Chapter 2

The boardwalk bustled with countless numbers of people enjoying the nighttime atmosphere. Waves uncurled a frothy white against the sandy beach beyond the other side of the street. Jenny smiled, adjusting her gown, giving Scott a good view of her cleavage, and walking proudly, her left arm interlocking with his right.

The streetlights shone a golden glow against the tan-coloured buildings and palm trees. They slowly strolled up the block, turning right onto a boulevard. The next right took them down a dimly lit alleyway, a service lane for the hotel and connected business complexes.

“Let’s get back to Afia, I don’t like being back here,” Jenny said, kissing Scott.

“I know what you mean. It does feel a little spooky,” he agreed, taking the time to embrace Jenny and return her kiss.

Moments later, their kiss was interrupted by the headlights of a slowly approaching car. The car swerved gently left and right, running over several cardboard boxes and stopping against a nearby dumpster.

“Something must be wrong with the driver,” Scott said about the odd vehicle movement.

He and Jenny cautiously approached the car’s front bumper as the driver’s door swung open. Scott recognized it as a silver Mercedes Benz because of the distinctive round ornament in the grill. The engine was still running as a man fell to the ground in obvious pain.

“What’s wrong, mister? Can we help you?” Scott asked, concerned.

The man, breathing heavily, hurried to lean his back against the rear door. He raised his right hand, pointing a gun at them. Scott and Jenny raised their hands, startled by his actions.

“Hold it, we mean you no harm. Are you going to rob us?” Scott’s eyes widened, looking down the barrel. He recognized the weapon as a nine-millimetre semi-automatic pistol, similar to the kind his uncle once sold in his store. He noticed the stranger was wincing in pain, holding his right side.

“I’m not going to rob you,” he said, looking back down the alleyway, then lowering his gun.

“Are you okay, you don’t look well.” Jenny asked as they knelt in front of him.

The man gave a half-hearted laugh and smile, then lowered his left hand, revealing a large bloodstain on his white shirt.

“I’ve had better days,” he kidded, breathing heavily.

Despite the dimly lit lane, the man’s skin seemed to be turning paler than his usual white colour and needed medical attention immediately.

“We should get you to a hospital,” Jenny said, concerned for him.

“There’s no time,” he coughed. “Who are you two?” The stranger asked.

“I’m Scott Richardson.”

“And I’m Jenny Okyere.”

“We’re attending my friend’s wedding reception here at the Samuel Doe Hotel,” Scott replied. This time, the stranger looked in both directions in the alley.

“You should get out of here; very bad trouble is on the way.”

Off in the distance, they could hear the distinctive ‘Eee ... err ... eee ... err,’ sound of foreign police sirens that grew louder and louder.

“I don’t have much time, and I have no other choice but to trust you two. I need you to get some extremely vital information to Accra in Ghana,” he struggled to say, breathing heavily.

“I’m from Accra, Ghana,” Jenny mentioned.

“Are you an American?” He inquired, inspecting Scott.

“No, I’m Canadian.”

“Even better,” he said, reaching into his jacket breast pocket. He slapped a flash drive into Scott’s right hand.

“The Accra Police Department is divided into several sectors. Get this to Deputy Police Chief Abdubney, and only him, as soon as you can. He’ll know what to do. But you must travel only by road. The future of Ghana depends on it. Tell him it’s from Oscar Gautier.”

“What’s it all about?” Scott asked, taking the flash drive from Oscar. He examined it, then closed his hand around it.

“There is a plot by Police Chief Abeeku to assassinate President Grunshi of Ghana during the July 1st Independence Day celebrations.”

“That’s less than a week away!” Jenny gasped.

Scott could recognize the hint of a European accent in the man’s voice. “Why aren’t you flying, or phoning, or texting, or using email, or some other way to send your message to him?” He asked.

“The Police Chief has many friends that support him everywhere. Technology is too easily traceable. I’ve found that out the hard way. I still can’t figure out how they discovered me. The simplest way, by road, was supposed to be the safest, but as you can plainly see, I was wrong.”

“Who do you work for?” Scott asked.

“I can’t tell you; it’s better that you don’t know who my employer is. You can’t contact anyone. No cell phones, no texting, and trust no one, absolutely no one, and I mean it, do not trust anyone! The Police Chief is very corrupt and has friends in high places in many countries.”

Oscar pushed a button on his pistol, and the magazine fell out. He checked the number of bullets he had left and then replaced it. He took another magazine out of his right pocket and added several more loose bullets to it.

“I should have kept my other guns with me. You take my car and get out of here! I’ll hold them off as best I can,” he breathed heavily, wincing in pain. He used the back of his hand to cover a raspy cough, spitting out blood onto the ground.

Oscar clenched his left hand around Scott’s hand, holding the flash drive. “You have to do this; you have no choice!”

“I’m no fancy spy or adventurer, just a normal guy from Canada.”

“Normal guy from Canada, you and your girlfriend have about a minute to decide what to do!” Oscar coughed.

A car sped past the alley and reappeared a moment later. The flashing of blue lights caught their attention.

“Go!! Quickly!!” He urged, taking cover behind the dumpster. Oscar encouraged them by waving his gun-wielding hand. Scott shoved the flash drive down his left sock to the instep.

“Come on!” Scott exclaimed, grabbing Jenny by the hand. The headlights from the approaching car shone on them as they scrambled into the Mercedes. The engine was still running, so Scott shifted into reverse, backed away from the dumpster, slammed the gearshift into drive, and floored the accelerator! The powerful engine screamed, and the tires squealed as they sped away.

Their hearts quickly jumped into overdrive. Dust swirled from behind the car as they sped down the alleyway. Jenny looked anxiously back out the rear window. The flash of several guns lit up the area. Crack, crack, crack! The sound of gunfire echoed off the alley walls.

“They’re shooting at him and shooting at us!” Jenny screamed. Scott looked in the rearview mirror and saw Oscar slump onto the ground, blocking their way. Several bullets hit the brick walls, sending fragments against his car window.

“Holy shit, that’s close!” He yelled. Scott braked hard as he approached the main road.

Scott made sure the way was clear and that no one was walking past him, then quickly turned right, cutting off an approaching car from his left. He caught a glimpse of a street named University Drive. He could feel his pulse pounding in his ears as he sped up.

“Which way do we go?” Scott cried out.

“What do you mean, which way do we go?” Jenny screamed. “How the hell should I know? I’ve never been here before in my life!” She continued, wide-eyed.

“That’s great, the blind leading the blind!”

“This is no time for jokes, Scott!”

His mind raced as he sped down several blocks in his Mercedes. His eyes were like high-speed radar, checking every direction, cautious not to cause an accident with innocent victims.

Jenny continued to be Scott’s eyes to the rear. He used the car horn several times, alerting people about this maniac speeding too close to them.

“They’re following us!” She cried, seeing the flashing blue lights fast approaching.

“Stop, it’s a red light!” Jenny screamed, looking ahead. Scott braked aggressively, just missing a car passing left to right in front of him. It felt like his heart was trying to jump out of his chest! Instinct told him to wait for the light to turn green, but he couldn’t.

“Put on your seatbelt; this isn’t going to be an enjoyable drive!” He said this while buckling his belt.

“What are you waiting for?” She yelled, beating the top of his car seat with her fist. Scott floored the gas pedal, and the rear tires chirped, trying to gain traction. Running the red light, he almost caused an accident with several cars. Two blocks down, he turned right onto Benson Street.

“We have to head for Ghana!” He said. “That should be to the southeast from here! Nobody knows how long it will take! I need to keep the ocean on our right!”

Scott made another right onto Randall Street, then a left onto United Nations Drive, seeing the ocean waves on Jenny’s side.

“Well, here goes,” he muttered, heading the car hopefully away from the police. Jenny continued to be Scott’s eyes to the rear. After a few minutes, he slowed down to the speed limit.

“Why you slowing down?!” She exclaimed, looking behind her once more.

“I may not know how to run from the police, but I do know that if we keep speeding along like this, we’ll attract too much attention and likely kill ourselves in the process. If we drive at a normal speed, we might not be so conspicuous,” he reasoned. “I’m open to any suggestions you might have.” She remained silent, her mind racing, and she constantly looked rearward.

They could hear many police sirens echoing around them and catch a glimpse of several blue flashing lights. “Maybe we’ve lost them,” Scott said after a few minutes of not being detected.

Jenny let out a deep sigh, trying to relax as he drove on. He scanned the instrument panel, noticing an almost full tank of gas.

“Looks like Oscar owned a pretty fancy car,” he remarked, becoming familiar with the interior. “And it must be fairly new to have that new car smell. It only has about 12,000 kilometres on it. You can convert the odometer between kilometres and miles,” he noticed. He increased the air conditioning, sweating bullets with an adrenaline-fueled nervousness.

As they continued to evade the police, they heard the sound of squealing tires. Scott looked in the interior rearview mirror and saw headlights, correcting a sharp left turn only feet behind them.

“They found us!” He said, speeding up. The car was catching up fast, and Scott didn’t know what to do.

“I’m not sure if it’s a police car. There’s only one person inside it,” Jenny said, looking behind her. The car was coming up fast on Scott’s left in the inner double curb lane. He glanced in his outside mirror to notice anything about the car and driver. The glare of the headlights hid their pursuer.

“Maybe he’s an undercover cop in a ghost car,” he said.

He dodged traffic in front of him, changing lanes to keep the pursuing car away. Small motorcycles and bicycles, a cheap and popular form of transportation, were barely avoided. Side streets, buildings, and pedestrians passed by in a blur as they tried to escape. His heart was pounding like a runaway locomotive!

“Is his passenger window down?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because if his right window is down, it probably means he has a gun and will shoot at us!”

“Holy shit!” Jenny trained her eyes on the guy and his car, trying to catch them.

“Do you see anything that might be a gun in his hand?”

“No, and his right window is up!” Their hearts were pounding like a jackhammer!

Scott was clear of vehicle traffic, for now. His hands hurt from gripping the steering wheel so tight! He glanced at the speedometer; he was doing fifty miles per hour on city streets! The chase car was gaining on them again, creeping up closer to Scott’s door. The driver swerved right, trying to ram the Mercedes out of control. Scott reacted, steering right to avoid a collision.

“There’s a red light up ahead! The sign says, Camp Johnson Road!” Jenny shouted, continuing to be Scott’s extra eyes. The busy intersection was fast approaching.

“Scott, Scott ... he’s putting his passenger window down!” Jenny screamed, hitting his right shoulder.

Scott glanced to his left and saw the driver’s passenger car door drawing even with his. The stranger didn’t look where he was driving, staring stone-faced at Scott. He raised his right hand and pointed his gun at him. Sensing he was about to shoot, Scott slammed the brakes hard, and the gun exploded, sending a bullet across the windshield. Jenny screamed, covering her ears. Their attempted killer fired again; a second bullet grazed the chrome pillar on his driver’s door.

“That was way too close!” He shouted.

The stranger aimed his gun at Scott once more, this time for the kill shot. He looked at his assailant, his eyes dark and lifeless like a shark’s. A split-second swerve of the car, and another bullet hit his door frame, even with his head. The stranger sped up, determined to cut the Mercedes off the road.

Scott swerved right to avoid being hit by the madman’s sudden braking. “Scott the red light,” Jenny warned.

Scott sped up, the power of the Mercedes enabling him to pass the car on the right. He continued accelerating, their enemy matching his speed. Both cars were in a drag race towards the red light and busy intersection ahead. The Mercedes flowed effortlessly over the unevenly paved road.

“Scott, the intersection, we’re going to crash!!” Jenny screamed, the whites of her eyes showing.

Scott quickly scanned the intersection and knew what he had to do. He judged his speed and distance from the approaching traffic on his left.

“We have only one chance to do this! It’s either him or us! Hold on!!” He warned.

Their adversary had a clear view of Scott and calmly trained his gun on his head for a fourth and final kill shot. At the last possible moment, Scott shifted the Mercedes into neutral and, using both feet, slammed on the brakes. Their bodies lurched forward, gripped by the ratcheting shoulder belts. The anti-lock braking system kicked in, and Scott could feel the pulsating effects through his shoes.

The Mercedes rapidly slowed down, the front end almost punching the pavement. Scott pushed harder, locking up all four wheels. The tires smoked in vain, trying to halt the car. Their nemesis was slow to react and fired several more rapid shots, continuing on just meters from the intersection.

“Pray that this works!” He yelled.

All four wheels still locked, Scott shifted the Mercedes into reverse and tromped down on the gas pedal. The tires sent four plumes of smoke into the air, reacting to the sudden change in momentum. He looked over his right shoulder, putting his arm behind Jenny’s seat for support. The transmission strained to the breaking point as the reverse gear tried to gain a foothold through the tires on the pavement.

At that moment, there was the sound of a loud truck air horn, then an explosion of glass, metal, and flames. The man, who had been relentless in killing Scott and Jenny, didn’t stand a chance when his car’s direction abruptly changed to sideways after being broadsided by a loaded tractor-trailer rig. The car exploded in a flurry of shattering glass, crunching metal, and flames. Their would-be assassin didn’t feel a thing, dying instantly.

Jenny screamed, seeing the accident before her, “Oh my God, Scott!”

“He was going to kill us,” he justified, his comment trailing off.

“I know,” she somewhat lamented.

The tractor-trailer continued to push the wrecked car, with flames engulfing it and lighting up the neighbourhood. The rear end of the Mercedes rose as it sped in reverse. Car horns blared as traffic behind them attempted to avoid this idiot backing up toward them. He didn’t have to worry about the stranger trying to kill them; his heart and adrenalin pumping out of control would surely do the job.

Almost out of control in reverse, Scott shifted the Mercedes to neutral. He jerked the steering wheel hard right, sending the front end left. At a right angle to the curb, Scott pressed the chrome knob on the parking brake handle and pulled up hard, locking the rear wheels and sending the front end around. Then he pushed hard on the brake pedal, stopping the front wheels. Now facing the way they came, Scott quickly released the parking brake, slammed the gearshift into drive, and accelerated away from the accident scene.