SammyHoe, we still dey follow, jejelly.
More ink to your pen.

alizenbohr: SammyHoe, we still dey follow, jejelly.
More ink to your pen.

Thanks for following...I'll update soon...

Waiting for updates.a. Good job. But am ahead of this part

Abt 6 episodes remaining shey? I no saay e no go tey, we go reach there just now

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Honeymoon In Prison continuation...

[b]Yemi knew all hope was gone for him. Now he had raised his hands high. They held him and pushed him.

"Move!" they spanked him as they began to force him out of the corner. A gun was sinking deep into his temple. The pain was excruciating. He limped on.

"Traitor!" screamed an angry cop as he lashed his nape with a whip. No speech of Yemi was regarded dinkum. Who would believe whatever he had to say when an eyewitness saw him passing a gun to Deinde who shot down a policeman while trying to escape earlier?

Deinde himself had only escaped the prison by a dint of luck, owing more proportion of his lucky escape to the police attire on him. His chasers were confused throughout the chase, such that they were chasing the wind most of the time.

Mr. Jegede had a sad story to tell, having gotten a bludgeon to his forehead when Deinde rushed to him and grabbed him as if he was the one they were chasing. They had thumped his head with the '*kumo' already before realising that he was only a victim of misconception...[*kumo-big stick-bludgeon]

"Move faster!" Mr. Jegede tapped Yemi right at the epicenter of his crew-cut head. It shook Yemi's brain like earthquake such that he had to gnash his teeth in pain. The man was only venting his spleen on Yemi, having fallen victim of Deinde's cunning tricks earlier.

"Traitor!" said another person, punching Yemi from behind.

"It is a setup," Yemi said over and over again as he limped along.

"Shut up! I saw you! You gave him a gun!" Deinde's first prey said. He was the same unharmed policeman Deinde beat up and wore his attire.

"Lock him up!" said the most superior of the police officers. He didn't even care about Yemi's bleeding leg. "I am going to inform the Chief Warden now! Two of you should come with me, we must comb everywhere for the escaped prisoner!"

Jegede was the first to step towards his superior. He needed to get Deinde and pay him back in his own coin. It was such an unimaginable humiliation.

Mr. Jegede was a six-feet, two-inch tall man, strong and agile. Many people had described him as the AIG of the future, because he had similar physique as that of Mr. Goriola, the Assistant Inspector General of Police who was regarded as a genius of his time for his numerous skillful approaches towards getting hardened criminals arrested.

Mr. Jegede had carried himself everywhere as the AIG-to-come, yet he was already fifty-five years old. The man had gone as far as learning the exact walking manner of the AIG, the way he smiled (if he smiled at all), the way he yelled, the way he folded his crinkled forehead and more.

Mr. Jegede didn't realise the age gap between himself and his role model. He just blindly followed his footsteps, yet he was nine years older.

"I shall become the AIG of this nation someday," Mr. Jegede would boast before his friends.

"At seventy, isn't it?" they would make fun.

Yemi had his head over his jerky knees in the same cell Deinde was initially occupying. A man was with him, putting a rifle close to his head. They would be there together until the Chief Prison Warden comes to see him.

"I didn't do it!" Yemi would bang his fist hard against the hard floor, weeping. He had had the butt of the heavy gun on his head twice.

Despite all his displays, the man behind him didn't believe the story he had told over and over again, that he was press-ganged into setting Deinde free.
________________________________________


Momoh was still on the spot, chewing gums after having no cigarette left to smoke. He had smashed his phone in anger earlier, when he didn't catch sight of either Deinde or Yemi. Back then, he had dialled the number again to tell his gang members to kill Bimbo and Yemi's wife, but the line didn't go through.

Deinde and Yemi should have been here by now, he said. "It's past 10pm, an hour behind schedule. Maybe the plan went awry, or Yemi told the secret to the police; he dare not, except he doesn't love his family."

Momoh had assembled and disembled the phone several time without success. The screen just kept displaying 'No Sim Card Inserted'. Just when Momoh would give up on the phone, it worked.

"Good!" Momoh smiled. His phone beeped almost immediately. It was a call from the affluent man who seemed to have ordered Yemi's arrest earlier.

Momoh picked the call immediately:

"Honourable sir...they are not here yet...but don't worry sir, Yemi can't afford to lose his family...yes sir...yes sir...okay sir, I'll be there sir," they hung up.
________________________________________


Bimbo and the other Yemi had been having it hot for the past four and half hour, lying chest down with their mouths sealed up with paper tapes. They had five hefty and grungy men around them, threatening to blow up their heads with their guns, which they had set over their heads.

Bimbo had sweated her way into losing some pounds. She had cried her face to paleness. Her once puffy cheeks had shrunken under the weight of the uncertainty of what the future held.

It was 10:30pm already and they hadn't heard from Momoh.

"I thought Momoh said he has seen Deinde and Yemi coming towards him earlier," said one of them.

"Yes, he called me," said another.

"Oga Momoh gan sef," said a third person. "No be im say make we shoot them before? As we wan do am hin change mouth again. Which kind thing be this one sef?"

They kept dialling Momoh's phone number, but it wasn't going through.

A knock was heard at the door. Everyone had to rush to take position in hiding, thinking it was the police. It was Yomi, Yemi's half-brother. Probably he had come to pass the night in Yemi's residence as he seldom do, under the excuse of the fear of staying alone in his own house since his wife had left him two years back for his inability to impregnate her.

However, Yomi had never come when Yemi was on night duty in the past. But this time, he was there, perhaps not aware that Yemi was on night shift.

"Yemi, are you at home?" Yomi screamed when he got in and saw no one. He was almost stepping inadvertently on the mother and daughter lying on the floor. He moved well into the room and then he got the butt of gun striking his head hard. He fell.
________________________________________


Momoh began to hear the blaring of sirens at close range. He was certain that something had happened. Quickly, Momoh jumped under the wheel and began to drive as fast as possible. He was lucky no one was after him.

PAGE 13
Momoh skidded off. Now he was rest assured something had happened. He raised the volume of the Fuji music from the tape he had slotted into his car stereo. His head was dangling back and forth in resonance to the music.

"This man is crazy!" Momoh yelled in excitement, laughing at the funny song coming out of the stereo. He was loving the flow and the rhythm.

Momoh was just confident that Deinde would return to them to get his pay in full. He had been paid a hundred thousand naira upfront for the evil task of murder, such money Deinde had used to pay the house rent for the little self contain himself and his younger sister Desola were occupying. The rest they had used to feed for the rest of that month before he carried out the mission eventually.

Momoh was still at the entrance to that same house Yemi was taken to earlier when a voice sounded behind the curtain:

"How did it go?" the man asked. It was that same wealthy-looking man who was with Momoh and Gogo earlier. "Deinde didn't return still?"

"He was being pursued by the police sir," said Momoh. Maybe he would be joining us tomorrow."

"Are you sure?" the man asked in a tone of fright.

"Honorable Tunji, just put your mind at rest sir," said Momoh in a calm manner. "Remember Deinde is still having some cash with us which we shall be balancing him. He would not want to miss his balance of #100,000."

"Alright then," Mr Tunji sighed.

"And more so, his home is under surveillance and we have his younger sister under our beck and call."

"That young girl, isn't it? That one you said you always send bread to Deinde through her, isn't she?"

"Exactly, Desola is her name," Deinde said.

"Maybe we should go and bring her with us here, Momoh, or what do you think?" Mr. Tunji said thoughtfully.

"Sir, I don't think that is necessary. We are keeping her under surveillance 24/7. So there's no need to panic; she can't go anywhere. More so, if Deinde isn't planning to return to her, at least he would want to go to his home to take his sister away and then we will discover him and gun him down."

"Killing him is what I want to hear, Momoh," the man said with a cruel face. "Not just gunning him down. We don't need him alive anymore!"

They were silent for a moment, but Mr. Tunji permeated the air with his speech eventually:

"Is this place still safe?"

"I think it is sir," Momoh said slowly as if he wasn't certain himself. "That warder didn't know how we got here. We have blindfolded him before we turned here. Aside that, he doesn't know anywhere around here at all.

"Momoh, what about your men?"

"They are all on their way back," Momoh said. "I asked them to leave Yemi's family alone now."

"Why?" the man asked. He was not buying such idea.

"You know it's like the warder and Deinde have both escaped the prison yard. Sure the police would be combing everywhere for Yemi. They would call at his home first. What if they found our men there? Shooting spree and some of our men would die, but I'm not ready to lose anyone now sir."

"What if those family divulged the truth of the whole thing to the police?"

Momoh laughed.

"I asked my men to threaten them with death if they say a thing: they wouldn't dare want to lose their own lives as well as Yemi's own too, because the story to tell them is that Yemi is now with us and if they confessed anything to the police, we shall kill him immediately."

"Hmm! Good job there Momoh," Tunji gave him thumbs up. "It is even foolish of me in the first place to have thought of that. Even if they told the police, where would they locate us? Does his wife and child know anything about us?

The police had only a wild goose to chase. Deinde had escaped too far already before the hunt for him began.
The gunshot heard in the cell earlier was the one he shot at a policeman, who at the moment was half-way between heaven and earth.

Deinde wasn't tempted at all to return to Momoh and his people for the balance of #100,000, having made deep calculations to arrive at the conclusion that he could be killled. However, he was tempted to return to his home to escape with Desola, who had been desolated by her sudden discovery of her brother as a hired killer.

Deinde didn't buy the idea of rushing to his home either, since he knew Desola was being serously monitored by them, having told him in the cell earlier that the sliced loaves of buttered bread she had been bringing to Deinde were from Momoh's gang.

Deinde sat under an isolated shed, his dark goggle fittingly placed on his face such that his fat nose were made to squeeze below the tight bridge of the goggle.

Deinde had only acquired the goggle from the security guard of the prison gate after catching him off guard, pointing a gun at him to escape.

Deinde had no place to stay, no money on him as well, so he would remain under the shed overnight.

Deinde kept wondering how he could be caught that way by the two policemen who accosted him after murdering Mr. Smith, the governorship candidate under the auspices of the Friendship Party.

"Nobody saw me do the killing," Deinde whispered to himself. "I would even say it was the cleanest job I've ever done in my life," he said.

Deinde began to think that Momoh himself had a hand in his arrest.

"I am sure he has a hand!" Deinde said, hitting the floor hard with his fist. "He must have sent those policemen after me to have me arrested," Deinde concluded. Seemed he was right.

Deinde himself didn't know who Mr. Tunji was. Either Tunji was working for Mr. Aluko or not, Deinde couldn't tell since he hadn't had any contact with the govenorship aspirant himself. He had only been following the instructions of Momoh, his employer.

Deinde's confession in the court that Mr. Aluko Peter sent him to kill Mr. Smith was also an instruction he got from Momoh while he was in the cell. But how was he getting all these instructions in the cell? Who knew?



[/b]

goood moorning everryoone...
Pls let's say good morning to one another because today's going to be gr8

G'mawin sammy hoe....G'mawin u all

Lorlaahlozz: G'mawin sammy hoe....G'mawin u all

awayu?

SammyHoe:
awayu?

Ayam fine...u?

Lorlaahlozz: Ayam fine...u?

fine too.just thatd weather...too cold

Good Morning
update is here...

Almost there

Ok Sir

Rhyde On Sir


SAW

Continue,pls

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[b]Yemi overcame the temptation to eat the mouldy bread again, but then he began to ponder on a thought:

"But why didn't Yomi come with at least a slice bread?" Yemi said. He hadn't done well in that regard, Yemi thought.

Yemi's wife appeared in the prison two days later.

"Yemi," they both said, hugging each other. Tears flowed like an ocean.

"Why did this misfortune befall us, dear," she was asking.

"I don't know," Yemi said. "God is asleep."

"Can we come out of this?" she asked in tears, sobbing and sniffing along.

"I'm not sure," Yemi opened up. "No evidence at all to show that I'm innocent."

Back when everything was still rosy for them, Yemi would not show kindness to prisoners--even the gentle ones. He believed they were all pretending folks, but now he was learning in a hard way that there should be room for a suspected criminal to state if he was guilty or not.

"Ah!" the other Yemi bit her finger. "Those men kept haunting your daughter and I. They wouldn't let us have breathing space."

"How is she?" Yemi asked.

"Worse!" she wailed. "Bimbo has been terribly ill since two days back, but brother Yomi is taking a very good care of her. We need to be very grateful to him--he bought all the drugs she took, took her to the hospital to get drip and..."

"But Yomi was here two days back, but didn't tell me she was sick," Yemi was puzzled. "I would have thanked him for that."

"Yes, it's the truth. Her sickness began when he was away to visit you that day. When he returned, he met Bimbo almost dead...in fact, he had to make haste to convey her down to the hospital."

"Thank God Yomi is there when I couldn't..." Yemi was weeping aloud. He was thinking of himself as invalid. How could he be alive, yet unable to cater for his family? An infidel is better than himself, he thought.

"Brother Yomi stays with us often now, to at least encourage us and protect us somehow," she added.

"Hope those people haven't discovered him?"

"They have!" said the other Yemi. "Same day you were kidnapped, he mistakenly stepped into the house when those gang members were standing over us with guns on our head. They injured him seriously.

"Oh my God!" Yemi screamed and put his hands on his head. "But Yomi didn't tell me this!"

"Maybe he didn't want to wound your heart the more," she said.

The couple wept incessantly without saying anything more until the masculine one began to clear his throat in readiness to say something:

He looked here and there to be sure no one was watching, then he said, "I have asked Yomi to help me track those men down."

"Hmm," she breathed. "Would it work? I mean those people are too many, such that every day I meet new ones; in the market, on the roadside, calling me 'Oko warder' and putting fear in me the more. They said they have...their men among the police and warders. So I'm afraid that if we successfully track down some of them, the rest would definitely track us down too and kill us."

They began to weep afresh.

"I...I..." Yemi's wife began to stammer.

"Speak on," Yemi knew she must be having something important to say.

"I don't want to tell y-you this before," she said. "Right now, they are standing in the parlour."

"What!?" Yemi shook tremulously. "Where's Bimbo?"

"Having her head abreast a gun!" she declared. "Each time anyone would be coming here, either myself or Yomi, our poor Bimbo would have to be having a gun on her skull. That's one major reason we don't want to come to you to visit you."

"*Mo daran!" Yemi put his hands on his head, alarmed!
________________________________________
*I'm doomed
________________________________________


The other Yemi spoke on:

"Right now some of them are close by," she said in whispers. "They sent me here. In fact, they drove me close here in their car. They only decide what we should bring to you; two days back when they brought Yomi, they didn't let him bring any food to you, but now they gave me a dry loaf of bread to give you."

Yemi hankered after seeing his wife leave immediately so that Bimbo would not have her head pressed firmly against a gun for too long. She would be disorganized psychologically, Yemi thought. His heart was shedding tears of blood by pumping faster.

"Go back home immediately! Go back to Bimbo before she loses her brain! Go now Yemi, go!" Yemi screamed as if he was angry with his wife.

"They said they will keep sending...me to you," she said, wiping a drop of tears off her brow. "They gave me this to give to you." She began to bring out a sliced bread from a polythene bag.

"Why should they give me any bread at all? Why couldn't they allow you buy a bread for me yourself?"

"I don't know my dear," she said. "They only said you should eat this carefully," she sobbed unceasingly.

A warder came around to lead her out.
Yemi shook with fear as he stared at the big bread.

"They said I should eat it carefully," Yemi pondered on his wife's speech just now. "Why? Why should they send a bread to me in the first place?"

Yemi was hungry, having been underfed for weeks now. He was wan and lean and his eyes had sunk in under the weight of grief.

Yemi noticed a similarity between the bread he now had handy and the ones Deinde's sister always brought to him back then--Adegbajamo Bread--a delicious Agege bread.

"Yes! It's exactly the type of bread Desola brings to Deinde!" Yemi exclaimed. His heart began to knock against its cage. He was shaking.

Yemi initially thought the bread was poisoned. His interest was on the butter on the bread.

Perhaps it is the butter they poisoned, Yemi thought. But why did Deinde not die those days after eating the bread?

Yemi wouldn't take the risk of eating the butter with the bread, since his mind wasn't at rest about it. Quickly, he had begun to scrape the butter away, opening each dice to get that done.

Yemi discovered the 'page' where the butter was the most concentrated. He paused to look at it very closely.

"Why?" he whispered.

Yemi began to scrape it off immediately. His head rang bell when a little paper suddenly fell off from there. It was lying under the butter initially.

Yemi picked it up with impulse and boggled to open it--fearing it was a letter bomb, something which killed a famous newspaper owner some years back. The butter had smeared the little folded paper.

Yemi scraped the butter clean and peered into it enthusiastically to read the tiny but legible handwriting on it:

You did a good job, Mr. Yemi.
But make sure you keep your mouth shut for a while until we ask you to say something. Meanwhile, your wife and child are still within our reach. If you try double-crossing us, they would be gone. Good day!

Yemi held his head and wept.

"So...this is how Deinde has been getting his information," Yemi concluded at once. Without further ado, he turned to the mouldy, half-eaten bread behind him, whose stench had now made the air stale. He opened the bread dice by dice and found a similar piece of paper in it.

Yemi read silently:

Deinde, it's good you have testified against Aluko Peter as we asked you to do. Today, 9pm, a warder would come for your rescue. Don't panic because he will surely come since we have his family in our custody. He will give you a gun--of course you know what to do with that.
Meet me around candy spot for your balance. Momoh

Yemi was alarmed. At least he now knew that Mr. Aluko Peter was innocent.

[/b]

Weldone sir...

Ride on

Deinde is truly a professional criminal, i think he's gonna use the 'rabbit hole' to hit momoh and co unaware.
Keep on rocking sammy.

Fire they go bozz.

You too much

Sammy Hoe...you're almost there
I've been waiting patiently
Like your speed bro

Waiting for d nxt update ooooo

ghost mode deactivated i dey feel ur English ride on

amsad19: ghost mode deactivated i dey feel ur English ride on

Thanks