NewStats: 3,263,948 , 8,182,030 topics. Date: Sunday, 08 June 2025 at 11:26 PM 1k6w4p

Wishing you the same. I write fictional stories. I wanna write for public consumption.

Happy new year, y'all.

dewalt:
Have you written and waiting to be published or you are still dreaming of becoming a writer? Not on nairaland anyway

I'm dreaming of becoming a published writter.

I'm here. Though I'm not using this to write. I use Eazyboi.

adegwurulez:
Eazyboi this is great. There is something about the way you write. So simple yet intellectually deep. Keep it up.

I concur, the biggest boss.

tecno4life:

lemme help you:
it's "12 inchesX5inches JOYSTICK

Na taperule u take measure am abi na ruler?

tecno4life:

I thought u just said "ghost mode activated
and stop using RYBACK's voice cause CM PUNK is the best in the world *in cm punks voice* "IT's clobbering time*
D9ty7 I thought u said u were back, looks more like u're front naw

CM PUNK for where? Na me be Best in the world ooooo. Even CM PUNK no go fit stand me. Anyway, where is D9ty7 na?

princesssusan:

Nawah 4 u o, if u c death u fit stand?

Abeg, help me ask am ooooo.

Ghost mode deactivated. **removes mask** BestInDeeWorld was here. #IN RYBACK'S DREADFUL TONE# D9ty7, get well soon. **puts on mask** Ghost mode activated.

TemitopeDaniel: Really? I said it! That's why we are d best in d world. But, I don't like dah name..

Ah, u beta like it. Me, I like it so much dat I only use it in special cases. A-BI-MI-BA-OLA

Temitope Daniel Abimbola Guy, u be namesake. Anyways, glory be to almighty God for this piece. I THANK GOD AND I THANK YOU! May Oluwa bless u for me.

Temitope, Temitope, Temitope, Hw many times I call you?



This ur updates ar way too short. They're nt even enough to touch my sides. I dey vex ooooo.

God save u T.Dan say Pemisire nd that fool called Helen no die. I for show u pepper.

T.dan, I stand on a bottle of gulder. I anoint myself wit don simon. I my anointing wit dat of bacchus nd I speak wit d power vested in me by baileys dat anyone dat says u aren't going places would be swept into d dust bin d way a woman sweeps dirt into the dust bin.

If u believe T.Dan is going places click 'like'. Hw many likes for him?

MORNING Y'ALL

Chai, dis silly Helen don carry Pemisire enter one chance. May God save dem ooooo

Mr. Tee-Dan, u've being found guilty of killing Pemisayo, Davies and Christiana. Therefore, I hereby sentence you to...



Hungry for more update, bro.

TemitopeDaniel: Please try to drop a comment, Please! To sit and type isn't easy, appreciate me by dropping a comment. When you do that, it gives me d zeal to perform more.


I beg u in the name of God don't be a silent reader, criticize if any error has been found, Please! Encourage me by dropping a comment.


I beg again, PLEASE!

I Don Hear! I Go Try Comment Sha!! More Ink To Your Pen!!!

[b] CHAPTER 9
JOHANNESBURG, SOUTH-AFRICA.

Jack checked his rolex wrist-watch. It was 6:30pm which meant that all the cafés and nightclubs would soon be rocking. The street was already getting crowded and Tee-man and his team hadn't arrived yet. Jack was still looking at the car parked downstairs. Two of the occupants had left to their hotel room which was in the same hotel Jack was. He was still clicking off pictures at a fast rate of five frames per second when another man entered the scene from the right. He had on a black leather jacket, a blue jean tros, a pair of white trainers and a red baseball hat.

Jack gave him a second look. Everything about him matched the satellite photo he had seen back home. When he was called upon to take up the case by Agatha, he simply went to the scene of the blast with a map which showed where everyone was on that day. Even though the great hold created had been filled, it was still obvious what had happened. He had gone to the big tree Agent Claire had reported seeing a man prior to the blast and had found something interesting.

A bottle of Table Mountain wine. Everyone else was looking at this case from the angle of different terrorist groups but Jack was going to look the other way. He was going to look at it from the bottle. From the satellite pictures taken before the blast, they had captured the man with the bottle which meant that he was a wine snob from one of the mediterranean countries of Africa since he was a black man.

From the news report, Jack had learnt there was no body parts on the scene apart from the victims's and no body parts meant remote detonation. For a 105 pounds explosive to be sneaked into the country, it meant an expert was involved. And that was where Jack was looking into. The world of expert contract killers. It was a world he knew so well and from the clue he got from the bottle, he and his team had been jumping from one mediterranean country to another pretending as either couple on their honeymoon or tourists. From Angola to Namibia to Botswana, now South-Africa.

So, seeing this man now, he knew he was homing in on the truth and with time and patience, he would get to the root.

*** [/b]

[b] CHAPTER 8
JOHANNESBURG, SOUTH-AFRICA.

'Who the f+ck are these guys?' A frown creased Jack's brow as he pressed the camera's trigger all the way down snapping at a rate of five pictures per second. He was busy watching the guys in the car and also the building across the street from the open window of his hotel room.

At first, he had made the assumption that the guys were local cops and had sent their pictures to Mark, a computer whiz in Nigeria who hacked into the South-African police authority's database but had come up with nothing. Then his suspicion about them was aroused. They had talked to the café owner earlier on and stuffed cash into his pocket. That was when Jack knew that they weren't police. Security operatives don't go around stuffing raw cash into people's pockets. He tried to read their lips but they weren't speaking English nor French.

He always dropped to the floor to do a little push-up at fifteen minutes interval just to stay alert. The alternative was to drink excessive amount of coffee which meant frequent visit to the toilet which also meant that he would miss a lot of things.

His motorola phone which laid on the bed rang but he didn't have to leave his position in front of the window. There was a wireless bluetooth in his left ear and all he had to do was tap it and the device which picked up his voice through his ear vibration allowed whoever he was speaking with to hear him.

'Hello Tee-man, where on earth are you?' he asked tapping the bluetooth.
'Sorry Jack, it's Mark' the caller replied.
'Oh! So what have we got?'
'The man we're looking for, I think, is a hired gun'
'Really?'
'Yeah! I think he was hired by someone from the inside'
'Okay, thanks. Anything else?'
'Jack, one more thing. The man is a sniper. He is wanted in the Hague'

Jack froze. The mention of 'sniper' made his hair stand on ends. And then he swore out loud.
'Any problem?' Mark asked.
'Next time, you might want to get to that part first!'
'What part?'
'Never mind. I'll call you later'
'Okay. Best of luck'

Very few things rattled Jack and snipers was on top of the list. The good ones could shoot you from kilometres away. That was hardly a fair fight. Now, he knew he had to change his tactics a bit. He just wished Tee-man and his crew would arrive on time. Ruth had gone to pick them from the airport.

* * * [/b]

Divepen, D9ty7, TemitopeDaniel, Queenxtar, Dorisbest, SammyHoe, Mimiboygreat, Mescopaul, TheRock5555, Flakkydagirl, Coolval, Dygeasy, TifannyJ, uchebest2006, LarryVercetti, Tosdam61, Ayonbobo, noble4d, I salute thee. I'm back fully. Hope I'm doing the right thing?

[b] CHAPTER 7
TRANSCORP HILTON HOTEL ABUJA, NIGERIA.

It was 01:00am in the morning. The party has ended and all the guests had gone home. Michael still stayed at the hotel in the room he had booked earlier. It was a presidential class hotel room with two bedrooms with a big king size bed each and a sitting room complete with room service. Even though he was slightly drunk, he still managed to get himself up to the room.

As he settled in bed to sleep, he heard a knock on the door and wondered who would be disturbing him at this time of the night but, nevertheless, he still went to open the door and who he saw made a cold shiver run down his spine. He looked at the man with surprise written all over his face.

Jones Oyeleke was an eternally tan billionaire who had fled the country when security operatives discovered he was dealing in arms and since then, he had been looking for a way to get pardon. He walked into the room holding a bottle of Bordeaux wine. He never went anywhere without a bottle or two of that. He flashed Michael a devilish grin and made himself comfortable in one of the cushion chairs in the sitting room.

'What is the purpose of your visit?' Michael asked with shaky voice.
'May we atleast drink before talking business?' Jones snapped.
'I'ld rather get it out of the way'

Jones ignored him and grabbed two wine glasses. Opening the bottle, he poured two glasses, gave one to Michael and kept one for himself.

Michael had only taken two sips when Jones gave voice to Michael's fear saying what he dreaded to hear.

'I've come to ask about my pardon'

* * * [/b]

Divepen: Are we stopping here?

No comments, nothing. I was discouraged so I needed to stop