Who else could have told Timmy about his new visitor if not Anita. She dropped the file in front of him and she reminded him a man was waiting for him outside. He nodded like he still had that in mind and after about five minutes he stood up. shut down his laptop and he made it for his restroom, an extension of his office. He washed his hands with soup and when he was done making it clean he used some water on his face. He got his face cleaned up and he used the exit. He took turns till he was in the elevator and soon he was down to the room meant for restricted conversations and brief classified meetings.
A suited guard was already on the floor ready to take care of things and Timmy came up with a tag. It was just protocol. He was checked and he was allowed in.
Mike was on the couch in a gray colored blazer and a blue pants. He had a brown envelope with an inscription.
'Classified' He read with his eyes moving from side to side as he picked the message. Then he sat close to him and he smiled.
"I never wanted to hide my plans."
"I know." Mike replied.
"That's why you had to hire another man to watch Dura. What are you thinking!" Mike yelled.
"Not again... Not just again..." Timmy shock his head. "see there is a lot behind this you do that even get. I don't want you or anyone I know working on this. Where did you get it." Timmy asked, collecting the envelope and shaking out the documents in it.
Mike shrugged, "The person you contacted happened to be my friend. Is it about the extra cash."
"Don't get me wrong. I just want you clear, and now that you know about it. I have no choice than to watch you." Timmy tried explaining.
Mike wasn't just getting it. All he could see was Timmy taking a deal out of his hands. The bigger picture was Timmy keeping him save.
He ended the meeting well, forcing himself to help Timmy spy on Dura's activities.
"Like I said! You have done more good to me than bad. Let me help you spy on Dura." Mike said.
Timmy raised his thumb, priming a gesture. "done." He said firmly and he watched Mike get off the couch.
"I have to see my cousin! Can I?" Mike asked, looking back.
It took Timmy close to a minute before he nodded approval. Then he watched Mike stomp out of the room.
One of the oldest men in a small room, with a standing fan covered with cobwebs and an old ceiling fan rolling noisily meters away from the concrete roof. Daniel Fijabi, he was a retired bus driver one who had walked the length and breath of the whole town. He had been known in the past for taking care of deals only with knifes.
He stood away from the set of boys that played cards and when he was done smoking the last stick of the cigarette he had in hand he rubbed his hairless head.
"Attention please." He said, calling everyone to have an eye on him, hitting his palm against each other.
"I need four boys to help me take care of a dirt." He said, looking around. His eyes fought to stay open as he went in search of one he could hand over the project to.
"Youuuu.. Come." He motioned a guy in a singlet and bandana around his head to come closer and he reached out to his pocket for a white envelope which he handed over to the guy.
"His name is Mike. In that envelope is his picture, address and keys to every room in his house. OK! I want the best job done... okay." He said.
"OK!" the guy responded and he moved back.