* * *
No
he saw them! One was climbing down a small tree close to the footpath while the
other hastily disappeared into the footpath. The men moved like ghosts, with
utmost care not to alarm their target. There was that grim expression on their
faces, which frightened the commercial cyclist. He was certain they had seen
him, but probably their concern was somewhere else.
The
men were dressed in black; one in a black T-shirt and jeans and the other in a
black shirt and chinos, with black berets pulled over their left ears. In their
possession were dangerous-looking guns. The men were deadly, and the Akawoke
man knew it.
He
had no doubt, who the two men were after. Quickly, he fixed the plug. He stood,
the good part of him told him to warn the stupid boy. He could have
conveniently done that and gotten away but when he remembered what the boy had
just done to him, his anger intensified.
“Let
him go rot in hell where he belonged!” he mumbled as he climbed on his bike.
Quickly he started the bike and rode off.
