Hard Man

33

"Don't come at me, Baba."
    — Major General Damola 

Mohammed was shaking badly, and he held the back of the couch to steady himself. He tried to keep it together while watching it all unfold in 3D, but now that it was over, he saw how close Miss Des had been to death.

He was meeting with the junior cadets this afternoon when the General sent a digital link to track Chioma. At first, he'd been pissed because his job wasn't to guard anyone except the General. He hated when the General requested he watch Des, but he gathered his men immediately and tracked her down.

They caught up with her on the highway, and at first, they'd kept their distance. The plan was to wait until Des got to the eatery before picking her up and bringing her back. It got scary when her vehicle started to swerve, causing a ruckus that held up traffic. At that moment, Mohammed's life and work flashed before his eyes. He knew, without doubt, that he would pay dearly for it if anyone touched a single hair on Des' head.

He had a newfound respect for Des, though. If she weren't brave, he would have been too late to save her. She handled the situation like a pro, and he found her locked in the car with a gun to the kidnapper's head.
The living room door opened, and Mohammed snapped up when Major General Damola walked in, his face drawn.

Mohammed was about to do his customary salute when they heard the pounding of footsteps coming down the stairway.

The General's eyes locked on Mohammed, and he shuddered. Gone was the vulnerable man who had stormed into Des' room, his eyes wild with fear and trepidation. This was the General, the leader of the Nigerian army, the stuff nightmares are made of.
"Where's the bastard?" He asked, his voice hard as steel. "I'm going to kill him."

"I-I—" When the General's eyes narrowed, Mohammed gulped and cleared his throat. "I had to get her out of there, sir," he explained. "But the Major General was already arriving at the scene when I left."

The General turned to his friend, who stared back blankly. "Where is he?"

"I've taken him somewhere secure," the Major General answered. "I suggest you—"

"Don't suggest shit to me!" The General interrupted, causing the Major General's eyes to narrow. "Where is he?"

The Major General folded his arms as if to say, "Do your worst." Mohammed sighed. Sometimes, he wondered why these men never did things the usual way. Complications gave them erections, he was sure. He wished the MG would provide the General with the location and be done with it.

"Damola—" the General snarled. "I don't need your advice right now." He stormed towards his friend. "I need you to give me the location of that bastard. I—"

"Don't come at me, Baba," MG Damola warned, but the General didn't stop. When he was close enough, the MG slammed both fists into the General's chest, causing him to stagger back.

"If you don't listen to anyone, you're going to listen to me," the MG growled. "I'm not letting you near that bastard until you're calm. You cannot kill him."

"I can!" The General yelled back. "He fucking touched her!" The veins in the General's neck popped, and Mohammed feared it'd burst. "She had blood on her shirt. She texted me, scared to death. I'm not going to let that slide."

"I won't, too." The MG nodded. "But you cannot kill him, you know it. You're not in the Ore or Ife Kingdom, where you can do anything you like to these men. You're in Abuja. You're a General. An officer of the law," the MG snapped. "You have to follow the rules."

He was right, Mohammed thought.

"I don't care what I am," the General bit back. "He's not going to live; I promise you and him that."