STORY: FRANCIS IS ALIVE - EPISODE 19 [BY LORD EBAY]

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When Francis firstly opened his eyes, he found himself belted to a seat. His eyes weren’t clear enough but he did see some men carrying stuffs about. His eyes closed again. He was on a plane and they were preparing to fly. Sonican’s voice was loud enough for him to hear but he couldn’t concentrate, it was more like a dream.

He resumed to his sleep.

It was back at Soul Lounge when he had gone over to James Bond’s table that Sonican drugged his wine. It was a substance that wouldn’t begin to work immediately but would eventually have a lasting effect. There were five of them aboard the plane; the two pilots, other three men, Sonican herself and the abducted Francis they were to fly in the Beechcraft turboprop.

The turboprop went in the air from a grassy runway that was not under surveillance. They shot through the harmattan cloudiness around eight in the morning and balanced well at their chosen altitude. Sonican sat next to the unconscious Francis and she glanced at him spontaneously.

“Your call, sweetheart,” she said to him once, not minding that he was unconscious.

Silently they flew on, the men finally falling asleep. But before long, the jet began to rock, and on and on it did.

Sonican stood and groped to the pilots’ cabin.

“What’s wrong? Is it turbulence or something?” she asked worriedly.
“Worry not ma’am,” replied one of them cockily, “we’ll get you where you want.”
“You better do,” Sonican muttered and then returned to the passengers’ cabin to find the seat where she had left Francis empty. The other guys were still asleep. So on a whim, she groped for her gun but it was too late, the sound of a revolver’s hammer being cocked clicked behind her.
“Take the gun out slowly,” James Bond said. “Swing it across to that end, now!”

She obeyed.

“On your knees! Your hands behind your head, slowly.”

She conformed.

Then the uninvited stranger appeared in her view with Francis strapped to his chest like a bag. He wouldn’t be able to move well if Sonican attacked him but she’ll have to calculate how she’ll not get a bullet in the process. She had not seen this James Bond in action but she had seen that Francis gave him quite a magnitude and for him to have appeared there with them on the plane midflight justified the importance Francis had attributed to him. But of course Sonican would rather die than see Francis taken away; she had to make a surprise move.

James Bond heaved to the emergency exit and smiled at Sonican. “If I had known you before,” he told her, “I would’ve created space for you on this operation but since we’re on opposite ends now, we’ll just have to remain so. But if peradventure, you’re interested in working for me sometime in the future, this is the point where you say so and I’ll find you.”
“Fuck you,” Sonican snarled.
“Okay then, your decision is understood.”

Sonican shook her head and smiled briefly.

“Is it that funny?”
“You can’t yank open a plane’s door midflight, fool. Don’t you know the cabin pressure won’t allow it? We’re here together till landing. That’s what’s funny, seeing that you’ve thought you could just grab him and dive off.”

James Bond snickered. “How laughable you sound! What if there’s no pressure deferential? You must know nothing about turbos!”

He slammed a device onto the door right above the slide and a parallel beep came from it, the hatch opened outwards and James Bond heaved off the turbo. Sonican held onto something because she thought she would be sucked into the troposphere if she didn’t but she wasn’t. She dropped her head in disappointment, who is this man?

* * *

Somewhere in Dubai, a bald lanky man sat in company of some other three Chinese men at a brasserie. They were quietly waiting for someone.

The bald man was Dr Graham Hill from Nepal. He was tasked with finding a man called Francis Whyte whose blood sample, while he was analyzing it to find the person from whom it bled, had found something else. The blood cells had had strange extra-membranes giving them certain atypical thickness and the erythrocytic iron pigments were strangely adapted for carrying oxygen in magnitudes larger than normal human’s. Another thing was regeneration of the cells when punctured but he was careless, the cells had died in his hands and he had had to find more of the unknown subject’s blood. The thrombocytes were magical, they would heal any wound faster than any drug could and the leucocytes had shown extraordinary phagocytosis that science had never seen.

When he told Professor William Macadam who had employed him to analyze the blood for mere DNA mapping about his strange discovery, the Art professor had merely waved his hand disinterestedly. So, Graham had withdrawn it to himself. But then he went mechanical to find him, he didn’t; Francis was already dead and cast into the sea. So, he was forced to let it go. But then, three years later, the same sources that reported him dead had come with a contrary update that he was alive and in West Africa. He had no finance to go that far, and he knew one man who would want to spend any amount on finding this Francis for whatever reason he didn’t give a fuck about, it was the same man who had given him the blood sample to analyze in the first place, the private collector of antiques and artworks, Professor William Macadam.

Luckily, Professor Macadam still appeared to be as interested as ever and he had funded his trip to China to find the boys that used to supply him organs back in the days. They happened to be less busy as he had hoped and he had briefed them on the mission. They knew Francis too; they had worked for him before.

“The asshole went away with our money,” Cheng had relayed regretfully.

These Chinese guys knew Sonican too, and they had told Dr Hill about her, that she was in UAE and she could help them find Francis Whyte. So, they flew to Dubai and at the brasserie they waited for her.

“She’s probably not gonna come,” Dr Hill lamented at some point but just then Sonican showed up.
“The C-gang!” she exclaimed and the guys cheerfully rose to hug her one after the other.

After the pleasantries, she sat and Dr Hill was introduced. They told her about why they had come and Cheng had told her they would understand if she wouldn’t join the crusade.

“Hell no! Are you kidding me?” she had screamed. “He left me like a bolt from the blue. I want to put a bullet in his ass more than anybody but I need to know why you really want him.”
“Huh—huh,” Dr Hill had cleared his throat. “As much as I feel compelled to tell you, it’s a classified info.”
“Really?” Sonican had laughed. “Do you know who I was to him? I was the one fucking him, his bitch! Don’t you give me that crap! Are you some government agency? CIA? FBI? Interpol?”
“No, I’m none of that, but it probably wouldn’t make sense if I told you.”
“So, what’s the risk? I’m all ears.”

The C-gang listened attentively too. It seemed he had not revealed the background of the mission to them either.

“I believe his blood can be used in synthesizing certain… certain drugs that could enhance human genome.”
“I don’t get that, Chanming, do you?”

Chanming, Cheng and Chung shook their heads at once.

“I got his blood sample once,” Dr Hill whispered across the table. “That blood is no ordinary blood. I haven’t met the man but I believe he has special abilities that can be genetically extended to other persons.”
“Special abilities like…”
“He can stay underwater for as long as one hour. He can heal faster than any human on earth if injured. His immunity system is… I don’t know how to describe it. If I can just get hold of him, I can get anyone genetically enhanced.”
“Are you saying Francis is some superhuman or something?”
“More like it,” whispered Dr Hill.

The C-gang laughed then, shaking their heads in disbelief.

“He may be right,” mumbled Sonican, nodding her head. “The things I had seen him done, he could truly be… all right, what’s in it for me?”
“If you help us find him, and I’m successful with the experiment, you’ll be the first recipient of the magical enhancer.”
“Done. When do we move?”
“Now would be better,” said Cheng. “I met some deliverymen who mentioned our subject’s name two days ago, and that would only mean a lot of people have heard about his revival. The earlier we move the better.”
“Okay then. But we’ll have to do it my way, and one more thing…”
“What?”
“Are you gonna kill him?”
“No, we don’t have to. We’ll need him alive.”
“And after the, what did you call it, experiment? What’s gonna happen to him?”
“By then, he should have seen what his blood could do and sponsor more researches himself.”
“He’s not gonna sponsor any research, old man. But don’t worry, we’ll get him. I’m flying to Nigeria tomorrow, alone. You can follow on a different craft. I’ll contact you when the job is done. It should be easy, he’s not gonna suspect me, ever.”
“I hope so,” said Cheng

After a short session of further chitchat, Sonican left.

“I told you,” Cheng told Dr Hill proudly. “She wouldn’t request for money. She views the world in a more pragmatic manner and besides, she’s a rich lady on her own.”
“Pragmatic! You speak English better than most Americans I know.”
“You’re kidding me right? I graduated from Harvard. Chanming, Cheng, tell him.”
“He’s an educated criminal,” Chung, whose voice was as tiny as a girl’s cracked and they laughed.

They were called the C-gang because of their names, notable Chinese trafficking lords; brutal, popular, hard to find and very expensive to employ. That very meeting at Dubai took place three days before Sonican landed in Lagos, got a boat and showed up at Majeed’s door.

...to be continued!

Written by: Lord eBay (and his action series, 2017)

Twitter & Instagram: @lordebay

Email: dearlordebay@gmail.com

ABOUT AUTHOR:

Lord eBay is an Author with a taste for Romantic, Political and Paranormal Fictions. His goal is to join other writers in resurrecting Reading/Writing culture in Nigeria. 

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