Little Blue Car.

1983, somewhere in Sabon Gari, Kano.

The man in the dark 504 salon chain smoked. He had just gotten into position and was trying to get used to his new surroundings. From here he had a view of the road as it stretched down in the dusty sunny weather of midday Kano. His target’s house wasn’t visible from this side of the street, you’d have to drive into the first connecting street on the right or walk down if you were so inclined. He had established that his query lived in the large compound with his three wives and children but, with the property well manned and, his target hardly ever alone, he knew a quiet job would be impossible. Not wanting to risk being noticed and giving up his shaded spot, the man just waited. 

Get a feel of the place said he, stay here all day if I have to. ...

 BAM! BAM! BAM!

He jerked round suddenly to find a hawker peering at him. His dark face did not frighten her as she stood by; seemingly surprised he’d be sleeping just when she’d be hawking her goods.

“Kai! Shegeia!” He cursed bitterly.

The girl blinked as if she understood not a single word then walked away as quietly as she had crept up on him.

He looked at his watch, angry that he had let himself sleep off unguarded and even worse; unsure of his subject’s movements. One hour! He had been asleep an hour? 

“Kutuma.....!”

He sat up in one fluid motion and adjusted his mirror seeing that he looked haggard. His eyes were sunken, his beard untrimmed and his lips swollen twice their size in the rigor of sleep.

The man cursed under his breath then got out of the car. The neighborhood was a quiet residential one and that meant it had a little above 10 adults prowling its streets, most residents had gone to find a living. The little kids squealed and jumped around in the heat. Their little black, dusty, bodies moving in all directions as they played and chased after one another. A stop further down had a faded, rusty sign that read: "Tandi."

He walked in and signaled for a drink, turning around slightly to relate his position with his targets’ house. The Dongoyaro trees obscured his view and he couldn’t really tell if the query’s bus was still parked in so he asked the boy who brought him his drink if the master of the house opposite was in.

“I could ask if you wish to visit for I just resumed duties and am not really sure if Mallam Ali is indoors.”

He made to call out but the man called him off.

“No friend, I will visit him after this drink; I merely wanted to say hello, nothing you should be bothered about.”

He finished his drink and pushed his chair back, the cool shade-so refreshing from the blaze of the outdoor heat. Slightly tipping his hat down his nose he made to watch the entrance from the corner of his eye.

He woke with a start, his hat falling off, his legs shooting out, and his eyes opening, all in one continuous progress that resulted in an inquiring look at his intruder, his face contorted into a big expressive “whaaat?”

The boy was saying something and pointing down the road. His eyes followed the stretched hand’s direction to a lone figure walking down the road then back, and then back to the road again before realizing what was going on. He got to his feet and paid for his drink, nodding slightly at the boy on his way out.

                                                         

                                                    * * *

The man ahead walked slowly, sure of his movements. He walked to the Volkswagen beetle and rapped at the window. The door opened and he climbed into the back seat. There were two men in front, a young driver and his friend, Dan Lami riding shotgun.

"You don’t suppose they’d be done with the burial by now do you?"    He asked his friend.

"Well, we have to get there first to know now don’t we?"  Came the terse reply.

They started off slowly finally gaining momentum on the stretch road as the bug sped along leaving a dusty encore. The rest of the journey was a quiet one with neither man talking much. It seemed Dan Lami was more interested in gauging his young driver’s proficiency. There was much to be said but now wasn’t the time apparently. There would be ample space at the burial. He leaned back and closed his eyes, his lips muttering wordlessly as he pulled his Tesbih.

                                                      

                                                       * * *

The man in the 504 had to overtake two cars at full speed to catch up to the little blue car ahead. He hoped he had not made himself obvious by doing so. He was tired and he knew it, sleeping on the job-so unprofessional! Damn! He reached into the glove compartment box and brought out an old revolver. He had two bullets left and with everything happening so fast he had to make some sort of decision. Wherever these men were off to would only increase his operational costs, he couldn’t stay back either, who knew if his prey would be back? Should he follow? and for how long?

He put the Peugeot in fourth gear and brought the car a little distance behind the Volkswagen. He could see the man's cap through the screen ahead and a thought occurred to him. Flooring the gas, he drove past the Volks peering in carefully as he did so. Three people, just two in the chamber. The road ahead continued into the distance with an intersection on the left lane. He pushed his accelerator going a little over eighty; he could see the beetle in his rear view mirror.

He reached behind and pulled down his window on his right back seat, careful not to lose grip on his steer then brought his speed down to fifty. The Volkswagen was coming up, apparently driving straight ahead into Daura. As the car went by on his right he pulled up his gun, maintaining his speed, the Volks slowly coming up his rear. He looked back into the car, waited a bit for the face in the back to come into view through his window, brought his gun level and fired.

Blood splattered across the seats and windows shattered as the little blue Volkswagen car veered off the road.