Chapter 11

Scott parked across the street, close enough to see the main entrance to police headquarters. Sula had Jenny put on the light blue short skirt, open jacket, and low-cut bra. Sula wore her teal-green club dress.

“No decent man can resist two beautiful, sexily dressed women,” Jenny said as she spritzed each of them with new perfume. Scott used Sula’s phone and looked up the phone number for police headquarters. She placed it on speaker and dialled the number.

“Hello, yes, my name is Sula Richardson. I would like to speak with Deputy Chief Abdubney, please,” she asked.

“I’m sorry, he just left his office. Wait a moment; I’ll see if I can catch him.”

“What do we do now?” Jenny asked.

“I’m sorry, he’s gone. Would you like me to tell him you called? I have your number showing on my phone.”

Sula looked to Scott, who nodded. “Yes, please. It’s so, so very important that I speak to just him.” Sula ended her call.

“Now what do we do?” Jenny looked from Sula to Scott.

“Plan B! We have to take him!” Scott stated.

“There he is!” Jenny pointed. They saw Chief Abdubney hurry to his police car and drive off in haste.

“Jenny, you drive! Follow him! Scott, you please take the front seat!” Sula directed.

“I can’t catch up to him, he’s going too fast! He’s at least a few blocks ahead of us!”

“You have too!” Sula stressed.

“Okay, we can catch him!” Jenny pressed down more on the gas pedal. The Mercedes struggled to downshift and picked up speed. Jenny threw caution to the wind and drove with one hand on the horn. She dodged and darted around traffic that wouldn’t move for her. She moved along the road as if she were possessed by someone.

Several blocks passed. “Look, he’s stopped at a red light!” Sula pointed. Stay a few cars behind. We don’t want him to know we’re following him!” Scott said.

“That’s a switch, us following the police instead of the other way around,” Jenny joked.

The light turned green, and they proceeded. “I wonder where he’s going?” Sula asked.

Several turns later, the Police Chief parked by an intersection and stepped from his car.

“Pull up to him,” Scott said.

Chief Abdubney was about to cross the street when a black car blocked his way. Scott jumped out, opening the rear door. Sula’s sexy, slender legs greeted the Chief’s vision.

“Chief Abdubney, I need you to get in the car, please,” he urged. They stood eye to eye, Scott noting his dark blue police uniform.

“I will do nothing of the sort! How dare you stop me!”

Jenny’s left hand gripped the butt of the gun in the door side pocket, just in case.

“Chief Abdubney, I called your office; we need to talk to you, it literally is a matter of life and death!” Sula stated. Scott noticed his nine-millimetre pistol in its holster.

Sula’s exquisite frame, seated in the back, drew the Chief’s attention. Her short skirt ended under her ass. She twisted her upper body, exposing a generous amount of breasts through the low opening of her dress. She shifted her body to the left, patting the empty space. Her open legs gave him a clear view of her bare pussy.

“I implore you, Sir!” She added.

“We don’t want to force you, please, Sir!” Scott pleaded.

“What is this all about?” He demanded.

“We will tell you once you come with us!” Sula enticed him by barely touching her exposed pussy with her fingers.

Scott put his left hand lightly on the Chief’s right shoulder. “We mean you no harm, Sir. A man’s life lies in the balance of your helping us,” he said quietly.

Reluctantly, Chief Abdubney got in the back seat, and Scott sat beside him. He surprised the Chief, taking his pistol from the holster. He dropped the magazine, seeing it filled with bullets, then cocked the action, ejecting a bullet from the chamber. He handed the empty gun back to the chief. “Just so that we are all safe.”

Jenny made several turns and headed for the Canadian Commission.

“What is the meaning of all this, and who are you, people? You can get a lengthy prison term for abducting a Police Chief!”

“First of all, we didn’t abduct you. We didn’t hold a gun to your head and force you to join us,” Scott said.

Chief Abdubney viewed Sula’s scantily clad body as she shyly smiled at him. “How do I know you’re not armed?”

“Look at me, Chief Abdubney; all I have on is my dress. How could I possibly hide a gun on me?” Sula swept her dress open, revealing her bare breasts. She took his right hand and boldly guided it to her pussy. “How can I possibly hide a gun on my body?” She felt his finger probe her slit. “Do you think I hid a gun inside my pussy?”

“Definately not!”

“My name is Sula Richardson, and I’m from Harper, Liberia.”

“I’m Jennifer Richardson, and my home is here in Accra.”

“And I’m Scott Richardson, from Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada.” The chief followed each introduction.

“Are you three related?”

“I am Scott’s wife.”

“I’m also Scott’s wife,” Sula announced.

“We were married in Liberia.”

“You have two wives?” Looking at Scott, the Chief inquired.

“The reason for this meeting is that we have information for you from Oscar,” Jenny started.

“I’m not familiar with any Oscars! Wait a minute, you mean Oscar Gautier?”

“Yes, that’s him,” Jenny confirmed.

“That cannot be; he is dead. He was murdered three days ago by...” The chief looked at Scott and then at Jenny. “You’re the Canadian and the Ghanaian that the Liberian Police are looking for! You killed Oscar and the undercover policeman.”

“We didn’t kill either one!” Scott snapped.

“I think Oscar was far from being a tourist from Belgium,” Jenny mentioned.

“That Liberian National Policeman, Uatu Iambi, is very corrupt and has murdered many innocent people, including my uncle,” Sula justified.

“Iambi died in a car crash with a big truck while trying to kill us. I wouldn’t be surprised if they shot at his burnt body to say we shot and killed him,” Jenny reasoned.

“Chief Abdubney, Oscar died so that we could get this vital information to you.”

“It can’t be more vital than me attending the biggest drug bust the Accra Police Department has made this year,” he countered.

“Oscar’s information is so vital, Sir, that it will define the remainder of your police officer career and spare our country from untold anguish,” Jenny began.

She took the flash drive out of her left bra cup. “Oscar said to trust only you. This flash drive contains information about a plot by your Deputy Police Chief Abeeku to assassinate President Grunshi during the Independence Day celebrations on July 1st.”

“How can that be?” He tried to take the drive from Jenny, but she put it back in her bra cup.

“You can have it once we are inside the Canadian Commission,” Scott said.

“Why are you driving there?”

“When I was preparing for my African vacation, I was told that if I had any trouble, to go to the nearest Canadian Embassy, Consulate, or Commission. My wives and I need protection until our innocence can be proven,” Scott explained.

“These ruthless people may also be watching my parents’ home and my girlfriend’s home for us to make an appearance. I have no doubt they’d kill us all,” Jenny added.

“So you state that you didn’t kill Oscar?”

“No, and we didn’t shoot the policeman either. He died in a car and truck accident while trying to kill us. That means there are people loyal to him and your police chief still in Monrovia. Oscar offered us his car as a means of escape. We’ll give you everything that he had in it, including two guns that haven’t been fired,” Scott said.

Sula rested her left hand on her leg, her fingers invitingly close to her bare pussy. She then rubbed her pussy with her fingers, separating her lips, and smiled at the chief, who was gazing at her body.

“You have to believe us,” she pleaded.

“We will see. I’ll look at the evidence first.” The chief’s cell phone chirped. Scott looked at him. “I must answer this call. I was supposed to oversee the drug bust.” Scott relented, having no choice. “Deputy Chief Abdubney. No, I won’t be able to attend. I’ve been called away on urgent police business. Give me a full briefing tomorrow morning.” Then he stopped his call. “For now, to honour Oscar and our President, I’ll give you all the benefit of the doubt.”

On the remainder of the way to the Canadian Commission, Scott and Jenny recounted to the Chief their meeting with Oscar and escape from Monrovia.

“I remember the report stating the car in question was silver, not black? How did you manage to get past the border guards of two countries?” The chief asked.

“We had allies who supported our determination to meet you,” Jenny said.

“And your passports and travel visa?”

“My passport is real,” Sula said.

“And ours are forged, as they had to be in order to reach you,” Scott confessed. “I would compare it to your undercover police using forged documents to catch criminals.”

“Then you are in Ghana illegally,” the chief stated.

“Scott and Jenny are honouring the murder of my uncle and your friend, Oscar,” Sula added.

“I’m the only one here illegally. Jenny is, after all, a Ghanaian citizen. Our passports and belongings are still somewhere in Monrovia,” he said.

“So by these means, you can justify breaking the law?” The chief directed.

“Yes, to save the life of your president. We didn’t ask for this to happen to us. In this situation, it was required to get this information to you,” Scott justified.

“Who helped you obtain your documents and change the colour of your car?”

“I will not let innocent people be incriminated until all this has been resolved and they are not punished,” Scott defended. The Chief continually gazed at Sula’s body, having a clear view of her bare pussy. She smiled at him and teased her pussy for his pleasure.

Jenny parked the car in front of the Canadian Commission. Sula exited the rear seat, taking Chief Abdubney’s left hand. He gazed at her sexy body from head to toe. The Chief saw Jenny for the first time. His eyes widened at the sight of her short, tight skirt and matching jacket, which revealed her low-cut black bra.

Scott took Jenny by the hand, following. “I love the look of Sula’s ass in her short, tight dress,” she commented to Scott.

“Same here,” he smiled.

Scott felt more at ease, noticing the coat of arms of the Canadian High Commission mounted beside the door. He entered, followed by the rest, and was met by a young man.

“We’re about to close for the day,” he stated.

“Hi there, I’m Scott Richardson,” he said, offering his right hand.

“I’m David Wilson,” he replied, accepting his greeting.

“These are my wives, Jennifer and Sula,” Scott introduced. David raised his eyebrows at the comment and the scantily clad, sexy-looking women.

“And this is Deputy Police Chief Abdubney.”

“Yes, I have met Chief Abdubney in the past.”

“Mr. Wilson, I’m a Canadian citizen who needs help from my government. We need to speak to the High Commissioner immediately.”

“He has a meeting to attend for upcoming Canada Day celebrations.”

“This is an important matter that has international implications and gravely affects the Ghanaian government,” Jenny stated, stepping forward. David eyed her revealing cleavage.

“You wouldn’t want to see the Canadian government not assist one of its citizens on foreign soil?” Sula added, her cleavage also catching his gaze.

David looked to Chief Abdubney. “If the information they hold is true, the Ghanaian government will be indebted to these three and Canada for many years. I suggest you get the High Commissioner.” David thought for a moment, then excused himself.

Scott gazed around and noticed a newspaper article with his and Jenny’s picture on it.

He showed it to her, and she turned it face down on the table.

A few minutes later, a tall, grey-haired man approached, accompanied by David. The man spied the foursome, especially Sula and Jenny. “I’m Stewart Mackenzie, the Canadian High Commissioner to Ghana.” The four introduced themselves.

“David told me there is a brewing situation of the utmost importance.”

“If it’s alright, I’d sooner talk to just you, Mr. Mackenzie,” Scott said.

“David has top secret clearance. Lock the door so we’re not disturbed.” He locked the front door and returned to the High Commissioner’s side.

“I am a Canadian citizen, and we three, through no fault of our own, have been thrust into a situation of unbelievable consequences. A benefit of the last few days is that I’m now married to two wonderful, incredibly brave women. We’ve been shot at and chased halfway across Liberia for information that will have deadly results for Ghana if not acted upon.”

Mr. Mackenzie scanned the other three as Scott spoke.

Scott held Sula’s hand, and Jenny took the flash drive out of her bra cup, handing it to him. “High Commissioner Mackenzie, we need your help. I am concerned for my own and my wives’ lives. We want you to witness the handover of this flash drive to Deputy Police Chief Abdubney. One man has already died trying to deliver it to the chief. It contains information about a plot by Police Chief Abeeku to assassinate the President of Ghana during the Independence Day celebrations on July 1st.”

Scott paused a moment and handed the drive back to Jenny. “It should be you, Jenny; after all, Ghana is your homeland.”

“Thank you very much, my husband, for such a wonderful gesture.”

“I implore you, Chief Abdubney, to save the life of our beloved president!” Jenny said, placing the flash drive in the chief’s right hand. Tears of emotion welled in her eyes. Scott gave a big sigh of relief, and tears pooled in his eyes as well, as they had fulfilled Oscar’s dying request.

“We made it! We did it!” He exclaimed, hugging both his brides. Sula’s short dress rode up high, revealing her bare ass cheeks. The High Commissioner and Chief couldn’t help but notice and smile.

“Is this true, that President Grunchi’s life is in danger?” Commissioner Mackenzie asked, looking at Chief Abdubney.

“I will have to confirm that this information is credible,” he said, holding up the flash drive. “Their story of escape and endurance to meet me would ordinarily be suspicious. However, my long-time friend, Oscar Gauthier, died so that this device could be placed in my hands. We are also a just society, and you three are considered innocent until proven guilty. But make no mistake: if this is an elaborate hoax and you did murder Oscar, your freedom will be brief, and death will be your punishment very soon!”

“We understand,” the trio said in unison.

“Now I recognize your faces from the newspaper articles. There’s an international hunt for you two! You’re the Canadian and Ghanaian wanted by the Liberian Police for two murders in Monrovia!” David remarked.

“Which they didn’t commit,” Sula defended.

“How on earth did you escape from the police and army guards, across two countries here to Accra?” Mr. Mackenzie wondered.

“A lot of it was pure dumb luck!” Scott lightly laughed.

“My husband is being very modest. You should have seen the driving manoeuvres he performed to escape from our would-be killer. Actions right out of a thrilling action movie,” Jenny praised.

“And my wife, Sula, is fluent in French and has saved our butts several times from the border guards. Most of all, it was incredible teamwork by us three. We are family and protect each other,” Scott offered proudly.

“Deputy Chief Abdubney, the Canadian government is at your disposal for any assistance you may require.”

“Thank you, Sir, I’m sure it will be needed. There are suspects in Monrovia that would need to be apprehended. I can contact our Ghanaian Embassy in Monrovia for assistance.”

“There is no doubt that our enemies have all our belongings, passports, and travel visas,” Jenny mentioned.

“Ordinarily, suspects would be held in detention for further questioning. I don’t want to contribute to an international incident any more than has already happened. Though, in this case, I’d lean towards placing them in protective custody just to make sure there are no threats to them.”

“I agree with you, Chief Abdubney, they should be considered innocent until proven guilty,” Mr. Mackenzie stated, his stares at Jenny and Sula’s sensual figures becoming too obvious.

“Now to find a safe place for you three, can you help in this instance, High Commissioner?” The chief asked.

“We’re only a High Commission, not an Embassy, and not even a Consulate. We have no safe house, so to speak. We have a beachfront hotel suite for stranded tourists and visiting dignitaries. We’ve never needed very much security before.”

“I will tend to it. There will be a police presence outside your door until I say otherwise,” Deputy Chief Abdubney stated.

Scott returned the gun magazine and extra bullet to the chief. He inserted the mag and holstered his weapon. Scott and Jenny handed the chief their passports and visas. “Quite good forgeries,” he commented on Scott’s and Jenny’s documents.

“I will need a new passport and visa unless my original ones can be found in Monrovia,” Scott mentioned.

“When can I call my parents and girlfriend to let them know I’m here and safe?” Jenny asked.

“And when can I call my family back in Canada?”

“And my family in Liberia?” Sula asked.

“It will take most of the night to verify this information. I will use a Colonel in the Ghana Army that I know and trust to help me. I don’t know how fast we’ll have a plan in place. At this point, I am trusting very few police officers. If all the information is true, I’ll meet with you tomorrow morning and let you know if you’ll be able to contact your families. As a precaution, I will have our undercover surveillance team ensure no one is watching your families.”

“I have been calling my parents by pay phone about our progress. Just a few words each time,” Sula said.

“Send one text message to your parents saying all is safe and you will contact them tomorrow and then turn off your phone, please,” Chief Abdubney cautioned.

High Commissioner Mackenzie informed the Horizon Beach Hotel staff that the Canadian Suite would now be in use for several stranded tourists. He secured the residence, leading them to the hotel. Scott, Jenny, and Sula gazed at the sprawling, luxurious layout of the hotel. The walls are a brilliant white stucco, with palm trees and several fountains.

“Wow!” The trio commented. Their room had an open concept, with double doors leading out onto a balcony. French doors led to two bedrooms. The first room contained a king-sized bed and furniture with a balcony; the second room contained a queen-sized bed. The kitchen and living room were immense and decorated in neutral colours.

“I will have David do a quick grocery order,” Mr. Mackenzie said.

“I’d love to have a good feed of KFC, if possible. I saw a store on the way here,” Scott mentioned.

“I’m sure I can arrange that,” Mr. Mackenzie said with a smile.

Scott went to their luggage. He opened Sula’s suitcases for inspection. He emptied the ammo magazines from the Springfield Armory and the Glock 17 guns, laying them and the extra ammo on the bed. Alongside, he placed everything that belonged to Oscar: passports, clothing, the remaining cash, and the keys to the Mercedes.

“I’m afraid the transmission in the Mercedes may be damaged because of our escape from Monrovia. Plus, its original colour is silver, not black.” He placed his wallet and both of the girls’ purses on the bed.

“I noticed the paint looked unusual and was peeling off,” the chief remarked.

“Chief Abdubney, you may conduct a thorough search of us. We have nothing to hide from you. This is all that was in Oscar’s car, minus some cash we used for travel expenses. He had around 5,000 to 7,000 dollars.”

The chief examined the guns. “You can have them tested, and you will discover that they’re clean and haven’t been fired recently,” Scott stated.

“You never fired them?” He inquired, turning his head to Scott.

“I almost did a few times, but this isn’t like in the movies.” The chief picked up the money. “David, will you please count out this cash so we can document the exact amount?”

“Of course I will.”

Scott admired the honesty of Chief Abdubney. He could have just as easily pocketed the cash, and no one would have known the difference. David had the money spread out on the table.