Chapter 1: Meeting in the Trenches

Ambition is cheap, the act of fulfilling it on the other hand is a seriously expensive business. More often than not your ambition would require that you pay way more than it is worth.

Depending on the size and scale of your ambition, you might end up sacrificing your spirit, soul, values, love, and every god fucking thing you hold dear, all in the name of satisfying your sick twisted thirst for accomplishment. And on your last day, you might look back and wonder if it is all worth it.

If you haven't hit your head too hard during the pursuit of your dream, you will find it easy to know the right answer to this question. The right answer, nay the only answer, is yes. Yes, it is goddamn worth it.

After all, what else are we to do on this god-forsaken earth? And when I say God-forsaken I do mean God-forsaken for God has forsaken this earth. However, that is a matter for another day. For today, I just want to make it clear that sacrificing it all in the name of your dream is the right thing to do with your life.

Chances are you would agree with me, chances are you believe this ideology and you believe that you follow it. However, what have you done to achieve your goals, and what will you do to make your dream a reality?

Perhaps you will get a job and work every day of your life. Or perhaps you will start a business and dedicate your all to building it. These are the things that most men do or plan to do in pursuit of their dreams. They imagine the normal route, the ordinary route.

However, very few men have the willingness to go over and beyond. Very few men are willing to do whatever it takes. Very few men are willing to steal, kill, and destroy in the name of mammon.

I know you might be wondering, is the pursuit of money the only dream worth having? What about other dreams like love, art, happiness, and joy? Aren't these dreams worth fulfilling, worth pursuing?

You might also be eager to point out that I used the word men rather than humans and it seems I am speaking only to men like those charlatans creating content about the retarded idea of the alpha male.

My answer to these queries and any other foolish queries of this nature is simple. I do not bother myself with nonsense. Yes, nonsense. For what else would you call any dream that doesn't revolve around wealth? And what else would you call nit-picking on semantics?

Now, where were we, yes, the willingness to steal, kill and destroy. Well, killing was off-limits for me. Destruction was wasteful. But stealing, oh stealing was well within my domain. It is after all the best way to get a boost in this game of life. And this brings me to what I was doing in a dingy bar deep in the trenches of a poor excuse for a city.

I must confess, I use the word trenches liberally. I do not refer to trenches like those dug during World War I nor do I refer to an absolute slum. It was a semi-urban area, a commendable attempt at a city.

The bar wasn't terrible but it was far from great - a tiny establishment, only as big as a large bedroom. The bar's state of destitution could best be seen in the size of the counter and the scarcity of bottles on display. As for furniture, fading white couches and glass centre tables maimed by slight damage were all the bar could boast of.

The music was terrible. Well, not exactly the song, but the music. The song was "Devil in California by Burna boy", one of the few gems that the overrated gorilla ever produced. But the speakers were loud, annoyingly loud and producing low-quality sound. The sound quality from the speakers was so low that one could hear a static buzz beneath the melody of the music.

The liquor wasn't much better. There were no cocktails and I had to shell out a huge chunk of change to purchase one of the few bottles of Baileys that was on display. The creamy drink was my go-to poison in situations like this. I was on my second cup of the bottle and yet the bottle was almost empty. Uzo was working faster than me. I was drinking to pass the time, he was drinking with a mission in mind. The objective of the mission? The calming of his nerves.

I couldn't blame him. Our situation was critical. Our co-conspirators were ten minutes late. Ten minutes is a short time when you are having fun. However, it feels like an eternity when you are awaiting the arrival of your co-conspirators in a matter of extreme stakes and danger.

A lot of things could go wrong. Right at that moment, what was most likely to go wrong was one of our partners going to the cops to snitch like a bitch. An unlikely scenario but one worth considering. I had a pessimistic habit of hoping for the best and preparing for the worst. Uzo on the other hand had a simpler habit of worrying about everything.

"Where the fuck are they?" He said, clearly losing control of his inhibitions.

He was a sober rascal and a mean drunk. Sober Uzo I could bear, drunk Uzo, that was beyond my control.

"Maybe you should lay off the bottle bro," I said as he reached for the bottle and poured himself another glass, barely leaving a drop for me.

"Those bastards had better not be fucking with us," he said, absolutely ignoring my suggestion. "You know they could be selling our idea to some other people right now. They could be trying to stab us in the back, hand over the whole operation to some other bozos."

"They can sell our idea to anybody they want. Ideas are cheap. Execution is everything. No one can execute this operation as smoothly as we can."

"If they screw us over, we would be back to zero point. We would need to find a new set of willing partners. And not just willing partners, but willing partners that check all our boxes. You know the hell we had to go through before we managed to get the right people that happened to be in the right place."

"Relax. They would come," I said optimistically despite being a pessimist through and through. Uzo had that effect on me. He was always so pessimistic and frantic that I always found myself placating him with false optimism.

I was beginning to ask myself why I kept Uzo around. Why was he really my partner? He was such high maintenance that he sometimes felt like a liability.

My thoughts of Uzo's character and my partnership with him were interrupted by the arrival of Inspector Yemi, a pot-bellied man dressed in the black pants of his police uniform and a shirt that made his pot belly extremely obvious and quite unsightly.

His face was fat and melty with rosy cheeks and a double chin. Even his eyes seemed to be growing fat with reverse eye bags hanging over his lazy eyes, making him look like a bulldog.

You might be wondering what in God's name we needed a fat man for in a dangerous high-stakes operation. The answer lies in the reason behind Inspector Yemi's fatness.

When inspector Yemi was nothing more than a recruit, he was a skinny scraggly man who looked sickly. His entire frame was nothing more than bone covered in a thin layer of skin with some layers of flesh running interception.

However, as a mere recruit, he learned the basics of his profession. At roadblocks, Yemi was a monster, shaking down more drivers than his colleagues. He was ruthless, turning a deaf ear to all forms of pleadings, answering only the call of his one true god, his saviour and Lord, Mamon who manifested as crispy notes squeezed into his palm.

After the exchange of cash, Yemi became friendly. It was like magic. He went from yelling and threatening to smiling and joking. So much so that his victims found it hard to despise him. Those who encountered him regularly learned that his friendship could be bought and his friendship was a good thing.

Now Yemi's ruthlessness served a greater purpose beyond lining his pockets, his ruthlessness fattened the pockets of his superiors. In time, they knew him as the man who always returned with the largest loot. His regular and large payments to his superiors, coupled with his charismatic friendliness earned him the love and favour of his bosses.

In time, Yemi moved up the ranks at an impressive rate and he was still moving up the ranks when we met. With each promotion came bigger bribes and bigger deals. As a man built by corruption, he was a master of his art. And it wouldn't be wrong to say that the man was fat from feeding on the toxic substance of wicked corruption. This made him the perfect ally for our tiny venture.

We didn't need him for his physique, we needed him for his position in the police force and his willingness to bend the long hand of the law away from us, ensuring that we evade the grasp of lady justice.

"How you doing boys," Inspector Yemi said in his rich bubbly voice that always sounded larger than life, like the voice of a drunk king from mediaeval times. I hated his voice. His voice had an undertone of father-like friendliness, a condescending note of insolence.

In his dumb and empty skull, we were nothing more than small boys in his big world, small boys he was indulging in a bit of child's play. To him, he was helping us to play a dangerous game, like a father taking his sons on a roller coaster. It didn't matter that he was barely five years older than us even though he looked like he was in his late forties. To him, we were younger, smaller, and lesser.

"My officer," Uzo said jovially, springing to his feet and stretching his palm out for a shake. In that moment, I was reminded of one of the many reasons why Uzo was a valuable partner. He was excellent at dealing with people I couldn't stand. Uzo flowed with the highest and lowest of society with the dexterity of a chameleon.

Granted, he wasn't exactly ideal for rubbing shoulders with the high and mighty but he could pull his weight. However, when it came to dealing with the scum of the earth, the lowest of the lows, Uzo was unmatched. He knew the right buttons to push, the right threats to make and the right size of bribes to offer.

Uzo and Yemi shook hands as I slowly got to my feet. Unlike Uzo, I wasn't excited by the arrival of the greedy deity of corruption. I shook the man's hand with as much courtesy as I could afford and retook my seat without saying a word.

"You boys seem to have started the party without me," Inspector Yemi said as he took his seat next to Uzo who had been seated across from me. "In fact, it seems you are already done with the first round of celebrations."

"There is nothing to celebrate, at least not yet," I said, unable to hold my tongue back.

"Okay. But still, we need a fresh bottle. Friends that drink together succeed together," Yemi said, not trying hard enough to hide his glutinous thirst.

"Yes," Uzo agreed loudly. "Another bottle please," he said, yelling for the benefit of the bar girl who rolled her eyes before picking a bottle of Baileys from the bar and bringing it to us. She placed it on the table and unscrewed the cap.

"And a cup for me," Yemi said looking up at the young lady with a smile. His smile was lusty and I could see his eyes glimmering with excitement even before he ran his tongue over his lower lip. I wasn't surprised. His pot belly was clearly a beer belly and those who were given to the vice of alcohol were usually prisoners of other vices. More often than not, their secondary vice was serial womanizing, the need to fuck anything that moves on two legs and occasionally wears a skirt.

I was, however, surprised when the lady turned to leave and the officer slapped her ass loudly, making her tight buttocks jiggle in her short skirt. The girl spun in anger and for a second I could see in her eyes that she was considering the thought of unleashing a dirty slap across his face. However, she seemed to think better of it as she only stared angrily at him for a few seconds before walking away.

In response to her anger, Yemi laughed out loud, making me and even Uzo quite uncomfortable.

"That was uncalled for," I said, despite the rational part of my brain telling me to keep quiet.

Uzo shot me a look that expressed his dissatisfaction with my poking of the bear. However, I didn't care.

"Don't mind her. She is just being a little girl. She will calm down when I show her good life. But let's forget her. Let's get down to business."

"We need to wait for the banker," pointed out.

"Forget that man. We don't need him for my side of things," Yemi countered. "Anyways, all my boys would be off duty."

"Are you sure?" I asked, seeing a slight waver in his eyes that hinted that he was hiding something. As a cop, he had spent so much time spotting liars, but very little time creating lies of his own. He was a terrible liar with more tells than a horny bimbo.

"Actually, not all. There is this squad led by inspector Lota. They would be in the area."

"Come on, Oga Yemi, that's not what we discussed," Uzo complained. "We want the whole area police-free, one hundred per cent."

"Relax. Is it not me again? I tried my best, trust me. But this is the best I could do. I'm telling you. The squad that will be patrolling is led by an idiot that thinks he is better than the rest of us. He is a thorn in the flesh of everyone at the station and we have tried to deal with him.

My superiors and I have held back his career as much as we could but the idiot has managed to get to the position of inspector. He leads his own squad now and he has started planting his foolish ideas in the heads of his boys. Basically, there is nothing to stop him from doing exactly what he wants."

"Does he know anything about our plans?" I asked

"No. I'm not stupid."

I wanted to tell him that I disagreed with his self-assessment of not being stupid. I decided against it. Fools are usually terrible at controlling their rage and it's best not to anger them, especially when your chance at a better life and your life itself is in their hands.

The bar girl returned with a glass cup and dropped it gracelessly before swiftly retreating from our table, clearly trying her best to avoid another assault from the bulldog. Inspector Yemi picked up the glass cup, blew air from his mouth into it in the way experienced drinkers loved to do, and then poured the liquor into his cup until it filled to the brim.

He took the cup to his lips and took a sip. He let out a sigh and I was expecting him to drop the cup to take another sip at a later time. But rather than do that he began to gulp down the hot creamy liquor like it was a glass of beer. He kept gulping the hot liquor down his throat until his cup was empty. Letting out an even louder sigh of satisfaction, he refilled his cup and then settled into his chair.

"Only one of his boys knows that something is going down on Friday," the inspector continued, finally able to speak to us again after his thirst had been quenched. "Like most people in my station, he doesn't know the details. His job is simply to make sure that once the squad stops and sets up a roadblock, their vehicle would not leave that spot until the next day."

"That's good enough," Uzo said, nodding happily.

"Do we know the exact road that they would be stationed at?" I asked.

"Yes. Olaniyi Street. Just avoid that road and you will be fine. There would be no police in the entire area. No stops and searches or anything else in my district. The only presence we would have is that road. As long as you avoid it, you are good to go. You said there would be no shots fired right?"

"That's the plan," I said.

"Well, plans change," Yemi replied.

"Not if we can help it."

He snickered.

"I hope you are right. But in case things start to go anyhow, don't waste time before you start shooting. Guns are not toys and you aren't carrying them just for show. Don't worry about the noise, my guys won't respond. You just have to get out of the place as fast as possible."

"What if the people at the bank call some other station?" Uzo asked.

'Well that's your fucking business," Yemi replied, his face switching from friendliness to annoyance as if he simply pulled off a mask.

'Yes. But it will be your fucking business too if we get caught," Uzo replied, also switching his face into a mask of seriousness.

Both men stared at each other for two long seconds, enough time for me to scan the bar for possible exits. However, my fears were misplaced as both men suddenly started laughing like two mad men sharing an inside joke.

"You no get sense you this boy," Yemi said, slapping Uzo jovially on his back. I saw his smile switch to pain and rage, before switching back to a sheepish smile. It was slight and swift, less than a second, but I saw it. 'If you like, get arrested and tell them that I was involved. I will deny you sharp sharp. It will shock you to your bone marrow."

"They can't catch us," Uzo said. "We are too smart to mess up."

"Said every bank robber that got caught," Mr. Frank said, bursting into our conversation unannounced. He was dressed in a white shirt with its sleeves rolled up and the first two buttons loosened. His shirt was tucked into his black trousers and his tie hung loosely around his neck. It was easy to imagine that his suit jacket was hanging behind the driver's seat of his car. It was also easy to imagine how he would look in his full outfit based on the crispy and well-tailored shirt and trousers he had on.

His physique was somewhat better than the inspectors, which said a lot about their different lifestyles. Mr. Frank, although quite obese with a protruding stomach, a result of his sedentary lifestyle, wasn't a repulsive blob. It was clear that he still cared about his image, and while he was obviously not fit neither was he going to the gym, one could speculate that he watched what he ate, unlike Yemi who ate and drank like a glutton with a death wish.

Frank was clearly coming straight from the bank and had suffered through a very long day. Unlike Yemi who was a civil servant and like most civil servants simply spent the whole day seated and doing absolutely nothing,

The banker was not in high spirits. He was drained, tired and clearly in need of a drink. He didn't have the luxury of demanding another glass. He filled up the cup I was using, looked around the rim for where he guessed my lips had touched, and then gave up on the task as the light of the bar was too dim. He shrugged and took a big sip.

Removing the cup from his lips he took in a deep breath and let it out.

"God I needed that," he said before sitting next to me so he was facing the cop. I found it somewhat amusing that while Frank and Yemi were both dressed in black and white, the difference in their physique and style was like day and night.

"Long day?" I asked.

"Yeah. The Headquarters really put in special effort to screw with me today. Imagine, going through the same procedures over and over again, day in and day out."

"Like fucking the same woman for twenty years," Inspector Yemi jumped in. "That's why I am not married."

Once again the boorish office's words unleashed an awkward silence upon us and we all had to stare at each other for a few seconds before normal conversation could continue.

"Something like that I guess," Frank said just to get the ball of conversation rolling. "I know you guys think you need this shit to succeed but trust me, I need it just as bad as you. Hell, I might even need it more."

"That's bullshit," Uzo said. "You have a good job and a career with great prospects. You can do without this. That's why I am forced to wonder why you are doing this at all."

This wasn't the first time Uzo was pointing out that he didn't trust Frank, but it was the first time he was hinting at it in Frank's presence. In truth, his worry-induced drinking was more about Frank than Yemi.

"I have a job that drains my soul with no prospect of ever making me rich. You and Seth also have businesses which lack prospects of ever making you rich. We are a lot alike. Living mid lives when we want more."

"We are nothing alike," Uzo said. "You, bankers, are nothing like us. You are sharks, always circling to ruin businessmen by offering exorbitant loans and then taking them for all they got."

"Uzo," I said, trying my best to call him to order but it was too late. The liquor had settled into his bloodstream and was now taking effect in the worst way possible.

"Do you know what I think, I think you are a spy, a spy police."

"What the fuck is that," I said letting out a chuckle.

"It's a security outfit made up of wannabe cops. They are sometimes told to infiltrate groups like ours and provide information for the cops," Uzo replied in a tone that sounded rehearsed.

"Wait you are being serious," I said, finding the entire line of discussion ridiculous.

"He is right," Inspector Yemi said and suddenly the plot thickened from watery rubbish into a repulsive paste. I could see through their foolishness like it was glass. Inspector Yemi, like a serpent, has been poisoning Uzo's mind, probably for a while now. It was the inspector that would have told him about the existence of civilian spy policemen in Nigeria's Police System. The only question was why and the answer came swiftly. Yemi wanted Frank out of the deal. The fewer people involved, the larger his cut would be. Or at least so he thought.

"The way I see it, you shouldn't be here at all," Uzo said.

"Uzo, this is not the time to change plans or pull bullshit like this," I said angrily as my annoyance grew to unbearable proportions. Uzo, like a pawn, was falling under the influence of alcohol and manipulation of the shrewd inspector. His shortsightedness was putting the whole mission at risk and I couldn't stand it. Once again, I wonder what in heaven's name I was doing in partnership with a brute like Uzochukwu.

"It isn't bullshit," Uzo complained

"It is," I shot back. "Now, no more talk about changing plans or about any member of this operation being useless. Remember that the reason why we are going to get a big loot out of this operation is because of the tip he gave us. Frank," I continued, turning to the banker. "Brief us on your side of things."

"First of all, I must say that it pains me deeply that your friend here doesn't trust me. I have been a bank manager for seven fucking years. Year in, year out, same desk, same position, same salary, same bullshit. Even when I am posted to a new branch it all feels the same."

"Cry me a river," Uzo mumbled.

"I will make you cry a river if you don't shut the fuck up," I replied. To this Uzo shot daggers at me with his eyes, clearly miffed that I was taking the banker's side. Ignoring him, I turned my attention back to the banker and tried to bring him back to the fold. We needed him to stay in line. He was crucial to our plan.

Uzo thought he was useless and did not contribute much to the success of the operation. He was right to some extent. But what Uzo was failing to see was that Frank had been essential in the planning phase and he would be crucial in the post-execution phase. When the whole operation comes to an end, Frank, even more than Yemi, would be the person protecting us from seeing the four walls of a prison.

Yemi would be crucial in protecting us when the heat is on. But after that, Frank would be our guardian angel. He would be the one lying consistently. Two years from now, they wouldn't ask Yemi what happened on the fateful night of the operation. They will ask Frank. The same goes for five and ten years from now.

"Look man," I said to Frank. "I understand what you are feeling. Trust me, I do. You bring immense value to this operation. You are the glue that holds this whole shit together. So please, ignore the manners, or more accurately, lack thereof, of my partner. Tell us the arrangements you have made so we can get the hell out of here before someone sees us together."

"That's true," Frank said, looking over his shoulder as if suddenly realizing that there was a distant but existing possibility of someone seeing us and figuring out what we were doing. I mean, it would be useless information now, but after the operation, a sharp mind would be able to piece the puzzle together. A banker, two nobodies and a police officer, meeting days before a major bank robbery is the stuff of conspiracy theories. Most times conspiracy theories don't amount to anything. However, there are time where they trigger investigations and lead to the uncovering of dastardly truths.

"I have made arrangements with Musa." Femi continued as he regained his composure and earned some nerve as a bonus

"That's the security guard that will be on duty right?"

"Yes," Frank replied. "He has already put in his two weeks' notice. His final shift would be the night that you guys would attack. I made sure that he wrote the letter so that things panned out that way."

""Smart," I said, encouraging the timid man who clearly needed all the encouragement he could get.

"I have already given him his cut. By the time you guys are done he would be on a plane to Norway. He would basically be a dead end. Of course, I will take his cut out of our share of the loot equally when we are cleaning the money for you guys."

"How much did you pay him?" Uzo asked.

Frank fell silent. He already knew that what he was about to say would cause a small ruckus but there was no way around it.

"Five million," Frank finally said and Uzo reacted as expected.

"Five million," Uzo exclaimed. "Are you mad? Five fucking million simply for him to not be at his duty post?"

"And for him to hand over his key card so that you guys can enter the bank under his identity without having to break any doors. Mr. Uzo, we have been through this before. You can't break into the bank. You need the access key of a staff. And that staff must be someone we can trust not just to keep shut but to disappear. We are asking him to give up everything he knows."

"Oh don't be absurd," Uzo said. "The man is getting a free ticket to Norway, it isn't a bad deal at all. Besides, you told us that he was already trying to travel out of the country before we came along. Don't act as if we are disrupting his plans."

"We are disrupting his plans," Frank argued. "He planned to maintain contact with his friends at the bank and his other friends here in the city. That wouldn't be possible now. Hell even his family would be investigated. We also have to ensure that he doesn't start blackmailing us five years from now. Five million is fair to buy his silence for eternity."

"And what's to ensure that he wouldn't turn on us when he goes broke."

"He won't. I trust him," Frank replied. "I trust him the way you should trust me. The way I trust you. I am basically putting my hard-earned cash on the line. if you guys screw up, that money is as good as gone with no hope of return."

"Pfft," Uzo hissed, looking away as he was out of things to say but still not convinced. He picked up the bottle and poured himself a drink.

"Your arrangements seem solid enough," I replied, finally returning to the conversation. I would have interrupted the exchange earlier but it was clear that the two men needed to bicker a bit for both their sanities.

"They are pretty solid," Frank agreed. "Everything would be fine on my end. You will get the key card tomorrow evening. I will meet you at your house and hand it over."

"That seems good enough," I said. "Okay then, I guess that's it. Anything else, I asked, throwing the question for anyone at the table to answer. All three of my co-conspirators nodded in the negative and that was all the confirmation I needed. "Alright then. Let's get the fuck out of here before someone spots our unnatural group."

"Yeah,' Uzo said. "Two businessmen, a cop and a banker. It doesn't get any more unnatural."

"Do you mean to say two criminals," Yemi said jokingly.

"Yemi my friend," Uzo replied. "In case it hasn't dawned on you yet. We are all criminals here."

All four of us burst into varying degrees of laughter. Inspector Yemi laughed the loudest, followed by Uzo, then me. As for Frank, his timid nature only allowed for a loud chuckle and nothing more. All four of us walked out of the bar and walked to the parking lot.

Yemi hopped into his brand new government issued Hilux and zoomed off with the confidence that only a police officer can muster under the influence. Frank got into his black Toyota corolla which was branded with the words Blaze Bank and the logo of a fiery spear.

As for Uzo and I, we rode together in my banged-up and trustworthy honda, a gift from my dad that had clearly seen better days. I got into the cockpit and Uzo rode shotgun. Within minutes our little gang was dispersed, gone with the wind almost like we were never there.