WHAT BILLIONAIRES TASTE LIKE

“Exactly what we are saying,” said Azuaka Jnr. “We don’t want to sell any more. We want to put a hold on anything about selling the software for now so that we can know our enemy and fight back. If finally the police are tired of searching for us, which I don’t know when, we can quietly explore the software, everyone is settled and satisfied.”

“Yes, yes, I got you, Azu,” said Agu. “From all indications none of us here leaked the software. Mr. Ziu did, since he knows about it.”All rights © NôvelDrama.Org.

“How could he possibly do that since he wants a bite of it?” asked Ferguson. “I don’t believe that.”

“Jealousy, anything. I mean look at his profile. He is the devil’s special advisor,” said Agu. “Doing business with him is going to be the worst feat.”

After a brief silence, Ferguson said, “Ok, guys, we explore. I concur.”

“Thanks, son of man,” said Nku.

“Yes, we explore,” said Agu.

They gave him a thumb up and promised to watch each other’s back and dispersed.

Nku and Azuaka were the last two that left. Before they parted Azuaka said to Nku, “Heh, you got to be careful of Ferguson. No lion returns to his jungle at first punch.”

“Forget about Ferguson. He is tamed. He is up to nothing.”

“I know he is the devil you know but be careful. Is it a much thing to do?” he asked and held him on the shoulder.

“No, son of man thanks anyways. I got to go.”

When Opula opened the door for Ferguson, she was pained at the sight of his eyes; they were red, as red as his face; Tears dropped from them.

“What is it, sweet? What happened?”

“Ferguson struggled to say, “They are against me. Those ruddy asses are against me. They are…” he stammered and broke down in tears.

Bang! A pistol was in his hand when Opula took a full stare at him, “Calm down, sweet,” she said, with caution up her sleeves for that pistol.

He aimed the pistol at her.

“Are you drunk? You’re pointing the gun at me,” barked Opula.

But then he cried and said, “We will kill ourselves. We will,” and brought down his hand. Staggering to the bathroom, she followed him, really scared of the pistol in his hand.

“If they are against you they are against me. You are on the wanted list so anything we are going to do will be in the night when we can have a little covering,” said Opula, pouring him a black coffee.

“I am indecisive now. How do we fight back?” Ferguson asked taking hold of his cup of black coffee.

“It won’t be a bad idea if we have the hundred million dollars to ourselves.”

Bang! Ferguson brightened up at her.

“We are talking hundred million dollars here and the only way we can have it is by selling it to Mr. Ziu.” She sipped at her coffee. “First we must steal the software from Nku, and you know we must shed blood before we can get hold of that software.”

Ferguson shook his head. He had never seen such guts. He was with the right partner. She could take a bullet for him if need be. They would succeed if they planned well. When Opula opened up a sheet of paper where she wrote her plan, he wondered most exclusively at her bravery.

She read from the paper, “You will invite Nku to have a business talk with Mr. Ziu. He would be glad if Mr. Ziu hires him to build an app for him, so as soon as you guys get on bridge, you will take a shot at him and we will return for the software. The boys will be on the search for him but by then we will be chilling in a suburb.”

“And that is where?” asked Ferguson, clenching his teeth. The cold was almost much like the one in New York he had experience.

“Ohio,” she continued, “They will be limited to come for us because they are on the wanted list too, so most of their movement will be limited. From Ohio we will invite Mr. Ziu over to buy the software. If he asks for the boys we will tell him we are representing them. As soon as he pays for the software, I will disguise you as an Arab merchant, we can afford papers to Sydney and we would hire a privet jet for our escape from this shore. We are only wanted in California, remember, so we will be safe in Sydney.”

Ferguson breathed hard. “Of all the cities, why Sydney? I don’t like Sydney for one cent.”

“I feel a city in a far country will make us safer.”

“When is the time for all this?” he asked, searching out a cigar from his pocket and lighting it.

“Now is the only time we have. We are going to start off with Nku.”

“The asshole’s death is booked for tonight,” said Ferguson.

“Fine by me,” said Opula.

Ferguson dug out two pistols from his waist. “We ain’t got time. I got these from a police officer at four thousand dollars the very week I came into California. I never planned to use it on anybody. The insecurity in California was alarming so I got them,” he growled.

“California has never been so insecure until those punks dared us,” she said.

“But money is involved now, sweetie.” He tossed her one and she flinched. “Can you shoot?” he asked her.

“I can shoot for fifteen million dollars,” she said, still staring at the pieces of joined metals.

“You can if I teach you.” He held his. “You hold it away from your face, keep it at shoulders level. This is automatic pistol so each shot you take gives way for the loader to absorb more for another shot. This is the detachable barrel that houses the bullets.”

She held it and demonstrated like Ferguson, pointing it to him, to the wall, and finally to the window. He adjusted to her, held her waist and kissed her neck. “I wonder what I would have done without you. You are my back up now.”

“I am with you in this fight. If you die I die. It is our world against theirs. If we survive to Sydney…”

“I will make you the mother of my unborn child. We will make love in the river of Sydney and watch the fishes rejoice over our presence,” added Ferguson. He almost asked her if she meant all that she said. She had the spirit of a monkey but the sense of a tortoise. He would let her know after the battle before them.