal points, so it told me whether I should go straight or in another direction. The stairwell, on the other hand, was on the left, so I went straight for it.

"On the left. Someone is coming straight at you....two of them. "Two hostiles are heading straight for you," the female said. I sighed as I heard her sound unsure about the information she was giving me. I couldn't say anything if someone was in front of me. Suddenly, one of them turned on his phone's led light, which pointed me in the right direction. I fired before they could even look up to see who I was. They fell down the stairs one after the other. Because the stumbling on the stairs could have drawn attention, I intervened to keep the bodies from collapsing on the floor.

"Do you need any more corrections?" I whispered angrily into my coms.

"There are no more hostiles approaching you. "The target had exited the lounge and appears to be on his way to his room," said the female voice in my ear.

I walked slowly up the stairs, trying not to squeak the wood. To avoid being seen, I turned off the light coming from my gauntlet.

"Be careful, there are a couple of them up there," said the female voice.

I raised my pistol and walked up to the second floor. The floor was buzzing with activity and laughter. I wasn't sure what was right in front of me, so I walked slowly, watching my every step. Unfortunately for me, the light went on and everything went to hell. I was directly in front of a dozen men, their weapons beside them. They were startled to see me and took at least a few seconds to pick up their arms. That was enough time for me to duck into a small corner and avoid being hit by bullets if they decided to shoot at me. The dance of flying bullets began as soon as I was out of the way. I was too angry to move, and I was also afraid of being hit if I raised my head a little.

"What's going on over there, Adam?" "Are those gunshots?" inquired the female voice on my coms.

"Of course," she says. What the fuck did it sound like?!"

"How in the world did the lights turn back on?" I yelled into my coms. I had to shout into my coms because the gunshots were so loud. Besides, I was irritated by their errors. They should have alerted me to the fact that someone was approaching the generator shed. "Someone must have used the back entrance to go outside the building. You need to move out of that place. Anyone coming on the stairs has a clear shot at you from there," the lady replied in a more high pitched tone.

"Yeah, I see that! It's not like this place is full of barricades. Were you not supposed to have eyes on the entire building? Goddamn it. You guys are really useless!" I shouted angrily lying down on the floor trying to avoid the bullets piercing the wood from getting to me.

"On your left! Someone is a few feet closer to you," the female shouted.

I took out my pistol, crept around to the left side of where I was hiding, and pulled the trigger without looking around. I shot for a long time before someone died just ahead of me.

My eyes widened as I stared at the man who had collapsed face down on the floor.

"I suppose your uselessness could be redeemed," I thought to myself.

"You'll have to guide me blindly. And don't fucking mess it up. I'm not going to be shot in the back."

"All right, but you'll need more firepower," the lady said.

"What do you mean, more firepower?" I yelled back. "I thought you said there were about twenty of them. I've already dealt with four."

"Don't be a jerk, Adam. That man is insane. I'm sure he dispatched another troop as soon as he heard gunshots."

Unfortunately, she was correct. The man I was here to see was more paranoid than insane. I had to be quick and move quickly. A few seconds of shooting came to an abrupt halt.

"They're approaching you. There are two on the left and three on the right....four on the right," she clarified.

"What the fuck is going on? Can you get the numbers correct? "I'm driving blind here," I admitted into the coms. They might be able to hear me more clearly now that the gunshots have stopped.

"Sorry....the heat signature isn't the same as having a camera watching you over there." "You'll have to take initiative as well," she retorted.

"Oh, I'm using my initiative quite well. You just can't fucking do anything with more precision. It would have been better if I had done this alone," I said as I swung my pistol to the left and pulled the trigger, causing a stud to fall to the ground. The rampage resumed with the sound of a rifle falling to the ground. They were returning fire into my corner.

"Someone is approaching the stairwell," the female voice said. I was crouched in a corner, with only a large piece of wood between me and a gang of crazy men. There was a slim chance I could get away from these guys and find a better place to hide. A few seconds later, I noticed a head pooping out the top of the stairs, staring at me. I pulled the trigger and was relieved when it hit him. If it hadn't, he would have shot me and I would have died; better him than me. The rampage shooting abruptly ceased, and I knew they were out of bullets because I heard a click from their rifles. I leapt from my prone position, aiming at the men one by one and pulling the trigger.

They were about thirteen in number. There were four of them behind and three standing a few feet apart. They were standing to the right. I was able to take out a few of them before they could reload their weapons. I had enough time to flee before the rampage resumed. Before the others were ready to shoot again, I shot about six of them. I dashed towards the stairs and jumped down as soon as I saw they were almost finished reloading their weapons. My body dives backwards towards the ground, quickly approaching it. As I fell to the floor in a splitting crouch, I heard the rounds of gunfire. I was certain they would follow, so I hid near the stairs, where they couldn't see me. I didn't get a chance to look around the room earlier because it was dark. The room was now brighter, and it was a large hall. The walls were covered in old paintings, and the floor was carpeted in a deep blue color.

I was quietly waiting behind a large caricature when I noticed the shadows of a few men walking down the stairs.

"Adam, some of them have separated from the group you shot at. It appears they are making their way to the back door," said the female voice on my coms.

"So, how many people do I have to deal with here?" I asked quietly into the coms.

"From what I'm seeing here, it's probably around six. And they're right above you," she said emphatically, emphasizing the first seven words.

I sat quietly waiting, listening to their incomprehensible chatter. I grabbed the rifle and pulled the man's hand stumbling onto the ground as soon as one of them pulled his gun up as he stepped off the stairs. I punched him in the face in the blink of an eye before the other could. He turned around as I held him behind his back with my arm around his neck, shielding him from the others who would soon start shooting. I pointed my pistol at the people on the stairs and pulled the trigger, one by one, while holding their mate unwillingly in front of me as a shield from the rounds fired at me. He was bleeding as his men fired at him but missed. Before I let the man fall to the ground, I made sure I shot them all. When I heard the chatter outside the building, I went to the stairs to make sure they were dead.

"Adam, a few of them are now approaching the building from the outside. "I'm not sure how many of them are coming at you," she explained.

"I appreciate your candor, but it doesn't make it any better. Please keep an eye out for street. I want to know the moment another troop arrives," I said as I walked cautiously towards the entrance, my rifle now holstered high.

Something caught my attention. It was a small room to the right that appeared to be an ammunition room.

The earlier shooter on the stairs must have opened the door without closing it. It wasn't particularly well-stocked, but I did find something useful.

"How did you not know there was an arsenal here?" I smiled as I spoke into my coms.

"I had a feeling there was something in there, but it was impossible to tell if it was an arsenal," she explained.

"Well, it's an arsenal, and I have something that I desperately need." I entered the arsenal and pulled out two stun grenades and a tear gas canister. I crept to the back of the entrance door, waiting for my assailants. I heard whispering just outside the door a few seconds later. As soon as I got the pins, I threw out both stun grenades. I went outside with my pistol holstered high as soon as I heard the loud bang outside. The men outside were still stunned by the stun grenade, so I caught them off guard. They were about thirteen in number. I quickly reloaded my pistol and pulled the trigger, aiming at them one after the other. I shot them one by one, and a couple of them fell to the ground.

As I approached the back of the troop, one of them attempted to raise his rifle at me. I struck his rifle high and shot him with mine before he could react. Before another could react, I struck him with the butt of my pistol, breaking his focus, before shooting him in the head at close range. I was getting closer to most of them now, so I had to use combat to have some fun as well. Another person raised his gun, so I somersaulted over him and shot him in the back as I landed in a crouch. I dashed over and punched one guard in the face while simultaneously kicking the other in the back. The kick was powerful, and his body collided with the wall. Before he could get back to his feet, I shot him in the head. As I sprang up behind him, I flashed past another, dodged his punch, and shot him. There was only one left, and he was crawling away. I yanked him by the collar and threw him against the wall. He was breathing heavily, and fear was written all over his face.

"Where is your boss? I swear I won't kill you, so just tell me. I'll find him in any case," I said, a cynical smile on my face.

"I......I'm not sure. I'm new here.... "Matthew will know....he...he is always....with the boss," he said, trying to catch his breath as his eyelids slid open forcefully.

"What about the money?" "I heard your boss has a large stash of cash somewhere in this house," I inquired, my tone becoming more serious.

"What are you up to, Adam?" Just shoot him and move on to the next target. "You still have time before his troops arrive," the female voice on my coms said. I turned away from the scared man in front of me, "Hey loud mouth. Do you mind shutting your mouth? I am working, okay? Just shut the fuck up." I turned back to the guy behind me smiling at him.

"Where has the money gone?"

"I don't know anything." "Matthew....Matthew is in charge of everything around here," he said softly.

"So, where can I find this......Matthew?"

"He is always with the youth leader." He is with him right now in his secret vault," he said, afraid to even stand. I raised my pistol to his head, ready to fire.

"You said....said you wouldn't kill me," he said, his face contorted in terror.

"I know....but you've seen my face, and I wouldn't want someone trying to guess what I looked like." Sorry, I'm really sorry, but you have to understand, okay?" I said this while attempting to appear sincere. I pressed the button and he fell to the ground dead.

"The vault is located in the basement." "Try to flush them out," said the female voice over the intercom.

I reactivated my gauntlet's screen. I followed the gauntlet's instructions to the basement. I walked in after opening the door. The tear gas canister was still in my back pocket. There would undoubtedly be an air duct or a ventilator in the vault. I tried to follow the blueprint of the building displayed on the gauntlet to trace it. I discovered an opening just two metres from the basement's entrance. I yanked the pin from the canister's head and tossed it into the air duct. I found a small steel seat around the corner and dragged it all the way to the front of the vault. Soon after, I noticed smoke coming from beneath the vault. A few minutes later, the metal door swung open, and two men coughed their way out. They were choking on the smoke that was now filling the basement. I sat with my legs crossed on the chair leg as the two men raised their heads to see who was in front of them.

"I'm glad you could make it to the party. So, where do we start?" I smiled at them as they exchanged glances.

My target was on the right, and he appeared more gruesome than the image I had of him. The other guy was undoubtedly Matthew, who the guy I interviewed earlier was obsessed with. Matthew charged at me, attempting to attack me, but he was too slow. Probably because the smoke had made him weak. I jumped up from my seat and struck him with the butt of my M4 rifle. He collapsed to the ground, his eyes closed. He was unconscious as I dragged him out of the basement by his collar.

"What do you want? Who are you? Did they send you? I knew they'd kill me....how much do they pay you? I can double it. I can even triple it. Just....just name your price," he blabbed until I dragged him back into the large hall.

"Dude, my services are not available for hire." "I'm sure you did something stupid, which is why I'm here to take care of you," I said as soon as I let go of his collar.

"Why, why, why are you doing this?" I've got a family.... I don't want to die....please....please," he begged on his knees as I pointed the pistol at his head.

"Well, I heard you had a lot of money in this house and you killed a lot of people," I explained. His reaction was unexpected.

"What? People were killed? Who concocted that story for you? Who said I killed people? Who sent you? Yes, I have embezzled some funds, but killing.....I have never taken a life," he stated emphatically.

"It's not my job to question my superiors, but I've heard a lot of bad things about you in the last few weeks, and I've got to tell you, they're really bad," I said with a smile.

"Those are lies, I swear. I've never killed anyone. I wouldn't dare," he said, a genuine expression on his face.

"Are you certain you didn't kill anyone? No, not directly... But I'm sure you're aware that the funds you stole could have helped millions of people in need. Don't those people have families as well?"

The man swallows hard, and I raise my gun at him.

"Please....I can turn over a new leaf. "I........," he begins to beg.

"Sorry, man....I've got orders," I said, pulling the trigger on the pistol aimed at his brow. As blood poured from his head, he collapsed to the ground. I was about to walk away when I heard a small stud. Matthew was attempting to walk down the hall. He was taken aback when he saw the dead man on the floor. He frowned at me, his chin up. I just stared at him, not feeling anything. He charged at me like a raging bull and slammed into me before I could react. He moved quickly, knocking me to the ground after I struck a small vase nearby.

Matthew jumped to his feet and attempted to slam his boot into my side. Just before the collision, I spun out of the way. I jumped to my feet just as he slammed me into the wall. I hit the wall hard before connecting my fist to the side of his face. I stomped him in the stomach with my boot before he could regain his balance. He collapsed to the ground, and I repeatedly kicked him in the gut.

"What the hell is going on, Adam?" asked the female voice on the coms.

"I...am...trying....not to ....get killed," I said as I continued to kick Matthew in the gut. He grunted some more before finally kicking my foot. I landed on my knee, and he took his shot, uppercutting me in the chin and side-sweeping me off my feet. I fell to the ground, and he jumped on me, punching me in the head several times. I was able to deflect a few before my elbow could strike his face. I pushed him off me as soon as he stopped punching. He stumbled a few feet away from me on the ground. As soon as he got to his feet, he charged at me again.

We got into a brawl of punches and kicks. Every time he swung at me, I was able to block and dodge a few of his attacks. He was just as quick as I was until I got the upper hand and dropped kicked him across the room.

"You murdered him, you fucking bastard. I'll have your head," Matthew said, his teeth clenched as he slowly rose from his previous crunch position, wiping blood from his lips.

"You have to get out of there right now! Just shoot him in the head!" yelled a female voice over the coms.

"I'm working on it!" I replied, fist clenched. He charged at me again, so the fight wasn't over. He dashed across the room, slamming into the wall. His fist was slamming into my face. I ducked instinctively, allowing him to smack into the wall next to my head, denting it. He threw another punch, which I deflected with my forearm. He continued to throw punches at me while I only shielded my face, but he finally punched me in the stomach and I fell to my knee. He punched me in the face, grabbed me, and threw me across the room. He kicked me until I was backing another wall in the room.

I didn't let up on guarding my face, and he began to gasp. His rage was making him sloppy, and he was slowing down. I saw my pistol nearby and I realized I could end this quickly before it gets even more messy. I knock him with my elbow and he slung sideways. I crept up behind him and smacked his face against the same wall. As soon as I saw he lost focus, I picked up my pistol, pushed it against the back of his head and pulled the trigger before he could blink. His blood was splattered all over the magnificent painting in the vast room. As I withdrew my pistol, Matthew lay motionless on the ground.

"Nice sparring partner, but I have to get going," I said, looking at his cold body.

I walked out of the building and into the compound, surveying the damage I had caused. I walked to the gate, unlocked it, and exited to my car. I opened the trunk of my car and put the weapons and bulletproof vest back inside. I quickly walked back into the car, stroking the nape of my neck.

"Mission completed?" inquired the female voice on the coms.

"Affirmative. "See you at the institute tomorrow," I said as I removed the coms from my ear and flung the gauntlet off my left arm into the passenger seat.

I started my car's engine and proceeded to drive it back into the shadows behind me.

As I drove back to the institute, so many memories began to reappear in my mind. I wasn't where I am now when it all began because it started out very differently. So, let's take a trip back to the beginning. First off, my name is Adam, and I work for the Federal Republic of Nigeria's Secret Special Corps as an agent. I didn't have a last name, but I went by many aliases, including Vincent Onuoha, Matthew Jacobs, and Davis Anthony. In Nigeria, however, I was known as Bartholomew Davis.

I really don't know much about myself other than the fact that I was born on March 3, 2002, and I'm not sure if any of my family is still alive. I don't remember a lot of things and I didn't find that strange at all. According to what we were told at the training facility where I was detained when I was young, the government had chosen a large number of children to take part in a specialized training program designed to produce more dependable and effective soldiers who could perform duties both at home and abroad. For my benefit, I was picked. The children selected ranged in age from six to ten. They were also selected from orphanages all over the nation. In this manner, the government will receive praise for putting together a program for orphanages since they obviously won't disclose to the public that they were converting us into soldiers. It was convenient for them because nobody would look for us if something happened to us.

Along with some other children, I was removed from the orphanage home and taken somewhere I didn't know at the time. I would have been six years old when I was removed from the orphanage if I had guessed my age correctly. So allow me to describe our experience to you. First, Maxis Special Training Institute chauffeured us to a small training facility (MSTI). Private security training institute Maxis Special Training Institute has cutting-edge training facilities all over the country. The government announced that all security personnel would receive their training at Maxis Special Training Institute after MSTI was recognized as the largest security training facility in Africa. A few years later, the government gave Maxis the contract for the Secret Special Corps training program. One hundred forty children were chosen nationwide after Maxis was given the project. The sheer number of children without families was so astounding. Following that, we received training in every facet of military operations. Training in the physical and psychological domains came first. Most of us found the psychological training to be simpler than the physical, which was quite laborious. This series of injections was routinely administered to us. Our bodies needed those injections, it was explained to us, in order to adjust to the intensity of the physical training we were undergoing.

Some kids were taken away after a few weeks, and this went on for a while. For whatever reason, they were unable to keep up with the training schedule. Our training got tougher every week, but on one particular day, it went to a whole new level. I had never previously handled a real rifle before that. We learned how to take a rifle apart and put it back together. The Steyr HS.05 sniper rifle was the first firearm I ever handled. Both cold and weighty. I could still vividly recall how satisfying it was to disassemble that rifle in three minutes. Awesomeness ensued. We were never asked to shoot it, which was unfortunate because I was excited to do that. We trained and competed for weeks on end and we were ranked at the end of every week. It was like assigning positions in class to determine who the best student was, and I could proudly say that I was the best. You should have seen me. Because I was the young child who knew more than the other young children, some of whom were older than me, I frequently found myself in trouble. We could all see the scoreboard because it was set up in the cafeteria. We received injections throughout our training, but they eventually stopped after a few months. Since I was afraid of needles, I was happy that they did. We never left the training facility, so it was difficult to keep track of the passing of time. We were only able to view the world on a screen.

We were clueless as to when the sun rose or set for a very long time. We were always in training while living inside a brick wall. Only eight hours total-split into two hours-were spent during our siesta. The second eight hours of regular training in all areas came four hours after the first eight hours of rigorous physical training, which included combat training. We could only keep track of time in that way. Some of our trainers told me that I was improving more quickly than the other kids. I felt invisible as a result, and I never wanted to stop. I made a concerted effort to maintain my lack of material possessions. It alternately felt magnificent and like I was alone at times. As the days went by, our training remained difficult. We quickly moved on to another skill after mastering one. During the training, more children were removed, and by the time there were only 26 of us left, I was the youngest. I wasn't sure of my exact age at the time, but all the other kids were already in the puberty stage, and I resembled their younger brother who was always ready to kick them in the ass. Our training transitioned from regular training to super training as a result of the introduction of new trainers. Shooting moving targets was followed by advanced combat training and then an endurance test. It was a lengthy list of laborious exercises.

Did I mention that none of us had names? We were never given our names during the training; only our serial numbers were used. A one triple zero eight was mine (A10008). Over time, we lost track of our real names. We used serial numbers to identify one another. Anyway, there were only 26 of us left when the institute abruptly assigned names to each of us. How kind of them, don't you think? We were given names based on where we were on the scoreboard. It was strange that everything was alphabetical. Most, if not all, of the names are still fresh in my mind. They were:

Adam

Bartholomew

Cynthia

Dammy

Ella

Faisol

Gideon

Haleem

Isreal

Jimi

Kehinde

Lydia

Mobarak

Nimot

Oriel

Peter

Quadri

Raymond

Salah

Titi

Usman

Vincent

Wendy

Xander

Yosef

Zubair

The first name was mine, Adam. I'm fairly certain that our training lasted for years. For a long time, the other kids and I followed the same routine every day. Eventually, the only topics we could discuss were our combat training, how it was going, and how much I was enjoying shooting my rifle. Without any diversions, we were reducing ourselves to mere soldiers. We never explored the outside world because that was all we were aware of. Because of the orientation provided to us, we never felt caged. We were eventually removed from the facility in 2020. We loved the adventure so much. We didn't know how the world looked, so it seemed absurd to us. After twelve years in the facility, we finally realized that we were now going on a world tour. It served as a sort of reward for us being good students. One of us would have been expected to flee, but we didn't. After a few weeks, we were transferred to a new facility in Gombe, where we simply had as much fun as we could. Now that I wasn't a child anymore, I was aware of the location's name. I had just turned eighteen.

We all anticipated our training to be tedious once we arrived at the training facility, and the instructors didn't let us down. We were ready for any kind of instruction. This time, we had new instructors, most of whom were foreigners. The team was divided into pairs of twos. I ultimately was paired with an old friend. We were taken from the orphanage together, and her name was Ella. We have always practiced being a one-man army, but now we must practice working together. Most of us found that difficult, especially Ella. I wasn't anyone, and she didn't like working with anyone. I was the squad's best player. She was an older than I was, so I couldn't control her. Additionally, we were informed that if more than one person was needed for the mission, we would go on it with our partner. We then received a handler who served as both our trainer and our guide. He was from Italy and went by the name Adrian Corsette. We consistently practiced. Ella and I adjusted to Adrian's training style. We develop into formidable opponents for any team we come across after some time. We used every means possible to torment the opposing teams. Ella was unbeatable with her strategies, whereas I was good at taking action.

The same routine, which mainly involved training, was followed week after week. The director called us for a briefing one lovely day. He described the procedure for approving us to join the Secret Special Corps. If we completed the mission, we would be given the authority to act as agents. So, there was only one more test to take. Hearing that made me very happy. Being able to perform the task for which I had spent my entire life training felt quite relived. Before Ella, several others left on their first mission. She was tasked with eliminating a human trafficker who had powerful connections and would therefore escape punishment. Ella had already gained entry because she was so graceful and attractive. She would perform the role of a hooker, which is how he obtained the girls he abducted. Ella returned a couple of weeks later. Her mission was finally complete. Ella gave the man permission to kidnap her thanks to her brilliant way of thinking. He transported her to Kano, where he was supposed to meet with his buyer, after drugging her in a hotel. Both the buyer and the trafficker were killed by her. Wasn't that awesome? Only the bad guys were targets for her mission. Well, the purchaser was also one of the bad guys. That didn't, however, win Ella the director's favor. Ella was a soldier, and soldiers do exactly as they are instructed. They do not perform extra tasks in order to impress their superiors or earn points. I was furious about the ridiculous notion of letting the buyer leave. When I had my first mission, it was more than just a success and I was only nineteen years old. Without sounding egotistical, I became a hero and was regarded as one of the SSC's legendary agents. My objective was to rescue some foreign nationals who had been kidnapped by militants who wanted $200,000,000 to free them. One of the men was an American, and the other was a Swiss engineer. The director claims that these foreign nations were prepared to send troops into Nigeria to rescue their citizens but decided against it after reaching a deal with Nigeria. I, a nineteen-year-old boy, was instructed by the director to free those men from captivity. I answered without any hesitation. I couldn't wait to embark on my first mission. If I failed, the government wouldn't have lost anything. All they would have to do is allow those foreign troops to enter the nation with safety. Fortunately, I was successful and that didn't happen.

I could still recall how I had felt following my first mission. I was greeted with cheers and a rousing round of applause as soon as I walked into the building. It turned out that the drone I released prior to the battle was playing back the status of my mission to my teammates. I had freed foreigners who were being held captive by about 60 armed adults. I crashed their party like a wrecking ball. I rose to the status of a living legend after that day. I was solely responsible for the Secret Special Corps receiving the President of the Federal Republic of Nigeria's approval as a successful security program a few weeks later. I don't want to sound arrogant, but it was my effort that put the cherry on top in the end. It was a fantastic accomplishment for both the nation and the SSC. The foreigners recounted the events, but they were forced to omit the specifics of being saved by a teenager. The SSC eventually received permission from international security organizations to access global data.

We sent money overseas several weeks later. For three years, we traveled all over the country-France, Germany, America, and Britain-not for sight-seeing but rather for additional training in spying, linguistics, and computer use, as well as to forge connections with the global community. The first set of SSC was activated and assigned tasks on April 24th, 2024. In order to keep our identities a secret, we were also honored in a private ceremony. We received covert identities and fake backgrounds after the ceremony. My assumed name was Bartholomew Davis, and I was set to work as an estate agent for one of Nigeria's most prosperous businesses. Ella pretended to be Dora Ciroma, a travel agent who was supposed to be employed. The Federal Republic of Nigeria's president had to give his or her prior consent for the SSC operations to be carried out. The operation was to be coordinated by the SSC director and overseen by the Defence minister and the Department of Covert Operations. The Maxis Special Training Institute, the primary overseeing body for their subsidiary program, is where every SSC agent reports. The SSC and the agents referred to MSTI as the Institute. After that, the SSC was operational. Do you recall the young people who were taken away during the training? They turned out to be useful after all. They served as spies for the institute. They were assigned to every department involved in maintaining national security, including the police, customs, border patrol, air force, navy, and army. It enabled the institute to compile such a large amount of data from across the nation. After a number of years, we are now regarded as one of the security agencies that criminals are most afraid of. We've had a lot of successful operations abroad and have gained recognition all over the world. The SSC was given the freedom to be mentioned alongside illustrious organizations like the FBI, KGB, CIA, and numerous other strong security organizations. On a few occasions, the SSC and a few of these security units worked together on joint task forces, and we never fell short. Instead, we got compliments. There were some negative moments mixed in with all these joyful ones. I lost a lot of friends, and the SSC continued to enlist new recruits. Additionally, the program to train children to become super soldiers was discontinued. It appeared cruel. The new strategy involved moving aggressive personnel from any security organization in the nation, including the army, navy, air force, and police, to the SSC, where they would receive specialized training to help them control their aggression. The Institute grew so large that there were branch offices in all 36 of the federation's states as the years passed and there were many new faces in the area. There are about 2,000 safe houses and a sizable information network both inside and outside the nation. We are now living in a new era. The enemy's network expanded as we grew in size. It appeared as though we were battling the same forces once more.

Even though I was growing weary of it, I couldn't grumble. I was a soldier, and I must perform. I snapped back to reality and kept on the expressway, driving my car. I was about to have a special day, and I wouldn't trade it for anything. I was returning to the headquarters, located in Jos, Plateau. I fastened my seatbelt and increased the gas because I knew it would be a bumpy ride.

With more than 130 confirmed kills and roughly 100 successful missions at home and abroad, I was one of the best secret agents the SSC had ever trained in ten years. Well, for me, things were different. Odeyemi Oyelola took over as director of the SSC after Dr. Abdul Sahir, who had trained me when the program first began, retired from his position in that capacity. I wasn't a big fan of Dr. Yemi. He simply gave off the impression of being one of those connected men. He didn't fit the profile I had for the head of a covert security agency.

Walking into the building now feels less exciting than it did before. It wasn't as glorious as it had been when I returned from my first mission. I had just returned from another mission, and as with all missions, I had to show up for my psychological and physical assessment. Because I was well-known, I had to smile at everyone who waved at me once I entered the building. My name wasn't exactly difficult to come across. I entered the elevator, which was already occupied by a few people, most of whose faces I couldn't identify. It was different from the past when the institute wasn't as large. There were recruits, both agents in training and other personnel. I glanced at the control panel, it seemed we were going to the same floor. They all kept grinning at me, so I had to smile back out of courtesy. The elevator started to move, and when we reached the seventh floor, it stopped. I then exited the elevator with a few other people. After any mission, I hardly ever sustained serious wounds, so the physical evaluation always came to a quick conclusion. I went right away to see the doctor. Her name was Dr. Itoha Angela. She was one of the institute's gentlest and most passionate members. Because of the nature of her work, she had to be gentle. She was hastily looking through her shelf when I pushed open the glass door of her office. "Doctor?"

Angela turned around and grinned at me, "Hey Adam." She didn't look a day over fifty. She still had a good-looking, hot appearance.

I smiled back at her and said, "Hey."

Angela asked with a broad smile, "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine, business as usual." She returned to her search for whatever it was she was looking for.

I asked, looking worried, "Doc, you looking for something?"

"Oh, it's a book I borrowed from my fiancé...ex....my ex-fiancé. I have to return it to him," she answered without looking back at me.

Angela has dated a lot of men, especially a woman her age. However, this is none of my business. I'm sure her parents will be nagging her mercilessly to marry. In Nigeria, things were like that. If you are single, especially if you are female, and especially if you are as old as Angela, you are a big loser, and that made her a big loser.

"Wait, you broke up with Anthony? I kinda liked the guy," I replied, flashing a small grin. I know I shouldn't have done that. Angela made a sharp turn to face me and gave me a stern stare. My impish grin quickly vanished. She was upset with me because I had never met any of her boyfriends and Anthony was a fake. What can I do, even though it was a poor sense of humor? I've already spit it out. She frowned and pointed directly at the hospital bed that was in the room's corner. I knew what that meant, so I simply walked over to the bed and lay down.

"Hey, Doctor. Was this bed recently changed? It is more comfortable than the others," I was attempting to strike up a conversation, which I failed miserably at.

"Indeed, Adam. The director changed all the beds... five months ago," Angela emphasized the last words as she pulled out her stethoscope to examine me.

She drew her chair closer to me and sat with a stiff expression on her face. "Are there any aches and pains?"

I returned her smile as I sat up on the bed "Absolutely not. Nothing out of the ordinary you know....the usual."

Angela turned back to face me, "What's the usual, Adam? Please be more specific."

"You know, the fatigue, nausea..."

"Of course," Angela said as she took the aneroid monitor from the small steel drawer beside the bed. She aggressively grabbed my arm and returned an evil grin without making eye contact. She inserted two fingers between the bones in my wrist and the tendons that run over the radial artery on the thumb side of my wrist. She looked at her watch for a few seconds cautiously registering my pulse.

"OK, that's good," Angela said as she let go of my wrist.

"All right, relax," she said. I agreed, resting my left arm on the table across from me. She wrapped the cuffs around my upper arm, just above my biceps. She handed me a rubber ball, which I squeezed. She took my blood pressure and then removed the blood pressure cuffs.

"Okay, this is also good. Lie on your back."

"So... how is your ankle?" Angela asked as I lay down on the bed. "Oh, it's fantastic. The drugs took effect quickly," I responded with a broad grin. I wasn't the kind of guy who takes injuries on the battlefield but I managed to sprain my ankle just by fixing the network cable. Angela assisted me with a few treatments. Because I was a covert agent, I wasn't supposed to report to any hospital. Besides, I had a doctor who would treat any ailment I had for free. Angela drew my shirt up and pressed the stethoscope against my chest. "Deep breath." I agreed, and she listened.

"Take a deep breath."

"Out," Angela said again, and I followed her rhythm for a few seconds before she yanked the stethoscope from my cloth.

"So, you're ready to go, but I need to give you some drugs first. So, before you leave, please get back to me."

Angela just shifted her gaze away from me after she was done speaking. Sometimes, I could be a jerk but I know when someone was in pain.

"Hey," I said softly, and she returned her gaze to mine.

"I'm sorry about... him?" I said. I was expecting her to say his name.

"Andrew. His name is Andrew," she said finally, forcing a smile.

"Damn, Andrew. I was almost there. Andrew, Anthony."

"He just wasn't the one," I said solemnly as I returned to her. "You'll find someone who makes you happy, I promise. You are incredible, so his decision to leave you was a mistake."

"I broke up with him," Angela said, her brow furrowed.

"Oh....okay. I suppose he earned it. So don't be concerned," I said, trying to maintain eye contact, but she just stared downward.

"He certainly deserved it." "I just need to give him the fucking book back," Angela replied, her voice venomous.

"You know what? Why don't we burn the book? It might make you feel better...it might give you closure, "I wasn't sure she'd agree.

"Yeahhhh. That is a great idea. He can shove it up his ass."

I was surprised she agreed to that.

"Just get ready to set that book on fire. We're going to turn that book into asses once I get back," I said as I jumped out of bed.

"First, I need to find that book," Angela said, frowning slightly as she returned her gaze to the shelf.

I didn't even tell her I was leaving because she appeared to be more concerned with finding the book. As I walked outside her office, I opened the door and rolled up my sleeves. I was now on my way to see Dr. Khalif Mariam. Another incredible woman I had the pleasure of working with. She was the institute's psychiatrist. The goal was to ensure that everyone in the institute, particularly the field agents, was in the right frame of mind. Because living a double life was difficult, the covert operatives were given more attention. I used to enjoy going to see Mariam and having that wonderful session with her, but not anymore. Don't misunderstand me. I adore Mariam as a person, but it was her job that made me sick. I was able to talk to her freely before, but not really now.

I didn't have to go upstairs because her office was on the same floor. I could see her through the transparent glass of her office door. She was reading a book as usual, completely unaware of my presence. I tried to open the glass door but it was locked, so I knocked. She set down the book and rose to her feet to approach me.

"Adam," Mariam said, smiling as she opened the glass door.

"Mariam, hello," I said, smiling and avoiding eye contact. She could read people just by looking them in the eyes. To get into the specifics, she completed her studies in Canada. She had completed all of her studies to the doctorate level, obviously in psychology, and she was only 34 years old when she was hired by the former director, Abdul Sahir.

"Please come in."

I responded to her request by sitting on the couch near the office's corner and looking sideways. She drew the curtains to avoid interfering with the evaluation.

"How are you?" Mariam asked, her eyes welling up as she returned to her desk to retrieve her writing materials.

"I'm fine, how about you?"

"Oh, I'm fantastic. I recently finished the most recent edition of Kawaki's Peace of Mind. Have you finished reading yours?" Mariam asked.

"Uhmmm...no. I haven't even begun yet. Nene carried it to school with her."

So, if I haven't already told you, Nene is my girlfriend. So, the last time I was here, I had a strictly professional argument with Mariam, and she suggested a book for me that she had on her shelf. She didn't hesitate to hand it over to me. It was, however, the oldest edition. I didn't even take the book home with me. I just tossed it into my locker at the institute.

"It's something you should read. It's truly fascinating," she said, pulling the chair closer to the table with a dimpled grin on her face.

"I'll give it a try." So, what are we up to today?" I was eager to get this done. I wish I hadn't said it with such zeal; maybe I wouldn't have gotten my head twisted.

"Well, first and foremost, tell me how you're doing."

"I am fantastic," I said sarcastically. Really great.

"And how was the mission?" Mariam pushed harder.

"Well, you know, the usual. There are bad guys to be eliminated, and I am the guy for the job, as always," I responded, forcing a smile on my face that I later realized was too fake. It didn't hold up. Mariam immediately scribbled something on her notepad. Every time we spoke, I would pay a billion dollars to know what she was writing in the book. Only the directors know which annoys me the most.

"Be specific, Adam," Mariam said, returning her gleaming gaze to mine.

"Well, to be more specific, it was a local job..." And now we begin. Everything I did and how I did it must be explained to me. Fortunately for me, there was not much to say.

"It wasn't an international mission; it was a local one. Uhmmm... a youth leader was extorting money and was also extremely corrupt. He assassinated the majority of his opponents. So I was to eliminate him....well, I did eventually."

I wasn't sure how that sounded to Mariam, but it didn't sound too good to me. I simply avoided making eye contact with Mariam. I had placed a greater emphasis on elimination, which I'm sure meant something to Mariam.

"So he's dead, right?" Mariam inquired, raising her glasses.

"It's as cold as ice." I couldn't see my face, but my expression was not giving Mariam anything to go on. "So, what would you do differently on your mission?"

"Well, not that my opinion matters, but..."

"Who said your opinion didn't matter? What made you think that? I should say", Mariam abruptly cut me off after hearing what I had just said. Her pupils dilated unexpectedly. That was stupid of me. When talking to a psychologist, every word counts, so I should have chosen my words carefully.

"Well, I'm a soldier, and soldiers are supposed to do what they're told. Your thoughts and feelings are yours and yours alone. So..."

That sentence didn't end well. I knew because of the way she returned my stare. That meant continuing. "Well, I don't get to do what I want when I want or how I want," I explained, "especially one for which I have spent my entire life training. It wasn't always like this. We were trusted to do our jobs instinctively, but that's no longer the case."

"How so?"

"Even if I explained it day and night, you wouldn't understand. It was just how we were taught, but now our opinion isn't worth much," I replied solemnly. I, too, heard it, as did Mariam. She didn't go any further.

She took a deep breath and fixed her gaze on me before continuing, "Have you any regrets?"

I scoffed to myself. Not that Mariam wasn't aware of it. I was certain she did, but who cares? I could feel my facial muscles tense up.

"Do I have any regrets?" I repeated what she said with a dead stare as if I expected her to respond to that question. "I believe that will be answered after all of this charade of justice that we have going on."

Charade of justice was a pretty strong word to use. I didn't know where I pulled that out of but if I was a magician, which I am not that would be like pulling an elephant out of a hat. Mariam couldn't help but smile as well. It was hilarious of me to use such terms.

"So you mean it's not worth it?" Mariam continued.

"Maybe you should ask me that question years from now. Right now, I am doing what I have to, just like a soldier," I replied her forcing a fake smile.

"Okay, then, let's move on from there. How do you balance your personal and professional lives?" Mariam inquired.

"I'm making an effort. Lying doesn't get easier. The more I tell, the more difficult it becomes," I sounded more at ease as I tried to release the tension I was feeling earlier. Talking about Nene calms my nerves in ways I can't explain. Mariam continued after writing something in her notebook once more.

"And finally, if you could eliminate one weakness or limitation in your life, what would it be?"

"You already know the answer to that question," I said, my face a little frowning. I could spend the rest of the day answering that question, but I needed to save her the trouble.

"Of course, I do," Mariam replied with a smile on her face.

Just then, a knock was heard on the door of Mariam's office.

"Come in," she said.

The door opened, and I was relieved to see who had entered Mariam's office. It was Mrs. Selma, the assistant director. In that building, she was my favorite person. She was everybody's favorite.

"Adam," Selma said a beautiful smile on her face. That smile always makes my heart melt.

"Mrs. Selma...hi," I said as if I were a cute little puppy.

"I hope I'm not bothering you," Selma said.

"No, we're almost done here," Mariam replied, smiling as well. We were all smiling at this point. That was the amazing Mrs. Selma's influence.

"How are things going?" Selma asked me a question.

"I'm fantastic. How are you doing?" Mrs. Selma just smiled back and that said it all. Of course, she was fine. If she wasn't, it would have been hard to keep up with that happy face.

"Well, I just wanted to let you know that the director would like to see you when you're finished, okay?" Selma stated.

"Okay, I'll be there," I said simply, smiling. That didn't make me happy. As she was about to leave the office, she returned our smile. She then turned around, as if she remembered something.

"And Adam?" she asked, turning to face me.

"Uhmmmmm," I muttered.

"Behave yourself," she said solemnly. I understand what she's saying, and Mariam does as well. These people are aware that I dislike the director. We never got along with him as well as the other agents did.

"Of course, ma'am," I replied, emphasizing the last word heavily. Mrs. Selma smiled and walked out of the office.

"What went wrong this time?" Mariam inquired as soon as Mrs. Selma closed the door.

"I disagreed with the control center during my mission," I explained as Mariam rose from her seat.

"Of course you did," she sneered as she approached her desk.

"You'd better get going. You don't want to make him wait," Mariam explained.

"Yeahhh...okay then," I got up from my seat and walked to the door. I was about to open the door when I realized I needed to ask a question. "Mariam?" She returned her gaze to mine.

"Do you send the director all of those reports?" It was a stupid question, but I needed to know the answer.

She said with a smile, "I'm here to assist you, not him. You have always been my top priority."

As I walked out of her office, I smiled. That was nice to hear, but I'm not sure if she was telling the truth. I was on my way to the director's office, which was eight stories up. So I went straight for the elevator, and this time I was the only one in there, so I had that period all to myself. I didn't want to see the director, but I didn't have a choice any longer. The elevator door slid open less than two minutes later. Straight ahead was the director's office, which you can see inside. I wasn't a fan of knocking on the director's door, so I just opened it. The director was on the phone, his back to me, looking out the large window in his office. He was completely unaware of my presence.

I thought I heard him say something on the phone. He stated, "Don't be concerned. The issue has been resolved. You may proceed with your plans... Then I decided to knock on the door, drawing his attention to where I was. He quickly returned his gaze to mine. He was still on the phone when he motioned for me to take a seat.

"Uh oh...yeah....all right then. Okay, I'll talk to you later," Yemi said as he hung up the phone and set it on his table.

"Adam...hi," Yemi said as soon as he put down his phone. "It's great to have you back. How did you find your evaluation?" As he walked to his office's mini-fridge, Yemi inquired.

"It was great, thanks," I replied with a blank stare.

Before turning to face me, the director took out a pack of juice and two glass cups. "Would you like one?"

"Oh no....I'm fine," I replied, squinting.

"Alright," Yemi said as he replaced the cup in the fridge. "Good job yesterday," he continued. You did an excellent job with that."

"Sure, thanks."

"So... I heard you had another argument with the control center," Yemi finally revealed the reason for my summon. I scowled at him. It was already becoming a habit, so I was surprised when he inquired about it. Besides, he was the director, so he would have been given the full report, so he knows exactly what happened.

"We need to talk about your attitude. This is completely unacceptable for an agent of your caliber," Yemi said as he sipped from his glass cup. I returned his frown without saying anything.

"So... Would you like to explain why you sounded so angry?"

"I'm just grateful to be alive," I retorted angrily.

"They are there to assist you, as I have stated numerous times. If you require assistance, we rely on them to make our jobs easier... and your job easier."

I frowned, "And every time I expect them to deliver, they fail miserably. I was almost killed there because of the damn inconsistency of the information. It was so much easier when your toys weren't telling me what to do." I must have struck a nerve because the director's expression said it all. If given the opportunity, he could take my head off.

He scowled "What about my toys? I did not bring them in. What exactly do you expect me to tell your superiors... our superiors? Huh?! That one of my men will not listen to the information provided by the support center?"

"Tell them whatever you want. I expect those clueless nutjobs in front of a computer screen to have my back when I go into the field."

"Those nutjobs are your damn coworkers, and they've had the backs of every other agent in this institute! Yours always comes with a lot of trouble," Yemi retorted.

"There's a war out there, and only the one who fights better wins! I fight better alone than with someone who has no idea what I'm doing." I was turning this into a competition, and Yemi was having none of it. He was completely enraged.

"I think it's about time you were put in your place," Yemi raged. You're a damn soldier! When ordered to do something, you fucking comply!"

"I understand that expendables are all we are to you! You should just give me a chance to survive out there because I'm not going to make it with those shitheads!"

"I don't care how you get by. All I ask is that you stop questioning what the support center is doing. If they make a mistake, correct them rather than making them feel like they're not worth anything in here," Yemi screamed angrily.

"Yeah...you're not worth shit in here. You threw out the real ones and act as if you know everything. You have no idea what you're doing here. Just another jerk like the others," I retaliated with a spit.

"That's it. You have been relieved of all duties until further notice. You require more time to clear your mind."

Yemi gets up from his seat, opens the door to his office, and motions me out. I stormed out, furious. As I passed Selma, she shook her head, and she just looked away as I approached the elevator.

I wanted to ask Yemi about a couple of things that didn't make sense based on the information I had received about this mission. Unfortunately, he would have dismissed it as a mistake, which I would not have wanted. I, on the other hand, had my own methods of gathering information in a more covert manner.