by Samuel Cobby Grant
It was a sombre but severe atmosphere at the quarterly meeting of the intelligence agencies of the nation.
And the nation’s Vice President, Abeiku Sosa by law was the Chairman.
Issah Musah by virtue of him being in charge of the National Security Apparatus was a part of it. So were the heads of all the Intelligence arms of various government departments and agencies.
It was quite understandable that Ghana, being the most powerful nation on earth felt threatened by the middle-income nations of Europe and America. There also were Asian countries especially China and Japan who had formed a strong alliance.
All of Ghana’s missions abroad had had a massive injection of funds and equipment to enable them fight covert wars.
Reliable intel had popped up about various attempts to destabilize the nation and the heads thought it wise to brainstorm to come up with counter ideas.
“I really think we are making too much noise over a storm in a teacup. The white man lacked the financial clout to fight us,” the Veep said.
“Fool,” a young up and coming man, Isaac Gordon said under his breath.
Issah Musah glanced sharply at him as if he had heard him call the Vice President a fool.
“I think we should take all these things seriously. They really haven’t stopped their nefarious acts ever since we bypassed them in all spheres of life,” he said and smiled at Isaac Forson.
“That’s true. The Germans and the British are planning something and we are watching them with eagle eyes,” another young man from MOST said firmly.
Each and everyone at the table was of the view that there was the need to beef up security but the Vice President wanted things to be left as they were. He was in a hurry to meet up with a lady he had met at the School of Renewable Energy and Allied Sciences. He had been imagining all sorts of things he was going to be doing with her when they meet on his yacht.
“Gentlemen,” he said firmly, leaving no room for any interruption, “Let’s adjourn this meeting till the next quarter. We need more convincing evidence to work with,” he stated, picked up the single sheet of paper in front of him and left.
The others had no option but to gather up their files and leave too.
Issah Musah, as soon as he got to the elevator that was to take him out of the underground room they were in, had a message from the President to see him ASAP. He wasted no time and went straight to the Gold House.
He always found himself marvelling at the sheer opulence of the Presidency. There was nothing ordinary about it at all with its 1,957 rooms, it’s 6 storeys. He was ushered in as soon as he got there to the President’s office, the Dan Kɛseɛ.
“I guess the Veep was unreasonable today too,” he said, more as a question than a statement.
It took a while for the man to respond, as the President regarded him gravely. “The man is an ass,” he said gruffly, miffed that the Veep was unknowingly paving the way for detractors to have their way.
President Awuku laughed, sounding amused, “Don’t forget he’s the Vice President,” he said gravely, his eyes betraying his amusement.
But Issah Musah was not to be placated. “And don’t forget that he was forced on you as part of the bargains at your Party’s primaries.
“I know how to handle him. But now, how do we get around him on this,” he said, suddenly serious.
“We need to be proactive. We need to be vigilant and we need to crack the whip on them once in a while,” Issah Musah said.
“Crack the whip, you said?”
“Yes, Mr President. We should withhold loans and aid to them to teach them a lesson.”
“I am relying on you, Musah. Don’t spare any funds on this. Be sure to nip anything in the bud,” the President directed.
“Thank you, sir,” he said.
The President smiled and went on to discuss other things, like hunting and golf of which they were avid enthusiasts. He and the man went a long way and their paths had crossed several times before he became the President.
David Muller had assumed his duties at the German Consulate but still behaved like a tourist. His duties as a FantiGa interpreter allowed him ample time to move around the capital city and its suburbs.
He and Ataa Adjoa had amazingly clicked well. He thought himself lucky to have her give him her attention. They had visited several places of interest and she had never allowed him to pay anything as she kept taunting him with, the meagre salary he received as an interpreter for the German Consulate.
The Vice President, Abeiku Sosa was peeved. He had been sulking the whole day, just because the President had failed to consult him on the construction of the various helipads on the chopper shuttle idea. He had been jealous of the rising popularity of President Awuku and had been trying as much as he could to make himself a very likeable person.
He was of an Old Money Class and had always felt that he should have been the President. The Europeans and Asians knew of his ambitions and had been clandestinely encouraging and funding his political ambitions.
They were now getting impatient with him and had seen rather belatedly that they had backed the wrong horse. Nevertheless, they kept their options open. He made a decision and placed a call.
“Abena, my black beauty, I need pampering,” he said authoritatively.
” I am here, my Prince,” she had replied sensually.
“I am not a damn Prince. I am a King,” he had said in his gruff voice.
“I am sorry, my King. Come for a Kingly ride,” she said quickly in a placatory tone of voice and cut the call to prepare for his arrival.
She dialled a number and said softly, “He’s paying me a courtesy visit.”
“Make sure he spends no less than an hour with you,” a voice commanded her and ended the call.
In about thirty minutes, the Veep’s limo arrived at one of the five luxury apartments he had purchased for his assignations with his concubines, and Abena Dompey, a 25-year-old owner of a massage parlour lived in the best of them.
His cover had always been that he was going for a massage but it was an open secret that he was shagging her.
Abena took him straight to her personal office that formed part of her sleeping quarters.
The bedroom had a beautiful rotund water bed that had a lot of rooms to manoeuvre. He went straight there on arrival and saw that his shot of Hennessy was already on the bedside table.
He took it in straight, stripped and went into the bathroom to freshen up and came out to find Abena Dompey already in bed, naked, waiting.
“Come to Mama, my King” she cooed tantalizingly.
Issah Musah, the Security Capo, as had been the usual norm for 3 years, was taking a dawn stroll to exercise and reflect on issues regarding the security of the state.
He was a slim and sinewy man and there were very noticeable veins on his arms. Though he was in his middle fifties, he was quite strong.
So, when he was suddenly accosted by a young man who was exercising at the beach with a female companion, he proved more than capable of defending himself. He sidestepped him and grabbed his shoulder and with the strength of a jiu-jitsu martial arts fighter, pulled it down dislocating his arm.
Even as he was pulling the arm from its socket, his other hand had located the windpipe and was squeezing it with his strong fingers.
The young man’s female companion quickly drew a small gun from her pocket and shot him with it. The poisoned dart hit his arm and he fell instantly unconscious.
Together, they held him by his feet and pulled him towards the sea.
“Hey! Did you see that?” Ataa Adjoa exclaimed. She had seen a splash.
She had gone to the beach house with David Muller for the weekend. They had been spending a lot of time together but it was devoid of any romantic attachments though David had tried to kiss her once but she had turned her face away at the last minute and had caressed his face sympathetically.
“Did I see what?” he asked, staring at her. She stared back at him. Even at that moment, she loved his candid and guileless nature.
“I thought I saw something in the sea but am not so sure,” she said, her voice trailing off.
“Maybe you really need a swim,” he said and tried to drag her towards the on-rushing waves.
Laughing, she ran off with him in hot pursuit. She ran till she got to a part of the beach where the sandy ground wasn’t as smooth as the rest of the beach.
It was as if there had been a struggle. It seemed to her that something heavy had been dragged along that part of the beach. She stood still pondering over it till the angry waves swept over her feet and cleaned up the place reverting it back to normal.
David got to her then and swung her onto his shoulders to carry out the threat of putting her in the sea. A mighty wave hit them and he being unbalanced, fought to regain his stand.
Another mighty one hit them and they fell, spluttering and gasping for air. They struggled out amid laughter.
“I will have my revenge pɛɛ,” she said, attempting to push her down but he dived into the sea and appeared behind her and held her from behind. They horse played for a while, enjoying themselves in the refreshing sea.
None of them noticed the periscope of a submarine that had shot up to observe them. It slid down after a little while into its housing.
Their swimming went on uninterrupted till they were tired. Then they went to the Chalet to rest for the next agenda on their weekend itinerary.
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AREWAH WRITING CONTEST 2022