The wind howled across the rooftop, carrying the scent of rain and the distant hum of the city below. Ochieng's fingers tightened around the black envelope, his pulse steady, but his mind raced.
What he had just read… it changed everything.
Malik watched him with a knowing smirk, but there was something else in his eyes—something deeper. Fear.
"You see it now, don't you?" Malik said, voice low. "This isn't just a game between us anymore. There are bigger players, and they don't tolerate failure."
Ochieng's jaw clenched. The names inside that envelope… the locations… the proof.
This wasn't just about him or Naima.
This was about something much bigger. A secret that could burn down the entire world.
He slid the papers back into the envelope, tucked it inside his coat. His voice, when he finally spoke, was ice.
"If this is true, you're already dead."
Malik chuckled darkly. "Then help me stay alive."
Ochieng remained silent.
"Help me," Malik pressed, "and I'll give you something more valuable than anything you've ever had."
Ochieng raised an eyebrow. "And what's that?"
Malik's smirk deepened.
"The location of the one man who can end this war before it begins."
Thunder rumbled in the distance.
For the first time, Ochieng felt the weight of something far bigger than revenge, power, or survival.
This was no longer just a fight.
This was war.
---
Naima paced inside the dimly lit apartment, her nerves on edge. It had been hours since Ochieng left, and every passing second felt heavier.
When the door finally clicked open, she turned sharply.
He stepped inside, rain dripping from his coat, his expression unreadable.
"What happened?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper.
Ochieng said nothing at first. He reached into his coat and tossed the black envelope onto the table.
Naima hesitated before picking it up. As she unfolded the papers inside, her breath caught.
Names.
Addresses.
Operations that shouldn't exist.
And at the very bottom—one name circled in red ink.
The Ghost King.
Naima's hands trembled. "This… this is real?"
Ochieng's eyes darkened. "Very."
A heavy silence filled the room.
Naima swallowed hard. "So what now?"
Ochieng stepped closer, his presence commanding, suffocating. He reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch deceptively gentle.
"Now," he murmured, "we stop running."
Naima searched his gaze. "And if they come for us first?"
Ochieng's lips curled into a smirk.
"Let them."
---
The next morning, the city moved like nothing had changed. Cars honked, people bustled, neon lights flickered over shop windows. But beneath the surface, the war had already begun.
Ochieng sat inside a sleek black car, parked outside a luxury hotel. The tinted windows shielded him from the outside world, but his eyes were sharp, scanning the entrance.
Beside him, Jeff—one of his most trusted men—loaded a gun with precise movements.
"Are you sure about this?" Jeff asked.
Ochieng exhaled. "We need leverage."
Jeff nodded. "And this guy will give it to us?"
Ochieng's gaze never wavered. "He doesn't have a choice."
A moment later, the hotel doors slid open, and a man in a tailored suit stepped out.
The target.
Jeff grinned. "Showtime."
Ochieng pushed the door open and stepped out, the city's chaos fading as he moved toward the man.
The man barely had time to react before Ochieng grabbed his wrist, twisting it just enough to make him wince.
"We need to talk," Ochieng said.
The man swallowed hard. "Do I have a choice?"
Ochieng smirked.
"No."
--
That night, inside an abandoned warehouse on the city's outskirts, the air was thick with dust and tension. Ochieng and Jeff stood over the trembling man, bound to a chair, his expensive suit now wrinkled and soaked in sweat.
"You don't understand," the man stammered. "I-I have no part in this—"
Jeff delivered a swift punch to his gut, making him cough violently.
"Cut the lies," Jeff snapped. "We know you've been moving funds for them."
Ochieng crouched beside him, his voice eerily calm. "Where is The Ghost King?"
The man hesitated, looking away.
Another blow.
Blood dripped from his nose, his breath ragged.
"I don't know," he gasped. "No one knows. He doesn't—"
Ochieng grabbed his chin, forcing eye contact. "Try again."
The man swallowed hard. Then, finally, he whispered, "He's supposed to be in Shenzhen… but no one meets him directly. If you want him to find you, you have to be worth his time."
Ochieng exchanged a look with Jeff.
"Then we'll make him come to us," Ochieng murmured.
Jeff smirked. "And how do we do that?"
Ochieng stood up, dusting off his coat. "Simple."
He turned to the bound man.
"Tell your boss Ochieng is coming."
Fear flashed across the man's face. "You'll die before you get close."
Ochieng's smirk was cold.
"Let them try."
---