SITA
The sun's rays hit my closed eyes. I blinked hard as I opened my eyes slowly. I yawned and stretched myself. I picked up my phone and dialed Amina's number.
"Hello Amina, I won't be able to make it to the conference today. Just send on someone to represent me or better still you go. Something came up. I have an important issue to attend to."
"But…" The line went dead immediately I was done interrupting Amina. I immediately got ready and made for the reception.
"Are you leaving us already, Miss Sita?" the receptionist said, her tone sad.
"Yes, I have a home business to attend to. I'll be back in a few days probably. My secretary will come and check me out later in the day "I walked out of the hotel and entered a white Mercedes.
"Hello, Sita. Any update?" Baba's voice came through.
"Not really, but shouldn't I be the one to ask you about that?"
"Oh, my bad. It seems whoever is helping out the guy, had been careful enough to conceal their footprints since Abobo."
"Have you tried accessing the prison's records to know who exactly he is working with?"
"We did try but it seems the information has been classified 'PRIVATE'. Which means I'm powerless to obtain them. It might take a month or two for us to access the files and by then, it will be too late."
"Okay, I guess I'll have to pay Adjame a short visit before heading to Abobo."
"I'm counting on you."
"And I on your money." I dropped the phone gently on the passenger's seat and stepped on the accelerator.
By the time the plane landed at Felix Houphouet-Boigny International Airport, the sun had already gone past the center of the sky by far. I boarded a taxi which drove me to the bustling city of Adjame. The journey approximately 30 minutes.
I had reserved a hotel on my way, the hotel was located on the outskirts of town. A quiet place was something I needed to work on. I went to the hotel's restaurant after changing my clothes. I waited patiently for the night to fall while I ate.
The Adjame prison was dimly lit. The moon reflected its rays in the eerily silent corridors. The only sounds that were heard were the occasional hum of a distant security camera and the rhythmic tapping of my footsteps as I moved with precision and caution.
I slipped into the building, the shadows embracing me as I navigated the narrow hallway. The faint glow of emergency lights cast long, distorted shadows on the walls, providing just enough illumination to guide me. My widow gown enabled me to smoothly blend with the shadows.
I approached the first checkpoint, a security door with a keypad lock. Crouching beside it, I pulled out a small device from my bag. With a few swift movements, I connected the device to the keypad. The screen flickered and then displayed a series of numbers.
"Just a matter of time," I whispered to myself, fingers flying over the keys.
The door clicked open, and I slipped inside. This was the easy part. The real challenge lay ahead in the records room, buried deep within the building's labyrinthine structure. And if what I had heard of the prison was true, then I was going to need all my IQ to get past the security.
As I advanced, I avoided the gaze of surveillance cameras, moving precisely through their blind spots. After a few movements, I was able to memorize their patterns and timed my steps perfectly. My heart pounded in my chest, but my mind remained focused. Any misstep could be very deadly.
Reaching the door marked "Archives," I took a moment to steady my breath. This was it. I knew the information I needed was somewhere within these walls, buried in a sea of documents. But since what I needed was classified, it wasn't going to be hard to find. Another lock barred my way, but I was prepared. I quickly bypassed it with a custom tool designed for picking digital locks.
The door swung open, and I was greeted by rows of filing cabinets and shelves stacked with dusty folders and ledgers. The room smelled of old paper and metal. I pulled out a small flashlight, its beam cutting through the gloom, and began scanning the labels.
"Prisoner records… Incidents… Transfers…" I murmured, my eyes darting from one file to another. I knew the convict's name had been expunged from all public records, but a slip, a hidden note, anything could lead me to the truth.
I stopped at a cabinet labeled "CLASSIFIED" It was locked, but I made quick work of the simple mechanism. Pulling the drawer open, I started flipping through the files. My breath caught when I saw a file marked with a red stripe.
"Finally," I whispered, pulling the file free.
Opening it, I scanned the pages. The convict's name, photos, and incident reports filled the pages. But something was off. Several sections had been edited, and some pages were missing entirely. I frowned, the thought that they had outsmarted me was frustrating.
My attention was caught by a handwritten note at the bottom of a page, which I had almost overlooked. It mentioned a transfer to a "facility undisclosed by order of higher authority." My eyes narrowed. This at least gave me a lead on where to start, though it didn't specify where I was to start.
Carefully, I photographed the documents, ensuring I captured every detail. The sound of footsteps in the hallway made me freeze. Quickly, I slipped the file back into its pland silently closed the drawer, and turned off my torch. I hid quietly among the shadows.
The door handle rattled. I ducked behind a large cabinet, my breath shallow, my hand on the small dagger I carried for emergencies. The door creaked open, and a guard stepped inside, his flashlight scanning the room. He lingered for a moment, then, seemingly satisfied, closed the door and moved on.
I waited until the guard's footsteps faded away before emerging from, my hiding spot. I released a sigh of relief and quickly made my way out of the archives. Every second felt like an hour as I retraced my steps back to the exit.