Tade hunched over the operating table, the midday sun filtering through the high windows of the hospital’s theatre. The light streaked across the sterile floors, starkly contrasting the chaos brewing beyond his bubble of precision and calm. He moved with the steady focus of a surgeon profound in his craft, oblivious to the storm that had just begun.

Miles away, in the dim glow of a surveillance room, MI Bello stood rigid, his eyes fixed on a flashing red alert on the secure dashboard. The notification was unmistakable: a breach involving a device linked to Tade. His breath hitched, and his jaw tightened.
Grabbing his phone, Bello barked, “Get me Tade’s location. Now.”
A clipped voice responded, “He’s in the theatre.”
“Keep him there,” Bello snapped, his tone ice-cold as he bolted out of the room. Keys in hand, he gunned the engine of his black SUV, weaving through the snarling Lagos traffic. Every second of delay coiled the knot in his gut tighter.
“Trace that signal,” he barked into his phone as he sped. “I need every detail. Don’t lose the coordinates.”
At the hospital, Bello stormed into Tade’s eerily quiet office. His sharp eyes scanned the space, cataloguing every detail, searching for the slightest anomaly. Nothing looked out of place. He began mounting his equipment while waiting for Tade.
Halfway across the globe, Moses jolted upright, the shrill chime of his phone slicing through the night. His pulse thundered as he saw the blinking notification. Not now. Not her. With trembling hands, he swiped the screen.
Dunni.
“No,” he whispered, his chest tightening as he dialled her number. The call failed. He tried again. Nothing.
“Come on, Dunni,” he muttered, voice cracking into a prayer.
Desperate, he scrolled through his contacts, calling Ola.
“Moses,” Ola answered on the first ring, his voice taut. “I was about to call you.”
“Where is she?” Moses demanded. Ola did not need to ask. Moses had also received the distress call.
“She’s at the Women’s Centre in Abuja,” Ola said quickly. “We’re looking into it. It might be a false alarm.”
Moses exhaled sharply. “It better be. Because if it isn’t—” He left the threat hanging, his tone razor-sharp.
Minutes later, a message confirmed his worst fear: a bomb had exploded at the Women’s Centre.
Moses’s chest burned with frustration. He tried calling Ola back, but his phone was engaged, which was no surprise. His calls to other staff and contacts went unanswered, the seconds stretching into agonizing eternities. When he finally reached Dupe, the receptionist, his voice lashed like a whip.
“Dupe put Ola on the line. Now.”
“Oga Moses! No greeting?”
“Emergency,” he snapped. “Now!”
Ola’s voice was shaky when he finally came on. “There’s been an explosion, Moses. We can’t locate her yet.”
“Not good enough,” Moses said, his tone venomous. “I’m going to Abuja.”
“Moses, let us—”
“No.” His voice cut through the protest like steel. “I will contact a security agency I know here who may have links in Nigeria and book the next available flight to Abuja.”
The hours blurred as Moses’s plane streaked across the night sky. His jaw clenched, his mind racing through worst-case scenarios. Reports were scattered and unreliable. Dunni’s name was conspicuously absent—neither among the injured nor the dead. The silence gnawed at him, each second tightening the noose of dread.
The trending hashtags painted a grim picture: #BringBackOurWomen, #AbujaBlast. The chaos felt insurmountable, but Moses had no patience for despair. He’d already mobilized Benesh Segal, the elite and secretive security firm renowned for solving the unsolvable. If anyone could find Dunni, it was them.
Back in Lagos, Tade walked into his office, his movements brisk, only to find Bello barking orders into a comms unit. The air in the room was electric and tensioned.
“What’s going on, Bello?” Tade demanded, his voice sharp. “Did my mother send you?”
“No, sir. There’s been a distress signal from one of your devices.”
Tade froze, his blood turning cold. “Is the location Abuja?”
“Yes,” Bello confirmed grimly.
“It’s Dunni,” Tade said, his voice barely above a whisper. “The architect.”
Bello’s eyes hardened. “We’re on it,” he said, rattling off orders to his team.
Tade’s hands trembled as he dialled Dunni’s office. Ola picked up after what felt like a lifetime.
“Ola, what’s happening?” Tade asked, forcing calm into his voice.
“We picked up her distress signal. There is a confirmed bomb- blast, but Dunni has not been found.
“My security details also picked up a distress notification from a piece of jewellery I gave her. They’re following the coordinates.”
“Send me their information,” Ola said. “We must coordinate this as we have engaged the services of an external security detail. This information you provided is the best news I have had all day.”
“Done,” Tade replied.
As Bello’s team sprang into action, they contacted Ola’s team immediately. Tade’s resolve hardened. He wouldn’t let the gnawing dread consume him. Not yet. They would find her. They had to.
