DAR-ES-SALAAM, 1982
The window was bare, maybe she forgot to close the curtains. Latricia was spying on the president’s bedroom.
Latricia, a TISS special agent was working as a part of the retired President, secret security team. Raising Ross Solaross binoculars on her eyes, she had a clear view of Christos’s bedroom which was in a separate building, 20 meters away from the building she was.
“I think Rahyan is having a death wish.” Latricia said, still looking on binoculars.
Saleem, the other special agent rolled around the bed. “He’s a special agent, don’t worry.”
“He’s in Christos’s bedroom, with his wife.”
Saleem rose from the bed. “He said he rebuffed Nailah.”
“He’s crazy.”
Saleem fell to the bed. “When a child cries for a razor give it him.”
“Ooh my God!” Latricia snapped.
“Lat… will you let me get some rest please?”
“Christos is back!”
Saleem jumped out of bed.
Latricia pulled her Ross Solaross outside Christos’s house. A black jeep CJ 7 stopped and a retired president, Christos dropped out. She raised the binoculars to Christos’s head. He was smiling as he whispered to his bodyguards. His face looked younger than 52. She lowered the binoculars. He was carrying a briefcase. He walked towards the front door. It will only take a minute to reach his bedroom.
She pulled the binoculars back to Nailah, a young lady of 24 years old. She had a slim, hourglass figure. Her bliss-blue eyes were globe round. Her mouth was glossing Rayhan’s neck. Off with her blouse.
Christos was on the front door. His bodyguards remained on the door as he entered. Forty seconds to his bedroom.
Nailah slithers out Rayhan’s tie from his collar and whips it across the room. Rayhan’s tongue grazes on her ear.
Thirty seconds left. Christos looks around the quiet sitting room, a briefcase swinging in his hand.
“Call Rayhan…” Latricia mumbled.
Saleem took his phone off the pocket. His hands were trembling.
Nailah unlooses her ponytail. Her midnight-black hair flowed over her shoulders.
Twenty seconds. Christos mounts the steps.
Nailah folds her arms around Rayhan’s shoulders and kisses him deeply.
Ten seconds. Christos’s hands dive into a pocket and come out with a haul of keys.
“He’s not picking up!” Saleem said.
Rayhan carried Nailah, the two dropped on the bed.
Christos stabs the key into the lock. Twists.
Latricia raised the binoculars to Nailah and Rayhan. Their eyes sprung wide. They heard.